by Timothy Zahn
“They were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Nicole said, suddenly weary of all this. “They’d been tipped off that we were coming. But the Shipmasters aren’t here, so they didn’t get here ahead of us, so they must have had some other way of communicating with them.”
“That’s not true,” Worwol insisted. “We were merely returning to our hive and happened to find you here.”
“Really?” Nicole asked, raising her eyebrows. “Why?”
“Ah…” Worwol looked at Rywoo as if for help.
“It’s not that hard,” Nicole said. “Either you came here because the Shipmasters ordered you to, or else you were bringing in a trophy to add to your flyer collection. Which was it?”
Again, Worwol and Rywoo looked at each other.
“We have a flyer,” Rywoo said.
“We left it in the grass when we heard you,” Worwol added.
“Why?” Nicole asked. “No, don’t bother. You left it behind because you weren’t delivering it to the hive. You were delivering it to the Shipmasters, probably putting it in the corridor outside the door.”
“Why would they do that?” Moile asked.
“Because they’re traitors,” Nicole said bluntly. “They’re sneaking up on their own operators, stunning them, and stealing their flyers.”
Worwol twitched back as Moile pressed his sword tip a little harder into the wolfman’s throat. “Is this true?” the Ponng asked.
“It’s a lie,” Worwol protested. “The human is trying to sow distrust and bitterness among us.” He twitched again, harder this time, as Moile again pressed his sword tip into the wolfman’s throat.
“Really,” Moile said coldly. “And how did you know her kind is called human?”
Nicole had barely met this species, and had no idea of their range of expressions. Just the same, she was pretty sure the hooded eyes and clenched teeth indicated chagrin at his slip.
Not that it mattered. Nicole already had all the proof she needed.
“It’s all right, Moile,” she said. “It’s their own people they’re betraying, not us. Anyway, I should have seen this coming. The Shipmasters have already played around with different species fighting each other. Sooner or later they would want to see if they could talk or bribe someone into turning on their own side.”
She gestured to the wolfmen. “So what did they promise? That you’d each get a ration for every flyer you delivered to the Skinless?”
For a moment neither wolfman answered. Then, Worwol’s jaws separated a couple of centimeters. “Two rations,” he said. “Two rations each, and safety from our people if they learned of the deal.”
“Traitors,” Teika muttered.
“Realists,” Worwol countered. “Why should one starve because one’s leaders are fools?”
“Maybe you should have been the leader,” Nicole said.
“I should have,” Worwol agreed. “I would have. But Owrogor insisted.” He bared his teeth again. “Let them starve.”
“They certainly made it easy for you,” Nicole said. “Once your drones were all over the Skinless side of the arena there was no way for any of your side to see what you were doing. The Shipmasters probably gave you some of the flyer drug, and you just took it to the nearest operator, stunned him, and took his controller and the flyer.”
“Easy, and profitable,” Moile murmured.
“Unless they got caught,” Nicole agreed. “But with everyone working more or less on their own, and with all the grass to hide in, there wasn’t much chance of that unless they got sloppy.” She smiled tightly. “Or unless they switched to a smarter leader.”
Worwol bared his teeth again, but remained silent.
“What do we do with them?” Moile asked.
“I’d love to turn them over to their own people,” Nicole said. “But we really don’t have the time. So we say good-bye, and send them on their way.” She raised her eyebrows questioningly. “Or you stab them and let them bleed out. Their choice.”
“Point taken,” Worwol said with a touch of humor as he gingerly touched his injured side.
“May we have the flyer?” Rywoo asked, pointing to the one Nicole had thrown at him.
Nicole stared at him. “You’re kidding, right? No, you may not have it. And you can’t keep the one you were bringing the Shipmasters, either. Just go, both of you. If we see you again, we will kill you.”
“You may try,” Worwol said. “You may not succeed.”
“Oh, we will,” Nicole said. “Trust me. Now go.”
