The Mote In God's Eye

There was communications gear in their baggage. When Re

There might even be enough to build a good transmitter. Something that would reach Lenin. "Can we land in the street?" Staley asked.

"In the street?" The Motie blinked. "Why not? If Charlie agrees. This is her aircraft." Whitbread's Mode trilled. There were answering hums and clicks from the cockpit.

"You're sure the Castle is safe?" Staley asked. "Whitbread, do you trust the Moties?"

"I trust this one. But I may be a little prejudiced, Hor-Mr. Staley. You'll have to make your own judgment."

"Charlie says the Castle is empty, and the ban on Warriors in Castle City still holds," Whitbread's Motie said. "She also says King Peter's wi

"Will she land near to the Castle?" Staley asked.

"Why not? We have to buzz the street first, to warn the Browns to look up." The Motie trilled again.

The grumble of motors died to a whisper. Wings spread again, and the plane dipped lower, falling almost straight down to pull level with a swoop. It whizzed past the Castle, giving them a view of its balconies. Traffic moved below, and Staley saw a White on the pedestrian walkway across from the Castle. The Master ducked quickly into a building.

"No demons," Staley said. "Anybody see Warriors?"

"No."

"Nae."

"Me neither."

The plane banked sharply and fell again. Whitbread stared wide-eyed at the hard concrete sides of skyscrapers whipping past. They watched for Whites-and Warriors- but saw neither.

The plane slowed and leveled off two meters above the ground. They glided toward the Castle like a gull above waters. Staley braced himself at the windows and waited. Cars came at them and swerved around.

They were going to hit the Castle, he realized. Was the Brown trying to ram their way through like the cutter into MacArthur? The plane dropped joltingly and surged against brakes and thrust reverses. They were just beneath the Castle wall.

"Here, trade with me, Potter." Staley took the x-ray laser. "Now move out." The door wouldn't work for him and he waved at the Motie.

She threw the door wide. There was a two-meter space between wingtip and wall, making twenty-five meters in all. That wing of the aircraft had folded somehow. The Motie leaped into the street.

The humans dashed after her, with Whitbread carrying the magic sword in his left hand. The door might be locked, but it would never stand up to that,

The door was locked. Whitbread hefted the sword to hew through it, but his Mode waved him back. She examined a pair of dials set in the door, took one in each of the right hands, and as she twirled them turned a lever with her left arm. The door opened smoothly. "Meant to keep humans out," she said.

The entryway was empty. "Any way to barricade that damn door?" Staley asked. His voice sounded hollow, and he saw that the furnishings were gone from the room.

When there was no answer, Staley handed Potter the x-ray laser. "Keep guard here. You'll need the Moties to tell if someone coming through is an enemy. Come on, Whitbread." He turned and ran for the stairs.

Whitbread followed reluctantly. Horst climbed rapidly, leaving Whitbread out of breath when they reached the floor where their rooms were. "You got something against elevators?' Whitbread demanded. "Sir?"

Staley didn't answer. The door to Re

"What's the matter?" Whitbread panted. He went through the door.

The room was empty. Even the bunks were removed.

There was no sign of the equipment Re

They searched, but found nothing. On every floor it was the same: fixtures, beds, furniture, everything removed. The Castle was a hollow shell. They went back downstairs to the entryway.

"Are we alone?" Gavin Potter asked.

"Yeah," Staley replied. "And we'll starve pretty bloody quick if nothing worse. The place has been stripped."

Both Modes shrugged. "I'm a little surprised," Whitbread's Motie said. The two Moties twittered for a moment. "She doesn't know why either. It looks like the place won't be used again-"

"Well, they damn well know where we are," Staley growled. He took his helmet from his belt and co

"Mr. Staley, where in hell are you?" It was Captain Blaine.

"Captain! Thank God! Captain, we're holed up in- Wait one moment, sir." The Moties were twittering to each other, Whitbread's Mode tried to say something, but Staley didn't hear it. What he heard was a Mode speaking with Whitbread's voice- "Captain Blaine, sir. Where do you get your Trish Mist? Over."

"Staley, cut the goddamn comedy and report! Over."

"Sorry, sir, I really must know. You'll understand why I ask. Where do you get your Irish Mist? Over."

"Staley! I'm tired of the goddamn jokes!"

Horst took the helmet off. "It isn't the Captain," he said. "It's a Motie with the Captain's voice. One of yours?" he asked Whitbread's Motie.

"Probably. It was a stupid trick. Your Fyunch(click) would have known better. Which means she's not cooperating with my Master too well."

"There's no way to defend this place," Staley said. He looked around the entryway. It was about ten meters by thirty, and there was no furniture at all. The hangings and pictures which adorned the walls were gone. "Upstairs," Horst said. "We've got a better chance there." He led them back up to the living quarters floor, and they took positions at the end of the hail where they could cover the stairwell and elevator.

"Now what?" Whitbread asked.

"Now we wait," both Moties said in unison. A long hour passed.

The traffic sounds died away. It took - them a minute to notice, then it was obvious. No-thing moved outside.

"I'll have a look," Staley said. He went to a room and peered carefully out the window, standing well inside so that he wouldn't expose himself. - - -

Demons moved on the street below. They came forward in a twisting, flickering quick run, then suddenly raised their weapons and fired down the street. Horst turned and saw another group melting for cover; they left a third of their number dead. Battle sounds filtered through the thick windows.

"What is it, Horst?" Whitbread called. "It sounds like shots."

"It is shots. Two groups of Warriors in a battle. Over us?"

"Certainly," Whitbread's Motie answered. "You know what this means, don't you?" She sounded very resigned.

-When there was no answer she said, "It means the humans won't be coming back. They're gone."

Staley cried, "I don't believe it! The Admiral wouldn't leave us! He'd take on the whole damn planet-"

"No, he wouldn't, Horst," Whitbread said. "You know his orders."

Horst shook his head, but he knew Whitbread was right. He called, "Whitbread's Motie! Come here and tell me which side is which."

"No."

Horst looked around. "What do you mean, no? I need to know who to shoot at!"

"I don't want to get shot."

Whitbread's Motie was a coward! "I haven't been shot, have I? Just don't expose yourself."

Whitbread's voice said, "Horst, if you've exposed an eye, any Warrior could have shot it out. Nobody wants you dead now. They haven't used artillery, have they? But they'd shoot me."

"All right. Charlie! Come here and-"

"I will not."

Horst didn't even curse. Not cowards, but Brown-and whites. Would his own Motie have come?