And though the judgment had been temporarily suspended, the prefect was living on borrowed time.
From this point on, at any time, at any place, and for any infraction, real or imagined, Taakh could choose to reinstate that death sentence.
When he did, Haberdae would probably never even see it coming.
Taakh looked back at Galway. "Yae are rell?" he asked.
"I'm well enough, Your Eminence," Galway said, bracing himself. With Taakh in this mood, this might be exactly the wrong time to broach this particular subject. But on the other hand, with the Ryq's thoughts focused on Haberdae's failures—and with Galway looking that much better by comparison, especially after managing to get back to the strongpoint in time to warn about Lathe's threatened incursion into the government center—it might be precisely the right time. Either way, it was a risk he had to take. "Certainly well enough to be in Khorstron tomorrow for the blackcollars' attack."
For possibly the first time since they'd met, the khassq seemed genuinely surprised. "Khorstron? There is no reason yae need tae 'e there."
"There is every reason, Your Eminence," Galway said firmly. "Only inside Khorstron will I have all the internal sensors and recording equipment I need to follow the blackcollars' attack from start to finish."
"Re already ha' the s'y's re'orts on the 'lan."
"Which we know are incomplete," Galway reminded him. "This evening's split exercises alone prove there are more aspects to the plan than Judas knows. Besides which, all battle plans invariably undergo changes once they're launched. We need on-spot coverage to see how they deal with the unknown and the unexpected."
Taakh looked at Haberdae, back at Galway. "Hunans are not allored into Ryqril tactical centers."
"If I can't be there, we risk this whole thing being for nothing," Galway warned.
"He's right, Your Eminence," Haberdae said, coming unexpectedly to Galway's support. "If we lose even the smallest details of their attack, the Ryqril warriors who ultimately try to use their plan to storm the Daeliak-naa fortress may very well fail." He sent a hooded look at Galway. "After all the effort and lives this operation has cost, I know we would all hate to see it fail."
"Surely a khassq warrior has the authority to change or modify general orders such as this when circumstances require," Galway added, gesturing at Taakh's baldric.
"O' course I dae," Taakh said, as if that were a given. "I rill consider yaer rekest. 'Ut now it is late. Re rill return tae the city."
Galway dozed off in the van as they drove, not waking until they'd reached his building. He said his good nights to the others and trudged wearily to the elevator and from there to his apartment. His whole body felt like he'd been dropped into a fodder-baling machine, and all he wanted to do was fall onto his bed and go to sleep.
But he couldn't. Not yet.
Stepping into the apartment's compact office, he lowered himself into the desk chair and turned on the computer, digging the magnecoded card from his jacket pocket and sliding it into the reader. If all went according to plan, tomorrow would be the final climactic culmination of everything he'd prepared for and worked for and hoped for for so long.
When it came, he intended to be ready.
Propping his chin on his hands on the edge of the desk, fighting against the fatigue tugging at him, he began to read.
CHAPTER 17
Bailey spent the morning at the hospital, listening with growing impatience to the interrogator's latest futile efforts to wring something more about Aegis from the wounded Phoenix boy.
It was just after one in the afternoon when the word came that the quarry was on the move.
"They left the highway half an hour ago and headed into the mountains," Ramirez reported as Bailey strode into the situation room. Beside him, General Poirot stood silently, his face settled into the same grim expression he'd been wearing ever since the blackcollars' rescue and escape the previous evening.
Standing a pace behind the two men were Daasaa and Halaak, towering over the scene like brooding thunderclouds. "We weren't able to get a visual on the driver or passengers, but it has to be them."
Bailey ran his eyes down the readouts. The vehicle in question was a dark blue delivery van, the rear area fully enclosed with no windows, registered to one of Denver's longtime residents. "You've checked the ownership?"
"Stolen this morning," Ramirez told him. "Done very quietly, too—the owner hadn't even missed it."
And according to the picture being relayed from the spotter flying high overhead, the van was headed along the most direct route toward Shelter Valley. "It does look promising," he agreed cautiously, turning to the two Ryqril. "Battle Architect Daasaa, what would you have me do?"
Poirot stirred, but didn't speak. "Re rill ratch until they arri'e at their destination," Daasaa said. "Then re rill take they."
"Or re rill kill they," Halaak added darkly.
"As you command, Your Eminence," Bailey said, wincing at Halaak's almost casual comment. From what he'd seen over the past couple of days, killing blackcollars wasn't something even a Ryq should speak so confidently about. "Though we might want to keep them alive, at least for a while. They may have set up booby traps inside the base."
Halaak snorted contemptuously. "Ryqril rarriors can easily disarn any such tra's."
"Of course," Bailey said hastily. "I didn't mean to imply they couldn't."
"Assuming the warriors can actually get inside, that is," Poirot murmured.
"Yae rish t' s'eak, General 'Oirot?" Daasaa invited.
"I was simply wondering if this back door might have been designed so that only humans could pass,"
Poirot explained. "If I were designing such a place, I'd certainly have added choke points a Ryq wouldn't be able go get through."
"Interesting yae should suggest such a thing," Daasaa said, his tone thoughtful. "I ha' 'een rondering that nysel'."
"It seems a logical thing for them to have done," Poirot said, some of the tightness in his face easing.
Bringing a Ryq potentially bad news was always dangerous unless it was something that the Ryq already knew or suspected. In that case, the human merely came off looking brilliant.
Though considering Poirot's current position, it might only mean he would look less suspicious. Under the circumstances, Bailey suspected the general would be willing to settle for that.
"In that case, we might want to bring some of our own techs and Security men along," Ramirez suggested. "That way, if there are choke points, we won't have to take the time to send back here for them."
"Another interesting 'oint," Daasaa said. "Ha' yae already chosen the hunans yae rish tae 'ring?"
"I—" Ramirez broke off, his expression twitching as he suddenly spotted the verbal trap. "No. No, of course not, Your Eminence."
"And yae, General 'Oirot?" Daasaa asked, looking back at Poirot. "Ha' yae nade a list o' hunans for this jo'?"
"Obviously, they would have to be people we can trust," Poirot said calmly. Unlike Ramirez, he'd clearly already thought it through. "With the blackcollars and Whiplash on the loose, we can't simply grab the nearest men and hope for the best."
"Yae see the 'ro'len," Daasaa said, looking pointedly at Ramirez.
"So my suggestion would be that we assemble a team out of brand-new recruits who've just completed their loyalty-conditioning," Poirot went on. "They've been in Athena for the past three weeks, with no chance that Phoenix could have gotten to them."
"Lieutenant Ranirez?" Daasaa invited.
"Yes, that should work," Ramirez said reluctantly, eyeing Poirot. "Of course, fresh recruits won't be as competent as more seasoned men."
"How competent do they have to be?" Poirot countered. "All they have to do is go in, see what condition the back door and base are in, and come back out to report."
"Unless there are booby traps," Ramirez countered.
"Colonel 'Ailey?" Daasaa asked Bailey felt his throat tighten. They were his men, after all, who Poirot was talking so casually about sacrificing.