Carnifex

16/8/469 AC, Jebel Ansar, Pashtia

The karez split, one branch continuing straight ahead into the gloom while the other took a left turn which opened up after several hundred meters to a pool fed by a small stream. The pool was icy cold but the air outside was warm.

Even at the slow pace at which the column moved toward the oval of light ahead, when she finally emerged into the sun, Khalifa's eyes watered and blinked. She had to cover them with one hand to protect them from the sun until they could become accustomed to it once again.

When she could see again, Khalifa saw a half dozen vehicles, several dozen horses, scores of people, men and women both, along with over a hundred head of livestock. The air was filled with the smell of roasting meat.

* * *

As soon as he reached open air Robinson pulled out his communication device and began to call the Spirit of Peace. He stopped when he felt the cold muzzle of a rifle pressed against the back of his head.

"I don't think so," Nur al-Deen said. "We can't have you calling for rescue before you have completed your task. Take it from him. Search the infidel houri," a nod indicated Arbeit—"as well to make sure she cannot speak to her people."

While two began searching Arbeit, who huffed with the indignity, another one of the Salafis pulled the communicator roughly from the High Admiral's hand and passed it on to Nur al-Deen. He saw that it was not much different from the cell phones already being produced around this world. Yes, it was a bit smaller but not all that much so. The only really distinguishing thing about it was the UE logo and the letters, "UEPF," underneath that. Nur al-Deen slipped the slender device into a pocket and walked to rejoin Mustafa.

* * *

"This was well done, Hameed," Mustafa congratulated the leader of the small party Nur al-Deen had sent ahead to prepare. Mustafa's eyes swept the valley into which his people had emerged. He saw that it was about two kilometers by four, lush and verdant at its floor and with tall, tree-covered hills to all sides.

"Thank you, Sheik. Our people here came to cover your emergence as soon as possible. The animals are not as many as I would have liked to provide a screen for our group, but the caves are still well stocked and we can shelter many in them to avert prying eyes. As you can see and smell, food is being prepared. The weapons, particularly those for use against aircraft, are in tip-top shape, with plenty of ammunition."

"Yes," Mustafa answered, smiling broadly. "I expected they would be. Get parties to moving them from the caves and camouflaging them."

"I will do so, Sheik."

"How do we want to set the bomb off," asked Nur al-Deen, appearing beside Mustafa.

"Move it by camel, I think," the Sheik answered. "It's not that low yield a bomb. If we can get it within a mile or so, it should destroy the crusader camp."

"Very well, then. I'll arrange it. I'll also arrange some obvious punishment for the Old Earth infidel if he fails to cooperate."

* * *

Robinson swallowed hard. The Salafis had cut down half a dozen trees and made two tripods with them. They'd set the tripods over piles of wood they set alight and then let burn down to coals. The fire and the tripods were for he and Arbeit.

"We'll hang you and your houri belly down over the coals, once they're ready," Nur al-Deen explained. "Then we'll lower you to cooking level. It won't be that quick, of course, because we'll start you swinging so you only cook a little at a time. It will take hours, maybe a whole day, before you die. That is, it will unless you cooperate and set off the bomb when we tell you."

"Martin, you can't let them . . . whatever they ask . . . whatever I have . . . it's yours if you just don't let them . . . "

"Shut up, Lucretia," he snapped. "How is this any different from the games you play back on Earth or in the dungeon Wallenstein set up for you on the Peace?"

"The difference, Martin, is that what I do I do only to lowers while what they threaten to do is to me."

Biting back a retort, Robinson hung his head. After a moment he told Nur al-Deen, "Drown your hot coals. Take down your tripods. I'll cooperate."

"Good. I thought you might. The bomb will leave tomorrow morning and should be in position by tomorrow night."

"Can we leave then?" the High Admiral asked.

"We'll see."

* * *

Havaldar Mohammad Kamal saw. Six foot two with blue eyes half hidden by his sun browned eyelids, he smiled from his hidden perch high on the slope of Jebel Ansar. The Blue Jinn—even some of his friends called Carrera that—had promised great rewards for the scout team which first spotted the enemy as they emerged. It was the will of Allah that Kamal's team was graced with that honor. Unheard by those below, Kamal radioed in his report. He was told to continue to monitor, to spot for any enemy air defense . . . and to be careful of incoming air and artillery attack.

"Friendly fire, isn't," one of the Balboan officers had reminded him.