She took the outside walk back to the House, around the garden wall, toward the distant doors: it was, thank God, quiet, after the pressure of the interviews. Damn Victoria, she thought, and reckoned that Maddy had wanted to sink out of sight.
"Do you wonder why we do such things?" she murmured to Florian and Catlin. "So do I."
They looked at her, one and the other. Catlin said, in Florian's silence: "It's strange when someone dies. You think they ought to be there. It was that way in Green Barracks."
Ari put her hand on Catlin's shoulder as they walked. Memories. Catlin was the one who had seen people die. "Not slowing down, are you?"
"No, sera," Catlin said. "I don't intend to be talked about."
She laughed softly. Count on Catlin.
Florian said nothing at all. Florian was the one who would have taken in every signal in the crowd; and work over it and work over it to make it make sense. Florian was the one who would worry about the living.
"He's gone," Ari said finally, at the doors. "Damn, that is strange." And looked at Florian, whose face had just gone quite tense, that listening-mode that said he was getting something attention-getting over the Security monitor. One or the other of them was always on-line.
"Novgorod," Florian said. "Jordan Warrick—has declared his innocence— He says—he was coerced. Reseune Security is issuing orders to place him in detention—"
Ari's heart jolted. But everything came clear then. "Florian," she said while they were going through the doors, "code J Red, go. We're on A; go for Q and we're Con2."
Make sure of Justin and Grant: Catlin and I are going for Denys; get home base secure and stay there; force permitted, but not as first resort.
That, before they were through the doors, while a Security guard whose com would not be set on that command-priority gave them a slightly puzzled look at their on-business split-and-go.
"They're not saying much," Catlin said as they went.
"Out to the news-services?"
"That, first," Catlin said. "Com 14 is loaded with incomings."
Reporters at the airport, at the edge of a major news event and hemmed in by an anxious, noncommunicative Security.
"Damn, is Denys on it? What in hell is he doing?"
Catlin tapped the unit in her ear. "Denys is still in the lab; Base One, relay Base Two transmission? —Affirmative, sera. He's sent word to defer all questions; he's saying the charges are a political maneuver, quote, ill-timed and lacking in human feeling. He says, quote, the Family is returning from the funeral and people are out of their offices: Reseune will have a further statement in half an hour."
"Thank God," she said fervently.
Denys was awake. Denys was returning fire.
Damned well about time.