The Adversary - 4 (33 page)

Most of the Bastards responded with arch grins, while Bleyn and the Tanu preserved a stately solemnity.

"The actual assault upon Monte Rosa involves, as most of you know, my own team of-uh-Bastards. Those expedition members remaining at the base camp will have other matters to occupy their attention, however. Lord Bleyn was advised by Elizabeth early this morning that a force of approximately two hundred ogres and dwarfs has set out from Famorel City and is marching north up the Ysaar Valley. We can only presume that they will follow the river eastward, cross over the Little St.

Bernard pass into the Proto-Augusta Valley, and thence seek to clobber us."

Exclamations of astonishment and dismay broke out. Lusk Collins, the young North American ATV wrangler, said, "I warned you to kill those Firvulag we got the slugs from."

"Sparing them was a calculated risk," Basil averred primly.

"Aside from humane considerations, may I remind you that we were instructed to avoid bloodshed. Technically, a state of armistice exists between the Tanu and Firvulag kingdoms."

"Remind the Famorel spooks, not us!" exclaimed Phronsie Gillis. "So we fight. What the hell! How long before the little hummers get here?"

"Elizabeth estimates six days," said Basil. "We are well armed, and there should be sufficient time to-uh-dig in and secure the position. Lord Ochal the Harper will coordinate the defensive measures and I will not discuss them further at this time. My province is the mountain, and I believe that it-not the Famorel Firvulag-will prove to be our most formidable opponent."

"Hear, hear," said Mr. Betsy.

Basil rummaged about in the pocket of his shirt and took out a small piece of paper, scrutinizing it before resuming. "The primary objective of this expedition is to secure the twentyseven rhocraft situated on the other side of Monte Rosa and deliver them to the King at Goriah. I have been instructed to be extremely judicious in the risk of our personnel-especially the pilots. But risk is-er-inherent in the conquest of a peak such as this one, especially since we have so few experienced climbers and only improvised equipment. Needless to say, I plan to take a primary role in the operation. Before coming to the Pliocene, I arranged to have my body modified specifically for-uh-high-altitude mountaineering ventures. And since it was a whim of mine that led to the aircraft being parked on Monte Rosa in the first place, it's only just that I participate in the most hazardous phases of the retrieval. Unfortunately, I am neither a pilot nor do I possess the technical expertise to-er-fire up the engine of a craft that has been in cold storage for two months. You must also understand that scaling a great mountain such as Rosa is of necessity a team effort. Support groups must set up a string of camps with equipment dumps so that the ultimate assault can leapfrog to the top. I will lead both the support and the assault teams."

"And love every miserable minute of it," drawled Mr. Betsy.

He looked more anachronistic than ever with a swansdown vest and pompom balaclava topping off his Elizabethan finery.

Basil continued. "At my request. Lord Bleyn's caravan brought from Goriah certain items such as power winches, rope and cable, vitredur hammers and ice-axes, medical supplies, and warm clothing. We have numbers of the excellent aubergefurnished backpacks with their decamole shelters and ladders, cooking gear and heaters, plus an adequate supply of concentrated food. Nirupam has been busy fashioning vitredur crampons, as well as pitons, ice screws, and other-er-hardware.

We have no oxygen equipment; but I believe we can do the job without it, since only the strongest of us will be climbing."

He turned to indicate the gleaming rampart of the mountain behind him. "Monte Rosa rises 9082 metres above sea level.

Fortunately, it will not be necessary for us to scale the summit-although I, personally, would sell my soul in order to be permitted the attempt."

The Bastards smiled knowingly at one another while the rest of the expedition regarded Basil with fascinated horror.

"What we will do is cross over the West Col, that saddleshaped region to the left of the peak. This lies at an approximate altitude of only 7800 metres. Elizabeth has studied the potential routes with her keen farsense and transmitted to me mental pictures, from which I have roughly plotted our climb. Moving out from Camp Bettaforca, we first cross that frozen expanse you see immediately above us, which I have named the Gresson Glacier. The ice is old, dirty and rotten; we shall have to be very cautious. Upon reaching the escarpment with its hanging glaciers, we must choose which icefall to ascend. Unfortunately, we face Hobson's choice. The three falls on our left and the easternmost fall are nearly vertical, as are the rocky walls. We are left with the so-called Gresson Icefall, which ascends at a relatively comfortable fifty degrees. I say relatively. The route up this huge tumbled mass is very likely the most perilous section of our climb. Once at the top, we begin to move westward.

