Cobra Gamble

by Timothy Zahn

  Nissa's eyes flicked to Jody. "Seems to me you've got plenty of help already."

  "We will later," Geoff assured her. "Right now, Jody needs to go talk to Rashida Vil."

  Nissa frowned. "The Qasaman woman?"

  "Yes, that's what I came out here to ask you," Jody improvised, turning to Harli. She hadn't actually planned on talking to Rashida until later today after they'd finished their work on the combat suits. But Geoff was clearly angling to keep her and Nissa apart for a while, and she could easily readjust that part of her tentative schedule. "Any idea where she is?"

  "She's over in the other warship," Harli said, eyeing Jody thoughtfully. "Come on—I need to head over there anyway. I'll walk you through the crowd." He flicked a finger at Geoff. "And you go get busy."

  He took Jody's arm and led the way toward the broken wall and the Trofts swarming around it. "Well, that was interesting," he murmured as they walked. "I wouldn't have thought Gendreves was his type."

  "I'm sure it's nothing like that," Jody assured him. "Geoff's always been good at politics and basic old-fashioned charm—it's how we got the funding to come to Caelian in the first place. I think he's decided she's a challenge he can't pass up."

  "Maybe." Harli looked sideways at her. "Next question: how did you know I was going to ask you to talk to Ms. Vil?"

  "I didn't," Jody said, frowning at him. "I just wanted to check in with her and see how she's doing. What did you want me to talk to her about?"

  Harli made a face. "I wish I knew. There's just something... she's polite and all, and she takes orders just fine. But there's something going on behind those eyes I can't figure out. I figure since you're the closest thing she's got to a friend here, maybe you could get it out of her."

  "Not sure I qualify as a friend, exactly," Jody warned. "But I'll be happy to give it a try."

  "Thanks." Harli gestured ahead. "I need to talk to Popescu for a second. If you want, I can get one of the others to walk you the rest of the way."

  "That's all right," Jody said. "I'd like to hear what he has to say, too."

  Harli grunted. "Fine," he said. "But you aren't going to like it." He was right.

  "I found it wedged behind the number eight grav lift," Popescu said, showing Harli a small, gleaming wrench. "Right where we ran the connections to the ship's power system."

  "Exactly where you'd put something metal if you wanted to short the whole thing out," Harli said.

  "Yeah, pretty much," Popescu growled. "Sorry, Harli. Someone really dropped the ball on this one."

  "Not your fault," Harli said, peering up at the ship. "You never had nearly enough men to ride herd on a work gang this big."

  "Yeah, excuses always look so good on your gravestone," Popescu said sourly. "Anyway, I've got Brady pulling together a team to start rechecking everything."

  "Good," Harli said. "Any guess as to how soon they'll be done?"

  "Depends on how many men he can pull away from other duties," Popescu said. "No earlier than this afternoon, though. Maybe not until tomorrow."

  "Damn," Harli said. "Well, if it's tomorrow, it's tomorrow. Just make sure to remind Brady that speed is good, but accuracy is better."

  "Be nice if we could have both, though," Popescu reminded him. "What would you think about pulling the Cobras off out-rim guard duty to help out? If the Trofts are going to play games, there's no reason we should knock ourselves out protecting them from giggers and screech tigers."

  "Good point," Harli said. "You can take a few, but you need to leave at least half the current number of guards out there." He gestured to Jody. "You know the Tlossies better than I do. Does it make sense to keep the prisoners safe—you know, holding onto the moral high ground, and all that—if we want to get them in as allies?"

  "Absolutely," Jody assured him. "The Tlossies put a high premium on playing by the rules."

  "Yeah, fine," Popescu said. "But high moral ground isn't much use if all it does is open you to more enemy fire."

  "Don't worry, I'm also going to have a little chat with Captain Eubujak," Harli assured him grimly. "I'm going to tell him that if we find any more sabotage from his troops I might just take Ms. Gendreves up on her suggestion to set off a warhead inside the downed ship." He glowered at the Trofts working at the edges of the wall. "And I might not wait until after the explosion to move him and his troops inside."

  Jody felt her eyes widen. "You wouldn't."

