It is not a question with an answer. He puts his hands on the edge of the table and pushes himself to his feet. For the first time he looks terribly old to me. He reaches out a hand and places it on my shoulder. "I’m very proud of you, Ro." One by one his gaze picks out all those in the comm center, "I’m proud of all of you, everyone in The Peace."
He turns and walks from the comm center to his quarters, his steps slow and almost feeble, his back bent beneath the weight of his cares. Kita places her hand on mine. "If we’re needed I’ll have my headset with me." She rises and follows Davidge out of the center.
Reaper, Janice, and Roger work with the screens, spreading the word, making arrangements, passing on graphics to the broadcasting stations. A meeting place and time is arranged with Black October and I feel the Aeolus swinging about.
I think of Ali Enayat’s two children, one human and one Drac, neither of them biologically related to him. They must be told. I think of Sally Redfeather in her dress at that terrible bar. Reaper will tell Cudak.
I especially think of that old Drac, Toack, the one who guarded her things, the one who never left its history behind and brought the war with it into the future, the one who kept repeating its mantra: "All my children. All my children." I see Will Davidge doing the same.
It is quiet on the Dorado for the rest of the night. I go to sleep and dream that I am a child in Willis Davidge’s cave. There I learn to love, to be loved, to become love. I am a part of this wonder that is the universe, only to find that it is a trap set for me by Falna. I reach for Uncle Willy’s hand and find death. I awaken screaming and cry myself back to sleep.
FORTY-THREE
Soon after sunrise, in the hills north of Obsidian, Davidge, Kita, and I go to meet with the new leader of Black October, Paul Ruche. From the right front corner, Reaper pilots the power platform because he refuses to let us go without him. He has enough weapons concealed about his person to make it possible to sink him to the bottom of a lake of quicksilver. The Aeolus is in its usual position over the Shorda Sea, our backup authorization team―Yora, Janice, and Cudak―in place. Reaper, Kita, and I carry hand-portables and our cameras are sending, the ship relaying the feeds to the Front, the Mavedah, and to all of the splinter groups.
Hanging onto the cargo braces, we stand silently watching Ruche and his two bodyguards standing in the clearing. At their feet are two litters, a shroud-wrapped body upon each. The ship’s sensors show that Ruche has at least a company of Octoberists hidden in the woods. A trap for us? Perhaps it is only Ruche’s precaution in case the trap is ours.
As we land I look away from the Octoberists and watch Davidge. His expression is strangely calm. Last night I heard he and Kita arguing. He insisted that she remain behind. She insisted that he remain behind. The meeting though is with all of us, the ones who "run things," as Paul Ruche had put it. They at last accepted that they both would go and I hear them making love as though for the last time.
I no longer question this love between this young woman and this old man. I am learning to see beyond surfaces; a skill Will and Kita knew back on Friendship. As I listened to them, I ached for Falna’s touch. At that moment I could have forgiven it anything, just to have its arms around me.
The platform lands and I force myself into the present moment. Reaper shuts down the controls, releases his straps, and steps down onto the grassy surface of the clearing. The three of us follow, instinctively placing distance between each of us so that we cannot all be taken out with one shot.
We stop five paces from the three Octoberists. Now that we are closer, I see that one of his bodyguards is the head of Black October’s thought police, the woman Akilah Hareef. The third one I do not recognize. Ruche fixes Davidge with a stare and says, "The agreement was that we are to be unarmed. The three of us are unarmed, and the three of you are unarmed." The Octoberist I do not recognize holds up a hand scanner. "That one," Ruche says nodding toward Reaper, "is armed."
Kita smiles and says, "He balances out those hundred and forty-two armed soldiers you have watching us from the edge of the woods." As I listen, I remember the knife in my boot. I guess Ruche doesn’t consider my blade a weapon next to the pistols and disrupters Reaper has tucked here and there.
Ruche’s expression does not change. He nods at the bodies of Ali Enayat and Sally Redfeather. "As we agreed, here are your assassins."
Without looking away from Ruche, Davidge says, "Reaper."
Reaper moves until he is between the litters. He kneels down next to one and uncovers the face of the Alley Cat, the first to volunteer. It is stained with dried blood, the hair matted with it. The eyes are open and Reaper closes them. Turning to face the other litter he pulls the wrapping from the face of the corpse. It is Sally Redfeather, eyes closed, her face waxy yellow, her mouth hanging open. Reaper covers her face, stands, and looks at Paul Ruche, "She was no assassin, squid. She saved all of your lives."
"She killed Raymond," says Akilah Hareef.
"Raymond Sica was an asshole who gave an order that, had it been followed, would have done for Black October what firing those missiles did for the Tean Sindie."
"They were killing us; killing our people!"
"And now they are dead." Reaper squats down, picks Sally’s body up in his arms, and takes her back to the platform.
"What is this meeting about?" asks Davidge.
The head of Black October frowns as he seems to have difficulty arriving at a decision. The decision postponed, he continues to watch as Reaper stands from placing Sally’s body on the platform and returns for Ali Enayat. As he picks up the remains of our first volunteer, Ruche looks into Davidge’s eyes. "I needed to see you face to face. I don’t trust these broadcast images."
"You’re being televised right now," says Kita.
Akilah holds up Sally’s hand-portable, her own image on the tiny screen. "We know."
"There are no screens between you and me right now," Ruche says to Davidge. "I want to see you—your face, your eyes―when you tell me what you are doing here, on Amadeen, in this fight that has nothing to do with you."
I nod as I realize that Black October gets prohibited communications from the quarantine force orbiters. How many other groups do the same, I wonder.
"Tell me now," Roche orders. "Why are you here? What do you get out of this?"
"We are here to police the truce," Davidge repeats. "What we get out of it is the chance for the truce to work. Possibly we get peace."
I can see all of Paul Ruche’s thinking displayed on his face: Do you think I am a fool? I have seen a hundred thousand instances where Dracs have lied, betrayed, set up good men and women, and tortured and killed them. You are standing there with a Drac as your equal, your so-called police force even has a Drac name, and you had Raymond Sica murdered because he was only trying to defend us against the Tean Sindie’s bloody attack.
Reaper places his burden down on the platform next to Sally. Ruche studies him for a moment, then faces Davidge. "So, little Niagat," says Ruche, "you’re after Aydan’s blade, are you?"
In surprise I blurt out, "You know The Talman?"
"To defeat an enemy, one must know its thoughts," he answers without looking away from Davidge. "I know the story of Aydan and its search for peace." He drops his gaze for a moment, and thinks. Once he finds his Mind, he looks first at Kita, then me, then Davidge. "Aydan put together an army to end the war between the nations on Sindie; an army whose only purpose was peace."