Note the three massive ridges, like the tines of a monstrous fork, upon the mountain's southwestern flank. We must cross both the Middle Tine and the West Tine-and the pristine, snow-clad glaciers between them-in order to gain the West Col. A minimum of three advance camps will be set up along the route. I have selected a support team of nine persons to serve as-uh-Sherpas. The group includes Nirupam, who is a genuine member of that ethnos, Stan, Phillipe, Derek, Cisco, Chazz. Phronsie, Taffy, and Clifford. After they establish the camps, their work will be done and they can retire to welldeserved rest here at base."

"Just in time for the fight with the Firvulag," Stan Dziekonski sighed.

Basil continued imperturbably. "The eight-person assault group will be divided into two independent teams, travelling an hour apart. Since they will be burdened with heat-beam equipment and aircraft tools, they will make use of power winches and preset anchors, hauling their gear and themselves up the mountain wherever the terrain is compatible with such-er-unsporting manoeuvres. Upon attaining the West Col, the assault teams will proceed downhill to the aircraft site, which lies at 5924 metres on the North Face."

Irena O'Malley asked, "Why two assault teams?"

"Attrition," said the don.

There was dead silence in the audience.

"We may hope," he continued, "that at least one complete team will attain the objective. This would include an experienced mountaineer as leader, a pilot, a technician, and-"

"A Tanu," put in Bleyn the Champion. "By order of the King." His mental tone was entirely good-humoured. "Since Lord Aronn and I are both psychokinetics, we might even prove worth our keep."

Basil said, "The Number One assault team consists of myself, Dr. Hudspeth, Ookpik, and Lord Bleyn. Number Two includes Dr. Thongsa, who is pilot, mountaineer, and physician-"

"All rolled into one insufferable little scuzzbag," Phronsie muttered, glowering at the Tibetan, who pretended not to notice.

Basil swept on. "Nazir will serve as technician and Bengt as principal pilot-"

"And enforcer!" Phronsie appended. "Any little slanty-eyed folks start thinking again about running off with aircraft, ol'

Bengt's gonna whup their ass six ways from Shangri La."

"Lord Aronn will complete the second team," Basil said.

"Under ideal conditions, both teams will reach the aircraft and we will have three pilots, not just one, available to fly ships back here to Camp Bettaforca. Our ATV specialist, Mr. Collins, assures me that the fourplex vehicles can be disassembled into their original smaller modules for loading onto the aircraft. We hope to evacuate the entire camp and transport it in toto to the North Face. Even if-uh-Fata obstant and we have only a single ship available for shuttle work, it will still be able to airlift all personnel to safety in a single trip. Once the aircraft have power, they are capable of concentrating an enriched atmosphere. Sensitive individuals will reside on board while a sufficient number of ships are prepared for the first trip to Goriah. Subsequently, only the technical personnel and their Tanu supervisors will have to remain on the mountain to salvage the remaining machines ... The task we face is difficult. Some of us may lose our lives in the attempt to retrieve these aircraft.

But we know, nevertheless, that they may be crucial not only in the reopening of the time-gate but also in the defence of the Many-Coloured Land against powerful enemies. At the risk of belabouring a point, I will end by quoting a peculiarly apposite verse from Kipling: Something hidden. Go and find it.

Go and look behind the RangesSomething lost behind the Ranges.

Lost and waiting for you. Go!

If there are any questions I will now answer them."

"When do you plan for us Sherpas to start slogging?" Stan asked.

Basil said, "Tomorrow Nirupam, Ookpik, and I will lay out a route over the Gresson Glacier to the icefall. Support teams will begin carrying supplies to a dump at the icefall foot on Wednesday the twenty-fourth."

"And how long," enquired a worried-looking elite gold, "before the birdies get home to the roost in Goriah?"

"We've got nineteen days," said Veikko distinctly, "whether you realize it or not." And he told them about Kyllikki's estimated time of arrival with the X-zappers, and when the uproar over that had died down, he got around to mentioning the really bad news about Marc.