  "No, but Eubujak doesn't know that," Harli said. "Popescu, go help Brady form his crew and get to work. As soon as I've get Jody to the other ship, I'll come back and give you a hand."

  They reached the second Troft warship without further incident. The Cobra guard passed them through, and Harli led Jody to the top deck. Rashida was right where Jody had expected to find her: seated at the helm and studying the angled control board.

  "Ms. Vil," Harli greeted her as he and Jody walked past two small groups of techs testing the circuits in some of the other boards. "How are things going?"

  "They go well," Rashida said, looking up at them.

  Only they weren't going well, Jody realized as she studied the other woman's face. There was a tension behind Rashida's eyes, a tautness at odds with her confident words.

  Harli was right. Something was wrong.

  "Good," Harli said, and Jody could hear the false cheerfulness in his voice, as well. "I'll leave you two alone, then." He glanced at the techs, as if only then realizing how relative solitude was right now. "Just let the guard downstairs know when you want to leave, Jody, and he'll arrange an escort."

  "Thank you," Jody said. "Good hunting."

  Harli nodded to her, then to Rashida, then turned and strode out of the room.

  "What is he hunting?" Rashida asked.

  "Sabotage," Jody said, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "One of the Trofts working on the downed ship jammed a wrench where it would short out the power conduits. So now they have to check over everything before they can try to move it."

  "Yes, I see," Rashida said, lowering her eyes back to the control panel in front of her. "How much will that put them behind schedule?"

  "Don't know for sure," Jody said. "Several hours at least. Maybe a day or more if they find more sabotage."

  "Which will then delay the moving of this ship?" Rashida asked.

  "I'd say so, yes," Jody said, studying the woman's profile. "Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?"

  A muscle in Rashida's cheek twitched. "Does it need to be either?" she countered evasively.

  "No, but it usually is," Jody said, lowering her voice. "What's wrong, Rashida?"

  Rashida's throat worked. "I..." Her eyes flicked to the side. "I can't tell you. Not here. Not now."

  Jody felt a sudden stirring of anger. "Is someone bothering you?" she asked softly. "One of these men?"

  "No, not at all," Rashida said quickly. "It's... there's trouble. I should have spoken of it sooner, but..." She trailed off.

  Jody chewed at her lip. The techs working on the other side of the room were theoretically out of earshot, especially if Jody and Rashida kept their voices low.

  But there was at least one Cobra in the group, and maybe more who Jody didn't know, and distance didn't mean much where Cobra audios were involved.

  Still, there was distance, and then there was distance. "Come on," Jody said, standing up and offering the other woman her hand. "Let's take a walk."

  Rashida shook her head. "I was told to stay here."

  "That's okay," Jody said, still holding out her hand. "I'll take responsibility."

  Rashida seemed to draw back. "You can do that?"

  Jody felt her lip twitch. For a moment she'd almost forgotten how male-dominated the Qasaman culture was.

  And it suddenly occurred to her that the Caelian society Rashida was experiencing probably looked a lot like the one she'd left at home. Of course, that was really only because Governor Uy had declared the planet to be on a war footing, which meant that the Cobras—all of whom
were men—were basically running everything.

  But Rashida wouldn't know that. And whatever her world's rules were about women speaking out or approaching superiors with questions or problems, that system was what she was working under right now. "Of course," she said, trying to keep her voice light. "Come on. A little fresh air will do you good."

  Rashida hesitated another moment. Then, almost gingerly, she got to her feet. "All right," she said, still sounding uncertain.

  "Wait a second," the Cobra spoke up, frowning at them. "Maybe you missed it, but the fresh air down there is contaminated with Trofts."

  "That's okay," Jody assured him. "That's not the direction we're going."

  Two minutes later, she pushed open the ship's rear dorsal hatch and climbed up the narrow stairway onto the hull crest. "Here we are," she said cheerfully, offering Rashida a hand up. "Fresh air, no predators, and no Trofts. And a pretty nice view."

  "Yes," Rashida said coming gingerly up onto the hull crest. "It's... a little high, though."

  "You're afraid of heights?" Jody asked, frowning. "But you're a pilot."

