Cobra Gamble by Timothy Zahn Page B

to let you escape. Its purpose is to prevent your escape."
    Merrick blinked. "What?"
    "Consider," Fadil continued. "Where will you be when the explosion takes place? Somewhere under protection several meters away at the least. How long after the explosion will it take the debris to cease falling and for you to make your way across the rubble and out into the forest?"
    Merrick felt his stomach tighten. Now, of course, it was obvious. Painfully obvious. "He has no intention of letting me hop on any grav-lift cycle and get out of here, does he?" he said, hearing the dark edge in his voice. "He just wants me to draw the Trofts' attention to that part of the wall so that he can tear out of here like a bat out of hell and try to draw them away."
    "So I would read the plan," Fadil said. "Your father, Merrick Moreau, honors himself and you."
    "He is indeed an honorable man," Merrick said, taking a step back toward the door. "Thank you, Fadil Sammon, for your insights. I'll take my leave of you now."
    "What will you do?" Fadil asked.
    "What I have to," Merrick told him. "If I don't return, please accept my gratitude for all that you, the Sammon family, and the village of Milika have done for me."
    "I trust you remember that your body is still not at full capability and function," Krites warned. "Especially considering the internal injuries you reopened in the forest two days ago. If you start bleeding internally again, you could die."
    "I'll remember," Merrick assured him. "Thank you, too. Doctor Krites, for your assistance and care." He took a deep breath. "Farewell, Fadil Sammon."
    "Farewell, Merrick Moreau," Fadil replied gravely. "May God go with you."
    * * *
    Paul had said he would be waiting by the wall with the grav-lift cycle in an hour. Merrick's nanocomputer clock circuit showed ten minutes to that deadline as he joined the other guards walking the Milika wall and headed casually toward his chosen gap in the metal mesh.
    He tried to watch everywhere at once as he walked, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. There had been no way to physically rehearse what was about to happen, but he'd run the whole operation over and over in his mind as best he could, throwing in all the variants, possible problems, and potential obstacles that he could come up with.
    Time now to find out how closely his imagination and planning matched reality.
    The clock showed two minutes left as he approached his planned drop zone. A casual glance over the side of the wall showed that his father was already in position, seated on an unexpectedly large and intimidating grav-lift cycle about ten meters from where the explosion was supposed to happen, and about three from the gap Merrick was heading for.
    The clock had just passed one minute to zero when Merrick reached the gap. Without breaking stride, he half turned and dropped himself through it. He landed with a crunch of broken bushes, a controlled bending of knees to absorb the impact, and a look of startled consternation on his father's face. "Merrick?" Paul breathed. "You were supposed to—"
    "Hi, Dad," Merrick said. "Nice try."
    And with a flick of a target lock and a pair of bursts from his fingertip lasers, he neatly cut the wires leading to both of the cycle's left-hand stabilizer sensors. "Merrick—no!" Paul snapped.
    But he was too late. The big machine lurched beneath him, its left side canting twenty degrees downward as the grav lifts on that side lost the sensors' feedback.
    And as Paul scrambled for a grip on his now badly angled mount, Merrick heard the sounds of the warship's gravs as they revved to full power. "It's okay. Dad—I've got it covered," he said. He took a step toward the forest, then hesitated. "If this doesn't work, say good-bye to Mom and Lorne and Jody for me, will you?"
    "I will," Paul said. There was a deep sadness in his voice, and Merrick could hear the almost-echo of words still unformed, words that were still only thoughts and emotions deep within his