80

Talina slipped out of sight behind the concrete foundation of one of the solar collectors as the Unreconciled hurried past, some on the verge of running. As they slopped their way through the mud, they kept looking fearfully over their shoulders, as if the furies of hell were going to be in hot pursuit.

Talina leaned her head back, considered.

Well, well, call it a spur-of-the-moment Reformation.

As the last of the women, almost stumbling from fatigue, trudged past with two children in slings on her shoulders, Talina stepped out. Walking carefully, she took in the poncho-clad man as he peeled back his hood. Dark hair. Yep, the shooter.

Before him stood a woman, a frail-looking thing. Hair black with rain, her thin, scarred face, pale. The woman’s hands were twitching; either her jaw was spastic, or she was shivering so hard her teeth where chattering.

She caught sight of Talina, and terror glittered in her dark eyes. She gave a slight nod to the man; he turned, bringing his weapon up.

He froze at the sight of Talina’s rifle, fixed as it was on his chest. The man instantly understood. The merest pressure on the trigger would blow him away.

“Put it down slowly,” she told him. “I’m not in a forgiving mood, so don’t fuck with me.”

He swallowed hard, eased the rifle down to the damp ground.

“Now, back away. Both of you.”

They did, the woman wavering, as if struggling for balance.

“You’re Talina Perez,” the man said.

“The same. You?”

“Vartan Omanian. I was . . . Well, I guess that doesn’t matter anymore.” He smiled wearily. “Go ahead. Shoot. But I’d ask that you take care of Shimal, here. She’s got the prion. Nothing’s her fault. Same with the women and kids.”

“The prion? So you understand it?”

“Shyanne told me it was the explanation.” The empty smile was back. “You heard what I told Batuhan?”

“Yeah.”

“There it is. Sum and total. The universe’s ultimate sick joke at our expense. So pull the trigger. I’m tired of being played for a fucking fool.”

Talina lowered the rifle to her hip. “So, you’ve exiled Batuhan. Once I shoot you, who’s in charge?”

Vartan shrugged. Glanced sidelong at Shimal and said to the woman, “Not you. The time for ranting Prophets is over.”

Turning back to Talina he said, “Doesn’t matter. But don’t take it out on the women and kids. Irdan, he was the first Prophet. The guy was an asshole even before his brain started to go. Formulated the revolt against Galluzzi when we first realized just how fucked we were. Was one of the ringleaders when it came to murdering people he didn’t find worthy back at the beginning of the Cleansing. He laid the groundwork. Batuhan backed him up.”

“Someone had to object.”

“Sure. And Irdan and the First Chosen slipped up behind them and cut their throats. Someone had to provide the calories that kept us alive. I think the only skeptic left is Shyanne. Hope she made it.”

“She did.”

He raised his arms, let them slap his sides in defeat. “I’m tired. Whatever you’re going to do, do it.”

She stepped forward, snaked Carson’s rifle back and safely out of Vartan’s reach. Keeping Vartan covered, she picked it up, slung it. “Go on. March. And help this woman. She’s looking like she’s about to fall over.”

As Vartan took the woman’s arm and started toward the domes, he said, “Listen, I don’t know what you’ve got planned, but I’m not up to anything long and drawn-out. I really want it over. Fast. Quick. Painless.”

“While I consider that, what do you think we should do with the rest of your people? Shoot them, too?”

“Pus, no! Especially not the kids. Not their fault who they are. And someone’s got to deal with Batuhan—assuming he doesn’t have the guts to follow his own Prophecy. The guy’s a true believer. That’s his power. He really thinks the universe chose him. Chose us. So if he comes back, shoot him, and be done with it.”

“Anything else you want to tell me?”

“Yeah. There’s a couple of booby traps in the admin dome. One in the kitchen in the freezer, another in the radio room.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“How?”

“Com.” She tapped an ear. “Muldare tells me the bomb in the radio room didn’t go off when she pulled out the chair. Said it was a clever device, but the battery was dead. Didn’t have enough of a charge to set off the magtex.”

“Huh! Should have thought of that. Too fucking tired to think straight.”

“Wasn’t a complete failure on your part,” Talina told him. “Muldare says she’s in need of a change of underwear.”