  "I don't mind heights when I'm encased in a flying vehicle," Rashida said. "Here, there's a chance I might fall." She craned her neck gingerly. "And it's a very long way down."

  "That it is," Jody agreed, peering at the Trofts, the humans, and the town thirty meters below them. "So tell me what the problem is."

  Rashida hesitated. "Can I trust you?" she asked. "I need to trust you. I need you to not tell them."

  "Okay," Jody agreed cautiously. "Tell them what?"

  "Tell them..." Rashida closed her eyes. "I was left here as a hostage, Jody Broom."

  Jody felt her eyes narrow. "A hostage?"

  "You weren't supposed to know," Rashida said. "None of you were. Djinni Ghofl Khatir wanted to show our determination to abide by the terms of our agreement. I'm that guarantee of our honor."

  "There wasn't any need for that," Jody assured her. "We know you're honorable. Besides, we don't do the whole hostage thing."

  "It was nevertheless Ghofl Khatir's wish that I remain," Rashida said. "From his discussions with Cobra Harli Uy, I believe your leaders accepted my presence because they thought my Troft language skills might prove useful."

  "Which they have," Jody said, suppressing the urge to tell her to get to the point. Clearly, she had to do this her way.

  "But I believe Cobra Harli Uy also thought my piloting abilities might prove useful." Rashida swallowed hard. "He still believes that."

  Jody felt her stomach knot up as she finally saw where Rashida was going. "He wants you to fly the warships away from here," she said. "Only you can't, can you?"

  "No," Rashida said, almost too quietly to hear.

  Jody looked down at the town again. "But I thought Djinni Khatir said you were a better pilot than he was. Was he lying?"

  "No, not a lie," Rashida hastened to assure her. "But certainly a mischaracterization. I can fly most Qasaman aircraft, most likely better than he. I was also the more capable pilot on the freighter we used to travel here from our home. But this—" she waved a hand helplessly downward at the ship they were standing on "—this is far beyond my capabilities."

  Jody hissed gently between her teeth. Practically every plan she'd heard Harli or the others discuss over the past few days had included the unspoken assumption that they could move the two Troft warships wherever they needed to go. If Rashida couldn't do that, there was certainly no one else on Caelian who could. "But you can learn, right?" she asked. "I know the warship's bigger, and probably has a gazillion times as many controls as the freighter. But the principles are still the same. In theory, all you have to do is apply what you were taught and ratchet it up a bit."

  "You don't understand," Rashida said with a tired sigh. "Djinni Khatir and I weren't actually taught how to fly the freighter. The invader pilot was drugged and made to believe he was performing various maneuvers under various circumstances. Djinni Khatir and I merely watched and memorized his movements."

  Under the influence of memory-enhancement drugs of their own, no doubt. "So you watched him working the controls—"

  "There were no controls," Rashida interrupted. "There was no freighter. We memorized his movements as he sat at a long dining table in a Qasaman village and imagined himself aboard his ship. We watched where his fingers and hands worked the controls that he believed he was seeing."

  Jody felt a shiver run through her. She'd had no idea Qasaman drugs could do anything like that. "I see," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. "So you're saying you never actually looked at the controls when you were flying the freighter?"

  Rashida shrugged slightly. "I saw them," she said. "I could read their labels, and understand a little of what they said. But the control boards here are an entirely different layout. I can't translate my sequences and control movements to them."

  "Got it," Jody said, wincing. Harli was not going to be happy about this. "Okay. We'd better go down and find Harli."

  "No," Rashida gasped, grabbing Jody's arm. "You can't. If he learns that we lied to him, all will be lost."

  "It was a mischaracterization, not a lie," Jody reminded her. "Regardless, he has to know, and he has to know now. His whole strategy's going to need revision, and he's only got eight days to revise it."

  "I beg of you," Rashida said, her voice desperate, her fingers digging into Jody's skin. "You must not tell him. I cannot fail him, and you, and my own people. The dishonor would be too much to bear."

  "Well, then, you'd better figure out how to fly this thing," Jody said bluntly. "Because those are your only two options."

