//A promise, Krinata?//
She frowned. //No—a prediction.//
//And how would Takora decide?//
//That's not fair,// she objected.
Ill know.// Takora had once opted to take her Oliat with her to oblivion. Would she do it again?
Finally Krinata met his gaze. //Takora's had no vital objective worth seven lives to achieve. We do.//
She was right—a habit with her. And he had resolved to make the decisions a Center must. //You've all been lulled into a false sense of security by the dangers we have already survived. We're not talking about danger now, we're talking about certain death.//
A somber stillness settled over them all. They were unanimously willing. But it was his decision. He knew what he had! to do, but his worst regret was that by doing this he'd be violating his Priest's vow to Cyrus to return Krinata to him. It would be the first major breach in his integrity since his Inversion. What does it matter? I'm giving up Completion, anyway. But something in him stubbornly refused to believe that. If there's any path out of this, it lies straight ahead.
//We go into the field. On pensone. Trinarvil, will you get the vial?// He adjusted the linkages so Trinarvil wouldn't be bothered with multiawareness and announced, //Meanwhile we'll survey the situation. This Oliat will succeed before we die.// Why did I add that? My promises aren't worth anything anymore.
//Good,// agreed Krinata. Then she offered, //Besides, we have to get the whule back. Lelwatha would never forgive Jindigar if he lost it to someone who couldn't play it.//
Darllanyu asked, //Jindigar, is that why you like humans?//
//One of the important reasons, yes.//
A warmth suffused the linkages and made his Oliat whole, as if they had just met the real Krinata, the Krinata who had dragged him across the galaxy, saving his life time after time, refusing to give up no matter how hopeless it became. Suddenly it became very hard not to hope they would survive.
Refusing to let the feeling grow, he flung their awareness wide, encompassing the entire settlement. The colonists had worked in shifts to construct an assault on the hive's position. Now deep furrows were clearly visible in the ground, leading from the river to the ships—water channels that were almost ready to be flooded.
On the ground just beyond the new trenches an arrangement of large wooden shafts and levers was being raised upright. It was a catapult with a person-sized basket at the top of the throwing arm. A thick cable led from the basket off toward the south—to the power station at the waterfall. A Cassrian was strapped into the basket, both arms wrapped around his head as if the swaying of the basket made him ill. '• ,,
The area where the ships were parked was now encircled by a solid barrier of dirt and rocks compacted into the classic foundation for a hive-dome.
The Oliat could see why the hive had gravitated to the shipyard. By chance the ships had been parked around a central monster of an orbit-to-orbit vessel that had been floated down by tenders so it could be cannibalized for parts. It jutted above the large ships next to it, which in turn dwarfed the smaller ships around them, and the whole array formed a dome-shaped outline.
Not one ship was still spaceworthy, but in every one, the Natives who were not working on the hive-dome or digging the well in the middle of the dome area were building fires and preparing food they had brought with them.
At even intervals around the new dome foundation, clusters of hivebinders faced outward, vigilantly. The hive-mind behind them was shaky but recovered.
Zannesu interpreted his Reception. //They don't know what Terab is up to, but they understand that those trenches are meant to be a threat.//
//She'll have to break their foundation before she can get the water around the bases of the ships,// observed Jindigar, wondering how long the crude generator could electrify the ship's hulls—and how much real damage that might possibly do. They could only plant one cable at a time, and the Cassrian who rode the catapult with that cable would never return.
//Why such an elaborate scheme?// asked Darllanyu.
//It seems,// answered Jindigar., //that our ephemeral allies have finally discovered that attacking in force doesn't work on Phanphihy. They probably think the primitives won't understand what hit them.//
Terab, plastered with half-dried mud, came onto the field leading a party of burly Holot. They carried charges of chemical explosives in all four arms and walked on their hind legs, stepping carefully. A demolition crew.
The hive had not missed their approach. Below the rim of the foundation, warriors, unsure of what sort of attack they faced, crept bravely to the point targeted by Terab's party.
//Jindigar, we've got to stop them!// Krinata gathered her legs under her, as if to make for the door. But then she halted, and Jindigar sensed the conflicting impulses in her. Determined not to usurp Center again, she looked back at Jindigar.
He adjusted the Outreach link so she got only a comfortable trickle of information but4old her, //There's nothing we can do but watch. Even if we could get there in time, we aren't stable enough yet to work on a battlefield.//
Before Terab's demolition crew reached the foundation, the warriors leapt out at them, throwing weapons flying and spears thrusting. The universe spun into an insane distortion—the hive's defense.
Reeling from the mental impact, dodging their attackers, the demolition crew swarmed onto the barrier. One by one they placed their charges and turned to flee. The warriors, unaware of their danger, attacked the fleeing Holot.
The hivebinders increased their efforts. Suddenly one of the demolition crew hurled his explosives aside and went after one of his fellow Holot. The Oliat saw the hideous monster he fought so heroically. Three other Holot scrabbled to disarm the charges they had just placed, deluded into believing that they were about to destroy a priceless work of art. Nearby a Holot female, with gleaming teeth bared, heaved at an invisible monster and stood up straight, as if in victory. Then, sanity once again in her eyes, she glanced around and saw Terab leading a pitched battle against the warriors.
With quiet dignity the Holot female bent to the charge primer, and Jindigar knew what she was doing. Frantically he grabbed up the linkages and pulled in the Reception.
The horror he felt and the horror he anticipated joined as the explosion erupted. Their own flesh tore apart. Chunks of themselves went flying, showering blood onto the ground.
Cringing, Jindigar yanked them free and sent the Oliat spinning into blackness. The horror followed them, churning the blackness with nightmares. Jindigar gripped the linkages and focused on the worldcircle, tapping into the balm of Dushaun. Then he eased them back to limited awareness.
Krinata slumped to the floor where, she stood. The others knelt or hugged themselves. The hive's defense redoubled in volume. Anchoring to the worldcircle, Jindigar, inspired by desperation, organized the linkages so their multiawareness cross-checked each perception and accepted only what seemed the same to all of them, sifting reality from hallucination.
It made an incredible tangle of the linkages, but within moments the others pushed upright, blinking hard at Jindigar as they sorted out this new function. Real images became extra-bright translucencies surrounded with white halos of world-circle energy. Hallucinations appeared transparent and pale next to the real—but sometimes there were many layers of hallucinatory images. If I could have done this for Eithlarin....