Without another word, the wolfmen backed up. They paused at the edge of the field, then turned and disappeared into the grass.
“Moile, Teika—go find that drone,” Nicole ordered. “And watch yourselves—they might try to argue the point.”
“They won’t succeed,” Moile promised grimly. “Come, Teika.”
They, too, disappeared into the grass.
“Interesting,” Wesowee said quietly, coming up from behind Nicole. “How did you know?”
“The river,” Nicole said, walking over to the broken drone she’d thrown at Rywoo and picking it up. “Like I said, the only two reasons for them to be here at this time of day was an order by the Shipmasters or a drone delivery. Either way, their own actions convicted them.”
“But if they had a stick hornet drone—ah.” Wesowee nodded. “One or both of them would be wet from swimming across the river.”
“Exactly,” Nicole said. “That, and the fact they were trying to hide the drone they’d brought, made it suspicious. I just had to put the pieces together.”
There was a rustling in the grass, and the Ponngs emerged, Moile carrying both swords, Teika carrying an intact flyer with a phone-sized tablet balanced on top of it.
“We found it, Protector,” Teika said. “Exactly as you said.”
“You can see the markings are different than those on that one,” Moile said.
“For the different sides,” Nicole said, peering at the drone in her hands. The damage had partially obliterated the markings, but even so she could clearly see what Moile was talking about. “Another good reason for them to hide it until they figured out who we were and whose side we were on.”
“Whose side are we on?” Wesowee asked, smoothly switching back to his big dumb Ghorf mode.
“Ours,” Nicole said. “The Fyrantha’s.”
“Ah,” Wesowee said. “So they betrayed their own people? That doesn’t sound like something true soldiers would do.”
“It’s not,” Moile said grimly. “But it’s something the Shipmasters would be more than willing to exploit.”
Wesowee pondered. “Then the Shipmasters are not true soldiers, either,” he concluded.
“No, they’re not,” Nicole agreed.
“What now, Protector?” Teika asked. “We have the drone you wanted. What do we do next?”
Nicole peered up at the sky. Like a real sky, on a real planet, with a sun, clouds, and everything. Also up there was the Shipmasters’ observation balcony.
Had the Shipmasters watched the little drama that had just played out down here? If so, they might already be on their way, possibly with their tame Koffren in tow.
But if for some reason they hadn’t seen it …
“We have one drone, yes,” she said. “But as long as we’re here—and as long as you and Moile have figured out a system—we might as well go ahead and get another one.”
“Are you certain?” Wesowee asked, sounding more confused than his dumb Ghorf role probably needed. “It would put even more pressure on everyone’s food supplies.”
“I know, and I don’t like that part,” Nicole admitted. “But there may be something else we can do about that. Anyway, I think it’s worth trying. If you’re willing, that is.”
“We follow the Protector,” Moile said firmly. “You may wait in the corridor if you wish.”
Wesowee squared his lumpy shoulders. “I will also follow the Protector,” he said. “Do we stay here whi
le the Ponngs search out a controller?”
“We’ve already got the wolfman version,” Nicole said, hoping fervently she knew what she was doing. “I was thinking we’d head out the door, circle around to the stick hornet side, and grab one of theirs.”
“As you wish,” Wesowee said. “Lead us, Protector. We will follow.”
six
Nicole had been impressed by the plan the Ponngs had described for the wolfmen.
She was even more impressed when it worked.
Not perfectly, of course. Even Trake’s plans had seldom worked perfectly, and Trake was as clever and street-smart as anyone.
In this case, the problem came when the stick hornet drone operator turned out to have a guard. That was followed by a lot more flailing than Nicole had expected as the two Ponngs tried to keep them from alerting the rest of the group.
Fortunately, Nicole had brought the captured wolfman drone along, and was able to get the paralyzing cords far enough out of their sheaths to stun both stick hornets. In the end there was no alarm, and no injuries on either side.
