They reached the level where Trice lived, spread out. Rash Norym had provided a floor plan. They penetrated at four points, advanced on Trice's apartment, broke into that and headed for her bedroom.

It was empty.

Nyo said, "Oh, shit!"

Blessed was rattled but refused to show it. "So she broke routine. So we have to hunt her down. We've got the people."

"She was in bed. It's messed up. She's gone. And she has the people, too. A lot of them, trained by the Ku while he was building in the planetary defense stuff."

"These guys are veterans, Nyo. Come on. We'll get her."

The comm beside Trice's bed beeped. T.W. appeared on its viewscreen.

"I knew it," Nyo said. "She was laying for us."

"Norym is dead meat." Blessed covered the visual pickup, opened the circuit.

Trice said, "That level has been isolated, Blessed. Utilities and services are about to be withdrawn. If you want to talk your way out of this, send your people home. You and Nyo take the freight lift to Lupo's office." The screen went dead. The lights died a moment later.

"Better talk," Nyo said. "We'd be fighting shadows. She knows where we're at and what we've got. We don't know what she's got. We don't know these aliens will stick if the shit starts flying."

"Cable won't be happy." Shike wanted House security.

"He'll understand. Hell, maybe she'll give it up. She wants out alive, too."

"Maybe." Blessed wished he could see his soldiers to get a read on their attitudes. They knew what was happening. Nyo was right. They wouldn't stick for all or nothing. "Damn her. We don't have any choice."

He had gone from euphoria to despair in two minutes.

Lupo and Two stepped into the office a moment after Blessed and Nyo walked in. Nyo said, "Oh, shit! This debacle had robbed him of his vocabulary.

Blessed looked like he was going to faint. "You?"

"Me, Blessed. Sit down." Lupo checked them for weapons. Two covered, smiling her little smile. "They're clean." T.W. glared at them, not pleased.

Cable Shike walked in.

Two's smile grew as Blessed worked it out.

"Cable?"

"I didn't want it this way."

"Why?"

"Placidia. Tina. Sooner or later you were going to realize you weren't Placidia's father. Sorry."

Blessed glanced at Provik. "Did you know?"

"I suspected. Don't be too broken up. He couldn't make up his mind till the last second. Not that you could have pulled it off anyway. Though you might have gotten to T.W. Which makes her real happy. She keeps muttering about how she used to change your diapers."

Nyo looked more desperate by the moment. He did not understand everything—especially not Lupo and his woman being here instead of off with the Ku—but he did see that he and Blessed had stumbled into a position where the others could not forgive and forget.

Blessed was slower. He didn't get it till Cable said, "I'm really sorry," and walked out.

"T.W.? You want the honors?"

"Provik! You can't do this! I'm the Chair!"

"You're the Blessed Other. You just tried the biggest double-shuffle of all time. As Shike will explain to the Directors when he releases them. If the Ku comes home, Cable can discover a huge miscarriage of justice. I won't care. I won't be here."

Lupo secured the comm, grim. "That was Shike. It's not over. He found the Directors all shot to death when he got home. Five, Six, you go. Take forensic people. Find me something."

He was angry and depressed. He did not have time for this. Why couldn't Blessed have waited?

— 120 —

Delicate Harmony let go its last hold on station. Station reciprocated. The mixed bridge gang backed off on steering jets, turned, sought the beacon range. Comm chattered with station, with two ships already in the range, with four that would come out behind Delicate Harmony.

Turtle's flag squadron was off to war.

Despite his circumstances, he was content. The restless warrior had sword in hand and a perspective too narrow to worry about anything but the dance toward battle with the dragon.

The wizard was not asleep. It rode observer, sardonically amused. This flagship was so bizarrely crewed. Turtle had his own followers, Ku and soldiers of four other species. He had six methane breathers in a sealed and pressurized environment at the heart of the ship. He had two hundred twelve Outsider humans, half of whom would have little to do unless he launched his two riders and four fighters. He had Blessed, Midnight, the Valerena, Provik and his woman, none of whom could contribute much but were, at least, where he had some chance to shape their destinies.

He'd had no trouble keeping them. The decision-makers over there believed their compliment could control him and his twenty-four soldiers. They did not count the hostages as anything else.

Turtle was counting on them heavily.

His Outsiders laid the ship into the range the way they did everything, with humorless precision, keeping exact station on the ship ahead, a twin of Delicate Harmony. All the squadron were identical, drawn from a litter of thirty reserved for a debut during the operation.

Turtle looked at those Outsiders. They and the Guardship people would feel at home with each other. But for their ideals they were much alike.

His command. His first since the Dire Radiant. No fantasy now. Was he up to the task? Had everyone made too much of the legend?

His command. And every Outsider on three hundred ships would jump if he barked—so long as his methane breathers remained satisfied.

He went to his combat command center, which abutted the pressure hull of methane country. He scanned a display revealing last known dispositions of forces friendly and otherwise. The display was static now, several days behind realtime. Locations for the Guardships were guesswork. But that would change.

From the viewpoint of the Godspeakers, that simulated starscape had to be disheartening. There were just twelve worlds left where their kind held on. The number of subject worlds had begun to dwindle, too, as Guardships searched for forces they believed ought to be resisting them. At Turtle's suggestion those worlds were not defending themselves. Their mobile strength had been drawn off for his ever more complex operation.

Let them surrender, become a burden upon the enemy, and wait till they could be reclaimed.

The communication personas of the Godspeakers were susceptible to persuasion. Like their human aides, they believed what they wanted to be true.

The Outsiders were possessed of more strength than Turtle had expected. More than the Guardships suspected. So the grand plan had been expanded, his aims growing with his confidence in his power to manipulate those who wanted him to be their redeemer.

He would launch blows at both heads of the dragon. Capitola Primagenia would sustain the first strike.

Everyone went to stations as Delicate Harmony approached the tag end. In moments the Web would rattle with instructions for and communications from units throughout the Outsider empire and Canon. In moments the clock of the grand design would begin to run.