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“Bad reality is worse.”
“Dreams are real while you’re in them,” she said. “You know, every time I think of us, the bad goes away. We heal each other.”
Her words and the pressure of her against him stirred Panille fully awake. Kareen sighed, rolled astride him in one smooth movement and gripped him deep inside her. Her breasts brushed his chest as they swayed back and forth. His breath was her breath then, and she called out his name as she collapsed, gasping, against him.
Panille held her gently, stroking her back. “Kareen,” he said.
“Mm?”
“I like to say your name.”
He remembered this as he stood watch in Current Control and murmured her name under his breath. It helped.
The main entry hatch to Current Control behind Panille swung open with a sharp hiss, indicating quick entry without waiting for the outer lock to seal. Surprised, Panille started to turn and felt hard metal pressed against his back. A downward glance showed him a lasgun against his flesh. Panille recognized the man holding it—Gulf Nakano, Gallow’s man. Nakano’s bulky form stepped clear of the entry way, pushing Panille ahead of him. Nakano was followed by three other Mermen, all dive-suited, all armed and all thin-lipped serious.
“What is this?” Panille demanded.
“Shhhh,” Nakano hissed. He motioned the others around him, then: “All right! Everybody stand up!”
Panille watched the other intruders move swiftly, methodically to equidistant positions near the center of the room. One operator protested and was clubbed to the deck. Panille started to speak but Nakano thrust a huge palm against his mouth, saying, “Stay alive, Panille. It’s better.”
The three attackers set their lasguns on short-flame and began demolishing Current Control. Plaz melted and popped, control boards sizzled. Small black snakes of vinyl precipitated out of the air. Everything was done with a chilling deliberation. In less than a minute, it was all over and Panille knew they would be at least a year replacing this … brain.
He was outraged but the destruction daunted him. His assistants leaned against one wall, shock and fear in their eyes.
One woman knelt over the downed operator, dabbing at the side of his face with a corner of her blouse.
“We have Kareen Ale,” Nakano said. “I’m told that would interest you.” Panille felt his chest tighten.
“Your cooperation insures her safety,” Nakano said. “You are to come with us, on a litter as a casualty we’re transporting for the medics.”
“Where are we going?”
“That’s not your concern. Just tell me whether you will come quietly.”
Panille swallowed, then nodded.
“We’re welding the inner hatch closed as we leave,” Nakano said. “Everyone here will be safe. When the next shift tries to get in, you’ll get out.”
One of the Mermen stepped forward. “Nakano,” he whispered past Panille, “Gallow said we should—”
“Shut up!” Nakano said. “I’m here and he’s not. The next shift doesn’t come in for at least four hours.”
At Nakano’s nod two of his men brought an emergency litter from the space between the hatches. Panille lay on the litter and was strapped to it. A blanket was tucked around him.
“This is a medical emergency,” Nakano said. “We hurry but we don’t run. Carry him through all hatchways headfirst. Panille, you close your eyes. You’re unconscious and I want you to stay that way or I’ll make it real.”
“I understand.”
“We don’t want anything nasty happening to the lady.”
This thought haunted Panille as they maneuvered through the hatchways and corridor.
Why me? Panille couldn’t imagine being that important to Gallow.
They stopped at a transport tube and Nakano tapped out the Emergency code. The next car stopped and a half-dozen curious faces peered out at Panille’s form on the litter.
“Quarantine!” Nakano said, his voice curt. “Everybody out. Don’t get too close.”
“What’s he got?” one woman asked. She skirted the litter widely.
“Something new picked up from the Mutes,” Nakano said. “We’re getting him out of Core. This car will be sterilized.”
The car emptied quickly and Panille’s bearers hustled him inside. The doors snicked closed and Nakano chuckled. “Every sniffle, every ache and pain will have sickbay crowded for days.”
“Why all this rush?” Panille asked. “And why cook Current Control?”
“Launch countdown has been resumed now that the Guemes matter is over. Medical emergency guarantees us a fast, nonstop trip. The rest … trade secrets.”
“What does the launch have to do with us?”
