This Day All Gods Die (34 page)

In this life, unfortunately, he couldn't afford to feel pride or be comforted. The harm of his complicity in Holt's betrayals wasn't so easily dismissed.

Moving slowly, deliberately, he rose to his feet. As best he could, he meant to look every one of his people in the eyes; face them as equals.

"Thank you, Sergeant, all of you." He wanted to whisper; but he forced himself to speak so that his voice carried across the gathering. "I appreciate your concern"—

he

spread his hands helplessly—

"more than I can describe in

words.

"But put yourselves in my place. If you respect me enough to believe I'm worth dying for, then you also respect me enough to know I feel the same way about you. That Amnioni wants to talk to me in person. And every hour we don't fight improves our chances for survival. If I can protect Earth and keep all of you alive even a little longer by risking my life, do you really think I could bear to refuse?"

One after another, he met every gaze around him. Then he straightened his shoulders, squared his chin.

"We are the UMCP. It is our duty—

and our honor—

to

serve and defend humankind." For years he'd been telling lies he hated; lies that sickened him: first Holt's, then his own.

Now he told as much of the truth as he could. "My life is a pretty small thing to risk for a chance to do my job."

And it was a small thing to risk for any chance to make sure Calm Horizons didn't simply blast Punisher as soon as the cruiser arrived. That truth he didn't tell. Even now he couldn't afford to admit how much he depended on Morn—

and Min.

He didn't need his prosthetic vision to see that he'd swayed everyone except Hashi. Their eyes were bright with conviction or blurred with tears: the same loyalty and commitment which inspired their protest left them vulnerable to his response.

To make it easier for them to give him what he needed, he shrugged ruefully and added, "Of course, doing my job won't mean shit if you don't all go back to your stations and do yours."

"Yes, sir," the young sergeant answered in a thick voice.

"Right away." Almost fiercely, he called the techs, officers, and aides to attention. Like an affirmation, they saluted the UMCP director as if they were on parade.

As a rule, Warden never returned salutes: he didn't like them. But he made an exception in this case. How could he refuse?

Nevertheless he took no time to savor the moment, or regret it. He was in a hurry. As soon as the crowd dispersed, he told one of his aides to order his shuttle for immediate departure.

The thought of delivering himself into the hands of the Amnion appalled him. He couldn't afford to put it off.

He wanted to be alone. He'd been moving to meet his doom for a long time, but now that the crisis was upon him he felt a need to gather his resources; harden his heart. Unfortunately he didn't get the chance. Hashi Lebwohl insisted on walking with him to the dock.

Hashi had taken it upon himself to req some supplies for Warden. Before they left the CO Room, a DA tech had arrived in a breathless rush to deliver two things which Hashi then handed mutely to Warden: a breathing mask and an evil-look-ing black capsule the size of a throat lozenge. Warden had accepted both, thrust them into his pockets without comment.

Instead of thanking the DA director, he'd allowed Hashi to accompany him away from Center.

Driven by fears and furies, he set a brisk pace which made no concession to Hashi's slack-heeled gait. Hashi contrived to keep up with him, however.

Hashi held his tongue only until they gained the relative privacy of UMCPHQ's open corridors. Then, in an unusually earnest tone, he spoke.

"Permit me to say, Director, that in my view this is a mistake. The Amnion have nothing to discuss with you. That is pure chicanery." He sounded certain. "They desire you as a hostage."

"A hostage?" Warden knew what Hashi meant, but he wanted to hear Hashi say if.

"To be used against Punisher," Hashi explained. "How else can they hope to extract what they want?"

"Punisher isn't here," Warden remarked shortly.

"She will arrive soon," Hashi countered. "Doubtless Min Donner will invoke Gabriel priority to obtain Isaac's cooperation. Then both Punisher and Trumpet will return at their best speed."

Warden had told no one that Holt had ordered him to betray Angus to Nick Succorso.

"There are benefits, of course," Hashi continued. "Director Donner will surely silence Trumpet's unfortunate broadcast. That threat to the Amnion will be decreased. Therefore Calm Horizons may be less inclined to open fire on both Trumpet and Punisher immediately upon their arrival.

