emissary back with you,' he said. 'To find out what's really going on.'
'Out of the question,' Wrey shook his head. 'In the first place we stand an even chance of getting hit by the Trofts before we ever reach Dominion space; and even if we get through, your emissary would just be trapped there. The Corridor hasn't a prayer of staying open long enough for him to return, and he'd just be dead weight on Asgard.'
'He could function as a consultant on conditions here,' Jonny persisted. 'You admitted yourself you don't really know us.'
'A consultant to what end? Are you expecting the Star Force to launch a backup assault through a hundred light-years of Troft territory?' Wrey glanced around the table at the others and stood up. 'Unless there are any more questions, I'm going back to the
'Doesn't care falx droppings for us, does he?' Kijika growled. His fingertips were pressed hard enough against the tabletop to show white under the nails.
'It's not going to matter much longer what he or anyone else in the Dominion thinks about us,' Dyon said grimly.
'Maybe we can postpone that a bit,' Jonny told him, handing Dyon the magcard. 'Would you give this to Theron Yutu and have him start locating these people? I have an important call to make.'
Governor-General Brom Stiggur was still en route to Capitalia, but he was within constant range of the Hap-2 communications satellite now and the picture was crystal clear. Not that it mattered, really—Stiggur's expression was exactly as Jonny had expected it to be. 'So that's it, then,' the other said when Jonny had summarized Wrey's doomsday message. 'The Trofts have finally gotten their courage up for round two. Damn them all to hell.' He snorted. 'Well, what's it going to take to get us ready for a siege?'
'More time than we've got,' Jonny said bluntly. 'To be brutally honest, Brom, I don't think we've got an icecube's chance on Vega if the Trofts decide they really want us. The new Cobras are our only defense and they know less than nothing about warfare.'
Stiggur grimaced. 'Should we be discussing this on a broadcast signal—?'
'We're going to keep all this a secret?'
'Not hardly,' Stiggur conceded. 'All right, Jonny—you didn't call just to give me advance notice of Armageddon. What do you want?'
Jonny swallowed hard. 'Permission to return with Wrey to Asgard and see what can be done to hold off the war.'
Stiggur's eyebrows lifted toward his hairline. 'Don't you think they've done everything possible in that direction already?'
'I don't know. How can we unless we talk directly to the Central Committee or Joint Command?'
Stiggur exhaled loudly. 'We need you here.'
'You know better than that. I can't fight worth a damn anymore, and there are a lot of First Cobras with better military and tactical knowledge.'
'What about your family, then?' Stiggur asked quietly. '
Jonny took a deep breath. 'Twenty-nine years ago I left all the family I had then to fight for people I didn't even know. How can I pass up even the slimmest chance now to save the lives of not only my wife and children, but virtually all the friends I've ever had?'
Stiggur gazed at him for a long minute, his expression giving away nothing of what was going on behind it. 'Much as I hate to admit it, I suppose you're right,' he finally said. 'I'll recommend to this Wrey character that he take you along. Uh... another half-hour to Capitalia, looks like. I should have his answer in an hour or so. In the meantime—' He hesitated. 'You'd better let Yutu handle things and go discuss this with Chrys.'
'Thanks, Brom. I'd already planned to do that.'
'I'll talk to you whenever I know something.' He nodded and the screen went blank.
Sighing, Jonny carefully flexed his rebellious elbows and punched for Yutu.
They all sat quietly in the softly lit living room as Jonny explained both the bad news and his proposed response to the crisis; and as he gazed at each member of his family in turn, he was struck as never before by the contrasting personalities their expressions revealed. Justin and Joshua, huddled together on the couch, showed roughly equal parts of fear and unquestioning trust, a mixture that was painfully reminiscent of his sister Gwen's childhood hero-worship. By contrast, Corwin's face belied his thirteen years as he clearly struggled to find an adult perspective into which he could submerge his own feelings of dread. Very like Jame, who'd always seemed older than his own biological age. And Chrys...
Chrys was as she always was, radiating a quiet strength and support toward him even while her eyes ached with the fear and pain a permanent separation would bring her. An acceptance of his plan based not on submission of any kind, but on the simple fact that her mind worked the same as his did and she could see just as clearly that it was something that had to be tried.
He finished his explanation, and for a few moments the silence was broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning. 'When'll you be leaving, Dad?' Corwin asked at last.
'If I go, it'll be today,' Jonny answered. 'They'll want to leave as soon as the ship's refueled and all.'
'Are you going to take Almo or someone with you?'
Jonny smiled briefly. Almo Pyre had been one of the first volunteers through D'arl's Cobra factory, and with his fierce loyalty toward Jonny and the entire Moreau family, he'd been a natural role model for Corwin to latch onto. 'I don't think we'll have any problems on the way back,' he told his son. 'Besides which, your father's not
She smiled sadly. 'If you don't understand me better than that by now—'
