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Ryan looked at his lover, noting her sudden pallor. "You going to be okay in there, or are
you going to have to stay out here?"
Krysty hesitated before answering. "I'll be okay, lover, but the power of these roots is
very strong. I can feel the spirit of Gaia in them. They've connected with something very
old, or maybe they've been a part of it all along." She took her hands back from the root.
"One thing I am sure of when you cut into that root, it's hooked up to an alarm system
of some sort that will warn Boldt."
"You sure?" J.B. asked.
Krysty nodded. "I got a glimpse of it while I was feeling out the power of the roots."
"Know what?" Jak questioned.
"No. But it felt alien from the roots, separate but connected."
"Perhaps the roots are wired into one of the computers," Doc conjectured. "There was
some experimentation along those lines that I saw when I was back in the Totality
Concept labs."
"So he's going to know we're coming," Ryan said.
"Someone's coming," Krysty corrected. "I don't think he'll know who."
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"If he does," J.B. said, "and if Mildred's still alive, it could go hard on her."
Ryan nodded and scratched an itchy place near his empty eye socket under the patch.
"Got no choice about going in, J.B."
The Armorer adjusted his glasses. "I know it. Just putting it out there to be mindful."
"No alarms yet?" Ryan asked Krysty.
"No."
"Boldt going to know where we're at, or just that his sec integrity's been violated?"
"I don't think he'll know where."
Ryan slipped a camp ax from his pack. "Doc, you and Jak keep widening this gap. I'm
going to chop our way in. J.B., you and Krysty got lookout."
The companions spread out. The Armorer and Krysty took up positions at the opposite
ends of the trench, their rifles in their arms. Jak took up the shovel Ryan left sticking in
the dirt at his feet and started attacking the earthen wall with Doc.
Setting himself, Ryan swung the ax. The blade bit deeply into the pulp of the root. Dark
sap oozed out in sticky patterns, clinging to the ax like death blood.
VICTOR BOLDT, Prince of the Celts and ruler of Wildroot, stood in front of the
computer system, watching the images relayed from the concealed cameras to the twenty
screens inside the room. More than half of them were working, though some of them only
just. Screens two and nine were fuzzy, and the colors were off, painting images in garish
greens.
"Is there nothing we can do to the cameras?" Boldt asked irritably. His understanding of
the camera equipment was rudimentary at best. Had his father lived, though, he was
certain he would have known everything about them. His father would have taught him.
That was one of the things he missed most about the man.
"Not without physical restoration and repair at those ends," a deep, sonorous voice
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responded. The voice belonged to Merlin, the computer Boldt's father had set up and
programmed to bring Wildroot online after the nuclear war or plague. "You've been
notified of this."
He watched over the shadowed terrain. His feelings of paranoia had increased of late,
making periods of restfulness hard to come by. The only times he had any release were
during periods of high emotion, times when he was in the thick of physical activity.
"Someone is at the door," Merlin said.
"Who?" Boldt asked.
Screen one cleared and showed a view of Pepper standing in the hallway. The seed herald
looked bored.
"Subject Pepper," Merlin intoned.
"Allow him," Boldt said. He turned and shook his cape out, preparing to meet the seed
herald.
Pepper came into the room, holding his assault rifle in his hand. "I've got men out there
everywhere, Prince Boldt. So far they've seen nothing."
"Then they're missing it," the Prince insisted. His paranoia assured him he was right.
"The rebels know the Time of the Great Uprooting is near. They're not going to accept it
like a bunch of sheep."
"Yes, sire. But all I can report to you is that things remain quiet."
"Given time, I think they will act. Before they do, I want to strike first."
"Then let us do it now," Pepper said. "We're ready. Come first light, we could be among
them before they had a chance to get prepared."
Boldt studied the big man's chiseled face, seeing the bloodlust color the seed herald's
features. Pepper was a tool he loved to use. But that tool only garnered the best results
when wielded dispassionately. Besides, in order for the plague to be activated to its full
potential, the Celts would have to be first infected, then broken and driven from their
homelands into the outer regions.
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"No. It's enough that we are not taken unawares." Boldt resumed his study of the
monitors. "What about the New Londoners?"
Pepper approached one of the screens and tapped it. The light washed over him, leeching
the color out of his garments and turning them gray. "For the time being, they remain
here." His forefinger traced a tree line.
"Hew far away?" Boldt thought he knew from the past times he'd ridden that way.
"A quarter mile."
"They're close, then."
"Well out of arrow shot," the seed herald replied, "and beyond the range of the first
tanglers. They won't be moving against the tanglers. Not in the dark."
"What about the boy?" Boldt asked.
"I don't know what's become of him," Pepper admitted.
"He appeared to be going willingly with those people you confronted."
Pepper dropped his head uncomfortably.
"If he's working with them," Boldt stated, "he could sing a song to get any number of
New Londoners through the tanglers unharmed."
"Yes, sire."
"Do not assume we are safe here," Boldt said. "We've got enemies within and without."
"I understand."
Boldt glanced at the screen and tried to puzzle it out. "Never before have the New [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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