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of some night-shift supervisor in one of the distant watchtowers or go down
the fast way.
Miles sighed under his breath. Rappelling high over rock-hard surfaces was one
of his all-time least-favorite activities. He fished the drop-wire spool from
its own little pocket on his Dendarii jacket, attached the gravitic grappler
carefully and firmly to the railing, and double-checked it. At a touch,
handles telescoped out from the sides of the spool and released the wide
ribbon-harness that always looked horribly flimsy despite its phenomenal
tensile strength. Miles threaded it round himself, clipped it tight, hopped
over the rail and danced down the wall backwards, not looking down. By the
time he reached the bottom his adrenalin was pumping nicely, thank you.
He sent the spool winding itself back up to Galeni, who repeated Miles s
performance. Galeni offered no comment about his feelings about heights as he
handed back the device, so neither did Miles. Miles touched the control that
released the grappler and rewound and pocketed the spool.
"We go right," Miles nodded. He drew his holstered stunner. "What did you
bring?"
"I could only get one stunner." Galeni pulled it from his pocket, checked its
charge and setting.
"And you?"
"Two. And a few other toys. There are severe limits to what you can carry
through shuttleport security."
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"Considering how crowded this place is, I think they re wise," remarked
Galeni.
Stunners in hand, they walked single file along the ledge, Miles first. Sea
water swirled and gurgled just below their feet, green-brown transluscence
frosted with streaks of foam within the circles of light, silky black beyond.
Judging from the discoloration, this walkway was inundated at high tide.
Miles motioned Galeni to pause, and slipped forward. Just beyond the outcurve
the walkway widened to a four-meter circle and dead-ended, the railing arcing
around to meet the wall. In the wall was a doorway, a sturdy watertight oval
hatch.
Standing in front of the hatch were Galen and Mark, stunners in their hands.
Mark wore black T-
shirt and Dendarii grey trousers and boots, minus the pocketed jacket his own
clothes, pilfered, Miles wondered, or duplicates? His nostrils flared as he
spotted his grandfather s dagger in its lizard-skin sheath at the clone s
waist.
"A stand-off," remarked Galen conversationally as Miles halted, with a glance
at Miles s stunner and his own. "If we all fire at once, it leaves either me
or my Miles on his feet, and the game is mine. But if by some miracle you
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dropped us both, we could not tell you where your oxlike cousin is. He d die
before you could find him. His death has been automated. I need not get back
to him to carry it out. Quite the reverse. Your pretty bodyguard may as well
join us."
Galeni stepped around the bend. "Some stand-offs are more curious than
others," he said.
Galen s face flickered from its hard irony, lips parting in a breath of deep
dismay, then tightening again even as his hand tightened on his weapon. "You
were to bring the woman," he hissed.
Miles smiled slightly. "She s around. But you said two, and we are two. Now
all the interested parties are here. Now what?"
Galen s eyes shifted, counting weapons, calculating distances, muscle, odds no
doubt; Miles was doing the same.
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"The stand-off remains," said Galen. "If you re both stunned you lose; if
we re both stunned you lose again. It s absurd."
"What would you suggest?" asked Miles.
"I propose we all lay our weapons in the center of the deck. Then we can talk
without distraction."
He s got another one concealed, thought Miles. Same as me. "An interesting
proposition. Who puts his down last?"
Galen s face was a study in unhappy calculation.
He opened his mouth and closed it again, and shook his head slightly.
"I too would like to talk without distraction," said Miles carefully. "I
propose this schedule.
I ll lay mine down first. Then
M the clone. Then yourself. Captain Galeni last."
"What guarantee . . . ?" Galen glanced sharply at his son. The tension between
them was near-
sickening, a strange and silent compound of rage, despair, and anguish.
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