“But Beershaba…”

  “…is worlds away,” Caroline confirmed.

  “Why didn’t you tell us? We could have evacuated the town.”

  “We tried to. The councilors refused my father’s offer. They didn’t believe him, either. By the time they were prepared to take the chance, it was too late. We could not risk the raiders getting through the gates, or taking control of them.”

  “So you stayed.”

  “I insisted. Father was against it, but mother pointed out he was the only one with rank enough to force the shipping guild to keep the gates functional until it was safe, once more.”

  “Or until you could convince the elders to accept your offer of rescue, and the raiders gave you enough time to execute it,” Michael finished for her.

  “Yes, or until then. In the end, he had to let me stay, but he insisted on taking his grandchildren with him.” She looked over at Michelle.

  “I couldn’t reach you in time,” she added. “I’m sorry.”

  Michelle opened her mouth to reply, thought better of it, closed her mouth again and shrugged. As casual as the gesture was, Michael still glimpsed the hurt in her eyes, but Caroline laid a hand on either shoulder and pressed her forehead against his.

  “If the villagers agree, I can open the gates.”

  He stilled, closed his eyes, and sifted through the questions clamoring in his head. He chose one, opening his eyes to meet the plea in her gaze.

  “How long will it take?” Michael asked, remembering staying whole nights on the ridge, just to watch her dance.

  “It’ll take less time now that I don’t have to go right to the edge of town.”

  “How much less time?” Michael demanded.

  “An hour.”

  “Is that all?”

  “To complete it? Yes.” Caroline said.

  Michael was baffled.

  “Then why did it take so long before?”

  Caroline blushed, her glance toward him, full of shy mischief.

  “Before? It took so long before, because I danced for you.”

  “For me?”

  “I did not want you to forget me.”

  Michelle snorted, and Caroline glanced towards her.

  “I did not want you to forget me, either,” she said.

  “You left me.” Michelle’s answer was clipped just shy of outright rudeness. “How could I forget that?”

  “I had no choice,” Caroline told her, “And I remembered your birthday every year. I dedicated weeks to remembering you.”

  At Michelle’s look of disbelief, Caroline rose from her seat.

  “Come.”

  Michelle cast a questioning glance towards her father as Caroline moved towards the inner door. He shrugged and indicated she should follow, and after another moment’s hesitation, the girl trailed in her mother’s footsteps.

  Michael gave them a short head start, before trailing in their wake. He was curious to see what Caroline had planned. He followed as Caroline led Michelle up to the second floor. It consisted of twenty rooms, arrayed along a single corridor. Michael hesitated at the head of the stairs and let the two women reach the end of the first corridor before taking the final step to the landing.

  Moving ghost-quiet, he stepped into an alcove, listening to Caroline as she spoke.

  “This was for your ninth birthday. You’d wanted a doll. I left the money on the counter of Cale’s Trading Post and took it. You liked butterflies, so I painted you a picture.”

  Michael heard Michelle gasp, and then Caroline was moving, giving their daughter no time to comment further.

  “Come, you can take your time to look later.”

  Michael pulled back into the alcove as he heard Caroline cross the floor to the door. When she exited the room, she merely walked to the next one and unlocked it. Michelle followed, pulling the door to her ninth-birthday room closed behind her.

  “For your tenth birthday, I thought long and hard. I wanted so very much to surprise you, but with the trade routes closed, but this was the best I could come up with.”

  Peering round the corner, Michael saw his daughter hesitate before following her mother through the door. He waited for a heartbeat, and then Michelle gasped.

  “It’s perfect, mama. I would have loved this, when I was ten—I love it now.”

  There was a muffled sob.

  Caroline, Michael thought.

  “I missed you so much,” his fiancée murmured. “I knew you were mad at me, just as I knew I couldn’t leave. I love you and your papa so much.”

  “I’m sorry, mama. I didn’t know. Papa never told me.”

  And now Chelle, he amended, listening for Caroline’s answer.

  “Your papa never knew,” Caroline said. “He never came this far.”

  “Oh, I thought… I thought… He was gone so long, all night. I thought he went to you. I would ask him if he’d seen you, and he always said yes. I thought he left me behind so he could visit you, every year.”

