"Yes, it is mainly the skrodes. The 'great gift' we Riders love so… It is a design for control, but I fear we were remade for it, too. When they touched my skrode, I was converted instantly. Instantly, everything I cared for was meaningless. We are like smart bombs, scattered by the trillions through space that everyone thinks is safe. We will be used sparingly. We are the Blight's hidden weapon, especially in the Low Beyond."
Blueshell twitched, and his voice came out jerkily: "And everything Pham claims is correct."
"No, Blueshell, not everything." Ravna remembered that last chilling standoff with Pham Nuwen. "He has the facts, but he weighs them wrong. As long as your skrodes are not perverted, you are the same folk that I trusted to fly me to the Bottom."
Blueshell angled his look away from her, an angry shrug. Greenstalk's voice came instead. "As long as the skrode has not been perverted… But look how easy it was done, how sudden I became the Blight's."
"Yes, but could it happen except by direct touch? Could you be 'changed' by reading the Net News?" She meant the question as ghastly sarcasm, but poor Greenstalk took it seriously:
"Not by a News item, nor by standard protocol messages. But accepting a transmission targeted on skrode utilities might do it."
"Then we are safe here. You, because you no longer ride a greater skrode, Blueshell because — "
"Because I was never touched — but how can you know that?" His anger was still there deep within shame, but now it was a hopeless anger, directed at something very far away.
"No, dear love, you have not been touched. I would know."
"Yes, but why should Ravna believe you?"
Everything could be a lie, thought Ravna,… but I believe Greenstalk. I believe we four are the only ones in all the Beyond who can hurt the Blight. If only Pham could see it. And that brought her back to: "You say we will start losing our lead?"
Blueshell waved an affirmative. "As soon as we are a little lower. They should have us in a matter of weeks."
And then it won't matter who was perverted and who was not. "I think we should have a little chat with Pham Nuwen." Godshatter and all.
Beforehand Ravna couldn't imagine how the confrontation would turn out. Just possibly — if he'd lost all touch with reality — Pham might try to kill them when they appeared on the command deck. More likely there would be rage and argument and threats, and they would be back to square one.
Instead… it was almost like the old Pham, from before Harmonious Repose. He let them enter the command deck, he made no comment when Ravna set herself carefully between himself and the Riders. He listened without interruption, while Ravna explained what Greenstalk had said. "These two are safe, Pham. And without their help we'll not make it to the Bottom."
He nodded, looked away at the windows. Some showed natural starscape; most were ultratrace displays, the closest thing to a picture of the enemies that were closing on the OOB. His calm expression broke for just an instant, and the Pham that loved her seemed to stare out, desperate: "And you really believe all this, Rav? How?" Then the lid was back on, his expression distant and neutral. "Never mind. Certainly it's true: without all of us working together we'll never make it to Tines' World. Blueshell, I accept your offer. Subject to cautious safeguards, we work together." Till I can safely dispose of you, Ravna could feel the unsaid words behind his blandness. Showdown deferred.
They were less than eight weeks from Tines' World, both Pham and Blueshell said. If the Zone conditions remained stable. If they were not overtaken in the meantime.
Less than two months, after the six already voyaged. But the days were not like before. Every one was a challenge, a standoff sometimes cloaked in civility, sometimes flaring into threats of sudden death — as when Pham retrieved Blueshell's shop equipment.
