Nere doubt me, for I 'll play my part."

the general response of her body. Antona shrugged, tapping out a code on the terminal of the tank. Oh, anytime now. Pulse and pressure readouts strong. Head clear? Yes. Antona pressed a stud and the chin support and shoulder harness released Killashandra. She caught the side of the tank, and Antona handed her a long robe. Do I need to tell you to eat? Killashandra grinned wryly. No. My stomach knows Im awake and its rumbling. Youve lost nearly two kilos, you know. Can you remember when you last ate? Antonas voice and eyes were sharp with annoyance. No use asking, is it? Not the least bit. Killashandra replied blithely as she climbed out of the tank, the radiant fluid sheeting off her body, leaving her skin smooth and soft. She pulled the robe on. Antona held up a hand to balance her down the five steps. How much crystal resonance do you experience now? Antona poised her fingers above the tanks small terminal. Killashandra listened attentively to the noise between her ears. Only a faint trace! Her breath escaped her lips in a sigh of relief. Lanzecki said that you cut enough to go off-world. Killashandra frowned. He said something else, too. But I forget what. Something important, though, Killashandra knew. Hell probably tell you again in good time. Get up to your quarters and get some food into you. Antona gave Killashandras shoulder an admonitory squeeze before she turned away to check on the other patients. As Killashandra made her way up from the Infirmary level, deep in the bowels of the Guild Complex, she puzzled over the memory lapse. She had been reassured that most singers had several decades of unimpaired recall before memory deteriorated, but no fast rule determined the onset. She had been lucky enough to have a Milekey Transition ending in full adaptation to Ballybrans spore, an adaptation that was necessary for those inhabiting the planet Ballybran. That kind of Transition held many benefits, not the least of which was avoiding the rigors of Transition Fever, and was purported to include a longer span of unimpaired memory. In this one instance, she could, perhaps, legitimately blame fatigue. As the lift door opened on the deserted lobby of the main singer level, not a singer was in sight. The storm had blown itself out. She paused to glance through to the dining area and saw only one lone diner. Pulling the robe more tightly about her, she hurried down the corridor to the blue quadrant and her using vivitar 285 on digital camera apartment. The first thing she did was call up her credit balance, and felt the knot that had been tightening in her belly dissolve as the figures 12,790 rippled onto the screen. She regarded the total for a long moment, then tapped out the all-important query: how far away from Ballybran would that sum take her? The names of four systems were displayed. Her stomach rumbled. She shifted irritably in her chair and asked for details of the amenities in each system. The replies were not exciting. In each system the Terran-type planets were purely industrial or agricultural, having, at best, only conservative leisure facilities. From comments she had overheard, Killashandra gathered that because of their proximity the locals had seen quite enough of their neighbors from Ballybran and tended to be either credit crunchers or rude to the point of dueling offense. The only thing thats good about any of them. Killashandra said with disgust, is that I havent been there yet. Killashandra had thought to take her long-overdue holiday on Maxim, the pleasure planet in the Barderi system. From all shed heard, it would be very easy to forget crystal resonance in the sophisticated amusement parks and houses of hedonistic Maxim. But she hadnt yet the credit to indulge that whimsy. Exasperated, she rubbed her palms together, noticing that the thick calluses from cutter vibrations had been softened by her long immersion. The numerous small nicks and cuts that were a singers occupational hazard had healed to thin white scars. Well, that function of her symbiont worked efficiently. And the white crystal would assure her some sort of an off-planet holiday. White crystal! Enthor has said something about a fractured manual! Optherian sense organs used white Ballybran crystals and she had cut forty-four from the half centimeter on up in half-centimeter gradients. Lanzecki had asked her a question. Would Optheria be far enough? The words, remembered in his deep voice, sprang to mind. She grinned with tremendous relief at retrieving that question and turned to the viewscreen to punch up his code. Killa? Lanzeckis hands were poised over his own terminal, surprise manifested by his raised eyebrows. You havent used the catering unit. He frowned. Oh, programmed to monitor that, did you? she replied with a genuine smile at that reminder of their