"Nevertheless they will aggravate the more general threat. When they resume tard, they will recognize the nature of our emergency. They will become part of the cordon clos-ing around Calm Horizons—

their arrival will strengthen us. It

will weaken the defensive's position.

"This Marc Vestabule seeks to purchase the success of his incursion with the only coin he can be certain Punisher will respect. The coin of your life."

Warden had just glimpsed how fatal the loyalty of his people might become. "That," he replied heavily, "is one of the reasons Min Donner is aboard.''

Min may have been the only UMCP officer capable of sacrificing the man she served. Certainly she could be trusted to refuse a direct order—

under the right circumstances.

Under these circumstances, that made her as dangerous as Marc Vestabule.

"Ah." Hashi's sigh held a note of awe bordering on reverence. "You foresaw this also."

Warden scowled his vexation. "Not this exactly." He was in no mood to be probed—

and he was by God in no mood for

awe. "But something like it."

Hashi didn't stop. "Forgive me, Warden," he pursued. "I still fail to grasp—

"

"Let it go," Warden snapped. "It's my problem, not yours."

At once, however, he felt ashamed of himself. Hashi had always served the UMCP with integrity, imagination, and dili-gence—

at least by his own lights. As DA director, his love for covert schemes and baroque interpretations was a positive vir-tue. It wasn't his fault that he sometimes misjudged the passion which impelled Warden's actions.

To soften the impact of his anger, Warden added more gently, "I'm going to leave you plenty of other things to worry about."

•

"I will do what I can." Hashi sounded uncharacteristically subdued; diminished in some way. "In particular I will endeavor to complete our investigation of Clay Imposs and Nathan Alt."

Just for a moment Warden didn't care about that: he had no attention to spare for kazes or the GCES. Without warning he was overtaken by a desire to be understood.

He'd told so many lies and kept so many secrets for so long that he could hardly bear it. The thought of boarding Calm Horizons alone made his self-imposed isolation from everyone who valued or respected him seem insupportable. He stood by his reasons for what he'd done. Still he knew that none of the people he trusted—

Hashi, Min, and Koina, Angus

and Morn—

deserved the way he'd manipulated and maneuvered them. Now he felt a profound, poignant desire to bare his soul.

He had no time for a real confession—

no time, and not

enough courage. But he could give Hashi a hint. For the DA director, a hint would suffice.

"Listen," he said abruptly. "I have something to tell you, and I can't wait for another opportunity."

Although the corridors were empty, cleared by the call to defense stations, he kept his voice low. But he resisted an impulse to bend his head down to Hashi's. Instead he continued to stride ahead, forcing Hashi to keep pace with him.

"I had more than one reason for sending Min aboard Punisher. I wanted to protect her from what's about to happen on Suka Bator. From being tainted by Koina's revelations.

And I wanted her to help keep Morn alive. In fact, I ordered her to do that. Because I'm hoping—

"

He spoke without glancing aside at the DA director.

"Morn and Angus have already gone beyond my expecta-tions. Broadcasting that formula, for God's sake! I never imagined they would have the resources to survive this long and still cause so much trouble. But I'm hoping for something more."

Hashi made a small, hissing sound through his teeth, but didn't respond in any other way.

"When Morn gets here," Warden went on, "I hope"—

pray—

"she'll be willing to testify that Angus was framed." If she did the blow would rock Holt's power to its foundations.

"And if she is willing, Min is the only one of us with enough moral authority left to make it happen." The Council already distrusted Hashi. And Koina would effectively ruin Warden himself. "She might persuade Morn to talk. She can certainly make the Council listen."

Is that clear enough? he asked Hashi mutely. Do I have to spell it out?

He wanted Hashi to understand that he'd done everything in his power to bring all his separate attacks on Holt together at the same time.

Still Hashi said nothing. After a moment or two the silence compelled Warden to turn his head.

Hashi cleared his throat without returning Warden's gaze.

