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Updated: May 16, 2025
Irolg looked amazed at the sudden fury of the attack then smiled. He thought it was a last burst of energy, he knew how close they both were to exhaustion. This must be the end for Brion. They disengaged and Irolg put up a solid defense. He didn't attempt to attack, just let Brion wear himself out against the firm shield of his defense.
"And if you keep on forcing yourself in here, where you are not wanted, rank or no rank, I shall be obliged to break your head." Ihjel had just begun to tell him, in some detail, just how slim his chances were of accomplishing that, when Brion interrupted them both. He recognized the newcomer's voice from the final night in the barracks. "Let him in, Dr. Caulry," he said.
He frowned and muttered something to himself. There was a fine beading of sweat above his eyebrows now as he fought an internal battle. Coming to a decision, he rose, and Brion stood too. "Come with me. I'll take you to Hovedstad. But first you will tell me are you from Nyjord?" "No." The nameless Disan merely grunted and turned away. Brion shouldered Lea's unconscious body and followed him.
I have the knowledge to avert this slaughter and you won't listen to me. And I know where the cobalt bombs are in the magter tower that Hys raided last night. Get those bombs and there is no need to drop any of your own!" "I'm sorry, Brion. I appreciate what you're trying to do, but at the same time I know the futility of it.
You, I suppose, knew Madame de Choisy's shrill tone; Mademoiselle de Vendome was counting her beads; Madame de Vendome would fain have confessed her sins to the Bishop of Lisieux, who said to her, "Daughter, be of good cheer; you are in the hands of God." At the same instant, the Comte do Brion and all the lackeys were upon their knees very devoutly singing the Litany of the Virgin Mary.
He was rewarded by a number of sputtering cracks and a quantity of smoke. The compressor moaned and expired. Faussel was standing in the door with more papers, a shocked expression on his face. "What do you have there?" Brion asked. Faussel managed to straighten out his face and brought the folders to the desk, arranging them on the piles already there.
Lea opened her clenched hands and smoothed them on her sodden skirt. She blinked and turned to Brion. "Is there a tool box here?" she asked. Her words were so unexpected that Brion could not answer for a moment. Before he could say anything she spoke again. "Not hand tools; that would take too long. Could you find anything like a power saw? That would be ideal."
De Brion had very little wit, but was a clever talker, and had a great deal of assurance, which not very seldom supplies the room of good sense. This and the behaviour of M. de Turenne, together with the indolence of Mademoiselle de Vendome, made me think all was fair, so that I never suspected an amour at the bottom.
"That's it, other than us it's a ... complete loss. With the building and all the instruments gone, I have no way to contact our ship in orbit. Can you arrange to get us out of here if necessary?" "Give me your location. A ship is coming now " "I don't need a ship now," Brion interrupted. "Don't send it until I call. If there is a way to stop your destruction I'll find it.
There are many foolish and dangerous things that can be done, such as smoking next to high-octane fuel and putting fingers into electrical sockets. Just as dangerous, and equally deadly, is physically attacking a Winner of the Twenties. Two men hit Brion together, though this made very little difference.
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