My radio on the console squawked. I’d left the door open.

  I sat inside and shut the door. Qiang was calling,

  “Bayard,” she said, “five Fightinghawks are headed our way.”

  “What,” I said, “Fightinghawks?” She meant McDonnell Douglas A-4AR Fightinghawks. They were upgraded A-4 Skyhawks. “The A-4ARs are more dangerous by far,” I said.

  “What do you think?” Qiang asked, “Are they going to make an attack run at us?”

  “Why would they bother?”

  “I received a disturbing message not so long ago,” Qiang said. “This flight might have something to do with that.”

  “Oh,” I said into the radio, “and you didn’t think to tell any of us about this disturbing message?”

  “I decided it was on a need-to-know basis,” Qiang said sternly.

  “How about telling me now?”

  Qiang didn’t respond.

  I opened the door and looked into the freezing air. Far away, I spied five distant dots. They grew perceptibly larger even as I watched.

  “They’re definitely armed,” Qiang said from the radio. “According to my readings, they’ve activated their weapons systems.”

  I spat an unsavory expletive and tore out of the Bv-206. Crunching across the snow, I hurried to tell Livi.

  She was already up, climbing out of her cab. She was beautiful with dark hair poking out of her hood and with lustrous eyes. Her bulky garments hid her perfect figure and slender legs. With both hands, Livi pitched me a heavy anti-aircraft tube. I’d left mine in the cab.

  “What’s going on, Bayard?” Livi asked in her sweet voice. “Are those attack craft?”

  “Did you listen in on what Qiang was telling me?” Mist puffed from my mouth as I spoke.

  “I did,” Livi said, shaking her head. “Why would they be coming after us?”

  I readied the tube, shouldering it, aiming at the distant, at the enlarged dots. Even as I did, I realized this wasn’t going to be good enough. The tube was for auxiliary craft coming at us, not military-grade weapons platforms like Fightinghawks. I lowered and handed the anti-air tube back to Livi. Then I raced once more across the snow and ice back to my cab.

  Last journey, I’d seen a Homo habilis named Philip in action. He’d been a hundred-pound, five-foot hominid that was supposed to have gone extinct 1.65 million years ago. Homo habilises lived now, and as far as we knew, they were all clones of the Originals. They ran the Institute as I’ve said, and called themselves the First Folk.

  I opened the door yet again—all the warm air must have departed by now—reached in and extracted a special kit, unzipping it.

  From it, I took out a pair of unique glasses, putting them on. I then picked up a phasor, an alien pistol and potent weapon. I’d seen Philip use one and had practiced several times on my own when no one had been watching.

  Now, I looked up into the sky as I activated the special glasses. I zeroed in on the Fightinghawks, using extreme magnification. The bubble canopies on the jets leapt into view. I could see the pilots underneath the canopies adjusting their controls.

  I tapped the edge of the glasses again, running targeting data on the inner lenses.

  The Fightinghawks were armed and spreading out. A red symbol in the lenses told me they were making an attack run.

  Would they just try to scare us? I couldn’t risk that. We were up here on the ice shelf on the Leverett Glacier. Help would be a long way and long time coming.

  Taking off a glove and using my thumb, I activated the phasor.

  As the five jets headed straight for us—

  “They’re launching,” Livi cried.

  Several missiles zoomed from underneath the wings, heading fast at us. They were trying to kill us then.

  I raised the phasor and targeted the first Fightinghawk, pressing the firing stud. A beam of energy lanced the distance, drilling into the pilot’s cockpit, killing him and destroying the jet in a spectacular explosion.

  Despite myself, I grinned.

  This was a nifty and hyper-powerful weapon. There was a phasor rifle down in the Indian Ocean, but that was a different story, one I’ve already told.

  I targeted the next Fightinghawk and destroyed it as well, and then the third.

  The last two veered off, using afterburners to get the hell out of here.

  A flock of small anti-air grenades rose from our Bv-206s to engage the missiles coming at us.

  I targeted one missile, burned it, targeted the second—

  Someone tackled me from behind, throwing me face first into the snow.

