"Jesus." Carlos wiped water out of his face, and hit the communication board. "Cassandra."
"Yes, Carlos."
"Patch me to Cadmann."
"There is interference on that frequency."
"Speculate."
"Artificial origin. It seems that someone has deliberately scrambled that frequency."
"Cabron!" he shouted.
Blood bubbled from Edgar's nose, but in his eyes was a quiet challenge. Edgar had pulled it off. The mad genius had faked a fucking storm, right down to the rainswept image of Robor. Supplies had been stolen, and the communications link with Cadmann had been broken. Precious time was lost. What else did they have planned?"
"Dios mio," he said. "They're stealing Robor to go back to the mainland, aren't they? Aren't they, you little shit!" Edgar didn't answer. Something had to get through the boy's armor. "You've taken back the mainland for Aaron Tragon!"
That stung, maybe. "Oooh, no," he said, and stopped.
Zack and Harry Siep appeared in the doorway. "What's going on?" Zack asked, staring at Edgar.
"He'll tell you," Carlos said. "Tell them all about it, bizquerno, or I'll break every soft bone in your head. I'm going for Cadmann."
Carlos jumped into Skeeter III and pushed the button-and nothing happened.
He jumped out and tried Skeeter I. Nothing. They had sabotaged the skeeters. He threw his head back and screamed frustration to the clouds.
Wait. Hendrick had just come in. It was likely that the saboteurs hadn't had time to damage his machine. He tapped his collar. "Hendrick. What was your skeeter number?"
There was a moment's pause as Cassandra routed the call, and then Carlos heard: "Number eleven. What's going on here?"
"We've got big troubles, that's what. Get a posse together. I'll be back in touch in ten minutes."
Carlos raced across the skeeter garage, and found XI. He punched the button, uttering a short prayer of gratitude when it coughed to life. He taxied it across the garage and revved, gathered speed along thirty feet of paved runway, and took off.
He wiped his forehead, only it wasn't rainwater now, it was sweat.
Where was the radio blockade? "Hello. Cadmann. Come in, Cadmann."
Nothing. No reply, "Calling command center. Can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear. What's the problem?"
"The problem is that whatever this interference is, it's on Cadmann's end."
He had gained the altitude he needed to dive down toward Cadmann's Bluff, hitting the red line. The engine couldn't be cool yet. Hendrick had barely brought it in. He rose up over the edge of the Bluff, and dropped down to land off-center on Cadmann's skeeter pad. He hopped out and had made it halfway to the house before Cadmann met him at the door. "What the hell is going on?"
Justin stood behind him in the doorway.
"I've got to talk to you," he said. He didn't want to say what he had to say in front of Justin, and that made him feel even worse.
Cadmann nodded and said, "I'll just be a minute."
And closed the door behind him.
"Listen," Carlos said as soon as they were alone, "Edgar fixed the weather report to get us off guard. Supplies have been stolen. Most of the skeeters have been disabled."
"Is Robor secure?"
"No way of knowing. Communications are sealed-we couldn't even contact you."
Cadmann ran, yelling back at Justin, "Bring the other skeeter down, Justin. We've got trouble."
Cadmann was at Carlos's skeeter before the blades had stopped spinning, and Carlos could do little save hang on. Below them, he saw Justin rev up the other skeeter, and take it into the air.
"Justin. Can you read me. Testing. Justin."
"Static clearing up now." Justin's voice crackled and then clarified.
"Cassandra. Interference originating from the house? Please track my message to Justin, and its rate of reception, and give a probable epicenter for disruption."
Cassandra barely paused. "The main house."
"Thank you very much. Justin. Get down to the colony. Pick up Zack, and get someone on skeeter repair. We need shock rifles. Meet me at the beach."
They aimed the skeeter into the wind, and flew northward. The distant mountains laughed at him.
Jessica looked back toward the mountains as if expecting that any moment they would part, and her father would appear.
Aaron's hand touched her shoulder. "Jessica. It's time to go-"
The loading was done. Radio messages from the main colony were sheer chaos. It would be hours before any effective force could be mounted against them. They had prefabricated huts, weapons, and a year's worth of food for twenty people. They had all of the instruments and apparatus needed to found a research station. There was mining equipment on the mainland.
Jessica carried her bags up the gangplank. Robor was theirs, by stealth and by subterfuge. She had planted the disrupter in her father's house. By the time anything could be done, they would be far from land. Any negotiations could be carried out by radio.
It was bad. In some deep sense it was even wrong. But the Earth Born had left them with no options.
The door slammed behind her. On the roof of Robor, the skeeter engines whirled to life. Robor lifted from the ground.
"Edgar," Cadmann mused. "He set it up before we took him off watch.
He's got them monitoring the lines. All right. Cassandra. Code Beowulf.
Are personal code lines corrupted?"
"Code Beowulf acknowledged. Voice pattern Cadmann Weyland acknowledged. Request second password."
"Ragnarok."
"Acknowledged. Your line is secure. Standard emergency frequencies are not under my control."
"Thank you. Secure the message to Justin Weyland."
"Can you trust him?" Carlos said nervously. "He might be a mole."
"Not in him," Cadmann said darkly. "This is Jessica's doing. And Aaron's. But Justin's not involved. I know it."
They swept in through the mountain passes, and looked down onto the half-deserted village of Surf's Up, the rain-drenched swept thatch roofs glistening in the clouded moonlight.
Some small figure pointed up at them, but then they were over the water and swinging south to the dirigible dock.
"What are you going to do?" Carlos asked nervously.
"Talk some sense into them, I hope." He cleared the ridge of coast, and saw what he feared-a black emptiness where Robor had once nested. Waves crashed against the sand, and the concrete pad was completely empty.
"Damn." Cadmann swung the skeeter north. Carlos cleared his throat. "Cadmann-we're low on fuel," he said. "We need to go back and get a new cell."
"We can't," he said grimly. "We don't have time. We're the only ones, Carlos. If we turn around, by the time we get to the colony, and switch batteries, and get back out here-they'll be out of skeeter range, and that's our only link to the mainland. It's now or never."
"And to the mines," Carlos said absently. "But is it worth what this will cost, compadre? They are our children."
"They're running without lights," Cadmann said under his breath.
"Cassandra. Can we have a trace on Robor?"
"I'm sorry," she said coolly. "That information is not available at this time."
"Damn!"
"Damn indeed, my friend," Carlos said quietly. "We're almost out of juice."
The rain pelted against their windows, and wind buffeted them. The storm might not have been Edgar's fictional typhoon, but it was no summer breeze. Lightning flashed at the horizon. A fist of wind slammed into the skeeter, knocking them sideways, and Cadmann almost lost control. His knuckles were white on the wheel, and he cursed under his breath.