Queen

by Timothy Zahn

  “I know,” Nicole said as the Wisps joined her. “Wisps: stand side by side and stretch your arms out in front of you, waist high.”

  They did so. Nicole motioned to Jeff, and together they carefully lifted Moile from the floor and set him across their arms. “You and I will be carrying Teika?” Jeff asked.

  “For now,” Nicole said. “As soon as we’re out in the corridor I’ll call for more Wisps. Hopefully, enough of them will show up that we can hand him off to them.”

  For once, one of her plans worked as she’d hoped. They’d made it to the next cross-corridor when six Wisps appeared in answer to her call. She and Jeff handed off their burden, the Wisps confirmed that they understood her order to take the injured Ponngs to Allyce, and the whole crowd glided their way toward the heat duct.

  “What’s the plan?” Jeff asked quietly as he and Nicole watched the others go.

  Nicole gazed at the injured Ponngs, her throat tight and aching. If you will provide for my people, Moile had said when she first met them back in the Q3 arena, I will be your slave. So will Teika, if you wish it.

  Nicole hadn’t wanted slaves. She still didn’t. Whatever the Ponngs called themselves, she’d never used that word, even in her own mind. She’d always thought of them instead as allies, maybe even friends.

  And allies and friends were supposed to look out for each other.

  “We’re going to find out what happened,” she said. “And we’re going to rain hell on whoever did this.”

  “Agreed,” Jeff said darkly. “Where do we start?”

  “Where everything always seems to end up,” Nicole said. The procession of Wisps disappeared around a corner, and she turned toward the animal treatment room. “We’re going to have a little chat with Caretaker Ushkai.”

  * * *

  They found the familiar hologram waiting as they made their way between the rows of treatment cages. “About time,” Nicole called as they approached. “Where the hell were you the last time I was here?”

  “I was told to not speak with you,” Ushkai said.

  “Really,” Nicole said. “Told by who? The Shipmasters?”

  There was a brief hesitation. “I was told by the Oracle.”

  “So who told the Oracle? The Shipmasters?”

  “No one told the Oracle,” Ushkai said. “The Oracle spoke for itself.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. You would have to ask the Oracle itself.”

  “Yeah, if I could find it I would,” Nicole growled. “Never mind. What happened to the Ponngs back in that supply room? And don’t tell me you don’t know.”

  “Of course I know,” Ushkai said. “Your fellow humans found them and beat them.”

  Nicole felt her mouth drop open. What in the world? “That’s crazy. None of us would attack them. They’re our helpers. Our friends.”

  “They’re not friends to all of them.”

  “But—”

  “Oh, damn it,” Jeff bit out. “He’s talking about Bungie.”

  Nicole bit down hard on the curse that wanted to come out. Of course it was Bungie. Bungie, and Trake, and all the rest of the Trake’s worthless gang. “Which means it was the Koffren,” she said.

  “Well, they’re the ones who sprung them,” Jeff said. “So, yeah, probably.”

  “I guess we’ll just have to find them, won’t we?” Nicole said. “Where are they, Ushkai?”

  Ushkai paused again. Thinking? Listening? “They await you on level 36 near Q3 heat-transfer duct access door four,” Ushkai said. “They will speak with you there.”

  “Will they, now?” Nicole said. “And what the hell makes them think I’ll show up?”

  “They have one you care about,” Ushkai said hesitantly.

  Nicole frowned. “Who?”

  “They don’t understand—”

  “Who?” Nicole screamed. A sudden, horrible premonition of what he was going to say …

  “The Wisp,” Ushkai said. “The one you call Cambria.”

  No! Nicole filled her lungs to scream again.

  The scream never came. Suddenly, unexpectedly, the blazing anger and rage and helplessness swirling like storm clouds inside her vanished.

  And in its place was a dark, hard, frozen resolve.

  “I see,” she said, almost wincing at the complete lack of emotion in her voice. “Well. I guess I’m going to Q3. You coming, Jeff?”

  “Of course,” Jeff said. “We’ll just stop by the hive first and check on the Ponngs, okay?”

  Nicole smiled. Yes; they should check on the Ponngs. They should probably check on Allyce, too. And then they could go and make sure Trake and Bungie knew exactly what it was they were facing here.

  Before she killed them all.

  twenty

  Nicole hadn’t given numbers to the access doors into the various heat-exchange ducts. She hadn’t even counted them, for that matter. But she knew approximately where they were, and she certainly knew how to get to them.