Have squandered my whole summer while 'twas May,

"You fix him up. I'll find a place." Mallory wasn't as confident as he felt: still, on the scree-strewn, volcanic slopes of these hills behind, there ought to be a fair chance of finding a rock shelter, if not a cave. Or there would have been in daylight: as it was they would just have to trust to luck to stumble on one. . . . He saw that Casey Brown, grey-faced with exhaustion and illnessthe after-effects of carbon monoxide poisoning are slow to disappearhad risen unsteadily to his feet and was making for a gap between the rocks. "Where are you going, Chief?" "Back for the rest of the stuff, sir." "Are you sure you can manage?" Mallory peered at him closely. "You don't look any too fit to me." "I don't feel it either," Brown said frankly. He looked at Mallory. "But with all respects, sir, I don't think you've seen yourself recently." "You have a point," Mallory acknowledged. "All right then, come on. I'll go with you." For the next ten minutes there was silence in the tiny clearing, a silence broken only by the murmurs of Miller and Andrea working over the shattered leg, and the moans of the injured man as he twisted and struggled feebly in his dark abyss of pain: then gradually the morphine took effect and the struggling lessened and died away altogether, and Miller was able to work rapidly, without fear of interruption. Andrea had an oilskin outstretched above them. It served a double purposeit curtained off the sleet that swept rOund them from time to time and blanketed the pin-point light of the rubber torch he held in his free hand. And then the leg was set and bandaged and as heavily splinted as possible and Miller was on his feet, straightening his aching back. "Thank Gawd that's done," he said, wearily. He gastured at Stevens. "I feel just the way that kid looks." Suddenly he stiffened, stretched out a warning arm. "I can hear something, Andrea," he whispered. Andrea laughed. "It's only Brown coming back, my friend. He's been coming this way for over a minute now." "How do you know it's Brown?" Miller challenged. He felt vaguely annoyed with himself and unobtrusively shoved his ready automatic back into his pocket. "Brown is a good man among rocks," Andrea said gently; "but he is tired. But Captain Mallory. . ." He shrugged. "People call me 'the big cat,' I know, but among the mountains and rocks the captain is more than a cat. He is a ghost, and that was how men fujifilm finepic j10 digital camera called him in Crete. You will know he is here when he touches you on the shoulder." Miller shivered in a sudden icy gust of sleet. "I wish you people wouldn't creep around so much," he complained. He looked up as Brown came round the corner of a boulder, slow with the shambling, stumbling gait of an exhausted man. "Hi, there, Casey. How are things goin'?" "Not too bad." Brown murmured his thanks as Andrea took the box of explosives off his shoulder and lowered it easily to the ground. "This is the last of the gear. Captain sent me back with it. We heard voices some way along the cliff. He's staying behindto see what they say when they find Stevens gone." Wearily he sat down on top of the box. "Maybe he'll get some idea of what they're going to do next, if anything." "Seems to me he could have left you there and carried that damned box back himself," Miller growled. Disappointment in Mallory made him more outspoken than he'd meant to be. "He's much better off than you are right now, and I think it's a bit bloody much. . ." He broke off and gasped in pain as Andrea's fingers caught his arm like giant steel pincers. "It is not fair to talk like that, my friend," Andrea said reproachfully. "You forget, perhaps, that Brown here cannot talk or understand a word of German?" Miller rubbed his bruised arm tenderly, shaking his head in slow self-anger and condemnation. "Me and my big mouth," he said ruefully. "Always talkin' outa turn Miller, they call me. Your pardon, one and all.. . . And what is next on the agenda, gentlemen?" "Captain says we're to go straight on into the rocks and up the right shoulder of this bill here." Brown jerked a thumb in the direction of the vague mass, dark and strangely foreboding, that towered above and beyond them. "He'll catch us up within fifteen minutes or so." He grinned tiredly at Miller. "And we're to leave this box and a rucksack for him to carry." "Spare me," Miller pleaded. "I feel only six inches tall as it is." He looked down at Stevens lying quietly under the darkly gleaming wetness of the oilskins, then up at Andrea. "I'm afraid, Andrea" "Of course, of course!" Andrea stooped quickly, wrapped the oilskins round the unconscious boy and rose to his feet, as effortlessly as if the oilskins had been empty. "I'll lead the way," Miller volunteered. "Mebbe I can pick an easy path for you and young Stevens." He swung generator and