  Almost instantly, three powerful explosions shook the ground. Bv-206s blasted into the sky. Men and women began to scream.

  I twisted in the snow and saw Livi staring at me as she clutched my legs. She’d knocked me down, perhaps saving my life as shrapnel had shredded everywhere.

  I scrambled up, picked up my phasor and tucked it away in my parka. I put the special glasses away as well.

  Several Bv-206s burned furiously, or what was left of them. There was far too much blood on the snow. The screams of the badly injured—I’ve always hated that about combat.

  The Fightinghawks had attacked and killed, scratching, it looked like, four of our vehicles and maybe a dozen people. The other two jets—

  I scanned the sky but couldn’t see any sign of them. They’d fled like crazy.

  “Why did they do this?” Livi asked.

  I shook my head. After taking care of the wounded, it would be time to talk to Qiang.

  -2-

  We took care of the wounded, patching them up the best we could, taking them to the medical 206s. We made the wounded as comfortable as possible and then took off.

  Soon, we circled again in a giant wagon train, setting up in clean terrain. Instead of Indians, we had to deal with aerial assaults from the Argentine Air Force. Would the Chilean Air Force strike at us, too? What about the Americans? The Russians? Why not just send a missile to wipe us out, if that was the idea?

  This was the thing in dealing with these situations: trying to figure out if this was international politics or a Krekelen power play. Even more than a nation’s spy service, the Krekelens and Terrans fought a secret war against each other.

  As I’d said before, there were a hundred and eight of us. Well, not as many now, and a few badly injured. The point was the few we had were vitally important. The plan to establish an impenetrable secret base—the most important in the world, as far as Traveling to the former Harmony of Planets—was even more critical than our paltry numbers.

  We set up wagon-train strong points, unlimbering heavier weapons: a missile defense system in case there was another airstrike or someone did launch big missiles at us.

  I tried to get Livi to stay back, as Qiang hated her. Livi wouldn’t have it, though.

  “This involved me,” Livi said. “I want to hear what Qiang is attempting now.”

  I nodded, as that made sense. Livi was stuck on an alien planet as far as she was concerned. Livi and I could have already made it to deep Antarctica many months ago, but I’d convinced her to stay for the reasons I’d stated earlier. That meant she could have been home in the Vega System by now. I felt responsible for her.

  With Livi beside me, we trudged through the snow, heading toward Qiang’s vehicles. The Director had the most, of course, and had the largest security contingent.

  As we headed for Qiang’s 206, five parka-bulky security men cradling heavy machine guns trudged around into view. They watched me closely, with their fingers on the triggers. None of them had pointed a machine gun at me yet. Nevertheless, I knew this was real trouble, not just Qiang being cranky.

  Director Qiang didn’t like me as I’d said. Still, I thought we were allies in this with a similar goal for the good of the group.

  I squared my shoulders and put swagger into my trudge.

  I would’ve liked to take each security man on one on one. They could even line up and charge after I clobbered his buddy. As I said, I was big, strong and combat savvy, be it fist, knife, gun, whatever. I’d been a U.S. Marine and knew my way around with the likes of them.

  But that wasn’t the situation today—I kept telling myself that, anyway. We were dealing with Argentine jet jockeys and the reason for the strike.

  As I approached, Qiang exited her 206. She waddled as much as walked and stepped in front of her security detail. Dressed as she was in parka and scarf, she looked as much like an Eskimo, or an Inuit, as a Chinese lady.

  Qiang wasn’t big. She was more middle sized, maybe ten pounds overweight and in her fifties, Chinese as I’d said. She wasn’t a hag in the looks department and she wasn’t beautiful either. Maybe that was her problem. Maybe men had never treated Qiang right because she wasn’t a beauty and she didn’t have much of a personality. She did have brains, though. And her daughter, Mei—

  I felt a moment of weakness thinking again of Mei, how I’d caused her death. She’d helped me escape from her mother’s vile clutches in a mountain stronghold in Switzerland. Qiang had imprisoned me and tried to strip me of my dignity through drugged interrogation. But Mei had been better than that, freeing me from captivity.

