At this point, if the Federation Complex is destroyed, so is The Healer. Dalt glanced up at the alarm terminal with its howlers and flashers ready to go. I just hope that thing goes off in time for us to get through the passage.
("If it goes off, it will probably do so because you set it off.")
What's that supposed to mean?
("The passage is psionically activated and directed by Kali, remember? If a psi force of that magnitude appears anywhere on Fed Central, I'll know about it— immediately.")
"Oh," Dalt muttered aloud. "Well, let's hope it's soon, then. This waiting is nerve-wracking."
("I'll be quite happy if they never show up.")
"We've already been through that!"
"Pardon me, sir," said a trooper passing within earshot.
"What is it?" Dalt asked.
The trooper looked flustered. "I thought you spoke to me."
"Huh? Oh, no." Dalt smiled weakly. "Just thinking out loud."
"Yessir." He nodded and walked on by with a quick backward glance.
("He thinks you may be crazy,") Pard needled. ("So do I, but for entirely different reasons.")
Quiet and let me sleep.
Their vigil was not a long one. Before dawn on the second day, Dalt suddenly found himself wide awake, his sympathetic nervous system vibrating with alarm.
("Hit the button,") Pard said reluctantly. ("They're here.")
Where?
("About two kilometers away. I'll lead everyone there.")
Fastening the Ibizan feeder belt to his waist as he ran, Dalt activated the alarm and the twenty marksmen were blared and strobed to wakefulness.
The sergeant in charge of the detail trotted up to Dalt. "Where we going?"
Dalt withheld a shrug and said, "Just follow me."
With the activation of the alarm, the hangar roof irised open and the six armed and pressurized flitters were airborne in less than a minute. Pard guided Dalt high above the Federation Complex.
("Now drop and bank off to the left of that building that looks like an inverted pyramid.")
"That's where they are?" Dalt exclaimed.
("Yes. Right in the heart of the complex.")
"From tens of thousands of light-years away ... how can they be so accurate?"
("Not 'they'—she. Kali directs the passage.")
With their running lights out, the flitters sank between two smooth-walled buildings until they hovered only a few meters above the pavement.
("It's at the far end of the alley.")
Dalt shook his heading in grudging respect. "Pinpoint accuracy."
("And strategically brilliant. There's almost no room to maneuver against them here. I warned you she was a formidable opponent—still want to go through with this?")
Dalt wished he could frame a recklessly courageous reply but none was forthcoming. Instead, he activated the search beams on the front of the flitter and illuminated a chilling sight: The invaders were pouring from their hole in space like angry insects from a hive.
As the flitters came under immediate fire, Dalt gunned his craft to full throttle and it leaped ahead on a collision course with the oncoming horde. Invaders were knocked over or butted aside as he rammed into them. He noted that the fitters behind him were returning fire as they ran—
—and then all was gray, toneless, flat and silent as they passed through the vortex and into subspace. Dalt felt a brief rush of vertigo as he lost his horizon in the featureless void but managed to hold a steady course past surprised and wildly gesticulating invaders on their way to Fed Central.
("Keep her steady for just a little longer and we'll be there.")
Pard had no sooner given this encouragement than the craft burst into sunlight, bowling over more invaders in the process. Without a backward glance, Dalt kept the throttle at full and pulled for altitude toward the sea.
("See the island?") "Straight ahead." ("Right. Keep going.")
"I just hope the sergeant remembered to tell Petrical where the breakthrough was before he went through."
("Don't worry about that. The sergeant's a seasoned trooper. We've got bigger problems ahead.")
The following flitters were through now and were busily engaged in strafing the Kalian encampments on the shore. Their mission was to cripple the attack on Fed Central and prevent any countermove against Dalt as he headed for the island.
("Veer toward the south side,") Pard told him.
"Which way is south?"
("Left.")
They were near enough now to make out gross details of the temple. "Where do I land?"
("You don't. At least not yet See that large opening there? Fly right into it") "Doesn't look very big."
("If you could thread that vortex, you can thread that corridor.")
The guardians of the fortress-temple were waiting for them at the entrance with arrows nocked, bows drawn, and spears at the ready.
("Slow up and hit them with the blasters,") Pard directed.
That seemed too brutal to Dalt. "I'll just ride right through them. They're only armed with sharpened sticks."