Till envy, with malignant grasp,

sufficiently high caliber to gain entrance into the Federal Music Conservatory on Optheria where she hoped shed be allowed to play on an Optherian organ. An hour is all I need, she told Corish, blinking in her simulation of advancing inebriation, for the purposes of my dissertation. From what I hear about their precious organ, youd be lucky to get within spitting distance. Even half an hour. I hear that only Federal licensed musicians are allowed in the organ loft. Well, theyll have to make an exception in my case because I have a special letter from Fuertes President hes a friend of my familys. And a sealed note from Stellar Performer Dalkay Mogorog She paused deferentially at the mention of that august personality, who was evidently unknown to Corish, and Im sure theyll concede. Even fifteen minutes? she asked as Corish continued to shake his head. Well, theyll just have to! I havent come all this way to be refused. Im a serious student of keyboard instruments. I won a scholarship to the Federated Sentient Planets Conservatory on Terra. Ive been permitted to play on a Moartian clavier, a Handelian spinet, Purcells harpsichord, a Bach organ, and a Beethoven pianaforte and She hiccuped to mask the fact that she was running out of prestigious composers and instruments. So? Which beer do you prefer now? Huh? Corish solicitously conducted her to her cabin and arranged her on her bunk. As he drew a light blanket over her, she felt the static leap from her shoulder to his hands. He hesitated briefly, then quietly left. As Killashandra gave him time to leave her passage-way, she reviewed her performance and decided that she hadnt dropped from character, even if he had. It was rather nice of him, too, not to have taken advantage of her. When she felt secure, she slipped from her cabin and down to the gymnasium level. At that hour, it was empty and she enjoyed an hours luxuriating in the radiant fluid. They met the next morning at the breakfast hour, Corish solicitously inquiring after her health. Did I fall asleep on you? she asked with wide-eyed dismay. Not at all. I just saw to it that you were safely in your own cabin before you did. Critically, she held her hands out in front of her. Wel1, at least, theyre steady enough to practice. Youre going to vivitar mini digital camera driver practice? I practice every day. May I listen Well it can be quite boring I have to spend at least an hour on the preliminary finger exercises and scales before I can do any interesting music If Im bored, Ill leave. As she led the way to the practice rooms, she wondered if she had slipped up in her characterization. Why else should he be curious enough to want to listen to her practice? Killashandra was rather chuffed to discover that the old drills came easily to her fingers as she addressed the keyboard with every semblance of true authority. Corish departed after fifteen minutes but she left nothing to chance and played on, making remarkably few errors for someone who had not played in three years. As she had established her credentials with him, he continued to project the image of an amiable young man on a journey to protect family interests. He sought her out at mealtimes, helped her evade the organizers of team sports, directed her investigations of the caterers potential with the amused tolerance of the mature traveler, and accompanied her to shipboard activities. On one or two occasions, she had the urge to shock him with her true identity just to see how he might react, but she repressed that whimsy. Then, after a particularly bibulous evening, when she had taken an extra long radiant bath, she encountered him in the gymnasium. He was sweating profusely, working out against a hefty weight on the apparatus with apparent ease. Stripped as he was for the exercise, Killashandra could appreciate that Corishs lean frame was suspiciously well muscled and fine tuned for his public image. I didnt know you were a gymnast! Its only smart to keep fit, Killashandra Ree. He whipped a towel about his shoulders and mopped his face. Whereve you been? Killashandra managed a blush of embarrassment, dropping her eyes and affecting mortification. I tried that radiant stuff. In the tank, and she pointed vaguely in the right direction. That blonde girl from Kachachurian was saying that it was good for hang-overs! She kicked at the apparatus base with her toe, eyes still downcast. Well,

Bronze partridge, speckled quail, and canvasback.