  Rashida stared into Jody's eyes... and then, to Jody's surprise, the tension seemed to melt out of her face. "No," she said quietly as she let go and let her hand fall to her side. "There is one other choice."

  Jody frowned. "What do you—?"

  And then, suddenly, she understood. "Whoa!" she said, taking a quick step forward and grabbing Rashida's wrist. "Don't do anything stupid. We need you."

  "No, you don't," Rashida said, twisting her arm and freeing it from Jody's grip. "You understand the invaders' language better than I do. You can do whatever translation is necessary. That ability and my presence as a symbol of Qasaman honor are my only value."

  "That's not true," Jody insisted, wondering if she should try again to grab the other woman's arm. But their footing was precarious enough up here, and if they ended up in a struggle there was a good chance both of them would fall to their deaths. "Neither of them is true. You speak cattertalk way better than I do."

  "My speaking did not prevent the invaders' courier ship from obtaining information of our situation and escaping with it." Rashida gestured again at the ship stretching out beneath them. "No, their writing is what's important now. And you read far better than I do."

  "We need you," Jody repeated desperately. "Look, at least you've flown a Troft ship. That's more than any of the rest of us have done. Let's put our heads together and figure out—"

  She broke off as the hint of an idea suddenly came to her. "Wait a second. You say you flew the freighter on pure touch and kinesthetic positioning, right? What if we go to the freighter, you show me what you did, I translate the control labels, and we work out together how to adapt everything to the warships' control boards?"

  Rashida stared at her, a cautious flicker of hope in her eyes. "But the warship controls are far more complex."

  "Sure, because this thing can do a lot more than a freighter can," Jody said. "For starters, the helm probably has a weapons section so that the pilot or copilot can fire the lasers and missiles if the regular gunners are incapacitated. That's how Dominion of Man warships work. Or at least, that's how they worked the last time we saw one a century ago."

  "What if you're wrong?" Rashida persisted. "What if we can't learn to fly the warship that way?"

  "Then we won't be any worse off than we are already," Jody pointed out. "Are you at least willing to give it a t
ry?"

  Rashida's gaze dipped once to the ground far below and she took a deep breath. Then, she looked back up at Jody and nodded. "Yes," she said firmly. "How do we proceed?"

  Jody took a deep breath of her own. The thought of having to watch while Rashida satisfied her Qasaman view of honor had terrified her more than she'd realized. "We go to Harli," she said. "We tell him—"

  "No!" Rashida interrupted. "We can't tell him about this. My honor—"

  "No, no, no," Jody said hastily. "What we're going to tell him is that we want to go back to the freighter. To, I don't know, check its control systems or something. Maybe say we have to double-check how the navigation system and history readout work—that's something we could only do back there. Once he gives the okay, we can check out an aircar and be at the wreck by mid-afternoon."

  "I don't think Cobra Uy will let us use an aircar," Rashida said. "I overheard the other Cobras talking. Most are out on search or transport duty, and he's keeping the rest in reserve."

  "Then we'll borrow a spooker," Jody said.

  "You can drive one of those vehicles?" Rashida asked, sounding doubtful.

  "Sure," Jody said. "I mean, how hard can it be?"

  * * *

  "I'll tell you how hard it can be," Harli growled. "Picture a typical grav-lift cycle and multiply it by about ten. Add in unfamiliar terrain, multiply that by ten. Then add in nasty, hungry predators and multiply that by fifty."

  "You don't have to be so dramatic," Jody said stiffly. "I do know something about the forest, you know. I spent a full day tromping through it."

  "And damn near got yourself killed in the process," Harli retorted. "What am I wasting time arguing about this for? No. The answer is no."

  Jody braced herself. "Harli—"

  "If you think you need to study the wreck, fine," Harli continued, "I'll have Kemp and Smitty drive you out there."

  "Oh," Jody said, feeling the argumentative wind snapped straight out of her sails. She should have realized that was where Harli was going.

  Only now, instead of pulling just herself and Rashida out of the already critically short labor pool, they were going to rob Harli of the use of a pair of Cobras, too. That hadn't been part of her original calculation. "Or we could make it simpler and just take an aircar," she suggested.