Alec took the steps two at a time, but very slowly, crouching low and keeping the gun ready for any surprises. With all the stealth he could manage he got to the top of the stairs and moved to the door of the bedroom from which Douglas’ voice was coming.

He checked the other rooms with his eyes. The doors were all open; they appeared empty. Then, after pulling in a deep breath and letting it go, he opened the bedroom door and leaped into the room.

The door banged against the wall as Alec landed on the balls of his feet, crouched, balanced, gun rock-steady in his outstretched hand.

Half the room was filled with radio gear, gray and black boxes jumbled together, dials glowing. A wild tangle of wires linked the seeming chaos to a thick cable that wormed its way out through the window that was jammed shut over it.

Douglas sat in the bed, an old-fashioned microphone in one huge fist. His left leg was poking out straight from the hip, encased in a white plastic cast. His trousers had been cut away at the hip. His face looked thinner than before, his hair and beard grayer. His clothes and the bedsheets were rumpled and sweaty-looking. A carbine lay on the bed beside him, with several boxes of ammunition stacked on the table next to the bed.

For an instant Alec crouched there, unmoving.

Then Douglas said, “Well, it’s about time you got here. What kept you?”

Chapter 28

Alec blinked at his father. “What happened to your leg?”

Glowering, Douglas grumbled, “Thrown from a goddamned horse, would you believe it? Four days ago. Have to sit out the whole goddamned battle here and try to run things by radio.” He tossed the microphone down on the bed. It bounced and clattered to the floor.

“You could save a lot of lives by telling...”

“I’ve already ordered my people to stop fighting,” Douglas said. He looked weary, even though his voice was as strong in defeat as ever. “That’s what I was doing while you were trying to sneak up the stairs. And you can put that popgun away, I’m not going to try to shoot you.” Glancing at the carbine beside him, “This thing isn’t even loaded.”

Alec went to the bed and took the gun. He leaned it against the doorjamb, then holstered his pistol.

“You fought a smart fight,” Douglas said grudgingly. “I didn’t expect you to spread out that way.”

Pulling up the room’s only chair, Alec responded, “I didn’t expect you to have tanks.”

“Think I showed you everything?” Douglas laughed.

“Where is she?”

“Angela? I packed her off to one of the villages a week ago, with the rest of the women. They’re all scattered around the valley. She’ll be back, now that the fighting’s over.”

“And Will?”

Douglas shook his head. “Last I heard, his horse had been shot out from under him. Don’t worry about Will, he leads a charmed life.”

Suddenly there was nothing left to talk about. Everything to be said, but nothing to talk about.

Douglas broke the silence. “So you’ve won.”

“Yes, I’ve won.”

“What are your plans?”

Alec glanced out the window, then returned his gaze to his father’s haggard face. “I came for the fissionables. I’ll take them back to the settlement.”

“You know where they’re stored?”

“You showed me, remember?”

“Oh... oh yes, that’s right. I...”

“Kobol’s got a trained crew to take care of them.”

“Kobol. H’mm.”

Alec blurted, “They’ll want to execute you. You’re a traitor.”

“It figures,” Douglas said easily. “If it weren’t for this damned leg, though, I wouldn’t have been so easy to catch.”

“He’s going to marry mother.” As the words came out of him, Alec realized it was true. He had known it all along, but had never allowed the knowledge to reach conscious realization.

“Kobol? Good! Serves him right. She’ll have him sliced and neatly served on a platter inside of a year. They deserve each other.”

Alec felt his insides tightening.

“Now don’t go stupid on me, son,” Douglas said. “Kobol’s been after her since I was there. And she’s been letting him chase her. It’s one of the reasons why I left. It became obvious, even to me.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

Grinning wickedly, Douglas answered, “I don’t give a damn what you believe. I’ve accomplished what I set out to do. My work’s just about finished now. Yours is just starting.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Before Douglas could reply, a trio of trucks pulled up noisily in front of the house and the voices of two dozen men filled the air. Doors slammed. Boots clumped on stairs.

Jameson stepped into the bedroom, poking the muzzle of an automatic rifle ahead of him. “You okay?” he asked Alec.

Nodding, Alec got up from the chair. “This is Douglas Morgan,” he said. “Keep this house guarded. No one goes in or out unless I personally grant permission. I’ll set up my headquarters in the first house on this street, where my truck is parked.”

“Right,” Jameson said.

Douglas spoke up. “I presume the condemned man will get a meal sometime this evening?”

Alec could not look him in the face anymore. To Jameson he said, “See to it.”

Then he left his father sitting on the bed, surrounded by the armed strangers.

Alec ate his dinner alone in Angela’s house, the first hot meal he’d had in many days. He was almost finished when Kobol burst into the tiny kitchen.