"What!" Not another one, Thark denied to himself. He probed Kennard, only to find the Sanctioner was right. This man was shielded, at least as well as Menshikov had been. Could he, then, have been mistaken about the human lack of Talent?
No. He pushed that thought firmly aside, unable to accept it.
Kennard grinned at him, weak but triumphant. "I am, huh? Then Rina was right—Jim's not a fluke. You've blown it, traitor."
Corina lost contact as the lander lurched, making its firing pass over Prowler, and then made a fast landing. She was out of her seat almost as quickly as Nevan, though he beat her to the door. As soon as all were outside, she said, "Our countdown starts now. Go!"
She was badly disturbed by the bodies littering the landing pad. Even though she had watched him do it, she found it hard to believe the one who had taught her so much could be responsible for this. The Thark she had been so sure she knew would never have been capable of such slaughter!
She followed Medart's sudden movement toward the green-clad body halfway to the Palace entrance. He stopped, knelt to turn it over and close staring eyes, then he looked up at Corina. "Darlas. He never had a chance."
A taut, quiet voice interrupted. "There is a living one we can still help, sir."
Medart looked up into cold-steel eyes. "Right. Let's get to the Throne Room, then."
Hobison and Greggson had already led the rest of the assault group inside; Corina heard the Security Chief curse, then comment, "They'll be easy enough to find, Captain. Just follow the bodies."
"Yeah," Hobison agreed tonelessly. "Split up, then. You, Marshall and Eustazio secure Communications; the rest of us will search-and-silence. Double-check that your weapons are on stun, then go."