  Caroline laughed, but it was a sad sound.

  “He saw me every year,” she said, “But he would never come down off that damn hill of his.”

  “I wish I’d known,” Michelle said.

  “You were mad at him, too, huh?”

  “I was mad at you both,” Michelle said, “So mad. I couldn’t understand why.”

  “Neither could your papa,” Caroline said. “I never told him why. I still can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Not until we’re married. Only then will it be safe.”

  “I’m going to have to find you a priest,” Michelle said. “I can’t stand the idea of leaving you behind, again.”

  Caroline laughed, a happier sound this time.

  “Come. We cannot keep your papa waiting. I’m sure he’ll become tired of standing outside the door soon.”

  Michael jumped. How could she know? He’d been quiet enough.

  “I could always sense your presence,” Caroline replied, leaving the room. “I always knew when you were safe and when you were in danger. Those times almost drove me insane.”

  Michael wanted to say something. He opened his mouth to protest, or apologize, or try to explain, but Caroline just smiled a gentle smile and laid a finger to his lips.

  “There is no time,” she said. “You have your secrets, and I have mine. On our wedding night we will share them, but for now I have a dance to prepare, and you must ready your people.”

  Michael was thinking that, as important as their secrets were, he could think of something better to do on his wedding night, but a sudden sense of urgency struck him, and he hurried to the end of the corridor to stare out the empty window. The sound of lightning was carried on the wind, and explosions thundered and roared from the ridge overlooking the town.

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  Michelle came and took his hand, pulling him further into the hotel, toward the stairs.

  “You shouldn’t stand so close to the window,” she scolded. “You know this.”

  “And I must go,” Caroline said. “If I am to have any chance of opening the portal in time, I must go now.”

  “I will come with you,” Michael said.

  “You cannot,” Caroline told him. “I’ve told you more than I should by explaining what I have, but even though you are the highest-ranked representative of your people present, and permitted to know of the portals. I may not reveal the ceremony.

  “Why not?”

  “It is a bridal secret,” Caroline said, “but if you want to save your people, I have to dance from the High Dock to the Low on my own, and you must meet me at the Low Dock with all those you want to preserve.”

  She kissed him lightly on the cheek and fled into the night before he could respond.

  “What did she mean when she said she could not reach me in time?” Michelle asked.

  “It was my fault,” Michael answered. “You were sleeping over at Nela’s house. Your mother hadn’t wanted you to stay home, but I said you’d done nothing wrong and shouldn’t be punished. She couldn’t argue with that, so you went. You weren’t home when the time came to leave. I’m sorry.”

  Michelle grimaced.

  “I remember. At the time, I thought you were the best of fathers, and she was the worst mother in the world. It’s you I should have been mad at, not her!”

  “Don’t be. I’m mad enough at me for the two of us,” Michael said. “Now come, Defender, let’s get the discs up and see if we can bring our people home. We need to clear those raiders off the ridge.”

  As he spoke, rifle fire sounded from just beyond the outskirts of the town. They ran for the stairs. To their surprise, Caroline was still in the hotel. She had opened both crates and laid the remaining discs and sandrunners in two orderly rows. Glancing up as they burst through the door, she stood, dusting her hands against the wedding gown’s tattered folds.

  “I did not want to leave without saying goodbye,” she said.

  Michael just stared at her.

  “Why are you wearing white?” was all he could think to say.

  “Because I love you, and our wedding is long overdue. Besides, tonight is special. I don’t want to wear just anything.”

  “But, what if…”

  Caroline laid a finger on his lips.

  “I know it’s ten-years’ old, and I know it’s no longer white, but it’s the best thing I have, the one thing that reminds me most strongly of you. And it’s enough to remind my father of our pledge before he kills you, when we get to the other side.”

  Michael just stared at her.

  “You surely don’t think you’re the only one to feel mad about me staying behind, are you? Father is going to want answers, and our son…” She stopped, tears glistening in her eyes.

  Another staccato burst of gunfire came to them.

  Caroline laid her hands on Michael’s forearms, and squeezed gently.

  “It will take an hour and the raiders are close. I have to go, now.”

