XI

The first bird arrived a few moments before the radio began coming in

clear.

"_Sakura_," Hartford said, this being the prompt-word to which the

blabrigar was trained to reply.

"Fifty men, sir; fifty men, sir; on the way, sir; on the way, sir," the

bird chanted into Hartford's ear. He let the bird rest on his shoulder;

it would have to fly back to the scout who'd sent it soon, to tell him

to join the rest of them at the ambush-point.

The sun was low in the sky. H-hour was near. The signals began coming

closer-together. "Saw one Stinker off your left flank, Miller.... Left

flank-guard reporting, sir. That Gook took off due east. Blabrigar on

his shoulder.... Lieutenant Felix here. Anything on the right flank?...

Nothing, sir.... Keep moving, Lieutenant." This last voice was the

colonel's.

Hartford frowned. If Nasty Nef had come out in person, the game would

have to be played fast and dirty.

Hartford set his bitcher low. "_Abunai yo!_" he said to his guerrillas,

sprawled out all along the ledge like figurines on a mantlepiece. "Be

cautious. Shoot your dart and get behind something. From now on, be

silent. The enemy is near."

Takeko spoke: "You mean, Lee-chan, that our brothers draw near." The

other Kansans smiled. Some saluted, a gesture they'd observed among the

Axenites they'd been spying upon for the past few days.

The first of the scouts came galloping up the gullet of the canyon.

Without a sound he signaled his watching comrades, invisible above him.

He made a circle with his hand, pointing up. That meant the Regiment's

veeto-platform was scouting ahead of the approaching Axenites. The

first man slapped his _giraffu_ to hasten it up the pass, past the

Daibutsu. Two other scouts, the foxes urging on the hounds, came

shouting into the canyon. Neither of them was Ito Jiro. As his name

signified, Jiro was the youngest son of Ito-san, the knife-maker. He

was the darling of the family. Where was he? Hartford worried.

The radio, no longer masked by the rocks, was filled with information.

Hartford heard the veeto-pilot reporting: "They're headed up the gulch

past the big idol, sir," he said. "There's a village up there. That's

where they're probably headed. What do you want me to do, sir?" The

platform hovered over the canyon, unwilling to work its way into the

jagged, bamboo-and-pine-prickly fissure.

"Keep in touch, Sky-Eye," Nef ordered. "We're coming right up."

"Felix here, sir," the lieutenant reported. "We've got one of the Gooks

prisoner. He's just a kid. Doesn't seem to know a thing."

"Hold him till we get someone who talks Stinker," Nef said.

They got Jiro, Hartford thought. Damn.

* * * * *

The first of the troopers, an officer in the blue safety-suit,

spearheaded the column. "Nothing in sight yet," Felix's voice reported.

The officer signaled "Come on" with the sweep of his arm, and the

first squad of Axenites, dispersed as skirmishers, formed themselves

into a file to enter the canyon. The veeto-platform above kept the

foliage pressed down with its jet of air, stirring dust that both

improved concealment and threatened to trigger a sneeze from one of the

ambushers.

Hartford peered cautiously over the edge of the shelf. He'd set his

forces far enough back in the canyon that the entire Axenite column

would be encased. "Sir, this is Felix," the radio said. "Do you agree,

sir, that I should place one squad in reserve till the rest get through

the gully?"

"Peel off one squad and stay with it, Felix," Nef said.

Felix's voice again: "Sir, it was our Lieutenant Hartford that the

Gooks got. I'd like to go in early."

"Very well, Felix. Miller, hold your squad where it is. Disperse them

well, and wait my order before bringing them into the ditch. Confirm."

"Done and done, sir," Miller snapped.

The first two dozen troopers were in the canyon now, half the Axenite

force. Colonel Nef had shown the good sense to don an ordinary blue

safety-suit; his scarlet command-suit would have made him a splendid

target. Another squad entered, their Dardick-rifles held at the ready.

This would have to be quick, Hartford thought, or he'd lose his entire

corps at their first volley. He raised his hand, a signal visible only

to Takeko. She cupped her hands around her mouth and whistled the call

of the nightingale, "Ho-o-kekyo ... kekyo!"

Before the echoed notes had died, the darts had found their targets.

The radio was a clutter of undisciplined Damn's, cries of "I've been

hit!" One trooper, quicker than the rest, caught sight of a Kansan. He

raised his rifle and purred out a stream of Dardick-pellets. Yoritomo,

apprentice to the paper-maker, tumbled over the lip of the ledge, his

blowpipe falling with him like a jack-straw. There was a babble on the

radio. Nef overrode all other circuits to command: "At ease! Rake the

ledges with sustained fire."

The canyon was blasted with a confetti of metal and spalled rock as the

troopers hosed the shelves with bullets.

The angle made aiming impossible. But by luck and the intensity of the

barrage another man, the carpenter's son, had toppled to his death.

"Sky-Eye! Get your butt down here!" Nef bellowed. "Decontamination

Team! Bring the vehicle to the mouth of the canyon. We've got men

septic." He tongued-on his bitcher and bellowed at the troopers. "On

the double, through the ditch."

"_Yuke!_" Hartford shouted to the men far up the wall, in the niche

that held the Daibutsu. "Go!"

