Antagonist - Childe Cycle 11 (20 page)

Toni
was
smiling
broadly—
of
course!
Henry
couldn't
have
added
the gravity
receiver
to
my
pad
without
her
knowledge.

Not
only
was
she
generally
in
charge
of
Bleys'
communications, but
she
and
Henry
had
a
bond
of
their
own,
and
would
likely
have worked
together
on
something
like
this.

"I
have
to
ask
you,"
Henry
was
continuing,
"to
try
to
find
a
way to
attract
the
enemy's
attention
on
the
zero
mark.
Getting
their
attention
could
make
all
the
difference,
by
letting
us
get
right
in
on them
before
they
notice
us.
Any
sort
of
demonstration
would
help, and
the
louder
the
better."
He
paused.

"Bleys,
anything
you
in
there
can
do
might
save
more
than
one
of our
lives."

The
words
reminded
Bleys
of
the
Soldiers
who
had
died
helping him
escape
from
Newton.
Toni
had
counseled
him
to
find
a
way
to say
something
to
Henry
about
those
men
and
women,
but
he
never had
...
he
just
couldn't
find
the
words.

The
first
voice
he
had
heard
resumed
its
countdown:
"Nine
min
utes
fifteen
seconds,"
it
said.
Then:
"Nine
minutes
ten
seconds "

At
the
nine-minute
mark
Henry's
words
repeated
themselves. Bleys,
thinking
furiously,
listened
through
Henry's
message
again, and
then
set
the
pad
to
give
him
a
visual
countdown
only.
He looked
about.

Everyone—except
for
the
two
wounded
soldiers,
who
were unconscious—was
still
looking
at
him.
He
turned
to
face
the
soldiers
grouped
near
the
door,
and
then
raised
both
arms,
bringing
his hands
up
to
the
level
of
his
eyes,
where
they
acted
as
a
frame
for
his face.
The
soldiers
seemed
to
cluster
together
about
their
sergeant, their
eyes
now
all
on
his
face.

Bleys
faced
them
for
a
moment,
silent
and
dramatic,
with
feet slightly
apart;
and
then
he
paced—smoothly,
with
short,
slow steps—toward
them.
Inside,
he
was
wishing
he
had
worn
the
black half-cape
he
used
on
public
occasions,
with
its
red,
shiny
lining
intended
to
attract
attention.
Still,
the
situation
had
focused
their
attention
on
him
in
a
way
he
had
never
experienced
before—and certainly
his
need
to
be
persuasive
had
never
been
stronger....

"Now
is
the
moment,"
he
said.
And
he
put
into
those
words
all the
training
he
had
used
to
make
his
voice
strong
and
comforting, sure
and
mellow.
"Now
is
our
moment!"

He
focused
on
the
eyes
of
the
shortest
of
the
soldiers,
a
dark-skinned
youth
who
had
picked
up
a
cut
on
his
left
cheek
that
left
a thin
dried
ribbon
of
blood
down
the
side
of
his
face.
The
youth's eyes
widened
slightly
as
Bleys
tried
to
pour
his
certainty
down
the channel
between
them.

"You've
performed
well,"
Bleys
said,
"all
of
you!
No
one
would have
expected
you
to
hold
off
those
people
out
there."
Bleys'
eyes moved
to
those
of
the
tall
man
off
to
the
side
of
the
group;
and
that young
man's
eyes
widened
in
turn,
staring
into
Bleys'
eyes.
Bleys, his
own
vision
focused
tightly
down,
could
see
the
pupils
of
the young
soldier's
eyes
as
they
dilated
slightly.

Bleys
spoke
on,
capturing
each
soldier
in
turn
with
his
eyes
while
he
spoke
of
their
bravery
and
worth,
of
the
task
that
lay
ahead,
and of
how
their
deeds
would
look
to
those
who
were
coming
to
find them.

Their
sergeant,
he
saw,
had
broken
loose
from
the
spell,
and
was now
looking
with
a
puzzled
expression
at
the
rapt
faces
of
his
men.

"Gather
together,"
Bleys
told
the
men,
"and
feel
the
trust
of
your companions.
Each
of
them
trusts
you,
as
do
I."
He
broke
off,
and
gestured
the
sergeant
forward
with
a
short
wave
of
his
arm.
As
the
man moved
forward,
Bleys
extended
the
arm
to
drape
it
lightly
on
the man's
shoulder,
pulling
him
in
toward
Bleys'
own
body;
and
as
he did
so,
Bleys
himself
pivoted,
the
action
serving
to
pull
the
sergeant away
from
his
men,
who,
oblivious,
were
gathering
in
a
circle
and speaking
quietly
and
warmly
to
each
other,
joy
on
their
faces.

"Sergeant,"
Bleys
said,
now
stepping
to
the
side,
away
from
the man,
"I
know
this
seems
strange
to
you."
For
the
first
time
Bleys
saw that
the
man
was
himself
hurt,
a
red
stain
showing
on
his
left
side, just
above
hip
level.
The
stain
seemed
large,
but
had
been
crudely-bandaged
and
was
hidden
from
normal
view
by
the
man's
battle jacket.
Now
that
he
was
paying
attention,
he
also
saw
that
the
man seemed
to
be
holding
his
left
shoulder
slightly
hunched,
as
if
it,
too, had
been
injured.