"They weren't walkers," Fayr interrupted her. "Not anymore. The preliminaries have ended, Bayta. The war has begun in earnest." He nodded in the direction of the hotel. "Those Halkas were soldiers."
"Only under the Modhri's influence," Bayta persisted.
"What do you mean, soldiers?" I asked. There'd been something extra ominous in Fayr's voice just then.
"The Modhri has changed tactics," Fayr said, shifting his attention from Bayta to me. "He knows he can no longer rely on untrained walkers to suddenly act when necessary. He has therefore begun to build a cadre of dedicated fighters under his continual control."
I felt a shiver run up my back. "Zombies," I murmured.
"What are zombies?" Fayr asked.
"Something from Earth legend," I told him. "Corpses magically reanimated and under the control of the voodoo priest who brought them back."
Fayr nodded. "That is exactly what these soldiers are. The beings those Halkan bodies once contained are long gone."
"Are those consciousnesses actually dead, then?" Bayta asked. Clearly, she still wasn't ready to concede this one. "Or are they merely suppressed, the way any walker's personality is when the Modhri takes control?"
"Does it matter?" Fayr asked.
"Of course it matters," Bayta shot back. "In the first case all you did was end the Modhri's use of innocent beings he'd already killed. In the second, you're the one who killed those innocent beings."
"What about what we did on the Quadrail train after Sistarrko?" I asked.
Her eyes flicked reluctantly to me, a bit of color again showing briefly in her cheeks. "We had no choice," she insisted.
"Neither did Korak Fayr," I said.
"The situations aren't the same," she said. "If we hadn't killed those walkers, we ourselves would have died." She looked back at Fayr. "Here, we could simply have run away."
"Leaving them alive and free to create more havoc about the galaxy?" Fayr countered. He seemed more puzzled than angry at her criticism. "A poisonous grounlyve is also not responsible for its actions as a predatory creature. Yet when a gardener finds one among his seedlings, he kills it without second thought."
For a few seconds the room was filled with a taut silence as he and Bayta stared across the room at each other. Then, abruptly, Bayta got up from the couch and strode to the door we'd come in through. "Bayta, I don't think that's—" I called softly.
She pulled open the door and stomped out, closing it behind her. "—a good idea," I finished, getting reluctantly to my feet. "I'll go get her."
"She'll be careful," Fayr said, his eyes hard on me. "While she's gone, perhaps you'll tell me what the difficulty is."
"We're on the trail of a sculpture that the Modhri wants for some reason," I said. "He's also taken hostages—"
"Not your mission," he interrupted. "Tell me what the difficulty is between you and Bayta."
I grimaced. I hadn't thought Bayta's snit was that obvious.
But then, Fayr was a trained observer. "She thinks I've been unprofessional with a client," I told him. "Actually, the lady's not really a client. She's a—well, we just sort of fell in with her along the way."
"This is the female Human I saw with the Modhran walkers?"
"Right," I said. "As I said, she's being held hostage. The other Human you saw is—"
"Have you been unprofessional with the female?"
"What kind of a question is that?" I growled.
"A quite reasonable one," he said calmly.
"And it's your business how?"
"Do you and Bayta intend to walk out of here right now and not contact me again?" he asked pointedly. "No? Then a problem between allies is very much my business."
I sighed. It had been a stupid thing for me to say "I know," I said. "I'm sorry."
He inclined his head, wrinkling his chipmunk nose a little in acceptance of my apology. "Then tell me. Have you been acting unprofessionally?"
"I was just being friendly to her," I said. "For some reason, Bayta's blowing the whole thing way out of proportion."
The second part, I told myself firmly, was certainly true. The first part was just as certainly open to legitimate debate, no matter what Bayta might think.
"You must talk to her," Fayr said. "You must listen to her complaints and straighten out the coldness between you."
"Right," I growled. "In case you hadn't noticed, we're a little busy right now, what with the Modhri and everything."
"You will make the time," Fayr said, the weight of command in his tone. "Lack of trust and care between allies carries a risk more deadly even than the enemy."
"I don't know about that," I muttered. But he was right, and we both knew it. "Fine. Next opportunity I get, I'll talk to her. Meanwhile, why exactly did you call us here?"
"You mentioned a sculpture a moment ago," he said. "I presume, then, that you have heard of the nine Nemuti sculptures called Vipers, Lynxes, and Hawks?"
I nodded. "As a matter of fact, I happened to be with the owner of one of the Lynxes when he died."
"Of natural causes?"
"Hardly," I said grimly. "He was beaten to death. In a Quadrail first-class compartment, no less."
"Interesting," Fayr said. "The price for these sculptures continues to rise."
"Tell me about it," I said. "How come you know about them?"
"I was approached by a Bellido collector who had one of the Hawks in his possession," Fayr said. "He offered a great deal of money if we would obtain the Viper for him from the art museum here in Magaraa City."
I felt my eyebrows climbing my forehead. "You were going to steal it?"
"You disapprove?" Fayr asked stiffly.
"Not really any of my business," I hastened to assure him. "Even for commandos operating alone, a war is expensive."
"Especially for commandos operating alone," Fayr said, sounding somewhat mollified. Probably wasn't crazy about hiring himself out as a thief, either. "At any rate, I came here to examine the museum and its contents in order to prepare a plan, only to discover the Viper had already been stolen."
"Apparently by the Modhri," I said.
"Apparently by the Modhri," he agreed. He cocked his head. "But perhaps only apparently stolen."
"Meaning?"
"The scene of the event has not been changed," he said. "When the additional police presence in the vicinity of the hotel has been lifted, we'll go there and you can see for yourself."
"What, now?" I asked, glancing at my watch. It was only a little past seven, local time. "They don't stay open evenings?"
"Normally, yes," Fayr said. "Tonight they've closed early."
"Handy," I murmured. "On the other hand, I did tell the Modhri I wanted to go there."
"Yes, I heard some of that discussion," Fayr said. "Did you genuinely mean it?"
"Not all that genuinely," I said. "It was really only a cover story, first so I could get a ways ahead of the crowd, and second to give us a reason to move into range of your bag of tricks once I'd spotted you. But the Modhri might not realize that."
For a moment Fayr pondered in silence. "I think he will," he said at last. "The Modhri has had a great deal of experience with your tactical methods. He'll surely conclude that the museum request was the feint that it indeed was."
"He might still plant a couple of walkers in the area," I warned. "He has plenty to spare."
"In actual fact, he doesn't," Fayr said with a sort of grim satisfaction. "Not at the moment. Tra'ho balance is strongly tied to their eyes and vision. For the next three or four days, until the effects of the sunburst grenade fade away, the Modhri's local walkers will be largely confined to their beds."
"That's handy," I said. "Of course, that still leaves the rest of the walkers he's got on Ghonsilya."
"If there are more," Fayr said. "There may not be. Ghonsilya is a small and fairly unimportant world, with few people of great wealth and power. It's entirely possible that he drew in his entire walker contingent for this occasion."