* * * * *

The sappers at the back of the giant bronze statue bent to their

levers. The tons of metal scooted slowly forward, hit the fat-smeared

edge of the shelf. As quietly as a man rocking forward in prayer, the

Daibutsu dropped head-down into the ravine. It struck the bottom with

the sound of a great gong, and rocked, unshattered, plugging the throat

of the canyon, standing as a dam. The hands of the Enlightened One were

held in the positions of Protection and of Giving; His face bore still

a quiet smile. About the head of the image a fountain of water burst,

squeezed up from the stream below. "_Namu Amida Butsu!_" Takeko said,

cuddled against Hartford, staring down.

"Keep down," he said. He lifted his suit-radio and flicked on the

transmission-switch. "This is Lee Hartford, late of the First

Regiment," he announced. "The safety-suits of most of you have

been breached. There is not room for more than three of you in the

Decontamination Vehicle. You are not septic. I repeat: you have not

been contaminated. Kansas is as safe for you as the Barracks, or Titan,

or the M'Bwene planets, or in the cells at Luna. You do not need your

safety-suits on Kansas."

"Find that man and gun the traitor down," Nef's voice demanded from the

speaker on his suit.

"I am coming out unarmed," Hartford radioed.

"Fire the moment you see him," Nef said. One of the officers had his

Dardick-pistol drawn, his eyes traversing the canyon walls.

"No, sir!" Felix's voice snapped from his bitcher. "You can't shoot the

man till he's had a chance to speak."

"Go to the rear at once, Private Felix," Nef bellowed.

Felix pointed his handgun toward Nef. "No, sir," he replied. "Hartford

was my C.O., and an honest man. I'll hear him before I see him killed.

Or by my life, sir, I'll kill you after him."

"This is treason," Nef said.

"Drop your pistol, sir, or I'll have to try to shoot it from your hand.

Excuse me, sir," Felix said.

Nef's gun dropped.

"You all hear me?" Felix bitched. "Hear me out there, Miller?" There

was a chorus of "Roger!" Felix went on: "I'm going to unclamp my

helmet, troopers. I'm going to take off my safety-suit. That's how much

I trust Lee Hartford, troopers. The man who tries to stop Hartford

better begin with me." Felix opened his helmet, removed it, and placed

it on the rocks beside him. He went up to drink from the fountain that

sparkled about the head of the Daibutsu, cupping his hands. "It's good

water, men," he said. "Come on down, Hartford," he shouted through the

clear night air.

* * * * *

Lee Hartford twisted over the edge of the shelf, held himself by his

finger-tips, and dropped. He stood before his old comrades in arms

dressed as a country Kansan. His head bore only a stubble of hair, and

a scarlet blabrigar came down to settle familiarly on his shoulder. "I

caused your suits to be breached for good reason," he said, speaking

into the bitcher he'd recovered from his safety-suit. "If any of you

has a sore backside because of the darts my men sent at you, please

accept my apologies." Two more Axenites removed their helmets, and

stood grinning uncertainly at Hartford. "I have lived on Kansas for

two weeks, living like a native. I've breathed Kansan air, eaten their

wonderful food and even kissed one of their girls." There was a murmur

of laughter. "I'm as healthy as ever I was inside the Barracks,"

Hartford said. "And I'm a good deal happier."

There was louder laughter among the Axenites, and more helmets

opened. Hartford turned to look behind him. Takeko was hanging by her

finger-tips off the shelf, trying to work up the courage to drop. He

went over to stand below her. "Fall to me, darling," he said. "Fall

into my arms."

"I hear, _shujin_, and obey," Takeko squeaked, and dropped.

When Hartford released Takeko and turned to face the troopers, every

helmet but Nef's was opened. Half a dozen of the men had already

stripped to their Class B's. They had their faces tilted into the wind

that was sweeping up the gullet of the canyon, smelling for the first

time in their lives the scents of open nature, the spice of green

life in the air. They were seeing the Kansas sky; a mosaic of stars,

unfiltered by helmets. They were breathing air not humid with their

own perspiration. Holding Takeko's hand in his, Hartford walked up to

Felix. "You saved the day, old buddy," he said.

There was the cough of a tapped-off Dardick-round.

Felix fell. Colonel Nef, his pistol held at the hip, tilted it toward

Hartford. He looked startled for a moment, then dropped the pistol.

In his wrist were three blowgun-darts. Clustered across his chest

were half a dozen more. Hartford waved at the Kansans on the ledge.

"_Arigato!_" he shouted, and told them to come down.

Two men had died in the engagement: Yoritomo the paper-maker and

Sannosuke the carpenter's son. Felix's thigh-bone had been broken by

Nef's shot; and Colonel Nef's right wrist would require attention. A

medical officer had been sent for from the Barracks to set Felix's leg.

The dead men were carried on litters up to the shelves and around the

fallen Daibutsu to the village. Hartford splinted his friend's broken

leg. "What now, Hartford?" Felix asked.

"I suggest that you all become guests in Yamamura."

"Done and done," Felix said.

Takeko came up to lay a bunch of flowers on his chest. "They smell

sweet," she said. "Courage such as yours smells sweet in the nostrils

of heaven."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Felix said. He turned his head to follow the girl

as she took a second handful of flowers to place it beside the fountain

that jetted about the head-standing Daibutsu. "I can see where this

will be a popular planet to do duty on, Lieutenant," he said. "What you

discovered here will pretty well wipe out the Brotherhood."

"You're right," Hartford said. "The Brotherhood is doomed."

They watched as Takeko knelt before the inverted image. "_Namu Amida

Butsu_," she said. "All men are the same in the sight of Amida, the

Lord of Boundless Light."

"Maybe I'm wrong, Lieutenant," Felix said. "Maybe the Brotherhood just

got started."