Six months later, I stood at the edge of the icecap that covered Yandro’s Great Polar Sea and waited for the enemy to appear.
He came in the form of a dumpy little man in a polar suit who emerged from a small meteorological station perched on the Polar Sea’s rocky shore. “Hello,” he called as he walked toward me. “Can I help you?”
“Hello, Modhri,” I said. “Remember me?”
For a moment the man just stared. Then his eyes seemed to go blank, his face sagged briefly, and he nodded. “Compton,” he said, his voice subtly changed. “You who disappeared, only to return from the dead.”
“Which is more than can be said for that particular segment of your mind, of course,” I said. “My condolences.”
“A great mystery, still unsolved,” the Modhri said. “Would you care to tell me the story?”
“There’s not much to tell,” I said. “The mind segment tried to kill me. I killed him instead.”
“And now you face me here,” the Modhri said, his eyes glittering with anticipation. “A very accommodating Human, saving me the trouble of preparing a suitable death for you in the far reaches of the galaxy.”
“I’m afraid you have it backwards,” I told him mildly. “It’s
you
who’s about to die.”
“Really,” he said, his eyes still glittering as he took a step toward me. “You against me, as it was aboard the Quadrail?”
“Actually, this time it’s going to be a little more one-sided.” I gestured to my right at the torchcruiser squatting on the rocks, its hatchway sitting open. “Recognize it?”
He glanced in that direction, turned his eyes back to me. “No,” he said, taking another step forward. “Should I?”
“I would think so,” I said. “I would assume you’d keep track of every vehicle in the entire Yandro system.”
He paused, a frown creasing his forehead as he took a longer look at the torchcruiser. The frown deepened as he looked back at me. “You’ve repainted and renumbered one of them,” he accused.
I shook my head. “No. It’s a brand-new vehicle, never before seen in this system.”
I pointed upward. “So are the three Chafta 201 ground-assault bombers that are currently mapping out the extent of your coral beds.”
The walker stiffened, throwing an involuntary glance at the darkening sky. “Impossible!” he hissed. “No vehicle parts or weapons systems have come into this system in over a year.”
“Not through your Quadrail station, anyway,” I agreed. “Not through the station you’ve built up such careful defenses around. But then, you didn’t know, did you?”
“Know what?”
I smiled. “That Yandro now has
two
Quadrail stations.”
He stared at me, his breath coming in quick puffs of white frost. “No,” he whispered.
“It’s more of a siding than a full-service station, actually,” I continued. “Very small, with no amenities whatsoever. But it has a parking area, unloading cranes, a couple of cargo hatchways, and enough Spiders to unpack and assemble four spacecraft and all the weaponry that go with them. Only half a trillion for the whole collection, plus another half trillion for the siding itself. A bargain all around.”
“You lie,” he insisted, his voice taking on a vicious edge. “I would have known if such money was missing. I have many walkers among the lesser beings at the United Nations.”
“Yes, the same behind-the-scenes people who helped push through the Yandro colonization in the first place,” I said, nodding. “That’s why we did the whole thing with private money, with no trail for your walkers to follow.”
“I see,” the Modhri said, his voice as bitter as the air temperature. “I should have killed you two years ago instead of merely having you fired.”
“You probably should have,” I agreed. “But then, you couldn’t really do that, could you? Any more than you could haul me into JhanKla’s Quadrail compartment or over to the resort casino waterfall and just rake me bodily across the coral. You didn’t know who else might be watching, and you absolutely couldn’t risk doing anything so blatant that it would draw attention to Humans and the Ter-ran Confederation. You had to play it exactly as you always did, and hope you could either infect me just like any other walker or else find a way to use me against Fayr’s commandos.”
I inclined my head at him. “Unfortunately for you, both attempts failed.”
“I underestimated you,” he murmured. “Very well. What are my options?”
I lifted my eyebrows. “Options?”
“You wouldn’t have come here merely to gloat,” he said. The anger and shock were gone now, replaced with something cold and calculating. “What do you want? Wealth? Power?”
“Ah, so we’re going with the three wishes thing,” I said, pulling out a comm.
“As many wishes as you choose,” he said, his voice smooth and seductive and utterly sincere. “I can give you anything you want.”
“I’ll settle for a promise,” I said, my finger poised over the comm’s power switch. “That you’ll bring all the rest of your outposts back here, and that you’ll let the colonies inside your walkers die. You can live here in peace, but that’s all you can do.”
He hesitated, then sighed. “Very well,” he said. “If there is no other way.”
“There isn’t.” I gestured to the man. “You can start by releasing this one.”
The walker’s eyes narrowed slightly. Then, with another sigh, he nodded. “As you wish.” He took a deep breath, and suddenly the man gave a violent twitch, blinking in obvious confusion. “What—?” he said, glancing around and then looking back at me. “Did you—I’m sorry; were you saying something?”
“No,” I assured him. “It’s all right now.” Nodding, I turned to go.
Hooking his gloved hands into talons, he leaped.
I jumped away, but not far enough. His outstretched hand slapped hard, knocking the comm out of my hand. “You fool,” he bit out savagely, grabbing my wrist with one hand and yanking me toward him with unexpected strength. “And now you
will
die.”
He was reaching his other hand toward my throat when the thundercrack of a gun came from the open door of my torchcruiser, the impact of the shot throwing him flat onto his back. He skidded a meter across the ice and lay still.