  God bless her soul.

  “Qiang,” I said, “what do you think the situation is? Why did the jets make an assault on us?”

  Qiang’s eyes shifted to take in Livi. “Why is she here?”

  “Because she has a vested interest in this,” I said. “She’s a party of one, a valued ally in case you’ve forgotten.”

  Qiang’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t like that kind of talk, particularly coming from me.

  “We have trouble,” Qiang said.

  “That was what you said before,” I replied. “Now, what’s the big problem? What has happened in the real world to affect us here?”

  “I have just received new data,” Qiang said.

  “While we moved the caravan?” I asked.

  “That is correct.”

  “Okay. What is it already?”

  Qiang hesitated before saying, “It is believed Colonel McPherson caused the incident.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “McPherson sent the Argentine jets at us?”

  “Don’t be a dolt, Bayard. McPherson caused an incident. The aftereffects of it resulted in the jets attacking us.”

  I didn’t like being called a dolt, but let it slide—for now. “McPherson is supposed to be taking some R&R.”

  “Yes,” Qiang said, “that is what she was supposed to do, but she did not do that.”

  “We’re on pins and needles here.”

  Qiang nodded sharply and began to describe a Poseidon missile, not a missile, a torpedo, a Russian torpedo. It was a devastating weapon, and it had taken out the Krekelen underwater base in the Persian Gulf.

  As Qiang described that, I closed my eyes painfully. Okay, this was making sense. I never should have agreed to McPherson’s staying behind with Rull while Philip and I left for a journey to the Chaunt System. That had been a desperate mistake on my part. Those Krekelen bastards, those shape-shifting reptilian creeps couldn’t keep their word. They’d told me they wouldn’t do anything to McPherson while I was gone. They’d lied and used their psi-masters on her. When that hadn’t immediately worked, they’d tried to take me out on my return in the floater I’d brought from the Chaunt System.

  “I get it,” I said.

  “I do not think you do get it,” Qiang said. “The nuclear explosion is much more devastating than just the world howling in rage and the Russians desperately backpedaling and trying to say they had nothing to do with it. Obviously, the Belgorod launched a Poseidon. The reason doesn’t matter to the rest of the world. They want blood now and security later. Worse, the Krekelens have been able to maneuver secretly in the corridors of power more thoroughly than ever because we—” Qiang indicated the circled caravan. “Because we have foolishly deserted our posts to follow you on this harebrained scheme.”

  I almost retorted by saying it had been Livi’s idea, not mine. But I wasn’t going to throw Livi under the bus like that.

  “It’s still a good idea to secure the secret base,” I said.

  “No,” Qiang said, “you do not understand. The Krekelens are marshalling the rest of the world under their direction. The nuclear assault in the Persian Gulf has badly affected oil supplies and caused mass fallout. Thousands of buildings in Iran, Iraq, Kuwait, and Saudi Arabia and elsewhere are ruined. This is a vast ecological disaster, and it’s shifting the balance of world power. Oil supplies are few so crude oil prices have skyrocketed. There is unrest everywhere, all because of one torpedo, one nuclear blast in exactly the wrong spot.”

  “Wait a minute. You said the Poseidon took out the Krekelen base down there.”

  “What’s wrong with you, Bayard? Have you not been listening? Are you too dense and too stupid to understand what I have just said?”

  “Hold on now. There’s no need to get insulting. I heard you just fine. My point is Krekelens must have been down in the base, right? Those Krekelens are dead now, right?”

  Qiang stared at me, not answering.

  “Look,” I said, “those Krekelens are most certainly dead. That means we wiped out a score of them. That means however many we are here, maybe that many Krekelens were wiped out down there. I doubt the Krekelens have high numbers. That means they’re short-handed, maybe even worse than we are in the corridors of power.”

  Again, Qiang stared at me, saying nothing. I had a feeling that meant she knew I was right. That hardened my resolve.

  “So let’s hold on to our britches here,” I said. “We’ve taken out, or McPherson did, anyway—the colonel took out a bunch of Krekelens. That’s good. I call that a win.”

