Return To Kaldak

Chapter 16

Blade quickly realized the missile base was the key to defeating Detcharn's plans and ending any immediate threat to Kaldak. Detcharn was so proud of the missiles that he hadn't bothered to develop any other way of spreading the fever germs. If the missile silos were wrecked and Kaldak warned of what they might be facing, there would be no quick war ending in an easy victory for Doimar. Blade could hope that Detcharn wouldn't persuade the Doimari to follow him in a long war. He seemed the type to make enemies who would take advantage of his first defeat to get rid of him for good.

Blade wished he could be sure of this, but quickly learned he wasn't going to know this or a lot of other things about the new Doimar. He was no longer a prisoner, but he was still something less than a guest. He was seldom allowed outside the research complex, and neither the guards nor the Seekers would answer his questions.

Detcharn talked freely, but Blade didn't learn much from him. Most of what Detcharn said was boasting about his past achievements or his future plans. He seemed to have vague notions about ruling not only Doimar but the whole Dimension as a dictator, after the fall of Kaldak. It didn't seem to bother him that he might be ruling over an empire of corpses.

Once he disappeared for several days, then came back to invite Blade to a private showing of some films. They showed a raid on a Tribal village. Blade watched with disgust at the ruthless butchery, and also with interest at the close-ups of the Tribesmen. Many of them had the long, hairy, pointed ears of the young chief he'd let escape from the Doimari tracking station. Was this the same Tribe, or was the mutation just a coincidence?

Detcharn was so proud of the raid and the number of Tribesmen he'd killed personally that Blade was able to draw him out. «I hate to sound like Moshra, but was the raid necessary? You got off lightly this time, but what if they're waiting for you the next time?»

Detcharn shrugged. «Our soldiers know getting killed is part of their job. But I'm not planning another such raid any time soon. Perhaps not at all, if the Day comes soon enough. This was the Tribe that ran off from our ranging and tracking station and let it fall to Kaldak. They had to be punished.»

So this Tribe might indeed be the young chiefs. Interesting-and maybe useful, since they now had no cause to love Doimar. If Detcharn just hadn't killed off so many of their warriors that they might now be helpless. .

«Killing them won't bring back your old station,» said Blade reprovingly. «It might even provoke other Tribes to attack your new one, whenever you set it up.»

«Oh, it's been in operation for some time now,» said Detcharn. «I will send you out there to see it yourself in a few days. And you're right, we should patrol the area around it more closely. But the Tribes spend too much time fighting each other to ever unite against us or Kaldak. Also, the new station is a good hundred miles from the nearest Tribe with Newtec weapons. Long before they can find it and send warriors that far, the Day will fall on them as it will on Kaldak.» He dismissed adding the Tribesmen to his planned genocide with an airy wave of his hand and poured more drinks.

At least Blade needed no help to learn about the missile base. It was all laid out in front of him anytime he stepped out on the terrace, which he did about twice a day. He quickly memorized every key point so thoroughly he could have easily built a model of the base.

Taking out the base was not going to be a one-man job. Blade knew that almost at once. But twenty or thirty men armed to the teeth and taking it by surprise would have a chance. Forty or fifty would have a very good one. There were usually less than a hundred guards, they were scattered widely, and only a few of the Seekers bothered to carry weapons. The base was also a couple of hours' flying time from Doimar itself. The raiders could do their work and be long gone before reinforcements arrived.

Assuming you could conjure up the men needed, how likely was surprise? There Blade had to do more guessing than he liked, but finally decided that the chances were good enough to make the raid worth trying if he could get the men. The Doimari seemed to assume that the Kaldakans not only didn't know about the base but couldn't have done anything if they knew. There were virtually no antiaircraft defenses and all the radar sets were used for tracking missiles as they took off.

And if all else failed, there was still a one-man job which could upset Doimar's plans. Blade could kill Detcharn.

Killing his own son wasn't something Blade would normally have been contemplating this calmly. But then, normally he wouldn't have had to contemplate it at all. It was a tragedy that a mind as brilliant as Detcharn's had to be destroyed, but that very brilliance meant there was no one to take his place.

Of course Blade's own chances of survival afterward would be small. But he'd made up his mind on that point, too. Detcharn was too dangerous to be allowed to live.

«More wine, Voros?»

«Thank you, Moshra.» Blade held his cup out as she poured from a crystal jug. It was good wine, tart and strong.

Through the picture window he saw the distant glow of the research base on the horizon. This was the second time Moshra had invited him to dinner. It was the first time she'd brought him to her private villa several miles from the base. Blade wondered if he was facing a second attempt by one of his daughters to seduce him.

Conversation died as they drank. The glow on the horizon brightened momentarily. After a bit the house started vibrating and gently. The rumble of the launch swelled, then died away.

«They're sending one off almost every night,» said Moshra. Her voice was so toneless it was impossible to tell if she approved or not. Blade studied her as a woman, setting aside for the moment their blood relationship.

She was actually quite attractive, or would have been if she hadn't been wearing a shapeless gown and pulled her thick brown hair back into a tight knot. She also had the same remote, impersonal manner as when he'd first met her. He wondered if telepaths were required to be celibate?

Instead he said, «Your mind seems to be far away tonight. I might be in Kaldak for all the attention you're paying me.»

She blushed, then managed a smile. «My mind has to be some distance away from yours. Otherwise it might be in yours.»

«You don't have to touch me?»

«I can reach you more strongly when I am touching you. But even without that, I might read thoughts you did not want known.» She sighed. «Being able to speak mind to mind is a great gift-they say. I have not always been better off for having it, though. But I think a good time is coming.» She reached out and held Blade's hand.

Blade suppressed a start, then the urge to pull away. The gesture was so clumsy that he could hardly believe it had any sexual meaning. Or did Moshra want to get rid of her virginity, if she had it, but didn't quite know how to go about persuading him to help her?

That was as far as he let his guessing go before he clamped a barrier over his mind. Cheeky yeeeped in protest. Blade tossed him a piece of bread with his free hand but didn't relax his mental control. He couldn't jerk his hand away without causing a scene, and as long as Moshra was touching him she could far too easily detect the questions he was asking in his mind.

Moshra's free hand fluttered over the wine jug like a moth around a candle flame. Suddenly it jerked convulsively, and the jug toppled off the table. Wine and shards of crystal made a mess on the rug.

«Oh, curse the-«began Moshra, but Blade was no longer listening to her. He'd heard a sound where no sound should be, from the curtained alcove in the rear of the room. His chair went over with a thump as he jumped up, and he was drawing his pistol as he whirled around.

Then the curtains parted and revealed a heavy-set, white-haired woman in a powered wheelchair. She pressed a button and the wheelchair rolled out into the room. Then her face split in a familiar grin.

«Welcome back to Doimar, Richard Blade.»