  Michael had no more words. His fear of losing her was a tangible thing, a night-beast waiting to pounce, a raider’s bullet seeking her in the dark, a sand eater’s retaliation. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

  “I’ll wait for you at the Lower Docks,” she said, and before he could protest, she had slipped out of his embrace and hurried to the hotel entrance. To his surprise, she drew back from the door, just before a blaze of light illuminated the threshold. When it was gone, she slipped into the night, leaving Michael staring after her in awe.

  More gunfire had Michael on the hotel porch before he knew what he was doing. He came to his senses and ducked low into the street, relaxing only when he saw the familiar white blur of Caroline’s figure hurrying towards the river.

  “She’s okay,” he said, returning to Michelle.

  His daughter just nodded, her face pale, her eyes showing desolation.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “She didn’t say goodbye,” his daughter whispered. “She just left me again.”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Michael said. “Come here.”

  He hugged his daughter, while she silently wept, releasing her when she gave one final sniff and pushed on his chest.

  “We only have an hour,” she grumbled, but Michael saw her protest for what it was.

  One hour to bring their people to the Lower Docks. One hour to hold the Scorpions. One hour for the fleeing Marks to return to the town and gain safety.

  “I’ll recall them,” he said. “I don’t want to risk leaving them behind.”

  “The Scorpions won’t follow them anyway,” Michelle said. “They haven’t for months. That might buy us more time. If the Marks head for the town, maybe the Scorpions will look toward the Rim, or swing for the river.”

  She had a point.

  “Let’s see what the discs are doing.”

  They checked the discs leading the villagers. Both were intact, the lead disc keeping to a pace the caravan could follow, the back-up disc flying high and dark, tracking the enemy and the progress of the caravan below. Michael widened its scan and stayed tapped in. He’d be able to keep an eye on the villagers’ progress, while he checked in with the discs harrying the Scorpions engaging the Marks.

  Two of the attack discs were down, but Sun’s Mark had almost broken free. Michael felt a sense of grim satisfaction at the sight of the Scorpion bodies littering the sands mined by the runners. He found Simeon heading south.

  “Turn to the town,” he ordered. “You know they don’t follow us anymore.”

  He felt Simeon’s acknowledgement, heard the order being issued.

  “Hurry. You have three-quarters of the hour before the evacuation begins.”

  “I have the Lions,” Simeon replied. “I will bring them, too.”

  “Good work.”

  The battle must have been very close indeed, if the Sun’s Mark had been driven close enough to the Lions to amalgamate. Michael wished the wind would answer so he could see their position. Instead, he lifted one of the discs at his feet, activating it with his fingers, and accepting the sharp click of contact, when it extended a thin metal tube to the junction point in his temple.

  He ordered it to fly high and dark, scanning the fleeing Marks and their surroundings. He ordered it to overfly the ridge and outskirts of town on its way out so he could see what the raiders were doing there. When it had downloaded his instructions, he released it through the office window.

  Michelle was waiting for his orders when he was done. Hearing more gunfire from the ridge, and seeing muzzle flashes in the scan from the disc overflying the villagers, Michael touched his daughter’s mind and sent her the battle plans for the discs at their fleet.

  Her eyes widened, but Michael saw her turn inward, running the alternatives and finding nothing better. At last, she nodded and activated the first disc. Seeing the machine dock with the junction point in Michelle’s skull, Michael turned to the first of the sandrunners. He could program them to mine the ridge and the outskirts of the town. With a timer to delay them until just after the villagers had passed, the runners would lay their mines in time to halt the Scorpions’ advance.

  If the villagers were delayed… Michael shuddered, hesitated, added a kill code to recall the runners for fresh orders. He hoped he wouldn’t regret it. Tapping into the disk overflying the villagers, Michael saw the Hawk Mark outriders approaching the ridge. He tapped the disc he’d sent to monitor what was left of the Sun and Lion Marks and saw a ragged line of men staggering towards the uppermost section of town.

  Simeon answered the moment he linked in.

  “Defender?”

  “Is the river still dry?”

  “Yes, Defender.”

  “Follow the riverbed to the Lower Dock. Caroline will meet you there.”