  “You fool. You white-skinned devil,” Qiang hissed. “Do you not understand? The world is in an uproar, and the Krekelens, the masters of manipulation are uniting them. Surely, Krekelen-manipulated world leaders are marking us out here in this spot as dangerous terrorists. They surely believe that we’re part of McPherson’s cabal. Surely even the Russians are helping them to uncover McPherson’s real identity. That will lead back to us, the Terrans. Do you not understand? You idiot,” Qiang added. “This means the Krekelens are trying to take us out, our entire group. When they do, the Krekelens shall take over completely. Earth will become their plaything, their toy. They will dominate as they’ve attempted to dominate for millennia. Bayard, you’re an idiot and a fool. Why did you do what you did to McPherson?”

  “Now hold on just a minute,” I said, taking a step forward, starting to feel my anger. “A white devil? You’re calling me a white devil?”

  The five security men stepped up, passing Qiang, aiming their machine guns at me.

  I considered taking a step back as the psychic force of their combined will struck mine. Instead, my anger hardened. I put my hand into my parka pocket and wrapped it around the phasor there.

  “I would not do that if I were you,” Qiang said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re thinking about pulling out a weapon.” Qiang gave me a nasty grin. “For the security of us all, I’m going to hold you prisoner until I decide what to do next.”

  “I don’t think you are,” Livi said from behind me.

  I glanced back.

  Livi was using my big brawny body as a shield, though I don’t know how that would help her against the machine guns. The bullets would pass right through me. She was showing them an exotic looking pistol, pointing it from around me.

  “You, Qiang,” Livi said, “will be the first to die if your men shoot Bayard. Are you willing to die, Qiang?”

  Qiang said nothing, though the hatred in her eyes burned fiercely.

  This was a standoff. I don’t know if it was the quintessential Mexican standoff I’d watched in the Westerns of my childhood, but it certainly was a standoff.

  “Hey,” I said, keeping my hand on the hidden phasor in my parka pocket.

  I, too, had aimed it straight at Qiang. I didn’t care to die, but if I was going to die, I was going to take as many of these bullyboys and her with me, Mei or no Mei. Yes, I owed Qiang, but she owed me a little something too for having cured her, healed her, taken the Zero Stone from her vicinity so she could come to her senses.

  “Let’s be reasonable,” I said in a calm voice. “We’re close to our objective. We’ve been on the ice for thirty days already. We’re maybe ten days or less from the base.”

  “You fool,” Qiang said. “Do you understand nothing? They’re watching us. They have satellites on us, no doubt. They could send missiles at any time to wipe us out. No, we must negotiate with them.”

  “Negotiate with whom?”

  “The Krekelens, if need be,” Qiang said.

  “What do the Krekelens want?”

  Qiang didn’t answer but her stare and imperceptible smile—it was hardly there but a moment. It told me the Krekelens wanted good old Jake Bayard, me.

  Okay, so now I knew the situation was much worse than I’d realized. I considered it carefully. A nuke had gone off in the middle of the Persian Gulf. It had probably created…

  I closed my eyes as if in pain, and then opened them quickly. No one had moved.

  I was sure the news agencies of the world had and would use this for their authoritarian masters. Never let a disaster go to waste. The way things had been going lately…

  I nodded. “I’m hearing you, Qiang. Compromise is probably the best solution. Look, you want to go back, you go back. But I don’t want the Krekelens to hold me prisoner, not for all the tea in China.”

  Qiang frowned.

  I grinned. “To make me a prisoner here this moment, you have to die. You want to die, Qiang?”

  She didn’t answer. Her bullyboys looked worried.

  “Okay,” I said. “So let’s work together the best we can. Let’s grab the secret facility while we’re here.”

  “And if we cannot reach it for the reasons I’ve already stated?” Qiang asked.

  “We can reach it.”

  “Consider this logically, Bayard. There is no cover of darkness to use. There is no special transportation waiting. It is time to admit defeat in this venture. We must call our assets and leave Antarctica as fast as possible. It’s either that or we make a deal with the Krekelens.”