On the plus side, the plan got an unexpected bonus when Wesowee suddenly declared he wanted a quick swim in the river. The presence of a big, lumpy alien in the middle of their war zone brought fighters from both sides of the river to stare, which helped divert their attention from the quiet fight.
Twenty minutes after the Ponngs first led the way into the grass the little group was back at their exit door with the controller. A little experimentation, and they soon had the associated drone flying to them. Three minutes after that, Wesowee having completed his swim and joined them, they were back in the corridor, the Ponngs each with a drone tucked under an arm.
“And now?” Teika asked.
Nicole looked around. The biggest danger had been the chance that the Shipmasters would be waiting for them when they emerged from the arena. But there was no one in sight: no Shipmasters, no Wisps, no Koffren.
Did that mean Nicole had read them correctly and that her vague, hastily thrown-together plan was working? Or were they simply leery of tackling Nicole now that she had a pair of drone weapons? If so, they might be delaying while they gathered a bigger force to take them out.
Or they could be simply playing along, waiting for her to make a mistake that would play right into their hands.
Unfortunately, the only way to find out was to keep going.
“Wesowee was right earlier,” she said. “Taking the drones means we’re taking food away from both sides. I don’t like that any better than he does. Let’s see if we can do something about that.”
“I have food bars,” Wesowee offered eagerly.
“They probably can’t eat them,” Nicole said. “But there may be another way. Back in the Q4 arena Jeff and I found a place where the Shipmasters had cut into one of the food dispensers from the back so they could more easily control how much came out. They must have something like that here.”
“When we fought here, the food conduits fed into the grassland,” Moile reminded her.
“Right, but there’s clearly another system that goes directly to the hive, since that’s where they collect the drones, count them, and dump the right amount into each side’s bin,” Nicole said. “If we can find where they’re tapped in and mess with it, we might be able to give both sides enough food that they won’t need to fight.”
“Just because they don’t need to fight doesn’t mean they won’t,” Teika muttered.
“I know,” Nicole agreed reluctantly. “But all we can do is offer them the choice.”
“That’s very sad,” Wesowee said, his tone matching his words. “Fighting is terrible.”
“Yes, it is,” Nicole said. “So here’s what we’re going to do. Wesowee and I will head around the rear corridor and try to find where they’ve tapped into the food conduit. But first, Moile, we’ll find you and Teika an empty room where you can practice using the drones. Learn how they work, how to trigger the weapon, how to maneuver. That sort of thing.”
“Shouldn’t we stay together?” Moile asked. “Surely the Shipmasters are even now preparing a new attack.”
“We’ll be okay,” Nicole assured him. “You won’t be far away, and I’ll shout if we need you. But I don’t want you practicing out here in the open where someone might see you. It’s possible the Shipmasters haven’t figured out we have working drones, and if they haven’t I want it to be a surprise.”
“Very well,” Moile said. He didn’t sound convinced, but as usual he was willing to accept Nicole’s orders. “Let’s go, then.”
“Yes,” Teika agreed grimly. “Before the Shipmasters deliver a surprise of their own.”
* * *
The corridor running along the rear of the arena was long and slightly curved. On the arena side, where much of the equipment for the air, food, and water systems was located, there were only a few doors. The other side had a few more, irregularly spaced along the wall. It was a pattern Nicole had seen a lot of on the Fyrantha, and on her first try found exactly the sort of room she was looking for.
“Is this another hive?” Wesowee asked, looking around at the orderly rows of cots laid out on one side of the large room and the low storage bins lining the other side.
“Something like that,” Nicole said. “I think it’s called a barracks. It’s a place where a lot of people can sleep together.”
“It’s not very private,” Wesowee said doubtfully.
“It’s not meant to be,” Nicole said. “Okay, this looks good. You can probably start by flying the drones around, figure out what all the controls do—”
“We understand how to approach this task,” Moile said.
“Right,” Nicole said. “Sorry. We’ll come back and get you when we’re finished fixing the food supplies.”
