Blackcollar: The Blackcollar

Eakins swallowed visibly. "I am Colonel Eakins, Acting Prefect," he said, enunciating carefully. "Prefect Apostoleris has been severely injured."

The Ryq made a gesture with its arm, and Galway winced involuntarily before he realized the alien wasn't going for his sword. Small as it was, his motion drew the Ryq's eyes for a split second. "I an Hrarkh—rarriaer khassq," he ground out, his paw completing its gesture to touch a section of his baldric.

Galway felt cold. Khassq-class warriors were the highest stratum of Ryqril society—orders of magnitude above the rear-echelon troops serving on Plinry. How high up this particular Ryq was in the government of Argent or in the war machine arrayed against the Chryselli Galway didn't know, but it didn't really matter. A khassq warrior's authority superseded any chain of command.

Obviously, Eakins knew all this even better than Galway did. "What are your commands?" the colonel asked.

"Rithdraw Secaerity rarriaers arornd all landing 'ields," the alien said promptly. "Eneny attack is allared to 'raceed."

Eakins blinked once. "Ah—yes, of course. But—are you aware the enemy has eliminated our top spies?"

"Dae yae qrestion?" Hrarkh's voice had dropped an octave, and Galway felt his mouth go dry. He'd heard that tone only once before from a Ryq; three men had died immediately afterwards.

"I don't question either your order or your authority," Eakins replied hastily. "I question only our ability to protect Ryqril interests without information from our spies if we withdraw our defenses."

Hrarkh seemed to relax, achieving the effect without moving any muscle that Galway could detect, and his voice returned to its earlier pitch. "Yaer 'raetection is not needed. Ryqril ha'e contral o' sitaetion."

"Of course," Eakins nodded vigorously. "Our forces will be withdrawn at once."

The Ryq's eyes flicked over Galway once more; then, without another word, he turned and left.

Eakins seated himself carefully in his chair as if trying to hold onto at least a shred of dignity. Galway gave his own pride a vacation and collapsed unashamedly into his own seat. "There are rumors on Plinry that the reason Ryqril always come to humans' offices is that if the Ryq gets mad it's the human's place that he tears apart instead of his own."

"It's no rumor—I've seen it happen." Eakins's face was shiny.

Galway looked at the open doorway. "What the hell was that all about?"

Eakins ran a hand across his forehead. "It sounds like they're putting Apostoleris's original plan back into effect."

"That's risky. If Lathe's got something up his sleeve they could lose everything—you just finished convincing me of that."

"That's right," Eakins said slowly. "But maybe they won't have to wait until Lathe reaches the ships to move in."

Galway frowned as he caught the other's drift. "You think the Ryqril have their own high-level spy in Radix?"

"I wouldn't be at all surprised."

For a moment the two men looked at each other in silence, and Galway saw his own dislike for the aliens' private spy network mirrored on Eakins's face. But neither said anything; and after a moment Eakins straightened in his chair and reached for the phone. He had, Galway knew, a lot of orders to rescind.

There were a lot of details involved in pla

Frowning in mild irritation, the comsquare stepped over to Hawking, who was observing the conversation closely from a chair by the table. "How're Jensen and Skyler doing?" Hawking greeted him quietly.

"Better," Lathe murmured. "Vale says Jensen's suffering mainly dehydration and a fouled-up digestive system, along with some laser and electric burns. Skyler's pretty stiff from all his burns, but he'll be okay in a day or two. He'll have to sit out the fighting tonight, though." He nodded slightly toward Lia

"About ten minutes," Hawking said, disapproval in his tone. "I didn't want to let her in, but Caine insisted. Apparently he set this up with her right after your meeting earlier with Tremayne's people, before I took over from Kwon."

Lathe glanced at Mordecai, lounging near the door, got a confirming nod. "What're they talking about?"

"I can't get much of what she's saying, but lip-reading Caine's responses, I gather it's an intelligence report of some kind."

Lathe grunted. "Well, she'll have to leave—we haven't got time for Caine to play general." He raised his hand slightly, trying to catch Caine's eye; but even as he did so the two of them got to their feet and started for the door. Lia

The comsquare got in the first question. "What was that all about?" he asked.

"I asked her to quietly get some information from Cameron and Salli Quinlan for me."

Lathe nodded. "And?"

"Up until three hours ago Brocken 'port was swarming with Security men who were setting up a defense perimeter outside the main fence. Salli's observers say they then just pulled up and left. Scattered reports from other 'ports show the same pattern. One other curious thing: since about noon spotters have seen an unusually high number of Corsairs lifting off, and no one has reported seeing them land."

"Insurance," Hawking murmured from behind Lathe. "The Ryqril are probably scattering them around the Diamond in hopes that one or two might wind up closer to the Novas than the ones that'll be following us from Argent."

"Seems reasonable," Lathe agreed.

"Yes," Caine nodded. "Doesn't it strike you as odd that Security should suddenly offer us an engraved invitation into Brocken?"

"A fair question. Doesn't it strike you as odd that they feel the need to send Corsairs to wait for us?"

"Like Hawking said, it's insurance."

"Insurance against Jensen's magic touch with Nova weaponry, perhaps?"

Judging from his expression, it took Caine another couple of heartbeats to catch on. "Are you suggesting there's still a spy in that group?" he asked disbelievingly. "Isn't that a little heavy on the overkill, even for someone like Apostoleris?"

Lathe shrugged. "I may be wrong."

"I hope to hell you are—because if you're not, that particular lie just forced Security to weave their noose a little tighter. You were lying about Jensen, weren't you?"

"Calm down. It got Tremayne to go along with us, didn't it?"

"Splendid—we can all walk into Security's arms together." Caine paused, his eyes boring into Lathe's. "Lathe, you're going to need one hell of a good trick handy to pull this off."

"I know. I may have one; we'll just have to wait to see if it works."

"Tell me about it."

"I'm sorry, but I can't."

"It involves Dodds, doesn't it?" Caine persisted. "Has he armed his Corsair with heavy weapons from a secret cache or something?"

Lathe shook his head. "I'm sorry. You're just going to have to trust me a little longer."

Caine stared at him, lips tightly compressed. "You've been saying that for a long time now," he said at last. "But I have responsibility for this mission, too, and my patience only stretches so far. If you want my trust you have to give me yours."

"I've risked all of our lives in coming here," Lathe said quietly. "We lost a lot of good men on Plinry, we lost Novak here, and depending on how realistic the collies want to make their defense look, we may lose more tonight. How much more do you want?"