"Point," he admitted. "I don't know, though—this whole thing still seems awfully loose. The communication itself, for one thing—you should have nailed down the method and language right here and now."

I nodded. "Agreed. And I would have, too... except that I was reasonably sure the thunderheads would have lied or otherwise clouded the issue."

He cocked an eyebrow. "I hope you're not counting on them rolling over like pet dogs and meekly giving you anything you ask for once you're out in space. Because if you are..." He left the sentence unfinished.

"I believe," I said carefully, "that I have a way to force them to give me the cooperation I need, when I need it. I'd rather not say any more right now."

He frowned at me, doubt and worry and trust swirling around and through each other like battling tornadoes. "I don't like not knowing what you're planning," he said at last. "But I suppose... so far you've always been worth trusting. I just hope that that religious naivete of yours isn't playing you false."

Look, I am sending you out like sheep among wolves; so be cunning as snakes and yet innocent as doves... "Yes, sir," I told him, an involuntary shiver running up my back. "I hope not, too."

He pursed his lips. "So... what now?"

I glanced past him to where Eisenstadt was still checking Adams over. "Now I'm going to need transport out to the aliens."

"Just like that?" Lord Kelsey-Ramos asked. "No other preparation needed first?"

"No, sir. Well," I amended, "I will need some reasonably portable long-range communications gear—the more sophisticated, the better. But I'm sure we can scrape that up somewhere on reasonably short notice. Transport will be the tricky part."

His sense changed subtly. "Do you want to take the Bellwether?" he asked.

I'd seen the offer coming, but that didn't make it any less impressive. For him to offer up his beloved ship to an unknown fate... "I appreciate the offer, sir," I told him, and meant it. "But I don't think we need to go quite to that extreme. I was thinking more along the lines of one of the rocheoids that've been fitted with Mjollnir drives."

I'd spoken softly, but obviously not softly enough. Crouching beside Adams and Eisenstadt, Kutzko's head swung up, a startled look in his eyes. Straightening up, he left the others and stepped over to join us.

Lord Kelsey-Ramos glanced at him, turned back to me. "The Bellwether would be considerably easier," he reminded me. "For starters, it's right here—crewed and ready to go—instead of being three days away at Collet. And it already has the comm gear you want."

"Yes, sir," I nodded, thinking furiously. "Unfortunately, it's also very strongly linked with you. I really don't want any of you associated more with this than necessary."

Lord Kelsey-Ramos snorted. "I'm already up to my eyelids here, and you know it. Try again—and this time let's have some of that honesty you religious people prize so highly, eh?"

I looked him square in the eye. "What I have in mind is going to be dangerous," I told him flatly. "I don't want to risk any more people than absolutely necessary. The Bellwether crew isn't absolutely necessary."

For a long minute he gazed at me. "When will you need the rocheoid?" he finally asked.

"Sir?" Kutzko interrupted before I could answer. "Request permission to accompany him, at least until he's aboard the rocheoid."

I looked at Kutzko... read his sense and intentions. "Thanks, Mikha, but I really don't want you along."

"You'll need me," he said, eyes steady on me.

"No, I don't," I told him with equal firmness. "Shepherd Adams and I can do it alone." I focused past him, to find Adams looking at me. "That is, if you're willing," I added to him.

"Do I have a choice?" he countered calmly. "You need someone through whom you can talk to the thunderheads—if not me, then another Seeker."

"It's going to be dangerous," I warned him, his quick acceptance giving my conscience a twinge. "I really can't ask you to—"

"Come now, Gilead," he smiled, a trace of irony coloring his determination. "The reason I came to Spall in the first place was to seek the kingdom of God, remember? If I die... then I've found it."

I looked at him closely... and in his sense I could see that, somehow, he indeed recognized the full magnitude of the risk we were facing. And was indeed prepared to accept it. "Thank you," I said quietly. I paused, listening to the awkward silence from the others, and took a deep breath. "Well, then," I said briskly, bringing the mood back to less uncomfortable ground. "That's it, Lord Kelsey-Ramos. If you and the Bellwether could give us transport out to the rings—"

"That's not quite it," Kutzko interrupted me. "If you're going out to meet the Invaders you're going to need to get hold of a zombi."

Lord Kelsey-Ramos looked at me, my feelings about the Deadman Switch running visibly through his mind. "He's right, you know," he agreed carefully. "Depending on how long you'll need to stay out there, you may even need more than one."

"And you'll need someone to guard them," Kutzko added. "As well as to... use the hypo on them. Which is why you need me along."

"Thank you—again—for your offer," I told him. "But I don't think we're going to need any zombis." I nodded past him toward Adams.

He glanced over his shoulder. "What do you mean?" he frowned.

"He means," Eisenstadt said, "that the thunderheads have just confirmed something we've suspected for quite a while: that they can physically operate a Halloa in a trance as fully as they can a regular zombi."

Kutzko muttered something startled under his breath, and Adams's eyes widened. His thoughts busy with the dangers and uncertainties ahead, that aspect of his communication hadn't yet occurred to him. "God save us all," he whispered.

Lord Kelsey-Ramos looked at Eisenstadt. "I believe Shepherd Adams is still officially assigned here," he said. "We'll need your formal permission to take him with us."

Eisenstadt nodded. "Yes, I'll need to record something for you. Let's go back to my office—all the proper protocols are there."

It took them nearly half an hour to get the permission recording done exactly according to standard format... and in their concentration neither man noticed that I slipped out for a few minutes to one of the labs down the hall. By the time Lord Kelsey-Ramos had what he needed, I was back... with what I needed safely hidden away in an inner pocket.

An hour later we were back aboard the Bellwether, heading at top acceleration for the rings of Collet. Where we would find out whether the inspiration that had come to me in my Pravilo prison cell was actually going to work.

And where I would very probably die.

The Pravilo commodore read the page through twice before finally raising his eyes to look at us. "You put me in a rather awkward position, Lord Kelsey-Ramos," he said. I listened carefully, but though there was considerable annoyance beneath the courtesy in his voice, I could hear nothing that sounded like suspicion. "I respect your position here; at the same time, I'm sure you're aware of how close to the wire Project Avalanche is running. Handling guided tours is pretty far down the worklist."

"I understand that, Commodore," Lord Kelsey-Ramos said, his tone managing to combine understanding sympathy and firm resolve. "I'm sure you understand in turn that when I put my name on a recommendation, I like to know how well the orders are being carried out."

He had not, in fact, signed the commission's official recommendation, but the commodore probably didn't know that. "Yes, sir," he nodded, "and I'd really like to accommodate you. But as I said, we simply don't have the people to spare."