Soli would be saved, and her father would guard her, as he had before. They would return to America, to the land of true solace, land of the circle code. He felt a tremendous nostalgia for it, for its courtesies and combats, even for the crazy crazies.
That was what meant most to Var: that Soli be safe and happy and home. That was what he had really tried, so unsuccessfully, to arrange for her before. A safe, happy home.
He would die thinking of her, loving her.
The challenge point came into sight. Metal bars closed off the road. As the truck stopped before them, other bars dropped behind, powered by a massive winch. 'Dismount!' the guard bellowed from his interior tower.
The four got down and lined up before the truck.
'That's the girl!' the guard cried. 'Ch'in's bride, the foreign piece!'
The Master turned-and suddenly a bow was in his hands, an arrow nocked, loosed, swishing up-and the tower guard collapsed silently, the missile through his windpipe.
Now was the time to pick up the rocks. Var stepped toward the back, girding himself for the flashing pain of contact-and the Master's huge hand fell on his arm. Var stumbled back, bewildered. Then he was shoved brusquely forward.
At the same time Sol whirled on his daughter, grasping her by the upper arms and lifting her bodily before him. She and Var met face to face, involuntarily, each held from behind. The Master's hand clapped down on Var's wrist, twisting off the bracelet. Sol reached out to take it and shove it on to Soli's wrist and squeeze it tight. Then Var and Soli were dropped, clutching at each other to keep from falling.
As they disengaged and righted themselves, they saw that Sol and the Nameless One had already grabbed hot stones. The two men leaped for either side of the grating, climbing rapidly with the deadly stones tucked into their waistbands. That was a talent the Master had not had before! They were at the top by the time the other guards discovered what had happened.
The Master hurled a stone toward a panel. 'Listen!' he bellowed. Var heard the fevered chatter of crazy-type click boxes, the screams of amazement and fear.
The Master began to crank up the forward grill. Var saw the counterweights descending, the road opening ahead.
'Drive!' the Master shouted down. Var obeyed unthinkingly. He scrambled into the driver's seat, Soli into the other. The motor was running; it had never been turned off, he realized only now. The Master had planned every detail.
As the gate cleared, he nudged out. The top of the cab scraped the bars; then they were free.
As he started down the north slope, Var heard the portcullis crash behind. The Master had let it, drop suddenly. Probably he had cut the counterweight-rope, so that the barrier could not be lifted again without tedious repairs. There would be no vehicle pursuit.
Safely away from the fortress, Var braked the truck. 'This isn't right,' he said, recovering equilibrium. 'I should be back there-'
'No,' she said. 'This is the way they meant it to be.'
'But Soli-'
'Vara,' she said.
Var stared at the gold band on her wrist, realizing what it meant. 'But I didn't-'
'Yes, you did,' she said, pretending to misunderstand. 'Back on New Crete, by Minos' cave. And you will again, tonight. With more art, I trust. And then we shall go back to America and tell them what we know: that we have the best social system in the world, and dare not destroy it through empire. Helicon must be rebuilt, the nomads must disband, the guns must be abolished. We shall go to the crazy demesnes and tell them, my husband.'
'Yes,' he said, seeing it clearly at last.
Then, remembering the valiant sacrifice of her two fathers, Vara fell against him and sobbed, the little girl again.
'They die together-friends,' Var said. And that was true, but it was scant comfort.