message in at the Piper Facility? Corish had considerably piqued her curiosity and she was somewhat motivated by a desire to show him that two could play the exploitation gambit. Someone tapped on her apartment door and, when Mirbethan entered on her permission, Killashandra caught the shade of uncertainty in the Optherians manner. Since youre not accompanied by any priss-mouthed ancients, you are welcome. And if that excuse for a meal is a state dinner here, no wonder youre a lean bunch. Mirbethan flushed. Since Elder Pentrom graciously accepted our invitation, we are obliged to cater to his dietary preferences. Didnt Elder Ampris mention this to you? He failed to put me in the know. However. all this, and Killashandra waved expansively at the beverage tables load, makes up for that deficiency, though solid food would assist my investigations There was no time to show you the catering facility. Mirbethan glided to one of the discreet wall cabinets. Its doors opened on a catering unit. Alcoholic beverages are not included. Students have a distressing aptitude for breaking restricted codes. Killashandra decided that she merely thought she detected a note of tolerant humor in Mirbethans voice. That is why we have supplied you with a sampling of the available intoxicants. In spite of Elder Pentrom. Mirbethan cast her eyes downward. Tell me, Mirbethan, would you happen to know if Bascum the brewmaster originated from the planet Yarra? Bascum? Mirbethan looked up, startled, and confused. When Killashandra waved the long-emptied bottle at her, she blushed. Oh, that Bascum. Now she glided to a second ornate cabinet which opened into a full size terminal, and a panel in the wall slid aside to reveal a large screen. She typed an entry as Killashandra made a private wager. Why, how under the suns did you know? The best brewmasters in the galaxy hail from that planet. I havent sampled everything yet, Killashandra went on, but I shall be very well suited indeed if youll undertake to keep me supplied with Bascums brew. As you require, Guildmember. But for now, the concert is about to start in the Red Hall. Only the single manual organ, but the performer was last years prize winner. Killashandra was tempted, but she was a shade hungrier and drier than she liked to be. The Elders are present? When Mirbethan solemnly nodded, Killashandra sighed deeply. Convey my apologies on the grounds of travel fatigue samsung s630 6 megapixel digital camera and the stress of metabolic readjustment after the assault and the wound. Killashandra ran the silk up her arm, exposing her shoulder where only a thin red line gave evidence of an injury. Mirbethans eyes widened significantly and then, with a subtle shift, she inclined a bow to Killashandra. Your apologies will be conveyed. Call code MBT 14 if you require any further assistance from myself, Thyrol. Pirinio, or Polabod. Killashandra wished her a pleasant evening and Mirbethan withdrew. As soon as the door had closed on the woman, Killashandra discarded her languor and made for the catering unit. Once again, Optherian peculiarities inhibited her, for when she called up a menu, there was no scrolling of delectable, mouthwatering selections but a set dinner, with only three choices for the main course. She opted for all three, and immediately the catering unit queried her. She repeated her request and, when the unit wanted to know how many were dining, she tapped in three. At which point the unit informed her that the apartment was recorded as having a single occupant. She replied that she had guests. Their names and codes were required. She responded with the names of Elders Pentrom and Ampris, codes unknown. The food was promptly dispensed, two of the meager servings that she had observed in the dining hall. Fortunately the third one was substantial enough to abort the kick that she had been about to bestow on the catering unit. Once she had solid food in her stomach, she continued her liquor sampling. While not in the least inebriated, thanks to her Ballybran-altered digestion, Killashandra was very merry and sang lustily as she ventured into the hygiene rooms and splashed in the scented water of the bath. She continued to sing, her fancy latching onto a riotous ballad generally rendered by a tenor, as she made her way to the bedroom. A lambent radiance augmented the soft lighting and, curious, she went to the window, observing three of Optherias four small moons, one near enough for the craters and vast sterile plains to be clearly visible. Entranced, Killashandra broke off the ballad and began the haunting love duet from Baleefs exotic opera, Voyagers, which seemed particularly appropriate to the setting. When a tenor voice joined her on cue, she faltered a moment. Then, despite her astonishment at spontaneity in such a rigidly controlled environment, she continued. Voyagers had been her last opera as a student on

And quickly it shall be seen."

