The Regent gazed into the vat as into an aquarium. What floated there was no ordinary Invid clone, though. It had a cobra hood like his own, a row of eyelike turbercle sensors that mimicked his.
It was a new Regent, a false one.
"I am pleased," he said. "Make certain that it's ready by the time I've crushed the Sentinels."
Karen found Jack in one of the training areas the Sentinels had set up near their temporary groundside billeting area. She had been looking forward to teasing him about being compulsive in his training, but the look on her face changed when she saw he wasn't alone.
Bela was with him on the firing range, showing him how to use the Praxian crossbow. He was getting the hang of it, and put a quarrel within a foot or so of a bull's-eye at twenty paces.
"Ah, Karen Penn," Bela smiled. "You once asked me about our weapons; now you see they're so easy that even a male can use them. Jack here is making fine progress; would you care to try?" Bela clapped Jack on the shoulder in comradely fashion and gave him a sisterly hug. She towered over him, a full head taller.
Karen made no effort to keep the frosty tone out of her voice. "No, thank you. Lieutenant Baker, I'm just here to let you know that your request has been approved; you've been reassigned to Hovertank duty in the Wolff Pack."
"Hey, that's great!" He had studied Jonathan Wolff's style, and decided he wanted to serve under the man. "Did you get what you wanted?"
She looked at his grin and felt like belting him. He didn't even understand that she was sore at him. "Yes. I'm going over to Commander Grant's GMU staff as of tomorrow morning."
"Congratulations! Let's go celebrate. Bela, want to join us?"
But Karen was shaking her head. "No. I'm sure you two have lots of-exercising to do. And I wouldn't want to intrude."
As he watched her walk off, Jack said, bewildered, "Did I say something wrong, Bela? I don't think I understand what just happened."
Bela shrugged and recocked the crossbow with one swift, powerful pull on its forestock grip.
"Personally, I often find it difficult to comprehend your species at all."
At last, after weeks of frantic preparation, training, re-equipping and rearming and reorganizing, the Farrago was ready to lift off.
The original plan for a Karbarran starship and fighting force to accompany the Sentinels had had to be abandoned; the Invid had disabled all Karbarran ships, and the new ones on the drawing boards wouldn't be ready for months yet.
"The new production lines for VTs and other mecha will be fully operational in another six weeks," the senior Karbarran administrators had assured the Sentinels. "When you've freed the women of Praxis, we will be ready to help them become an army."
The word was that the Invid garrison on Praxis was much smaller than that on Karbarra, and the Sentinels were hoping for a brief campaign. The Karbarrans cheered as the Sentinels lifted off and passed through the open wedge of the dome. Lisa looked down on the planet and thought that in spite of the pain and losses the war had cost so far, the sight of a liberated planet and a free people made it worthwhile.
Still, she breathed a prayer that the worst was behind them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
In a way, the very things I've counseled the others against are what the Sentinels' mission is all about: hurling one's self into the midst of the Shapings and taking the risk that their design will not turn to one of utter tragedy.
And yet, in the Sentinels there is that added dimension that most of the species on Farrago are from Haydon's Worlds. I pray, for them, that it brings out the most benign manifestations of the Workings of the Protoculture.
Dr. Emil Lang, The New Testament
This time, Farrago went in ready for trouble, finger on trigger. The ship emerged from superluminal drive even further from Praxis than it had from Karbarra, since Lisa wanted to get a handle on the situation before any shooting started.
Encountering no immediate opposition-in fact, no sign that the Invid had detected the ship's arrival at all-Lisa moved fast to consolidate what she hoped was the advantage of total surprise. VTs launched to fly cover and screen any enemy attack; the strike forces readied for then-go signal. The flagship bore in toward the planet and still mere was no sign of a response.
"Nothing in the air, zero activity on the ground, no commo, no power sources-nothing," a tech officer reported from the GMU. "Captain Hunter, if they're playing dead, they're doing an amazing job. It looks to me like there might be nobody home."
"Oldest trick in the book," Lisa heard Jonathan Wolff murmur over the command net. But what if Wolff was wrong? She had learned to expect the unexpected from this war, and surely an uncontested landing would be the most unexpected thing of all.
She warily brought the flagship in close, but not too close, staying beyond the orbit of the outermost of Praxis's two small moons. The next move wasn't hard to figure out, but it brought her a personal pang of regret.
"Skull Leader, we're going to need recon; pick your elements and tell 'em to watch their tailerons down there."
"Roger," Max Sterling answered.
It had come as a bit of a surprise to Lisa that Rick, in returning to combat duty with his old unit, hadn't attempted to step into the command slot. But the Skulls, like the oldtime Israelis and Swiss before them, didn't let mere rank or seniority determine who flew lead.
That was decided by who had the most experience with the particular mecha, knew the current situation and tactics best, had the superior performance record, and so forth. And right now, Rick Hunter, admiral or not, was far from the top of the roster. So, he had swallowed his pride and taken his place as wingman to a young lieutenant commander who had been in high school when Rick Hunter was Skull Leader.
Still, there was no question that Rick would be going down on the flyby; with the ranks of the Skulls thinned as they were, and Max preferring to use veterans on an iffy mission like this, it was only to be expected.
At Max's command, several Alphas-Rick's among them-broke formation and mated their tail sections to the rear of the same number of the powerful Betas, forming aggregate ships with tremendously increased range and firepower. The problem was that maneuverability was decreased and mechamorphosis capability was nonexistent.
The Alpha-Beta conjoinings swept out for a pass at Praxis. The rest of the Alphas, Betas, and Logans fell back to guard Farrago under Miriya; Max had led the overflight, of course.
The mission elapsed-time counters ticked off tense minutes. But there was nothing to report, beyond the stillness on the planet and the static of the commo channels.
The Skulls were very low on fuel by the time they finished the low orbit, and Farrago moved in to retrieve them. Lisa gave the word that the second recon group go in, this time lower, and had the shuttle stand by with its landing party.
In due course, Battloids trod the deserted streets and countryside of Praxis. A contingent of Wolff's Hovertanks, with Jack Baker among them, was checking one of the largest cities on Praxis-a large coastal town, really-block by block, house by house, for use as a base of operations. Technical teams from the shuttle swore that there was nothing on or under the planet's surface higher up the evolutionary ladder than native wildlife. There were plenty of indications of Invid occupation, but the fortifications and temporary Hives were abandoned.
There was no sign of the women of Praxis.
"But-why would they leave with the Invid? What use would that be?" Gnea was close to tears.
Bela patted her shoulder. "I don't know, warrior, but we're going to find out. And woe to the Invid if we don't find our sisters well and whole."