As quickly as he had possession of the circle, he abdicated it, diving after his fallen antagonist. Sol lay on the ground, eyes bulging, hands clasping futilely at his throat. Sos ripped them away and dug his fingers into the sides of the neck, massaging it roughly. His own blood dripped upon Sol's chest as he squatted above him. -
"It's over!" someone screamed. "You're out of the circle! Stop!"
Sos did not stop. He picked one dagger from the ground and cut into the base of Sol's throat, using the knowledge his training in destruction had provided.
A body fell upon him, but he was braced against it. He lifted one great arm and flung the person away without looking. He widened the incision until a small hole opened in Sol's trachea; then he put his mouth to the wound.
More men fell upon him, yanking at his arms and legs, but he clung fast. Air rushed into the unconscious man's lungs as Sos exhaled, and his friend was breathing again, precariously.
"Sav! It's me, Sav," a voice bellowed in his ear, "Red River! Let go! I'll take over!"
Only then did Sos lift bloodflecked lips and surrender to unconsciousness.
He woke to pain shooting along his neck. His hand found bandages there. Sola leaned over him, soft of expression, and mopped the streaming sweat from his face with a cool sponge. "I know you," she murmured as she saw his eyes open. "I'll never leave you-nameless one."
Sos tried to speak, but not even the croak came out. "Yes, you saved him," she said. "Again. He can't talk any more, but he's in better shape than you are. Even though you won." She leaned~ down to kiss him lightly. "It was brave of you to rescue him like that-but nothing is changed."
Sos sat up. His neck exploded into agony as he put stress upon it, and he could not turn his head, but he kept on grimly. He was in the main tent, in what was evidently Sola's compartment. He looked about by swiveling his body. No one else was present.
Sola took his arm gently. "I'll wake you before he goes. I promise. Now lie down before you kill yourself-again."
Everything seemed to be repeating. She had cared for him like this once long ago, and he had fallen in love with her. When he needed help, she was-
Then it was another day. "It's time," she said, waking him with a kiss. She had donned her most elegant clothing and was as beautiful as he had ever seen her. It had been premature to discount his love for her; it had not died.
Sol was standing outside with his daughter, a bandage on his throat and discoloration remaining on his body, but otherwise - fit and strong. He smiled when he saw Sos and came over to shake hands. No words were necessary. Then he placed Soli's little hand in Sos's and turned away.
The men of the camp stood in silence as Sol walked past them, away from the tent. He wore a pack but carried no weapon.
"Daddy!" Soli cried, wrenching away from Sos and running after him. -
Sav jumped out and caught her. "He goes to the mountain," he explained gently. "You must stay with your mother and your new father."
Soli struggled free again and caught up to Sol. "Daddy!" Sol turned, kneeled, kissed her and turned her to face the way she had come. He stood up quickly and resumed his walk. Sos remembered the time he had tried to send Stupid down the mountain.
"Daddy!" she cried once more, refusing to leave him. "I go with you!" Then, to show she understood: "I die with you." -
Sol turned again and looked beseechingly at the assembled men.
No one moved.
Finally he picked Soli up and walked out of the camp.
Sola put her face to Sos's shoulder and sobbed silently, refusing to go after her daughter. "She belongs to him," she said through her tears. "She always did."
As be watched the lonely figures depart, Sos saw what was in store for them. Sol would ascend the mountain, carrying the little girl. He would not be daunted by the snow or the death that waited him. He would drive on until overwhelmed by the cold, and fall at last with his face toward the top, shielding his daughter's body with his own until the end. -
Sos knew what would happen then, and who would- be waiting to adopt a gallant husband and a darling daughter. There would be the chase in the recreation room, perhaps, and special exercise for Soli. It had to be, for Sosa would recognize the child. The child she had longed to bear herself.
Take her! he thought. Take her-in the name of love.
While Sos remained to be the architect of the empire's quiet destruction, never certain whether he was doing the right thing. He had built it in the name of another man; now he would bring it down at the behest of a selfish power clique whose purpose was to prevent civilization from arising on the surface. To prevent power from arising.
Sos had always been directed in key decisions by the action of other men, just as his romancing had been directed by those women who reached for it. Sol had given him his name and first mission; Dr. Jones had given him his weapon; Sol had sent him to the mountain and Bob had sent him back. Sol's lieutenants had forced the mastership upon him, not realizing that he was the enemy of the empire.
Would the time ever come when he made his own decisions? The threat that had existed against Sol now applied against Sos: if he did not dismantle the empire, someone would come for him, someone he would have no way to recognize or guard against, and hostages would die. Three of them, one a child...
He looked at Sola, lovely in her sorrow, and knew that the woman he loved more would belong to Sol. Nothing had changed. Dear little Sosa. Sos faced the men of his empire, thousands strong. They thought him master now-but was he the hero, or the villain?