are, Antona said all too sweetly, her eyes sparkling. Dont fret, Antona. Its not a subject that I would discuss with anyone else. Particularly Lanzecki. Im not likely to get that sort of an opportunity, she said, wondering if Antona knew or suspected their relationship. Or if her advice to remember loves and emotions had merely been a general warning to include all experience. Would Killashandra want to remember, decades from now, that she and Lanzecki had briefly been lovers? Advise me, Antona, on which of our nearer spatial neighbors I should plan a brief vacation? Antona grimaced. You might just as well pick the name at random for all the difference there is among them. Their only advantage is that they are far enough away from Ballybran to give your nerves the rest they need. Just then a cheerful voice hailed them. Killa! Antona! Am I glad to see someone else alive! Rimbol exclaimed, hobbling out of the shadows. He grinned as he saw the pitcher of beer. May I join you? By all means, Antona said graciously. What happened to you? Killashandra asked. Rimbols cheek and forehead were liberally decorated by newly healed scars. Mine was the sled that did a nose dive over the baffle. It did? You didnt know it was me? Rimbols mouth twisted in mock chagrin. The way Malaine carried on youdve thought Id placed half the incoming singers in jeopardy by that flip. Did you rearrange the sled as creatively as your face? Rimbol shook his head ruefully. It broke its nose, mine was only bloody. At that itll take longer to fix the sled than for my leg to heal. Say, Killa, have you heard about the Optherian contract? For the fractured manual? That could pay for a lot of repairs. Oh, I dont want it, and he flicked his hand in dismissal. Why ever not? Rimbol took a long pull of his beer. Well, Ive got a claim that was cutting real well right now. Optherias a long way away from here and Ive been warned that I could lose the guiding resonance being gone so long. And because you remembered that I havent cut anything worth packing No. Rimbol held up a hand, casio ex-z75pk 7.2-megapixel digital camera review protesting Killashandras accusation. I mean, yes, I knew youve been unlucky lately Who do you think cut the white crystal to replace the fractured Optherian manual? You did! Rimbols face brightened with relief. Then you dont need to go either. He raised his beaker in a cheerful toast. Where dyou plan to go off-world? I hadnt exactly made up my mind Killashandra saw that Antona was busy serving up the last of her casserole. Why dont you try Maxim in the Barderi system. Rimbol leaned eagerly across the table to her. Ive heard its something sensational. Ill get there sometime but Id sure like to hear your opinion of it. I dont half believe the reports. Id trust you. Thats something to remember, Killashandra murmured, glancing sideways at Antona. Then, taking note of Rimbols querying look, she asked smoothly, Whatve you been cutting lately? Greens, Rimbol replied with considerable satisfaction. He held up crossed fingers. Now, if only the storm damage is minimal, and it could be because the veins in a protected spot, I might even catch up with you on Maxim. You see and he proceeded to elaborate on his prospects. As Rimbol rattled on in his amusing fashion, Killashandra wondered if crystal would dull the Scartines infectious good-nature along with his memory. Would Antona give him the same urgent advice? Surely each of the newest crystal singers had some unique quality to be cherished and sustained throughout a lifetime. Antonas outburst had been sparked by a long frustration. To how many singers over her decades in the Guild had she tendered the same advice and found it ignored? So I came in with forty greens, Rimbol was saying with an air of achievement. Thats damned good cutting! Killashandra replied with suitable fervor. You have no trouble releasing crystal? Antona asked. Well, I did the first time out, Rimbol admitted candidly, but I remembered what youd said, Killa, about packing as soon as you cut. Ill never forget the sight of you locked in crystal thrall, right here in a noisy crowded hall. A kindly and timely word of wisdom! Oh, youd have caught on soon enough, Killashandra said, feeling a trifle embarrassed by his gratitude. Some never do, you know, Antona remarked. What happens? Do they stand in statuesque paralysis until night comes? Or a

That split his head in twain.

