From the seat of his ancestors, bids you adieu!

chill mountain air and he could see two, three and then half a dozen men breaking cover, heading at a clumsy run straight up the face of the hilland two of them had come from the extreme right of the line. Andrea lowered the mirror and relaxed with a long sigh of relief, eyes crinkling in a smile. He looked up at the sky, blinked as the first feathery flakes of falling snow melted on his eyelids and smiled again. Almost lazily he brought out another charger for the Mauser, fed more shells into the magazine. "Boss?" Miller's voice was plaintive. "Yes? What is it?" Mallory brushed some snow off his face and the collar of his smock and peered into the white darkness ahead. "Boss, when you were in school did you ever read any stories about folks gettin' lost in a snowstorm and wanderin' round and round in circles for days?" "We had exactly the same book in Queenstown," Mallory conceded. "Wanderin' round and round until they died?" Miller persisted. "Oh, for heaven's sake!" Mallory said impatiently. His feet, even in Stevens's roomy boots, hurt abominably. "How can we be wandering in circles if we're going downhill all the time? What do you think we're ona bloody spiral staircase?" Miller walked on in hurt silence, Mallory beside him, both men ankle-deep in the wet, clinging snow that had been falling so silently, so persistently, for the past three hours since Andrea had drawn off the Jaeger search party. Even in mid-winter in the White Mountains in Crete Mallory could recall no snowfall so heavy and continuous. So much for the Isles of Greece and the eternal sunshine that gilds them yet, he thought bitterly. He hadn't reckoned on this when he'd planned on going down to Margaritha for food and fuel, but even so it wouldn't have made any difference in his decision. Although in less pain now, Stevens was becoming steadily weaker, and the need was desperate. With moon and stars blanketed by the heavy snowcloudsvisibility, indeed, was hardly more than ten feet in any directionthe loss of their compasses had assumed a crippling importance. He didn't doubt his ability to find the vifiageit was simply a matter of walking downhill till they came to the stream that ran through the valley, then following that north till they came to Margarithabut if the snow didn't let up their chances of locating that tiny cave again in the vast sweep of the hillsides . . . Mallory smothered an exclamation as Miller's hand digital camera notebook battery closed round his upper arm, dragged him down to his knees in the snow. Even in that moment of unknown danger he could feel a slow stirring of anger against himself, for his attention had been wandering along with his thoughts. . . . He lifted his hand as vizor against the snow, peered out narrowly through the wet, velvety curtain of white that swirled and eddied out of the darkness before him. Suddenly he had ita - dark, squat shape only feet away. They had all but walked straight into it. "It's the hut," he said softly in Miller's ear. He had seen it early in the afternoon, half-way between their cave and Margaritha, and almost in a line with both. He was conscious of relief, an increase in confidence: they would be in the vifiage in less than half an hour. "Elementary navigation, my dear Corporal," he murmured. "Lost and wandering in circles, my foot! Just put your faith . . ." He broke off as Miller's fingers dug viciously into his arm, as Miller's head came close to his own. - "I heard voices, boss." The words wer.e a mere breath of sound. "Are you sure?" Miller's silenced gun, Mallory noticed, was still in his pocket. Miller hesitated. "Dammit to hell, boss, I'm sure of nothin'," he whispered irritably. "I've been imaginin' every damn' thing possible in the past hour!" He pulled the snow hood off his head, the better to listen, bent forward for a few seconds, then sank back again. "Anyway, I'm sure I thought I heard somethin'." "Come on. Let's take a look-see." Mallory was on his feet again. "I think you're mistaken. Can't be the Jaeger boysthey were half-way back across Mount Kostos when we saw them last. And the shepherds only use these places in the summer months." He slipped the safety catch of his Colt .455, walked slowly, at a halfcrouch, towards the nearest wall of the hut, Miller at his shoulder. - They reached the hut, put their ears against the frail, tarpaper walls. Then seconds passed, twenty, half a minute, then Mallory relaxed. "Nobody at home. Or if they are, they're keeping mighty quiet. But no chances, Dusty. You go that way. I'll go this. Meet at the doorthat'll be on the opposite side, facing into the valley. . . . Walk wide at the cornersnever fails to baffle the unwary." A minute later both men were inside the hut, the door shut behind them. The hooded beam

