Read Antagonist - Childe Cycle 11 for Free Online Page B

reactions might be when they notice us sniffing around on their trail. We only managed to get off Newton because the authorities there didn't know which ship we were trying to reach when we crossed the spaceport pad, remember."
    "Perhaps some of the Soldiers should go on the ship that travels— well, incognito," she suggested. "They won't be part of our official party, which could make them more useful in some situations."
    "True," he said. "We'll have to get Henry's input on which ones would be best suited for that kind of job—it'll demand initiative and experience ... in fact, I can think of several things they can be doing on the planet before we get there."
    "That sounds as if you want to send some of the technical teams," she said. "Carl Carlson might be a good choice to lead that group." She was referring to Henry's second-in-command.
    "No," Bleys said. "He's been with us too long."
    At her questioning look, he explained: "We have to assume someone might know about the people who work most closely with us," he said. "Carl might be recognized."
    "All right," she said. "I see that. But I was about to remind you that some of the Soldiers are originally from Ceta. They might be particularly useful on the first ship, since they'll blend better into the population."
    "Unless they have some reason for not wanting to go back," he said. "We generally don't ask if our people have legal problems elsewhere, but those on the first ship won't be covered by my diplomatic immunity."
    "Henry will be able to judge that." She nodded.
    "Having Soldiers already in place undercover," Bleys went on, "will allow my 'official party,' as you put it, to be smaller. I know I need the bodyguards, but I worked hard to craft my image as a peace-loving philosopher who travels about the Younger Worlds giving common-sense talks, and I've been uncomfortable with the conflict between that image and my apparent need for guards."
    "I don't think you really mean you, personally, are uncomfortable with that apparent contradiction," she said, after taking a moment to think. "I think you mean you don't like it because the need for bodyguards detracts from the message your image is crafted to present."
    "Well, that's true, too," he replied. "But I did mean what I said, literally."
    "What do you mean?"
    "I mean that appearing to be a philosopher is not exactly a lie," he said. "At least, whether I am one, or not—I'd like to be one."
    "You are," she said. "You couldn't have seen the way to your mission if you weren't."
    "I guess that's so," he said. "But there seems to be a little bit of the idealist left in me—enough to regret that I need bodyguards at all. It seems ... unphilosophical."
    "Oh, there's a lot of the idealist left in you," she said—and for a brief moment a smile lit her face; but quickly vanished. "There's no reason for your mission that isn't based on ideals—and selfless ones, too.
    He didn't want to go any further with the conversation, so he let the silence stretch on; until at last the subject could be considered dropped, and she left to begin her assignments.
    When the spare, late-middle-aged figure of Henry MacLean stepped off the disk of the private elevator, Bleys was standing in front of the Mayne-map, waiting for him.
    "Thank you for coming, Uncle," Bleys said. He felt ready to handle mentioning Ceta to Henry, now. He had lost his balance for a few moments, he told himself, but now he had recovered, just as he would after making a mistake during a martial-arts workout.
    Henry wasted no time on preliminaries.
    "How quickly do we leave for Ceta?" he said.
    "I can't answer that so simply," Bleys said. He was determined not to let himself be thrown off balance again so quickly.
    "You make it sound complicated," Henry said. "I need details on what will be required."
    "Come and sit with me," Bleys said. "Toni and I have laid out a tentative plan, and I'd like to run through it with you, as well as discuss some special arrangements—we