Mallory replied loftily. "In ballast, for Samoa. Under orders," he said significantly. "Whose orders?" the soldier demanded. Shrewdly Mallory judged the confidence as superficial only. The guard was impressed in spite of himself. "Herr Commandant in Vathy. General Graebel," Mallory said softly. "You will have heard of the Herr General before, yes?" He was on safe ground here, Mallory knew. The reputation of Graebel, both as a paratroop commander and an iron disciplinarian, had spread far beyond these islands. Even in the half-light Mallory could have sworn that the guard's complexion turned paler. But he was dogged enough. "You have papers? Letters of authority?" Mallory sighed wearily, looked over his shoulder. "Andrea!" he bawled. "What do you want?" Andrea's great bulk loomed through the hatchway. He had heard every word that passed, had taken his cue from Mallory: a newlyopened wine bottle was almost engulfed in one vast hand and he was scowling hugely. "Can't you see I'm busy?" he asked surlily. He stopped short at the sight of the German and scowled again, irritably. "And what does this haifling want?" "Our passes and letters of authority from Herr General. They're down below." Andrea disappeared, grumbling deep in his throat. A rope was thrown ashore, the stern pulled in against the sluggish current and the papers passed over. The papersa set different from those to be used if emergency arose in Navaroneproved to be satisfactory, eminently so. Mallory would have been surprised had they been anything else. The preparation of these, even down to the photostatic facsimile of General Graebel's signature, was all in the day's work for Jensen's bureau in Cairo. The soldier folded the papers, handed them back with a muttered word of thanks. He was only a kid, Mallory could see nowif he was more than nineteen, his looks belied him. A pleasant, open-faced kidof a different stamp altogether from the young fanatics of the S.S. Panzer Divisionand far too thin. Mallory's chief reaction was one of relief: he would have hated to have to kill a boy like this. But he had to find out all he could. He signalled to Stevens to hand him up the almost empty crate of Moselle. Jensen, he mused, had been very thorough indeed: the man had literally thought of everything. . . . Mallory gestured lazily in the direction real digital life pc web camera of the old watch-tower. "How many of you are up there?" he asked. The boy was instantly suspicious. His face had tightened up, stified in hostile surmise. "Why do you want to know?" he asked stiffly. Mallory groaned, lifted his hands in despair, turned sadly to Andrea. "You see what it is to be one of them?" he asked in mournful complaint. "Trust nobody. Think everyone is as twisted as. . . ." He broke off hurriedly, turned to the soldier again. "It's just that we don't want to have the same trouble every time we come in here," he explained. "We'll be back in Samos in a couple of days, and we've still another case of Moselle to work through. General Graebel keeps hisahspecial envoys well supplied. . . . It must be thirsty work up there in the sun. Come on, now, a bottle each. How many bottles?" The reassuring mention that they would be back again, the equally reassuring mention of Graebel's name, plus, probably, the attraction of the offer and his comrades' reaction if he told them he had refused it, tipped the balance, overcame scruples and suspicions. "There are only three of us," he said grudgingly. "Three it is," Mallory said cheerfully. "We'll bring you some Hock next time we return." He tilted his own bottle. "Prosit!" he said, an islander proud of airing his German, and then, more proudly still, "Auf Wiedersehen!" The boy murmured something in return. He stood hesitating for a moment, slightly shame-faced, then wheeled abruptly, walked off slowly along the river bank, clutching his bottles of Moselle. "So!" Mallory said thoughtfully. "There are only three of them. That should make things easier" "Well done, sir!" It was Stevens who interrupted, his voice warm, his face alive with admiration. "Jolly good show!" "Jolly good show!" Miller mimicked. He heaved his lanky length over the coaming of the engine hatchway. "'Good' be damned! I couldn't understand a gawddamned word, but for my money that rates an Oscar. That was terrific, boss!" "Thank you, one and all," Mallory murmured. "But I'm afraid the congratulations are a bit premature." The sudden chill in his voice struck at them, so that their eyes aligned along his pointing finger even before he went on. "Take a look," he said quietly. The young soldier had halted

And carried him to earthen lake.

