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members of Nike's retinue trying to outdo one another in their enthusiasm, the
gynander now retreated into the background. The tethercraft operation would
soon be a matter of independent public record. Dextra hoped that the exposure
would be all the weapon she needed, because it was about all she'd been able
to come up with on short notice.
"What a figmental place to stage the play!" Nike said suddenly, throwing an
arm around her. "I've never seen Lazlo-Lazlo so inspired!"
She indicated the fatigued-looking young guy in pseudo-Victorian dress.
"If that's inspiration, what's his boredom like," Dextra asked under her
breath, "cachesleep?"
"Fiction and drama are dead," Lazlo-Lazlo pronounced, stifling a yawn. "The
vicarious reality of electronic reportage and documentary has eclipsed them.
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Still, this setting has an undeniable absurdist legitimacy."
Dextra patted Nike's arm. "Sweetie, I want you to meet Emmett Orman, Allgrave
of the Exts; his sister, urn, Ghost; and their cousin, Major Lod." She studied
the trio for a moment, then added, "Lady and gentlemen, would you do me the
honor of accompanying me and my party down the well to Periapt? Moving into a
bay farther aft, I've got a passenger shuttle mat should be able to
accommodate the entire Ext contingent."
A few members of Nike's troupe complained that they hadn't absorbed enough of
Damocles's aesthetic auras yet, but Dextra wasn't in the mood to linger longer
than necessary.
Lod tugged at the Allgrave's elbow. "Cousin, we thank the Hierarch for her
gracious invitation, don't we?"
"Uh, yes, of course," the Allgrave answered somewhat mechanically. When
General Delecado approached, Orman spoke briskly: "We're leaving with Madame
Haven, here, from lock number "
"Eight-sigma," Tonii supplied for Dextra.
"Send one runner forward to tell Zone," the Allgrave resumed, "and post a rear
guard here in case the runner doesn't connect." He swung to Dextra. "Will that
be all right, ma'am?"
"'Ma'am,' how debonair," she remarked casually, "But warn them that I' 11 be
forced to leave them behind if they're not at the shuttle directly. You know
how it is."
Nike gathered her little artbeat flock and headed off. Major Lod proffered his
arm, but Dextra pretended not to notice. Orman gave a hand signal, and the
Exts fell in along either bulkhead.
Dextra heard him add a watchword for them to pass back.
"Zanshin."
* * * *
As she led the way, Dextra steeled her nerve. It helped to have Tonii there, a
silent step behind her.
To her relief, the Exts hadn't balked, although Emmett Orman was wearing a
wary expression. They made their way aft with a kind of focused ease, a calm
attentiveness to the details around them.
The shuttle was in place, fueled and replenished to take planetside a cargo of
Concordance artifacts Commissioner Renquald had sent home to his dynastic
group, though the actual loading hadn't commenced. The pilot and copilot were
having a confab with some LOGCOM people when Dextra, Nike's troupe, and the
Exts arrived.
Dextra gave the two men no time to mull over their options. "Flight crew
aboard, please. I'm preempting payload space on a Lyceum priority."
In her war correspondent days she had sneaked a wounded
Reformist a local who had acted as her interpreter past Fundamentalist pogrom
units to safety. Her heart hadn't whomped in her throat in quite the same way
until this moment.
The shuttle crew chief stalled, "But but we yanked the seating modules for
cargo space."
Dextra tugged at the integral fast-roping harness built into the Allgrave's
battlesuit. There were also carabiners and assorted short lines and straps,
neatly rolled and secured. "The deck couplings will do nicely for tie-downs,
Orman," she suggested. "If you're game, that is."
Orman shrugged. "Delta-V, Hierarch Haven. That way there'll be no squabbling
over aisle seats."
* * * *
Burning's reflex was to stand fast until Dextra Haven told him what was really
happening, but his instinct was to get everyone off Damocles by any means
possible. Why, after all, should a Hierarch display such nervousness aboard
one of LAW's most powerful spacecraft? Lod, too, seemed all in favor of
abandoning ship, and he had a sixth sense about which way to jump in the murk
of guile and counterguile. As for the rest, they were deep in zanshin.
One of the core disciplines of the Skills, "remaining mind" was a concept
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borrowed from Old Earth's bujutsu fighting arts. It was the state of unfailing
alertness, constant preparedness to react or take action, a primary tool for
harnessing Flowstate to Skills applications. A good Skillsfighter was in or
near zanshin most of the time, but it hadn't hurt to remind the Exts when
they'd moved out.
Burning made a low back-and-forth hand signal to Wetbar, Zone's XO, who had
been left in charge of B Company. "Get aboard and secure the spacecraft."
Wetbar added his own signals, and his first platoon double-timed into the ship
by fire teams. Nike Lightner's followers looked poleaxed by the realization [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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