"Are you bidding me farewell, Warden?" Unexpected emotions congested his voice. "Do you assume—

as I do—

that

once you've become Marc Vestabule's hostage he will never release you?"

"Not necessarily." Warden shrugged grimly. "Who knows what miracles Morn and Angus can accomplish? But I do assume that whether I live or die I'm going to be charged with treason."

He only hoped that Holt would fall with him when he finally cut all the ground out from under his own feet.

At last Hashi raised his head to look at Warden.

"It occurs to me that I have not thanked you for revealing the substitution of Captain Thermopyle's datacore." His eyes emanated a moist heat that Warden had never seen in them before. In some way Warden's openness had touched the DA director's cunning, unscrupulous heart. "That knowledge shamed me greatly, I had not grasped the true depth of your intentions. Nevertheless I am grateful. I admire your resourcefulness. You have allowed me an insight which I value. Like-wise I value your purpose. And I understand the necessity of keeping it hidden.

"I will serve you with every resource at my command."

To his surprise, Warden found that his fear had suddenly shed some of its sharpness. After all, he was a man who loved the truth far more than his life so far had shown—

the truth;

and the people who served him.

Smiling crookedly to himself, he faced forward and kept on walking.

For a couple of minutes Ha$hi seemed lost in thought.

Then he broke the silence. "Speaking of miracles—

"Warden, have you studied the entire contents of Captain Thermopyle's datacore?" He'd composed himself: his voice had regained its habitual wheeze of ambiguity and misdirection.

Warden shook his head. "I couldn't duplicate your work." He found it easier to talk now. "I didn't have time. In any case, I'm not that good. I concentrated on writing new instruction-sets in regard to Morn. Everything else I left alone.

I didn't even look at most of your code," he admitted.

"Then I should tell you," Hashi said as if he were starting a lecture, "that his design includes several failsafes. Most I discussed with you. A few I kept secret"—

he chuckled

mirthlessly—

"for reasons not unlike your own. The prospect that our lamented Godsen might learn of them disturbed me.

"They take the form of commands which may be invoked without reference to Isaac's priority-codes. Indeed, they super-sede all other programming. I believe they will be effective."

Warden didn't know whether to be pleased or horrified.

"Go on," he muttered noncommittally.

Hashi clearly had no intention of stopping. "One such command," he stated, "enables full, voluntary access to all his databases. As you know, his primary instruction-sets supply data at need rather than on demand. But if he hears the word 'apotheosis' his databases will be released. In effect, he will know all that we know on a variety of subjects"—

the DA

director gave the words a subtle emphasis, as if he meant Warden to hear something larger behind them—

"among them our

ships, UMCPHQ, and many of Earth's orbital platforms."

Warden paused in midstride to stare at the DA director.

" 'Apotheosis'?"

Hashi grinned smugly. "You will understand that I required a word which he would be unlikely to hear from anyone but us."

That was true. But still—

apotheosis?

With an effort Warden pushed himself into motion again.

Hashi's respiration began to show the strain of matching Warden's pace.

"Another, similar command will free him from all restriction in his response to UMCP—

or UMC—

personnel.

Hearing the word 'vasectomy' will enable him to harm or kill anyone who interferes with him. Anyone at all."

" 'Vasectomy'?" Warden shook his head in bemusement.

"Well, damn it, Hashi. Sometimes I'm forced to admire your sense of humor. I just can't help myself."

He had no idea whether or not Hashi's failsafes would do him any good; but he approved of them anyway. He could imagine—

or pray for—

circumstances—

"Is there more?" he inquired.

"Just one," Hashi replied shortly. He appeared to lack the breath for complex sentences. "The word 'sepulcher' will invoke self-destruct. His zone implants will fry his brain to jelly."

Warden winced. He'd already done Angus too much hurt: he didn't like to think that he might be forced to go further.

Unfortunately he could imagine worse fates.

Boarding Calm Horizons alone might be one of them.

Despite Marc Vestabule's promises, the Amnion had nothing to gain by releasing him.

How much of Vestabule's human capacity for treachery did the Amnioni remember?