his gun-hand, tore the covers off the boy. A shuddering tremor shook the whole body, his head rolied from side to side as he moaned in unconscious agony. The officer bent quickly over him, the hard, clean lines of the face, the fair hair beneath the hood high-lit in the beam of his own torch. A quick look at Stevens's pain-twisted, emaciated features, a glance at the shattered leg, a brief, distasteful wrinkling of the nose as he caught the foul stench of the gangrene, and he had hunched back on his heels, gently replacing the covers over the sick boy. "You speak the truth," he said softly. "We are not barbarians. I have no quarrel with a dying man. Leave him there." He rose to his feet, walked slowly backwards. "The rest of you outside." The snow had stopped altogether, Mallory saw, and stars were beginning to twinkle in the clearing sky. The wind, too, had fallen away and was perceptibly warmer. Most of the snow would be gone by midday, Mallory guessed. Carelessly, incuriously, he looked around him. There was no sign of Casey Brown. Inevitably Mallory's hopes began to rise. Petty Officer Brown's recommendation for this operation had come from the very top. Two rows of ribbons to which he was entitled but never wore bespoke his gallantry, he had a formidable reputation as a guerrilla fighterand he had had an automatic rifle in his hand. If he were somewhere out there. . . . Almost as 'if he had divined his hopes, the German smashed them at a word. "You wonder where your sentry is, perhaps?" he asked mockingly. "Never fear, Englishman, he is not far from here, asleep at his post. Very sound asleep, I'm afraid." "You've killed him?" Mallory's hands clenched until his palms ached. The other shrugged his shoulder in vast indifference. "I really couldn't say. It was all too easy. One of my men lay in the gully and moaned. A masterly performancereally pitiablehe almost had me convinced. Like a fool your man came to investigate. I had another man waiting above, the barrel of his rifle in his hand. A very effective club, I assure you. . . ." Slowly Mallory unclenched his fists and stared bleakly down the gully. Of course Casey would fall for that, he was bound to after what had happened earlier in the night. He wasn't going to make a fool of himself again, cry "wolf" twice in succession: inevitably, he had gone to check first. Suddenly the thought occurred to Mallory that maybe Casey Brown had heard something earlier on, but the thought vanished as soon as purchase kodak digital camera it had come. Panayis did not look like the man to make a mistake: and Andrea never made a mistake; Mallory turned back to the officer again. "Well, where do we go from here?" "Margaritha, and very shortly. But one thing first." The German, his own height to an inch, stood squarely in front of him, levelled revolver at waist height, switched-off torch dangling loosely from his right hand. "Just a little thing, Englishman. Where are the explosives?" He almost spat the words out. "Explosives?" Mallory furrowed his brow in perplexity. "What explosives?" be asked blankly, then staggered and fell to the ground as the heavy torch swept round in a vicious half-circle, caught him flush on the side of the face. Dizzily he shook his head and climbed slowly to his feet again. "The explosives." The torch was balanced in the hand again, the voice silky and gentle. "I asked you where they were." "I don't know what you are talking about." Mallory spat out a broken tooth, wiped some blood off his smashed lips. "Is this the way the Germans treat their prisoners?" he asked contemptuously. "Shut up!" Again the torch lashed out. Mallory was waiting for it, rode the blow as best he could: even so the torch caught him heavily high up on the cheekbone, just below the temple, stunning him with its jarring impact. Seconds passed, then he pushed himself slowly off the snow, the whole side of his face afire with agony, his vision blurred and unfocused. "We fight a clean war!" The officer was breathing heavily, in barely controlled fury. "We fight by the Geneva Conventions. But these are for soldiers, not for murdering spies" "We are no spies!" Mallory interrupted. He felt as if his head was coming apart. "Then where are your uniforms?" the officer demanded. "Spies, I saymurdering spies who stab in the back and cut men's throats!" The voice was trembling with anger. Mallory was at a lossnothing spurious about this indignation. "Cut men's throats?" He shook his head in bewilderment. "What the heli are you talking about?" "My own batman. A harmless messenger, a boy onlyand he wasn't even armed. We found him only an hour ago. Ach, I waste my time!" He broke off as he turned to watch two men coming up the gully. Mallory stood motionless for a moment, cursing the ifi luck that had led the dead man across the path of Panayisit could have been no one elsethen