"I pray thee tell to me:"

against the table top. "For Gawd's sake, boss, how much longer?" Mallory looked at him, then looked away. He knew exactly how Dusty Miller felt, for he felt that way himselftense, keyed-up, every nerve strung to the tautest pitch of efficiency. So much depended on the next few minutes; whether all their labour and their suffering had been necessary, whether the men on Kheros would live or die, whether Andy Stevens had lived and died in vain. Mallory looked at Miller again, saw the nervous hands, the deepened wrinkles round the eyes, the tightly compressed mouth, white at the outer corners, saw all these signs of strain, noted them and discounted them. Excepting Andrea alone, of all the men he had ever known he would have picked the lean, morose American to be his companion that night. Or maybe even including Andrea. "The finest saboteur in southern Europe" Captain Jensen had called him back in Alexandria. Miller had come a long way from Alexandria, and he had come for this alone. To-night was Miller's night. "Curfew in fifteen minutes," he said quietly. "The balloon goes up in twelve minutes. For us, another four minutes to go." Miller nodded, but said nothing. He filled his glass again from the beaker in the middle of the table, lit a cigarette. Mallory could see a nerve twitching high up in his temple and wondered dryly how many twitching nerves Miller could see in his own face. He wondered, too, how the crippled Casey Brown was getting on in the house they had just left. In many ways he had the most responsible job of alland at the critical moment he would have to leave the door unguarded, move back to the balcony. One slip up there. . . . He saw Miller look strangely at him and grinned crookedly. This had to come off, it just had to: he thought of what must surely happen if he failed, then shied away from the thought. It wasn't good to think of these things, not now, not at this time. He wondered if the other two were at their posts, unmolested; they should be, the search party had long passed through the upper part of the town; but you never knew what could go wrong, there was so much that could go wrong, and so easily. Mallory looked at his watch again: he had never seen a second hand move so slowly. He lit a last cigarette, poured a final glass of wine, listened without really hearing to the weird, keening threnody of the rembetika song in the corner. And then the song of the hashish singers died plaintively away, the glasses were empty and Mallory was on his feet. "Time bringeth all digital camera and printing things," he murmured. "Here we go again." He sauntered easily towards the door, calling good night to the tavernaris. Just at the doorway he paused, began to search impatiently through his pockets as if he had lost something: it was a windless night, and it was raining, he saw, raining heavily, the lances of rain bouncing inches off the cobbled streetand the street itself was deserted as far as he could see in either direction. Satisfied, Mallory swung round with a curse, forehead furrowed in exasperation, started to walk back towards the table he had just left, right hand now delving into the capacious inner pocket of his jacket. He saw without seeming to that Dusty Miller was pushing his chair back, rising to his feet. And then Mallory bad halted, his face clearing and his hands no longer searching. He was exactly three feet from the table where the four Germans were sitting. "Keep quite still!" He spoke in German, his voice low but as steady, as menacing, as the Navy Colt .455 balanced in his right hand. "We are desperate men. If you move we will kill you." For a full, three seconds the soldiers sat immobile, expressionless except for the shocked widening of their eyes. And then there was a quick flicker of the eyelids from the man sitting nearest the counter, a twitching of the shoulder and then a grunt of agonyas the .32 bullet smashed into his upper arm. The soft thud of Miller's silenced automatic couldn't have been heard beyond the doorway. "Sorry, boss," Miller apologised. "Mebbe be's only sufferin' from St. Vitus' Dance." He looked with interest at the pain-twisted face, the blood welling darkly be.. tween the fingers clasped tightly over the wound. "But he looks kinda cured to me." "He is cured," Mallory said grimly. He turned to the inn-keeper, a tall, melancholy man with a thin face and mandarin moustache that drooped forlornly over either corner of his mouth, spoke to him in the quick, colloquial speech of the islands. "Do these men speak Greek?" The tavernaris shook his head. Completely unruffled and unimpressed, he seemed to regard armed hold-ups in his tavern as the rule rather than the exception. "Not them!" he said contemptuously. "English a little, I thinkI am sure. But not our language. That I do know." "Good. I am a British Intelligence officer. Have you a place where I can hide these men?" "You shouldn't have done this," the tavernaris