  “The caravan?” Exhaustion crept along the edges of Simeon’s contact.

  “Chelle and I have them covered. We will meet you at the Lower Docks.”

  Michael linked out before the Mark commander could protest. It was up to Simeon to bring what was left of the Lion and the Sun Marks home. He looked across at his daughter as a rattle of gunfire signaled the Hawk Mark’s first contact with the raiders.

  “Ready?”

  She waited until the last disc had disengaged from her head, and nodded.

  “Then set them loose.”

  Michelle pulled back the window blinds and slid the glass panel aside. With a blink of her eyes, she gave the order and the last twelve discs rose from the floor. Small, but powerful, propulsion systems kicked in and they zipped out into the night. Michelle scooped her rifle from where it rested against the wall and followed her father out into the night.

  Michael linked to the headman.

  “Head straight into town. Order Hawk Mark not to engage or deviate from a direct run to the town. Any who do will die. The discs can’t differentiate.”

  “You can’t…”

  “Headman, I already have.”

  Michael cut the link, cutting off the headman’s angry response. He re-linked with one more instruction.

  “Chelle and I will meet you on the edge of town.”

  “Defender, people are going to die.”

  “I am sorry. It cannot be undone.”

  He led his daughter through the town, using the ruins to cover their approach to the edge of the scree. Using short hand movements and a rapid uplink to signal her to take position, he tried to reach the Hawk’s Mark commander. Above them the discs hovered, temporarily leashed until Chelle gave the final order.

  “Head straight into town. Chelle and I will cover you. When you reach our positions, you can cover the caravan.”

  “But—”

  “Run! Commander!”

  Michael repeated the command, reinforcing it with a mental image of the route to his position, and slamming the battle plan into the man’s mind as hard as he dared.

  “Run!”

  He broke away from the Hawk commander, and touched Michelle’s mind.

  “Go!”

  She unleashed the discs and settled into cover, scanning the ridge for her first target. Michael activated the last of his powers. It was short range, but allowed him to scan all the allies inside a thirty-foot radius, mapping them across a grid of known terrain if one was available. All else was shadow.

  Chelle had taken up a position similar to his own—in a second-floor room overlooking the steep slope which provided the only viable access into one of the town’s main streets. Mimicking her action, Michael settled to scan the slope for a target of his own. Above them, the discs began to strafe any living thing not moving towards the route into town.

  Just beyond the crown of the ridge, a five-man team of raiders avoided the first deadly overflight by racing towards the scree slope. Michael took down the first two, but Michelle’s reflexes were faster and she finished the other three. The next team of raiders missed the initial strafing run, only to be caught by the second as they set an ambush just under the ridge’s skyline.

  Eight of the Hawk Mark fell to their Defender’s plans. They refused the orders to break from combat, or embark on a fighting retreat. Two continued pursuing raiders into the desert, three chose to stand and hold against a greater force instead of falling back before it, and three others stood still to shepherd the convoy forward instead of moving with it.

  The discs struck with precision and a deadliness that did not discriminate. Any who stopped to watch them became victims. All who did not move toward town died within seconds. Twelve villagers lost their lives before the message got through.

  Move toward town if you want to live.

  Michael could not have chosen a more effective way of getting them to obey.

  As he and Michelle waited for the villagers to reach them, they took out any raiders trying to get ahead of the caravan. The villagers weren’t the only ones to get the message. More than a few of the surviving Scorpions also saw and understood the discs’ pattern of death. They fled toward the town. Real bullets were more deterrent to them than the rumors of some crazy woman’s ghost.

  At the sight of the first Hawk’s-Mark’s men crossing the ridge, and half-sliding, half-running down the scree, Michael jerked his barrel up. The bullet he was about to fire fled in a wild arc into the sky. A second round went wild as Michelle mirrored his action. Michael signaled the Hawk’s men in, but instead of ordering them to take defensive positions along the town’s edge, he gathered them before him.

  “You need to secure the Lower Docks,” he said, “and make sure the road is clear.”

  The Hawk commander stepped forward, rifle slung, fist cocked. Michael straightened, faced him down.

  “There is no time.”