“Swell,” said Jimmy, touching his arm. “It still hurts a bit, though.”
“It won’t for long—”
Desquer said, “You three recruits—listen to me. We’re going down. Into Alu. Jacklyn, you’ll go for help.”
The skull-faced legionnaire’s body jerked convulsively. He stared at the commander.
“For—help?”
Desquer nodded. “Right. You know these caves. There are other openings to the surface. Get help. We’ll hide out and wait for you. The Copts won’t expect us to go right to their headquarters, so that’s just what we’ll do.”
“But—” Jacklyn moistened dry lips. “I’ll have to go to the surface?” There was a curious note of horror in his voice.
“Don’t argue. Move! You’ll have a better chance alone than with companions, so—allez!”
Jacklyn moved a pace away, stopped, and turned back. He said woodenly, “I can’t go to the surface, Commander.”
Desquer said very softly, “Why not?”