Intrepid

44

Kris let Chief Beni start the interrogation while their shuttle was still taxiing downriver to find a good takeoff run.

''How did you hide your heartbeat? How did those snipers keep themselves hidden?'' he demanded.

''We may be crazy, but we are not stupid,'' the man snapped back. ''We spent forty years seeking ways to make ourselves invisible to the coming alien hordes. Don't you think we can handle a few minor things like our heartbeats? We have electromagnetic blockers the rest of you haven't dreamed of.''

The chief didn't look like he believed that, but with the evidence so recently rubbed in his face, he fell silent.

''Why do we have to take you with us?'' Kris asked.

''Isn't that obvious?'' the man sneered. ''I am a rogue, worse than a nonbeliever. I have talked to you, whom the Guides have placed under interdict. My life is forfeit in the worst and slowest way possible. However, rather than let me escape or talk to you, they would let me die quickly, a bullet in the brain.''

''And what is it that you are not supposed to tell us?''

The man did not snap a quick reply to that question. He hunched down, seemed almost to shrink in his seat. When he finally spoke, it was hardly a whisper. ''I really don't know.''

When he made no effort to expand on that, Kris relaxed into her own seat. The shuttle went to full boost, discouraging conversation. Kris let it ride.

Xanadu was a puzzle. It had been so to start with. It was only getting worse as they got deeper into it.

It took two orbits to get all the teams back aboard. Prometheus sat huddled in on himself in her staff room, guards at the exits. He'd emptied his stomach on the way up; never in microgee before, it did not go well with him. Kris had a boffin doc look in on him. He prescribed a pill. The man took it, and a cup of water, but turned down food and drink.

Kris settled into her chair, as Jack and Gunny glided in last. Abby, Penny, and Captain Drago had been there first, followed quickly by Professor mFumbo, who made a point of reminding Kris that research had been promised the number-one priority next.

Kris had no time for squabbles. She was busy replaying the previous visit to Xanadu, trying to figure out this change. Yes, she'd played her cards heavy-handedly in the face of obstinate rejection from the Guides. That would account for the general reaction. But why was this man here? What had changed for him?

''When we last stopped,'' Kris started slowly, ''you and your son were our original contacts. Where is he?'' Kris said, a guess. Maybe a shot in the dark.

''My son is gone,'' the man whispered.

''Gone where?'' Kris asked.

Now the man looked up at her, eyes misting. ''I do not know. He's gone. Not just out of town. He's left Xanadu!''

''We found people from Xanadu on Pandemonium,'' Penny said.

The man just shook his head. ''You don't understand. Lucifer didn't run away. He left Xanadu with the Blessings of the Guides. That doesn't happen. He left with three dozen young men and women. Together. All with Blessings. Never have the Guides done that. And they took their burial shrouds with them. Shrouds and a handful of dirt from our family garden. They will not come back alive.'' Now he raised his eyes to Kris's.

''Not unless you can do something to save my son. Will you? Please don't tell me that I've thrown away everything I hold dear to save my son, and you won't help me.''

The temptation to give a snap, ''Yes, of course,'' was hard on Kris's lips. But throwaway words would be a travesty in the face of this father's begging. He'd given up everything he believed in for his own flesh and blood. If Kris made him a promise, she'd better be willing to redeem it with the same coin.

Kris looked around. While Prometheus had been talking, Colonel Cortez drifted in and pulled himself down into a chair near the door. He took in the man's grief with sad eyes.

Jack, however, showed what she saw on most faces. This man was a nutcase. He might have just walked away from a can of nuts, but just why was much open to doubt and not worth anyone's blood.

That was it. The Marines had just paid a high price for a planet's freedom. This man would have to trump that if he wanted them to take a bullet for him.

Kris measured her next words with a laser range finder. ''Mr. Prometheus, let me see if I understand you.'' The man locked eyes with her. Kris had often held people's attention at political rallies, command meetings. She'd never held anyone's attention as tightly as she did this man's.

''Your son has left Xanadu. Something that never happens.''

He nodded.

''He did so with a few dozen other youths on a mission for the Guides. A mission that they all believe will be suicidal.''

Again, the man in the toga nodded.

''But you have no idea what that mission is.''

Prometheus leaned back in his chair, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. ''Correct,'' he said, then added, ''except that my son told me that they'd set the nonbelievers to such a war among themselves that the aliens would hardly find a dozen eyes to boil when they got here. He mentioned that once, then got quiet.'' The man's eyes lit up. ''Could that help you?''

Jack shook his head. ''Sir, human space has a hundred powder kegs just waiting to explode. Kris here has personally yanked a half dozen sputtering fuses out of as many kegs.''

The light went out of the eyes of the father.

''But,'' Kris put in, ''we are in the habit of chasing fuses and pissing on them. Hasn't made us a lot of friends,'' she said to a general chuckle around the room. ''If your son has just become a fuse, or a set of tracks that will lead us to one of those fuses, I think you can count on us looking into this.''

''Can you save my son's life?''

Kris reflected on the trail of death and gore she'd left over the four years of her Navy career. That sent a shiver down her spine. ''I can try, sir, but I can't promise anything.''

She glanced around her table. None would tell this father that he'd come to the right person to plead for someone's life. People died around Kris. Friends, enemies, Kris was an equal-opportunity totem of death. She hadn't set out to be that, but there was something about the name she bore. Longknife.

People who got too close to a Longknife got dead.

''Captain Drago, set course for Cuzco,'' Kris said. ''It's big. Maybe they can tell us the latest in rumors.''

''And we can find out about our prize money,'' the ever-piratical captain added.