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then. Within seconds there was another and then a roar of shock as the
garrison exploded, shards of wood flying high into the air on a roiling black
cloud. They'd blown the powder depot! With it went one side of the wall. Zeth
could barely zlin through the shrieking Gen pain as men were torn to pieces or
burned. Instantly, every Sime past turnover was shocked tointil, and the
high-field Gen soldiers were plucked up and killed on every side.
Soldiers came billowing out of the fort, on horseback and on foot, their only
chance now to attack swiftly and powerfully. At close range, their shots
connected, and the hospital was suddenly busier than Zeth had yet seen. He
worked, not allowing himself to think or he would sink into total despair. The
kill raged around and through him, his heritage,his destiny. There was no way
out. Owen was gone.
He workednumbly, glad now for the selyn the Mountain Chapel Gens had donated.
He could heal a few more before he killed. Maddok, praying as he worked, was a
rock Zeth could lean on provided he didn't lean too hard.
Simultaneously, Zeth became aware of two facts. The first
wasthe fighting arrowing steadily toward the hospital. Bron said, "Dear God!
They think the banner marks the command post!"
At the same time, a familiar nager approached from another direction,
flickering as it moved between the rocky outcroppings.Owen!
Maddok started for the banner obviously to tear it down. Zeth grabbed him.
"No! Owen has to see it to find me!"
Bron stared at him as if Zeth had gone out of his head. "Owen's not here,
Zeth but I am "
"No he's coming. There!" He pointed to where Owen's bright hair could be seen
shining in the sun as he dashed between two rocks, making his way down to the
plateau. "And," added Zeth, "allthe Gens have to be able to see where the
channels are!
A few soldiers were driving directly toward the pennant. Zeth grabbed the
ambient fields and sent up a shattering call for help. Nearby Simes fought
loose and converged on the station to protect the channels. Mrs. Young,
Hapen's mother, grasped one of the Gen soldiers who had made it almost to
Zeth's feet, and killed. Zeth knew that he himself was poised to kill right
now that hewould kill, without compunction, to save himself, or Owen, or
anyone he loved.
As Owen's nager continued to work toward him, zigzagging to avoid the
fighting, Zeth pulled his concentration down to healing one of the Mountain
Chapel Gens. He had to let his own need pour through his nerves to get the Gen
cells to produce more selyn, to healthemselves . He tried not to be aware of
the long time Owen was taking, not to notice when the distant Gen's attention
flicked to some battle scene before him. Slowly, the bleeding under his hands
stopped. He gave Jimmy Norton a grim smile. "Bandage it," he instructed, and
started to turn to the next patient when he saw and zlinned Owen, not a
hundred paces away, caught on the opposite side of a mass of fighting.
Owen was watching Eph Norton and two burly soldiers. The soldiers closed on
Norton, bayonets jabbing. Owen threw himself into the fight, knocking one of
the Gens down while Norton rammed the butt of his gun into the other's jaw.
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Zeth hardly felt the pain amid the scrambled ambient nager, and only realized
he himself was in motion when Jimmy zipped past him at the highest level of
augmentation.
The first soldier was on his feet again, slashing with his
swordwhile Norton parried with the clumsier gun. Jimmy leaped to his father's
defense, flinging the sword from the soldier's hand with one blow to his
wrist, and then even as the man was screaming in pain, grasped him in
killmode. On a wave of augmentation, Zeth leaped on Jimmy, hauling him back
with all his strength, shenning him out of the attack in pain that put Zeth
helplessly into killmode himself.
Jimmy fellunconscious, and Zeth groped toward Owen just as another soldier
charged Zeth with his bayonet. Augmenting again, Zeth grasped the gun barrel,
intending to fling it away but he had forgotten the relative weights of Sime
and Gen. The man stood rock solid until Zeth got his grip, and then he flung
Zeth's lighter body right up into the air and toward another man waiting with
a sword to spit him!
Zeth twisted in midair to land on his feet but as the soldier slashed at him
he automatically grasped the man's right wrist with his left hand, twisting
until he dropped the weapon. The soldier sought to throw a punch with his left
hand, and Zeth grabbed that as well and was holding the soldier in kill
position while he flared horror.
Owen ran toward Zeth, trying to leap between them, but another soldier caught
him in the stomach with his gun butt. It reached Zeth as the most exquisite
flash of pain he had ever experienced. He was in killmode, the face before him
already forming the rictus of fear as he reached for lip contact.
Owen, unable to move or even breathe, snatched his hunting knife from his
boot and flung it straight into the back of the man
Zeth held. The Gen died in Zeth's arms before he could kill the nager going
flat and tasteless though still
replete with selyn. ,
In a rage of denied killbliss, Zeth turned as another Gen field, high, warm,
welcoming, closed on him. Pure predator, Zeth grasped and drew. He sought to
slake his wakened yearning in true killbliss. But this Gen was giving giving
He speeded his draw, already close to depleting the Gen field. He could still
kill drain burn Fierce joy spread through him as the Gen felt pain, then fear,
and began to struggle.
Something in Zeth shifted. The searing need for Gen pain was gone. Though
need was still there, he was filled with the joy of release.
Something slammed him duoconscious. The Gen fell away from his loosened
grasp. In agonized protest, his dual system went into spasm. And then
blackness closed over him.
Zeth came to, struggling to breathe, Owen's full weight crushing him. He was
on his back on the battlefield, his hands pinned between their two bodies,
against Owen's bare chest this time Owen hadn't waited for help to give
transfer when Zeth was unconscious. He'd torn open his shirt to let Zeth's
laterals find contact. Somehow, it had worked; after the last trickle of
termination, Owen lifted his head, smiling in relief to find Zeth looking at
him. He climbed to his knees, his field ringing with triumph at overcoming his
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handicap. Zeth breathed deeply and managed, "Thanks."
The battle was skirling away from them now. Zeth knew he had tried to kill,
but couldn't remember clearly why he hadn't. He sat up, ignoring the bruised
feeling through his system. Del was bending over Maddok, who was unconscious
and very pale. The other channel looked up at once. "He'll live, Zeth. It's
just a burn. I zlinned the whole thing, but I couldn't reach you. You shenned
yourself, thank God."
' 'No Owen ''
"It wasn't me. You dropped Maddok before I could touch you. Then you started
convulsing like Rimon used to just about scared me to Anyway, you're both all
right."
"Zeth?"The voice was querulous, plaintive. Jimmy Norton. Zeth shoved himself
to his feet. Jimmy was clinging to his father for support but there was no
nageric link between them. It was Zeth Jimmy was reaching toward and Zeth held
out his arms to him, feeling in his nager the sweet, clean ease of tension
that meant disjunction. The transfer wiped out Zeth's pain as totally as it
did Jimmy's need and afterward he hugged the boy, saying, "It's over, Jimmy.
You made it. No more need to kill."
Eph Norton, his field glowing with joy and gratitude, took his son from
Zeth's arms. "He insisted it had to be you, Zeth. You did it you made Jimmy my
son again!"
But Jimmy Norton was not the only Sime who needed a transfer. As the battle
wound down, the channels were faced with lines of people determined not to
succumb to the kill in the weakness of relief. Owen tugged at Zeth. "Jana
needs you hurry!"
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