And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,

was on my feet, running after the tractor, Jackstraw at my heels: I suppose that wound just below my shoulder must have been hurting like hell, but the truth is that I felt nothing at all. The tractor, with next to no adhesion left on the steepening slope of ice, accelerated with dismaying speed, soon outdistancing us. At first it seemed as if Smallwood was making some attempt to steer it, but it was obvious almost immediately that any such attempts were utterly useless: five tons of steel ran amok, it was completely out of control, skidding violently first to one side then the other, finally making a complete half-circle and sliding backward down the glacier at terrifying speed, following the slope of the ice which led from the right-hand side where we had been standing to the big nunataks thrusting up through the ice on the far left-hand corner of the dog-leg half-way down. How it missed all the crevassesit went straight across some narrow ones, thanks to its treadsand all the ice-mounds on the way down and across the glacier I shall never know, but miss them it did, increasing speed with every second that passed, its treads screeching out a shrilly metallic cacophony of sound as they scored their serrated way across and through the uneven ice of the glacier. But then, I shall never know either how Jackstraw and I survived all the crazy chances we took on our mad headlong run down that glacier, unable to stop, leaping across crevasses we would never have dared attempt in our normal minds, pounding our sliding way alongside others where the slip of either foot would have been our death. We were still two hundred yards behind the tractor when, less than fifty yards from the corner, it struck an ice-mound, spun round crazily several times and then smashed, tail first, with horrifying force into the biggest of the nunataksa fifty-foot pinnacle of rock at the very corner. We were still over a hundred yards away when we saw Small wood, obviously dazed, half-fall out of the still upright driving cabin, hat-box in hand, followed by the girl. Whether she flung herself at him or just stumbled against him it was impossible to say, but both of them slipped and fell together and next moment had disappeared from sight against the face of the nunatak. Still fifty yards away, already trying all we could to brake ourselves, we heard the staccato roar of cannon shells seemingly directly above us and as I flung myself flat on the ice, not to avoid the fire but to stop myself before I, too, plunged into the digital camera lens review 20 crevasse by the nunatak where I knew Margaret and Smallwood must have disappeared, I caught a glimpse of two Scimitars hurtling low across the glacier, red fire streaking from their guns. For a moment, rolling over and over, I saw no more, then I had another glimpse of the lower part of the glacier, of exploding cannon shells raking a lethal barrier of fragmenting steel across the glacier's entire width, and, about sixty or seventy yards lower down, the men from the trawler lying flat on their faces to escape the whistling flying shrapnel. Even in that brief moment I had time to see a third Scimitar screaming down out of the north, exactly following the path of the other two. They were making no attempt to kill the trawler men, obviously they were under the strictest instructions to avoid any but the most necessary bloodshed. And it wasn't necessary, if ever anything was crystal clear it was the fact that we weren't going to have any trouble at all from those trawler men. Both men and trawler could depart now, unmolested: with the missile mechanism beyond their reach, they no longer mattered. Ten yards ahead of Jackstraw, sick to the heart and almost mad with fear, I reached the crevasse by the nunatakno more than a three-foot wide gap between ice and rockpeered down over the side, and as I peered I felt faint from the wave of relief that swept over me: the crevasse, narrowing as it went down to not much more than two feet, ended about fifteen feet down in a solid shelf of rock, a ledge sculpted by thousands of years of moving, grinding ice. Margaret and Smallwood were still on their feet, shaky, I could see, but seemingly unharmedit had been a short drop and they could have slowed their descent by pressing against both sides of the crevasse as they fell. Smallwood, flattened lips drawn back over his teeth, was staring up at me, his pistol barrel pressed savagely against Margaret's temple. "A rope, Mason!" he said softly. "Get me a rope. This crevasse is closingthe ice is moving!" And it was, I knew it was. All glaciers moved, some of them, on this West Greenland coast, with astonishing speedthe great Upernivik glacier, farther north, covered over four feet every hour. As if in confirmation of his words, the ice beneath my feet groaned and shuddered and slid forward a couple of inches. "Hurry up!" Smallwood's incomparable nerve held to the last, his voice was urgent but completely under