Children of God

"You don’t mind?" Sandoz asked the Runa as they walked. "Someone could ask Nico to stop singing."

"I don’t mind," Kajpin said.

"It’s not as beautiful as Isaac’s music," said Tiyat, "but it’s nice."

The foreigners carried communications gear, and answered periodic status calls from the Giordano Bruno with laconic reports that sounded bored.

"It’s rainin’here like the third ring of hell," Sean said once. "What’s the weather look like for tomorrow?"

"Clearing up," Frans told him.

"Thank God for that," was the heartfelt reply. And Sean closed the co

THEIR SLEEP WAS BROKEN EARLY NOT BY THUNDER BUT BY THE RADIO transponder’s whistle, clear and musical in the scrubbed morning air. It was Frans Vanderhelst, hailing anyone from the Giordano Bruno. Sean answered, yawning, and heard Frans say, "Is everything okay down there?"

"Shit, yes," Sean answered irritably. He nodded agreement as Joseba, bleary-eyed, leaned over to put the transmission on conference so everyone could listen to both sides of the conversation.

"We’ve lost live traces from three of the four GPS implants. What’s going on?"

That brought them fully awake. They had expected questions about the implants eventually, but not this one. "Three of the four?" Sean looked at his companions and saw the story on Nico’s face, rosy in the cloudless dawn. Joseba moaned and put his head in his hands. The VaN’Jarri roused as well and began to ask questions, but Sandoz hissed a warning as Sean raised a hand for silence.

"We have three GPS signals at the rendezvous showing no movement for three days," Carlo was saying. "There’s another one two hundred and forty kilometers northeast of the site. Are you all right?"

"Yes! We’re fine, dammit, except y’woke us all up! Can we talk later? I was havin’ a very fine dream—"

"So what’s going on with the implants?" John cut in. "Why can’t Sofia’s escort find you guys? They said the campsite smells of blood. For a minute there, we thought you were dead and eaten! We just talked to Sofia and she’s convinced Emilio’s been kidnapped by renegade Jana’ata-she’s ready to come after you with an army! What’s going on?"

Kajpin’s ears folded back at the word "army," and the other VaN’Jarri began to show signs of stress. Sean yawned theatrically, and looked around with large, desperate eyes while sputtering, "Christ! Is that you now, Candotti? One question at a time! We’re fine, I tell you! The blood was—" Sandoz, struggling to get a brace on, glared a warning at him. "Hang on, now. Sandoz wants to speak to you," Sean said, and handed the transceiver to him with some relief.

"John, this is Emilio. Tell Sofia she watched too many old Westerns with me," Sandoz suggested with a very nice imitation of amusement. "We don’t need the U.S. Cavalry riding to the rescue! Wait—have Frans put me through, yes? I’ll talk to her directly."

They all waited, tense and silent, as Sandoz walked a little distance away and stood with his back to them. Even so, they could hear his side of the conversation clearly in the still morning air. "Mendes? No, listen to me! We’re all right—. Oh, God. Don’t cry, Sofia! I’m fine. Truly…. Yes. Everything is fine…. Calm down, okay?" He looked at the others and winced, shaking his head slightly: never tell a woman to calm down. "No, Sofia, listen! That was just a froyil that Joseba shot! Yes—we barbecued it! I decided we should move camp so the blood wouldn’t put the escort off. We’re not far away."

"Relative to Earth," Joseba muttered.

"I don’t know what to tell you about that signal north of the rendezvous site," Emilio said then.

"Not one lie so far," Sean whispered, impressed.

"Maybe the implants are defective?" Sandoz suggested, pacing now. "Or the software’s no good?" A pause. "Well, it doesn’t matter, because we’re fine, okay? Listen, Mendes, we were up kind of late last night and everybody’s pretty tired, so we’d like to get a little more rest before we—. Sure! Yes, have them wait right there for us! That’s perfect!" he cried, standing still, eyes wide with relief. "You, too. Go back to bed—. Then have breakfast!" he said, smiling now. "Are you all right? Sure? Don’t worry about us! We’ll be in touch."

"Christ," Sean breathed as Sandoz returned to their circle and sank to the ground. "Remind me never to play poker with you again."

BACK ON THE SHIP, DANNY SHRUGGED. "D. W. YARBROUGH ALWAYS SAID Sofia Mendes could think too damned quick for her own good."

But Frans Vanderhelst was looking at Carlo. "There’s nothing wrong with those implants."

"Oh, yeah?" said John. "Look at the screen."

The fourth trace had just gone dead.

"I’M SORRY, DON EMILIO," NICO REPEATED AS JOSEBA POUNDED THE GPS transponder to pieces between two rocks. "Frans said—"

"It’s all right, Nico, I understand. You meant well," Emilio muttered, "for all the difference that ever makes."

"The army is coming," Kajpin said. "They think we’ve taken you hostage—"

"And they know where we are right now," Joseba told them.

"But Sandoz bought us some time," Sean pointed out. "They think we’re safe and camped somewhere near the rendezvous site—" Then his face fell further than it normally hung, and he stared balefully at the remains of the GPS implant. "Fack."

Joseba, rock still in hand, went motionless and then closed his eyes, realizing the deception had just been revealed. Only Sandoz had a clue as to what he said for the next few moments, but the burden of his speech was clear even to the VaN’Jarri. "Apologies," he said finally, his face flushed with shame. "I acted in haste."

"Go on without us," Sean urged the VaN’Jarri then. "We’ll go back and meet the escort. It’s us they’re concerned about. Soon as they know we’re all right, they’ll relax. We can figure out how to get to the N’Jarr later—"

"How much farther is it to Inbrokar?" Sandoz asked Rukuei quietly.

"We could be there by second sunrise today, if we move fast."

"It takes time to mobilize troops," Sandoz said. "We’re three days away from the rendezvous site, and it will be farther for them, because they’ll have to come overland the whole way, won’t they?"

"No, they can use troop barges, but that’s slow, too," Kajpin said.

Tiyat began to sway. "They don’t need the troops—there’ll be militia alerted all over the country. We’re cooked."

"I’m sorry," Nico said again. "But—what if we told Signora Sofia that we’ll bring back her son? We tell her, Don’t follow us. If you do, the deal is off. You cooperate, your boy comes back to you, no harm done." He looked around, hopeful that he had redeemed himself.

"It might work," Sandoz said after a time. He started to laugh, but then sobered and lifted his chin thoughtfully, grew somehow heavier and older before their eyes, and when he spoke it was in the hoarse tones of Marlon Brando, resurrected in the Rakhati sunlight. "We make her an offer she can’t refuse."

Joseba looked at Sean, who shrugged, and then put the call through to the Bruno. Emilio took the transceiver and cut off John’s demands to know what the hell just happened to that fourth implant. "Don’t ask, okay? Just don’t ask. I’m going the extra mile, John. I can’t tell you more than that. Have Frans put me through to Sofia."

The others watched while he waited, still gri

"You’re right, Sofia," he said. "Absolutely. But we are not under duress—. Listen to me!"

Instead he listened, letting her warn him, plead with him, threaten him, condemn his judgment. "Sofia," he cut in finally, "I have to do this. There is something I have to see for myself. All I’m asking is that you give me some time to work this through-a couple of weeks, maybe. Please. I never asked you for anything before, Sofia. Just this one thing, okay? Give me a chance to see for myself…"