“But also listen for Nicole to shout,” Wesowee added. “If the Shipmasters find us, we’ll need your assistance.”
“We’ll be ready,” Teika said. He laid his drone on the nearest bed, peered at the controller, and touched a green spot. The drone lifted a few inches—
“You can go,” Moile said. “Unless you feel we need you to watch over us.”
“That doesn’t sound very polite,” Wesowee said, a little uncertainly.
“No, he’s right,” Nicole said, wincing a little. She’d always hated it when Trake had someone sit on her when she was learning something new, whether it was how to take a gun apart or even just how to pick a good lookout post. Hated and resented it, and she wasn’t surprised that the Ponngs felt the same way. “Sorry. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
A moment later they were back in the still-deserted corridor. “Adjusting the food supply may take some time,” Wesowee warned as Nicole steered them toward one of the doors on the far side. “I also understood that a special code may be required as to the proper mixture.”
“I know, and we might have to pass on that part,” Nicole said. “The main reason I wanted to get away from the Ponngs is that I want you to send a message to Kahkitah. Can we get to your secret phone system from here?”
“Of course,” Wesowee said, craning his neck to peer at the door indicators. “In there,” he said, pointing to the second one down.
The room turned out to be a pump room. “Memories,” Nicole said under her breath as she looked around.
“Pardon?” Wesowee asked as he worked his way through the cables and racks filling the rear section of the room and reached a pair of thick pipes running horizontally along the far wall.
“It’s like the room where I put Bungie after he got shot,” she told him. “So how does this work?”
“These are water conduits,” Wesowee said, pointing at the two pipes. “This”—he tapped a small box running between them—“is a temperature sensor.” Shifting the finger to a corner of the box, he flipped open the lid. At the bottom of the box, beneath a rectifier simplex, was a small adjustment screwdriver. Wesowee pulled it out and began tapping one of the rectifier’s connec
tion pins.
Nicole watched him, thinking about the old movies and TV shows she’d seen where someone used Morse code to send messages. Wesowee finished tapping and then pressed a finger against one of the other pins. “Could you hear?” he asked, looking back at Nicole.
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“Understandable,” Wesowee said, nodding. “There’s a sound, but it’s much higher in pitch than most other species can hear.”
“But Ghorfs can?”
“Actually, we don’t hear the sound so much as we feel it,” Wesowee said. “It creates a sort of tingling in the network of small bones that support our gill structure. It’s much clearer underwater than it is here, but this is adequate for our needs. Kahkitah has been called, and we need only wait for him to find an opportunity to—ah.” He broke off, shifting his finger and tapping the pin again. “He’s here. What’s your message?”
“Tell him I need him to send a couple of the Thii over here to me,” Nicole said.
Wesowee trilled an acknowledgment and started tapping. Nicole listened to the clicks, running the images of the four aliens through her mind. Insect-thin, narrow heads, thin limbs, four arms each, taller than the Ponngs but thinner. Nise was the leader of the group; Sofkat and Misgk were his two main soldiers, and—“Tell him to make it Nise and Iyulik.”
“Iyulik?” Wesowee asked, his birdsong voice sounding confused. “He’s the youngest and least experienced of all of them.”
“I know,” Nicole assured him.
“But if we’re going to fight the Shipmasters, shouldn’t we use the best soldiers we have?”
“Just send the message,” Nicole said, waving toward the box.
Wesowee gave the warble that was the Ghorf equivalent of a sigh and resumed tapping. He paused and again held his fingertip to the pin, and a moment later nodded. “Kahkitah acknowledges and promises to send the Thii to you as soon as possible. Is there any place in particular you’d like them to meet us?”
“Let’s try the other side of the Q3 arena—the side toward the front of the Fyrantha—on level 36.”
“That’s only four levels below the arena entrance level,” Wesowee reminded her. “A coordinated search would quickly locate them.”