"Oh, I did," Shaw assured him. "That should help." He looked at Lathe. "Did you deliver your message?"
Lathe nodded. "We found the half circle hiding in their lounge, behind about a dozen warriors. Between them and the Denver Security people Skyler should have talked to tonight, I think the high command will take the suggestion seriously."
"If they don't, we're in for a long, hard battle," Shaw warned.
"But at least it's a battle we know we'll ultimately win," Lathe said. "It's amazing what a difference hope can make in a person."
Galway's eyes drifted upward to the stars overhead. Hope. For most of his professional life, he reflected, all he'd ever hoped for for the people of Plinry was a little safety, a little security, and a fighting chance to live out their lives without unnecessary interference from their alien conquerors. He'd schemed and argued and fought to provide them that chance, straining against the small degrees of latitude his loyaltyconditioning provided in order to do so. He would have done anything he could toward that end, up to and including sacrificing Lathe and the other blackcollars if that was what it took.
It was only in the past twenty-four hours, when the loyalty-conditioning had been stripped away from his mind, that he recognized how low his goals had actually been.
He'd had his own small taste of freedom. Now, he had the chance to help bring that same gift to his people.
Someone was calling his name. "Sorry?" he said, lowering his eyes back to the others.
"I asked if you wanted to get some rest," Shaw said. "Maybe have your hand and face looked at. I have someone ready to take you to a safe house."
Galway snorted. "Rest? Now? You've got to be kidding. With all the chaos still going on at Khorstron, we have a golden opportunity to hit the government center before they can get themselves reorganized. I can let you inside—"
"Whoa," Shaw said, frowning as he held up a hand. "How are you going to do that? Haberdae knows you got us into Khorstron, doesn't he?"
"Sure," Galway said. "But he's the only one who does. Why couldn't it have been him who betrayed the base instead of me, with him having been left tied up to confuse everyone? It's exactly the sort of thing Lathe would do." He looked at Lathe. "Comsquare? There must be a way to pull this off."
Lathe was staring into space, a faint smile touching the corners of his lips. "I think there probably is," he agreed. "Okay, Galway. Let's try this ..."
EPILOGUE
The blackened pieces of burned wood crunched beneath Caine's feet as he walked through the blockwide path of destruction that had been cut across the city of Capstone. "They did this on their way out?" he asked, a shiver running through him as he looked around at the still-smoldering ruins that had once been homes and businesses.
"Yes," Lathe said, an edge of contempt in his voice. "Apparently the Ryq commanding the troop carriers' escort decided Plinry in general and Galway in particular needed a parting lesson in what it costs to cross the mighty Ryqril. Or something like that."
"As if any of these people had anything to do with that," Caine growled. "If they wanted to send messages, they should have hit Hamner Lodge instead."
"I'm sure they would have if there'd been any actual military reason to it," Lathe agreed. "But as I said, it was nothing but a final symbolic slap in the face." He gestured around them. "Fortunately, De Vries anticipated they might do something like this on their way out, and he and Haven were able to figure the likely target zone from their probable lift vector. He got emergency gear in place and was able to slip a lot of the residents out before the attack came. We could have lost a thousand or more, but we actually only lost twenty."
Caine sighed. "That's still twenty civilian deaths too many."
"Agreed," Lathe said. "Let's hope they're the last. Anyway, he's got a bunch of the refugees temporarily settled in the tube between the city and Hamner. That's where Galway disappeared to, by the way—
Haven took him up there to assess the situation."
Caine looked up at the Greenheart Mountains rising majestically into the sky. "You really think they're gone for good?"
Lathe shrugged. "The logic of the situation is certainly unarguable," he said. "Their only choices are total war against humanity—which they can't afford with the Chryselli breathing down their necks—or a slow, bloody, fighting withdrawal—ditto—or accepting the TDE-in-chaos scenario Skyler and I pitched them. And of course, wrecking all their TDE armaments factories on their way out was a fairly significant bridge-burning move all by itself. No, I think they really have decided that option three was their best bet."
"Unless they've just pulled back to regroup."
"That would be the worst choice of all," Lathe said grimly. "Because I think we're going to bounce back a lot faster than the Ryqril expect. Now that they've left, if they try to come in again they'll lose big time."
"Maybe," Caine said, a little doubtfully. "Though we're hardly going to be fielding any serious armies anytime soon."
"Which is fine, since that's mostly what we promised them anyway," Lathe said. "Still, not fielding soldiers doesn't mean we won't be doing our part for the war effort. I understand Lepkowski's already talking to some of the TDE's freshly Whiplashed industrialists about retooling their factories to produce war materiel for the Chryselli. And of course, without Ryqril warships prowling around TDE space, we can turn normal transportation duty over to civilian starships, which will free up the Novak, Defiant, and Karachi for direct battle-line operations."
Caine nodded. It might work. It might actually work. "And what about you?" he asked. "You're going to be taking a role in the new government, aren't you?"
Lathe snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. We're not statesmen, Caine. Most of us aren't even politicians. All we are is soldiers."
"The best soldiers."
"Best is a slippery concept," Lathe warned. "But it doesn't matter. We're still just soldiers ... and our war is finally over. It's in the hands of people like Lepkowski and Galway and Anne Silcox and Colonel Bailey now."
He gestured toward the mountains. "Me, I'm thinking about building myself a little cabin, sort of like the one Jensen told us about where Foxleigh lived. Near the lodge, of course, so I can keep on teaching Plinry's eager youth the art of combat. Assuming any of them will still want to learn, of course."
"They will," Caine said. "They do."
"We'll see," Lathe said. "And after that ..." He turned toward the mountains, his eyes taking on a faraway look. "There's no Backlash left, Caine," he said quietly. "And without it, this first generation of blackcollars is also the last. It's time for us to start our graceful fade into the history books."
Caine swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. "You saved humanity," he said quietly.
"We helped," Lathe agreed. "But it was hardly our show alone. There were Lepkowski and the Chryselli, Shaw and the Khala blackcollars, Anne and Kanai and the old Torch people who created Whiplash—the list goes on and on."
"And Galway, of course," Caine said, nodding. "Risking his neck to try to do right by his people."
"And don't forget yourself," Lathe added. "You're the one who started the ball rolling, after all."
"Maybe," Caine said. "But no matter how you slice it, you and the other blackcollars carried the heaviest load. We're never going to forget that."
"Never is a long time, Caine," Lathe said, a small smile on his lined face. "But we'll see. We'll see."