And break at once - or yield to song

of your assailants and broke three arms, a leg, and two skulls. Who was it? A woman Trag moved into her vision, registering with a stolid blink that her hands were busy comforting Lars Dahl. The search and seize stirred up a great deal of hatred and resentment, Killashandra Ree, and as you were the object of that search, your likeness was well circulated. Your appearance on the streets made you an obvious target for revenge. We never thought of that, did we? she said ruefully. The movement to her right caused her to flinch away and then offer profuse apologies, for Nahia was moving to comfort the distraught Lars. So you took the pain away, Nahia? My profound thanks, Killashandra said. Even crystal singers nerve ends dont heal as quickly as flesh. So Trag told us. And that crystal singers cannot assimilate many of the pain-relieving drugs. Are you in any pain now? Nahias hands gently rested on Lars head in a brief benison, but her beautiful eyes searched Killashandras face. Not in the flesh, Killashandra said, dropping her gaze to Larss shuddering body. It is relief, Nahia said, and best expressed. Then Killashandra began to chuckle, Well, we achieved what I set out to do in meeting Corish. Got you all here! Far more than that, Trag said as the others smiled. A third attack on you gave me the excuse to call a scout ship to get us off this planet. The Guild contract has been fulfilled and, as I informed the Elders Council, we have no wish to cause domestic unrest if the public objects so strongly to the presence of crystal singers. How very tactful of you. Belatedly remembering caution, Killashandra looked up at the nearest monitor, relieved to find it was a black hole. Did the jammer survive? No, Trag said, but white crystal, in dissonance, distorts sufficiently. Theyve stopped wasting expensive units. And Killashandra prompted, encouraging Trag since he was being uncharacteristically informative. He nodded, Olavs grin broadened, and even Hauness looked pleased. Those shards provide enough white crystal to get the most vulnerable people past the security curtain. Nahia and Hauness will organize a controlled exodus until the Federated Council can move. Lars and Olav come with us on the scout ship. Brassner, Theach, and Erutown are to be picked up by Tanny in the Pearl Fisher and leave with Corish on the liner Corish? polaroid digital camera t737 Killashandra looked about expectantly. Hes searching most thoroughly for his uncle, Hauness said, and attending the public concerts which have been hastily inaugurated, to soothe a disturbed public. Whats the diet? Security, pride, reassurance, no sex, Hauness replied. Then you didnt get to the other organs, Trag? Corish suggested that some should be left in, shall we say, normal operating condition as evidence, to be seen by the Federal Investigators. What Trag doesnt say, Killashandra, replied Nahia, a luminous smile gently rebuking the other crystal singer, is that he refused to leave you. As the only way to prevent the Infirmary from interfering with the symbiont, Trag said, bluntly, disclaiming any hint of sentiment. Lars thought to send for Nahia to relieve pain. For which I am truly grateful. Ive only a tolerable ache left. How long have I been out? Five days, Hauness replied, scrutinizing her professionally. He placed the end of a hand-diagnostic unit lightly against her neck, nodding in a brief approval of its readings. Much better. Incredible in fact. Anyone else would have died of any one of several of the wounds you received. Or that cracked skull. Am I dead or alive? To Optheria? Trag asked. No official acknowledgment of the attack has been broadcast. The whole episode has been extremely embarrassing for the government. I should bloody hope so! Wait till I see Ampris! Not in that frame of mind, you wont, Trag assured her, repressively stern. No more of us for the time being, Hauness said, nodding significantly to the others. Unless Nahia Killashandra closed her eyes for a moment, since moving her head seemed inadvisable. But she opened them to warn Hauness from disturbing Lars, who was still kneeling by the bed. He no longer wept but pressed her hand against his cheek as if he would never release it. The door closed quietly behind the others. So you and Olav can just walk into the scout ship? she asked softly, trying to lighten his penitence. Not quite, he said with a weak chuckle, but, still holding her hand, he straightened up, leaning forward, toward her, on his