CHAPTER FOUR

Mary-Dedra dried her little son's inflamed skin, then dusted him with velvety spores by squeezing a dry puffball over his body.

He emerged for a moment from the terrible stupor and his mind smiled.

Like, he said.

The mother crooned to him through her golden torc: Soon you will feel better much better soon Brendan. She said aloud to Elizabeth: "Brother Anatoly suggested this substitute for baby powder. He said it was an old Siberian remedy. The fungus does seem to soothe the blisters better than salves."

The baby's eyes with their enlarged pupils fixed on Elizabeth.

The feeble glow of pleasure was snuffed out by apprehension.

Hurt me? Hurt again?

Elizabeth said: Yes Brendan. Hurt to make all hurt go away.

(And you must fear me, poor baby, not love the hurter, lest the mind-circuits become confused and you mistake the pain for joy.) Dedra kept up her own flow of telepathic reassurance as she wrapped the child in a light blanket. But when she handed him to Elizabeth he broke into hopeless wails, and Dedra cried out, overcome with guilt and reproach.

"We're very close," Elizabeth told the mother. "It could be tonight."

"But he doesn't seem to be any better ... You say the treatment is going well, but I haven't seen any improvement.

Except in his communication with me, telling me how it hurts."

"I know. I'm sorry, but it's inevitable. If we keep him below the pain threshold during the redaction, he won't be able to assist us. But he is better, Dedra. Believe me. Unfortunately, the modifications to the brain haven't yet manifested themselves in the rest of his body. When they do, improvement will be dramatic and abrupt. We're well into the multimodal thalamic nuclei-a primary integrative area. The job is nearly done."

"Will you work all night again?"

"Yes." Elizabeth held the sobbing baby against her shoulder, then triggered a massive release of endorphins so that Dedra would at least see him smile before she left ... in case this sight of him was the one that would live in memory. "Dedra, there's still a danger. As always."

The mother kissed her baby's head, feverish beneath gossamer-fine curls.

Love Brendan love.

Brendan loves Mother.

"I know how hard you've worked," Dedra said to Elizabeth.

"You and-that man. I'm grateful, whatever happens. Believe me."

Elizabeth placed the quiet child into his basket. "You can send Marc in now. Tell Brother Anatoly to wait outside with you tonight. We can call him if we need him." For the Blessing of Departure.

"Very well."

Dedra went out of the nursery and Elizabeth turned away from the basket, going to the window to take a few breaths of cool air. A harvest moon rode above the silvery undulations of the Montagne Noire. The aether was apparently tranquil all over Europe.

It seems, she thought, that the only dread and unease in the world are here on my sad crag, and I am very much afraid. Not of personal failure. Not even of facing Dedra's grief. I'm afraid of him, and the energies he will channel through me into the mind of this dying child. He has come here faithfully for the past ten days. He has been a superlative assistant, never making the slightest attempt to seize control or even question my direction. Even his socializing has been formal. And still I am threatened ...

"Good evening, Elizabeth."

She turned from the window and he was there, standing beside the child's basket, as usual wearing the crimson silk robe that Brother Anatoly had gladly relinquished.

"We'll attempt the finalization tonight," she said. "Since it will be hard on all three of us, we'll go at it in brief stages and give the child ample time for synaptic recuperation as we impose the new circuitry. Are you ready?"

"In a moment." He held out a closed fist toward her, turned it over and let the fingers open. In the palm of his hand was a small white star. "I went exploring today and brought you a souvenir."

In spite of herself, she reached out. It was a flower with a central cluster of golden buttons, surrounded by fleshy bracts clothed in fine white wool. She studied it in some perplexity.

He said, "Edelweiss. Shall we begin?"

Hold.

Quickly halt that surge!

Done.

YesOgood see the holonet react burn it HARD yes enough.

Now brainstem input.

(SleepBrendansleepbabysleepnow.) Disengage easy ... comeout Marc and rest.

They sat in their chairs on either side of the cot, heads bowed as they caught their breath. As always, he recovered first and went to the nearby tabouret for the carafe of fruit juice and glasses. After he had poured, he bent down and picked up something from the floor.

"You lost your flower," he said, smiling.