I staggered a bit as I stepped over to him, trying to avoid the bright blood spreading out over the whiteness, my ears ringing with the sound of the gunshot. “Thank you,” I said to the Modhri inside him. “That was what I needed to know.”
McMicking had joined me by the time I retrieved my comm. “I thought we agreed to use snoozers,” I said.
“
You
agreed to use snoozers,” he corrected me calmly. “I didn’t think it would be smart to take that chance. Besides, the Modhri would have had to kill him anyway once he’d used him to murder you.”
“I suppose,” I conceded, grimacing down at the dead man.
“Casualty of war,” McMicking said. “You ready?”
I nodded, and keyed on the comm. “This is Grounder,” I said. “Alpha code beta code omicron. Commence attack.”
“Acknowledged,” a terse voice came back.
McMicking and I were back in the torchcruiser and starting to lift off when the fire began raining onto the ice and the hidden coral below.
Bayta was waiting for me when I arrived at our agreed-upon Terra Station restaurant. “Well?” she asked anxiously as I sat down across the table from her.
“It’s done,” I told her. “They hit it, did a second scan, hit it again, and did one final scan. It’s all gone.”
She took a deep breath. “Thank you.”
“No thanks needed,” I assured her. “So what happens now?” She gave me a wistful smile. “I fulfill my part of the bargain, of course.”
“No, I meant what happens with the rest of the Modhran mind,” I said. “The outposts and the walkers. What are you going to do about them?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “If the mind goes dormant, we can probably leave everything as it is. If not—if what’s left continues trying to grow and spread his influence—I suppose we’ll have to try to stop it.” Her lip twitched. “I mean…
they’ll
have to try to stop it.”
“You won’t be helping?”
“I doubt I’ll be of much use to them anymore,” she said, her gaze dropping to the table. “I’m not even sure how much will be… you know. How much of me will be left.”
“You’re very close, aren’t you?” I asked quietly. “I mean, the two of you.”
She gave a little shrug. “I don’t know how to describe it,” she said. “The goal of the Modhri was to bring all things into himself. The goal with me was to create someone composed of two separate beings who could yet genuinely act as one. It’s going to be like losing half of what I am.”
“Then why do it?” I asked. “You’ve gotten what you wanted from me. If this melding and this combined person are so important, why not just renege on your promise?”
“Because this person is only one of my friends,” she said, looking up at me again. “You’re my friend, too. And friends don’t do that to each other.”
I felt a lump forming in my throat. “You told me once I wasn’t your friend.”
She winced. “I couldn’t afford to be, then.”
“Couldn’t
afford
to be?”
“That’s why I couldn’t tell you everything the night before the raid,” she said tiredly. “I couldn’t let you trust me. Not completely. If I did, or if I’d allowed even a spark of friendship between us—” Her throat tightened. “That Saarix in your carrybags wasn’t for you, Frank. The Spiders hid it there because it was safer than hiding it in mine. But it wasn’t for you. It was for me.”
“I see,” I said, a creepy feeling whispering through me. That possibility had never even crossed my mind. “So you were willing to give up your life for your people.”
She nodded. “For my people, and for the rest of the galaxy.”
“And now you’re willing to do the same for me?” I persisted. “Even now that the biggest danger is gone?”
“To make amends, yes.”
“Even though you don’t think the woman is worse off than she would have been without your interference?”
“I made a promise,” she said simply.
“Suppose I released you from that promise?”
The stiffness of her expression cracked, a flicker of hope peeping through. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’ve thought it through a little since then,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Like I said, you could have reneged, laughed in my face, and walked off onto the next Quadrail. But you didn’t.”
“Because you’re my friend.”
“Because you have integrity,” I corrected. I wasn’t entirely ready to accept her friendship. Not yet. “Besides, what’s left of the Modhri may not be considerate enough to simply roll over and die. If he doesn’t, we’ll need all the resources we can get to defeat him.”
“
We
?”
“I still have my Quadrail pass,” I reminded her. “And with Hardin still steaming, the less time I spend in the Terran Confederation, the better.” I consulted my watch. “The next Quadrail to the Bellidosh Estates-General will be hitting the platform in fifteen minutes. This morning’s news said another coral display on Bellis had been mysteriously vandalized, so I presume Fayr and his commandos are still alive and kicking. I thought I might head over there and try to reestablish contact with him.”
“Good idea,” she said, getting to her feet. “Would you—I mean—”
“Like a little companionship?” I finished for her as I stood up as well. “I thought you’d never ask.”
She paid the bill, and we headed for the platform. “There’s something I never got around to asking you,” she said as we skirted around a drudge carrying a piece of oversized luggage toward one of the other platforms. “Back on the Quadrail, McMicking said something about Mr. Hardin protecting his investments. What did he mean by that?”
“He meant me,” I told her. “Hardin had hired me for a private job.
Just
hired me, in fact—we’d only just finalized the details when your messenger showed up with that Quadrail ticket.”
“I didn’t know that,” she said, her voice suddenly sounding wary. “You never said anything to Hermod about another job.”
“I thought it might have been a little awkward,” I said with a shrug. “You know these ultra-rich people—always looking for new challenges, new vistas, new business conquests. And always in dead secret, of course, lest some competitor get wind of the plan and beat them to it.”
“I suppose,” she said doubtfully. “What were you supposed to do for him?”
I smiled as I gazed down the Tube. In a universe awash in irony, this was the best one of them all. “He wanted me to find a way for him to take over the Quadrail system,” I told her. “I think that’s our train coming now.”