“Everything,” Nakano said. “We’re headed for Outpost Twenty-two, the recovery station for the hyb tanks.”
Panille felt the hot surge of adrenaline. The hyb tanks!
“Why take me there?” he asked.
“We’ve set up a new current control. You’re going to direct it.”
“I thought you were too smart to get caught up in Gallow’s wake,” Panille said.
A slow smile touched Nakano’s heavy face. “We’re going to free hundreds, maybe thousands, of humans in hyb. We’re going to liberate the prison they’ve endured for thousands of years.”
Panille, strapped on the litter, could only look from Nakano to the three henchmen. All three wore the same bliss-ninny grins.
“People from the hyb tanks?” Panille asked, his voice low.
Nakano nodded. “Genetically clean—pure humans.”
“You don’t know what’s up there,” Panille said. “Nobody knows.”
“Gallow knows,” Nakano said. There was hard belief in his voice, the kind of tone that indicates the necessity to believe.
The transport capsule’s overhead panel came to life and a recorded male voice droned: “Lighter-Than-Air, Base Bravo loading facility.”
The hatches hissed open. Panille’s litter was picked up and carried out onto the loading platform with near-surface light trickling through heavy plaz panels overhead.
Panille watched as much as he could through slitted eyelids.
An LTA facility? he wondered. But they said we were … The truth dawned—they were going to fly him to the outpost!
He almost opened his eyes but restrained himself. Blowing it now would not bring him closer to Kareen.
The litter moved with swift lurches and Panille heard Nakano’s voice behind him: “Medical emergency, clear the way.”
Panille’s slitted eyes showed him the LTA gondola interior—a squashed sphere about ten meters in diameter. It was nearly all plaz, with a canopy of gray above the orange hydrogen bag. He found himself both excited and fearful, filled with confusion at this fierce activity. He heard the hatch seal behind him and Nakano’s unruffled voice.
“We made it. You can relax, Panille. Everybody in here is secure.” Panille’s straps were loosed and he sat up.
“Tether release in two minutes,” the pilot reported.
Panille looked up at the orange canopy—the bag was a taper of pleats, its long folds hung down against the
cabin’s plaz. Once they were up and clear of the tube, more hydrogen would flow into the bag and fill it out. He glanced right and left, saw the two hydrogen jets that would propel them once they were topside.
The whine of a cable winch filled the gondola then. The pilot said, “Strap down, everyone. A bit rough up there today.”
Panille found himself dragged backward into a seat beside Nakano. A strap was fitted around his waist. He kept his attention on the pilot. No one spoke. Switches clicked like the hard-shelled chatter of mollusks.
“Topside hatch open,” the pilot said, speaking into a microphone at his throat. A halo of white light filtered around the bag above them.
The cabin lurched and Panille glanced out to his left, momentarily dizzy with the sensation that the gondola had stayed stationary and the launch tube was moving downward past him at increasing speed.
The winch sound silenced abruptly and he heard the hiss of the bag against the tube’s walls. The bag cleared the tube then and light washed the cabin. Panille heard a gasp behind him, then they were clear of the water, into a cloudy gray day, swaying beneath the expanding hydrogen bag. The jets swung out with a low whine and were ignited. The swaying motion of the gondola steadied. Almost immediately, they entered a rain squall.
“Sorry, we won’t be able to see the rocket launch because of this weather,” the pilot said. He flicked a switch beside him and a small screen on the panel in front of him came alight. “We can watch the official coverage, though.”
Panille couldn’t see from where he sat and the pilot had the sound turned down. The gondola emerged from the rainstorm, still pelted by the runoff from the bag overhead. They began swaying wildly and the pilot fought to control the motion. His flurried movement had little effect. Panille noted with some satisfaction that the Merman guards had green expressions that had nothing to do with their camouflage.
“What’s going on?” This was a woman’s voice from behind Panille. A voice he could not mistake. He froze, then slowly turned and stared past his captors. Kareen. She sat beside the entry hatch where she had been hidden from him as he entered. Her face was very pale, her eyes dark shadows above her cheeks, and she did not meet his gaze.
