“So, so,” mused Theor. “In that case, if you are stealing the army, the first thing you do is attack Authority, hoping you can wipe out all twenty-one of the Members before anyone can possibly use the Final Command.”
“Oh God,” said Sam with horrified comprehension. “Are you saying Enforcement may be loose, and we can’t stop it? Nobody can?”
“Like the Blight on Thyker,” said Theor in a dull voice.
They rose to the edge of the escarpment and looked over it, hills and gentle valleys, tufted forests, all in shades of darkest gray. Away to their left lay Bubble Lake, a rising cloud of prismed color. Closer was the New Forest, looming and shadowed. Canyons and rivers, dunes and caverns, the marvelous landscapes of Hobbs Land spread beneath them. To the west was a flicker, a scarlet shimmer in the darkness.
“There,” said Theor. “Something came through there.”
Sam dropped the flier to the tops of the trees and wove down the valleys toward the sparkle.
Above, to their left, another sparkle, brighter, falling, leaving a trail of fire.
“They’re sending through scouts in an array,” said Emun. “Still trying for the range. They haven’t figured out the surface yet.”
“Array?”
“A cube, a lattice of scouts. When they arrive, they pulse back through the still-open Door. They pulse if they destruct, from coming out in rock, or if they fall, from coming out in air, or if they have no weight, from coming out in space. Some of them will end up on or near a surface, and those pulses accumulate into a description of the surface. Then you send in a beacon array to mark the surface, and then the rest of the soldiers. The beacon array moves with the planet surface. It feeds back, keeping the Door open. One way, of course.”
“That one we just saw?”
“Became a meteor.” Emun pointed upward. “There’s another. If we were on the surface, you could feel the shock waves from the ones detonating underground. This is a very broad, rather scattered array. Whoever’s doing it has never done it before.”
Theor nodded in agreement. “Whoever’s doing it knows the theory but not the practice. Wasteful as all Hell, of course, which is why they use cheap scouts to start with. I don’t suppose they amount to much except a fire-arm and a back-pulse.”
“Do you need to see anything more to know this is happening for sure?” Sam asked in a tight voice, his mind far from this place. This was happening, here, but the reasons were far away, in time, in space. “Have you seen enough to warn the settlements?”
“They’ve straddled the escarpment,” said Emun. “Look below.” They looked down to see sparkles in the air and on the ground of the plains. “They’ve come out along the edge of the escarpment and some of them are caught there, in crevices of the rock. The first mistake they’ll make is to rotate ninety degrees and try to bring their scouts out along the wall. That’s the only surface they’re sure of.”
The three watched in wonder as the sparkles grew thick upon the wall, falling in long streaks, like burning wax from a candle, then stopped. There was a long time of darkness. Then the lights began again, this time all of them on the plain below.
“They’ve figured it out,” said Emun.
“Have you seen enough?” Sam asked again.
“Enough to go warn the settlements,” said Theor Close. “We can start evacuation through the Combat Door.”
“And lose twenty percent of our people?” Sam cried, suddenly concentrated once more upon the immediacy of the problem. “No! Get them up onto the escarpment, up at the memorial park. Have them take food enough for a long stay. Medical supplies, whatever they think they’ll need. Get off the plain.” He thought, letting his mind seek the answers, letting the words come. “If the soldiers are coming out down there, the prophets will be behind them.” He knew this was true. He could see it. Oh, yes. “Sending an army here is sheer vindictiveness. The old man is getting even with Saturday for singing there in Ahabar. And with me, just for being with her, or for being Maire’s son, or because despite everything he feels guilt and must crush it with more violence yet against any who make him uncomfortable! He will come, to see the end of us, and the others will not stay behind. Even if they did not want to be here, he would bring them along.”
“It’ll take them time to reach the settlements, won’t it, Emun?” asked Theor.
“Not as long as you might think.”
Sam thought, concentrating every cell upon the problem. “The important thing is to get our people out of the way, get our fliers out of range. The prophets will come through behind the army. We must prepare to attack them from behind and capture some of them.”
“I don’t understand?” said Theor in a puzzled voice.
“Some of them will know the passwords. The ones we’ll need to change the programming! If they know them, then our God can find them out. Maybe. Meantime, we’re alerting everyone possible; maybe someone can use that Final Command.”
“We can get the closer settlements moved first, without baggage, and the further ones moved next.”
“Then I’m going to drop off down there, in front of their lines somewhere, and have you fly this thing back.”
“Sam!” protested Theor Close. “Why?”
Emun quavered, “You wouldn’t have a chance, Sam Girat.”
“It’s something I need to do,” he said, turning the flier in a sharp arc and speeding away toward the southeast. “Something only I can do. There is an unfinished matter here, one which has weighed upon me. It needs to be done with. Whatever happens.”
“At least, let us take time to rig you up with a transmitter,” Theor Close begged. “We need to know what happens to you, Sam.”
Sam shook his head, almost amused. “Haven’t you figured it out
