Cobra Alliance

'Thanks.' Jonny glanced at Chrys, mindful of his promise of a vacation. But her eyes were worried, and she nodded fractionally. 'All right, I'll try to show up. Start collecting everything that comes through on that dead spine leopard for me—we're going to want to ID its killer as fast as possible.'

'Understood, sir.'

'Thanks for calling. Good-night.' Jonny broke the connection and again shut off the phone. Looking up at Chrys, he opened his mouth to apologize... but she got in the first word.

'Gwen and Cally are both going to Paleen,' she said quietly. 'If something that dangerous is in the vicinity...' She shuddered. 'Should I go ahead and take them back to Rankin in the morning?'

Jonny sighed. 'Yeah, probably. No telling how long that meeting will take. Though on second thought... if I was running Dawa District, I'd probably cancel Cally's orientation week and hustle him right down to Paleen for guard duty. Maybe you'd better just take Gwen and leave Cally here. If he gets his orders, I can run him down there and get a firsthand look at the spine leopard while I'm at it.'

'And maybe join in the hunt?' She held up a hand against his protests. 'No, I understand. I don't have to like your risking your life to know that you have to do it. Even middle-aged Cobras are safer out there than younger men.'

'Thanks a raft,' he snorted. 'Thirty-nine is hardly middle-aged.'

She smiled. 'Why don't you quit protesting, then, and come to bed... and show me just how young you are.'

Afterward, they lay side by side in the dark, and Jonny's thoughts drifted back to Adirondack. There, the people he cared for had always drawn back when they feared they might never see him again. Chrys's response to the same situation was far more pleasant... though the underlying reality wasn't any easier to face. Still, he'd faced danger a thousand times before. Even Chrys should know by now that he was too lucky to get himself killed.

But his dreams that night were frightening things, centering around a giant creature that walked in haze, killing spine leopards and Cobras and disappearing without a trace.

Seated beside Governor-General Zhu at the conference room table, Committe Vanis D'arl could at first glance have passed for any other Aventine citizen. Middle-aged and reasonably fit, his dark hair cut in a conservative pattern, he gave no immediate sense of his awesome power. But his name labeled his home planet as Asgard, and to Jonny's eyes there were disturbing similarities between him and the failed rebel Cobra Simmon L'est. There was a quiet hardness about his face, the feeling that he would stop at nothing to get his own way. And underlying it all was an odd sense of urgency.

Zhu's introduction was a subtle underscoring to the latter, lasting only a fraction of the time the occasion should have dictated. 'Thank you, Governor-General Zhu,' D'arl said, rising to his feet as Zhu reseated himself. His voice was heavy with the subtle accents of Asgard. 'I would first of all like to congratulate you on behalf of the Central Committee on your truly outstanding accomplishment in the development of this new Dominion world. In barely fifteen years, you've achieved a solid foothold on Aventine and are even looking ahead to the future colonization of Caelian and Palatine. The natural resources for these endeavors are, of course, readily available, and it is obvious as well that you are not lacking in spirit. As the Committee has studied your progress, in fact, it has become apparent that the limiting factor in your expansion has been—and continues to be—the lack of Cobras to spearhead your efforts.'

Jonny felt his breath catch. D'arl's eyes, sweeping the table, shifted to him, and for an instant the two men locked gazes. 'Your reports,' D'arl continued coolly, 'have from almost the beginning contained requests for more Cobras, and the Committee has done its best to accommodate you. We've encouraged Cobra transfers to this colony, to the point where the Army has barely two companies left for general Dominion defense. Obviously, this drain cannot continue indefinitely; and the Committee has therefore come up with the following solution.'

Here it comes, Jonny thought, his stomach tensing. A steady stream of Cobras through the Corridor, maybe forever.

But even he was unprepared for D'arl's next words. 'Since it seems inefficient for the Dominion to equip and train Cobras only to send them here, we've decided to shift the entire operation to Aventine instead.'

Jonny's jaw dropped. No! he shouted... though the word never made it past his frozen tongue. But D'arl nevertheless noticed, and his eyes were steady on Jonny's face as he continued. 'Aboard my ship is all the necessary surgical and implant equipment, as well as specialists trained in its use. The procedure takes from two to six weeks, depending on how much discomfort you deem acceptable, and training by your own Cobras will probably take no more than four weeks more. This is far better than the seven to nine month response time for getting new Cobras from Asgard, and will in addition put the operation entirely under your control. I could continue... but I sense there is a comment waiting impatiently to be made, so I'd like to pause now for at least a brief discussion.'

Jonny was on his feet almost before the last word was out of D'arl's mouth. 'With all due respect and gratitude, Committe D'arl,' he said carefully, 'I feel that perpetuating the line of Cobras would be detrimental to the social and political development of Aventine.'

D'arl's eyebrows rose politely. 'How so, Syndic Moreau? It seems to me your government has adapted remarkably well to the presence of a disproportionate number of Cobras among its citizens. Your own position here would seem evidence of that.'

'If you're referring to the Challinor rebellion, yes, we've managed to avoid a repeat of that,' Jonny said. 'But the cost has been an unnatural distortion of basic Dominion political theory.'

'You speak, I presume, of the fact that at all levels of government Cobras have more than the single vote given to ordinary citizens.' D'arl's face was expressionless, his voice giving no hint as to his opinion of that practice. 'I believe a study of history will show, Syndic, that numerous adjustments of ideal theory have been made when circumstances required it.'

Across the table, Brom Stiggur of Maro District rose slowly to his feet. 'Perhaps then, Committe, a more concrete objection should be raised,' he said. 'You speak of perpetuating the Cobra presence on Aventine, and of putting the selection of Cobra candidates under our control. Under whose control, though, would it be? The governor-general's? A syndic majority's? Direct vote of the citizens? How do we guarantee, for obvious example, that this Cobra factory doesn't come under the influence of another Challinor?'

'You seem to have a pretty low opinion of the sort of man who'd volunteer to be a Cobra in the first place,' Tamis Dyon said stiffly from a few seats down. 'You'll notice that the psychological screening methods were perfectly successful with most of us—and as to Challinor, you might remember it was Syndic Moreau and his companions who defeated him, not official paranoia.' He shifted his eyes to D'arl. 'I, for one, would be delighted to have another dozen Cobras available to station in my outlying villages.'