"No problem," Lord Kelsey-Ramos grunted. "Just keep in mind that I can't make any promises. Well, I'll see you in the morning. Good-night, and sleep well."
Sleep well. With a hundred ninety-two alien spacecraft streaking toward destruction... "Yes, sir," I sighed. "Good-night."
Chapter 30
They arrived precisely at nine the next morning, flying in from commission headquarters in a sleek Pravilo aircar. We left half an hour later by mul/terrain vehicle, the intervening time taken up largely by a quiet yet sharp argument between Lord Kelsey-Ramos and Dr. Eisenstadt. I wasn't close enough to hear any of the words, but from the body language I could see I gathered that Eisenstadt, his curiosity piqued, was asking to come along on this expedition and that Lord Kelsey-Ramos was refusing him. From Eisenstadt's expression it was obvious he thought Lord Kelsey-Ramos was simply trying to cut anyone else out of whatever credit might come out of it, and he was understandably irritated by the thought of an amateur poking around scientific matters and possibly fouling them up in the process.
I could almost have wished it was indeed something that petty. To me, knowing him as I did, it was uncomfortably clear that Lord Kelsey-Ramos was limiting the group to himself, Kutzko, and me because he was expecting trouble and wanted to limit the number of potential casualties.
A noble attitude... but as we drove off into the wilderness, I couldn't help but reflect how much easier it was to applaud such consideration when it was someone else's neck on the line.
—
We drove for about an hour before Lord Kelsey-Ramos finally found what he was looking for.
"There," he pointed, offering me his noculars for a closer look. "Up there on the hillside—that single thunderhead in the middle of that weed patch?"
I nodded. The "weed patch," as he called it, was familiar enough—the sort of thick growth that Eisenstadt's studies had found was encouraged by the thunderheads' periodic root disintegrations. A few small insects were visible circling the vegetation, but other than that I could find no sign of other animal life. Shifting my angle, I gave the entire area a quick sweep. There were other thunderheads scattered around on nearby hills, but as near as I could tell none of them were in direct line of sight with the one Lord Kelsey-Ramos had picked out. "It's as isolated as we're likely to find," I agreed. "Do we get to know yet why that's important?"
He swung the car door open, and I could sense him bracing himself. "Take the noculars and head up," he said over his shoulder, an odd tightness in his voice. "Not too close—maybe by that rock outcrop over there." He pointed. "Some place where you can see everything. And keep your phone on—I don't want us to have to shout back and forth. Kutzko, where did you stow the box?"
"Left side storage," Kutzko told him. "I'll get it."
"No, I'll do it. You take the recorder and get up there with Gilead—find some place more or less opposite from him."
I looked at Kutzko, read the same uneasiness and uncertainty there that I was feeling. "Lord Kelsey-Ramos—"
"Get moving," he cut me off, moving around the back of the car to the storage compartment Kutzko had indicated and popping it open.
I didn't move. "Lord Kelsey-Ramos, there's only a limited amount of help we can give you if we don't know what it is you're trying to do."
He paused, indecision in his sense. Glancing past him, I saw a long box in the open storage compartment, a box made of metal and a heavy, opaque mesh. Lying beside the box was a set of heavy gloves; from the box itself came a faint scratching sound...
I looked back up at Lord Kelsey-Ramos, found his eyes on me. "It's one of the weasels you talked about yesterday, isn't it?" I asked carefully.
"The proper scientific name is laska myesist-something-or-other," he said with forced casualness. "And there are actually four of them in there."
"You want to see how the thunderheads fight," Kutzko said quietly, hand drifting automatically closer to his needler.
"I want to see how the thunderheads defend themselves in the wild," Lord Kelsey-Ramos corrected. "There's a difference."
Kutzko looked up the hill at our target thunderhead and slid the recorder strap off his shoulder. "Here, sir," he said, offering it to Lord Kelsey-Ramos. "If you and Gilead will get in position, I'll bring the cage."
Lord Kelsey-Ramos shook his head. "Sorry, Kutzko, but this one is mine."
"I insist sir," Kutzko said, an edge to his voice.
"As do I," Lord Kelsey-Ramos told him icily. "This is my idea, and it could be dangerous. I'll do it."
Kutzko's sense hardened a bit more. "My job, sir, is to protect you," he said. "I intend to carry out that job... and if I have to lock you in the car, you won't be able to watch what happens very well."
Lord Kelsey-Ramos locked eyes with him. "I'm giving you an order, Kutzko. You will blazing-well obey it."
"Gilead?" Kutzko invited.
I took a deep breath. The last time the thunderheads had even suspected they were about to be attacked they'd brought enough heat energy to bear to melt and fuse metal. What this one might do in the face of what was, in effect, a genuine attack... "I'm willing to handle the recorder," I sighed, "if you need to lock him in the car."
Lord Kelsey-Ramos turned his glare on me; but behind the anger I could detect a growing resignation... and more than a little grudging appreciation. "When we get back I'm going to have to teach you two the distinction between loyalty and disobedience," he growled at last, reluctantly taking the recorder that Kutzko still held out. "Take them no closer than ten meters to the thunderhead, Kutzko, and watch out for teeth and claws when you open the box. And then get back down the hill."
"Yes, sir," Kutzko nodded, reaching for the gloves.
"And be careful," he added. "Come on, Gilead, let's get up there."
We climbed together for the first thirty meters or so, then split apart, me heading for the outcropping he'd pointed out earlier as he made for a slight dimple in the ground that would shield him at least somewhat from anything the thunderhead chose to shoot his direction. I watched the thunderhead the whole time; but though I could tell he was aware of us, there was no hostility that I could detect. I could only pray that that wouldn't change.
Kutzko waited until we were in position before starting up himself. I kept my eyes on the thunderhead, wondering if I could shout a warning fast enough if I detected hostility... wondered if I would even know in time what thunderhead hostility looked like. Heart thudding in my ears, I almost missed hearing Lord Kelsey-Ramos's quiet words from my phone: "Okay, Gilead, he's released the laskas. He's falling back—no sign of any attack on him... the laskas are moving forward... okay, here they come. Keep watching the thunderhead."
I bit tightly down on the back of my lip. In my peripheral vision, now, I could see the four laskas stalking their way forward through the light undergrowth. And the thunderhead had noticed; I could sense the heightened awareness, though how much of that was now focused on the animals and how much still on us I couldn't tell. I risked a glance at the laskas, saw no sign that they were in any kind of distress.
So the thunderhead hadn't yet fired. Was he waiting for the predators to get closer? I thought back to the Butte City, trying to recall every nuance of the sense I'd felt when the thunderheads there had lashed out at Kutzko's needler. "No lasers yet," Lord Kelsey-Ramos murmured into my thoughts. "Maybe he knows we're recording and is hoping he won't have to demonstrate his weaponry for us."
A thought that hadn't occurred to me... but if that was what the thunderhead was banking on, I could already see that it was a futile hope. The laskas had the sight or scent of him now, and were moving steadily forward.