  As it happened, she didn’t even need that much information. The moment the duct door closed behind her and Jeff, dropping them onto Q3 level 36, they could feel the flow of warm air coming steadily down the corridor from the front of the ship.

  “Looks like they figured out a way to get the access door open,” Jeff murmured.

  “Yes,” Nicole agreed, frowning. Shipmasters and Wisps could open the doors, and of course the Q1 Wisps obeyed the Shipmasters. No real mystery as to how Trake could get here.

  But every other time she’d crossed the ducts the doors had closed again as soon as she and her party were across. The flow of warm air here, though, suggested the door was sitting open. “And to keep it open.”

  “I gather that’s something new?”

  “I haven’t seen anyone else do it,” Nicole said. “Though on a ship this size, that doesn’t mean much.”

  “I suppose,” Jeff said. “This could be easier than I’d thought it would be.”

  “Maybe,” Nicole agreed cautiously. The hot air was still flowing across them, meaning the door was still open …

  “We doing this?” Jeff prompted.

  Nicole squared her shoulders. “Absolutely.” She turned to the two Wisps she’d commandeered to ferry them across from Q4. “Wait for us here, please. Jeff?”

  “Ready,” he said, hefting his spider gun. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about carrying this yourself?”

  She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

  It would be best if Jeff carried the weapon. Trake always assumed unarmed people were helpless, and she really wanted him to think of her that way right now.

  Besides, the only thing that he would hate more than losing to a woman would be losing to an unarmed woman. “Let’s go.”

  They were standing in front of an open vent door as Jeff and Nicole came around the corner: four figures, no more than a couple of feet from the edge of the vent, their bodies swaying a little with the gusts of hot air jostling them from behind.

  Nicole had guessed that Bungie and Trake would be there. She’d also assumed Cambria would be with them, since in Trake’s mind there was no point in taking a prisoner if you couldn’t terrorize him.

  What she hadn’t expected was that a Shipmaster would also be standing among them.

  Or rather, kneeling among them.

  She felt her stomach tighten as she and Jeff walked toward the little group. She’d seen a couple of Shipmasters without their armor once before, and even then, tense and terrified, she’d noticed how small and frail and helpless they looked. But this one had gone way past even that assessment. He was slumped forward, his face turned toward the deck, his kimono-style robe torn and wrinkled. Bungie was gripping his right arm at the elbow, and Nicole had the feeling that if he opened his hand the Shipmaster would collapse flat on his face.

  A second later Trake spotted them. “About time,” he called, the smugness in his voice matching the smugness in his expression as he gave Nicole half a wave
with his spider gun. “I was starting to think you didn’t think as highly of this thing as everyone said you did.”

  “I care about everyone aboard the Fyrantha,” Nicole said as she and Jeff continued toward them. “That’s what it means to be the ship’s Protector.” At least Cambria was standing tall and straight, unlike the Shipmaster, and apparently unharmed.

  Or so Nicole thought until Trake turned toward her and she saw that Cambria’s wings were pinned to its back by multiple spider shots. “You didn’t need to do that,” she said.

  “Probably,” Trake said with a casual shrug. “But it was fun. You remember fun, don’t you, Nicole? You used to be so good at it.”

  Nicole felt a flush of anger and embarrassment rise into her cheeks. Jeff was standing right there beside her, and she could guess what he probably thought Trake was talking about. For a second she froze, wondering if she should defend herself, or deny it, or just let it pass—

  “We’re not talking about Nicole,” Jeff put in calmly. “We’re talking about you. Most people where I come from would think it’s pretty damn cowardly to pick on someone who can’t fight back.”

  “Don’t really care what you think,” Trake said, flashing Jeff the kind of look Nicole had usually seen him reserve for rival gang leaders.

  “Fine with me,” Jeff said. “More interested in seeing what people do than what they think. So what’s this current farce supposed to prove?”

  “And you can shut your freaking mouth anytime,” Trake snarled.

  “Yeah, about that,” Jeff said casually. “You could come over here and try to make me.” He hefted his spider gun. “Course, I’m pretty sure I’m a better shot with this thing than you are.”

  “You want to try it?” Trake challenged, his eyes narrowed, his forefinger tapping on the side of his weapon. “Any time you want. Of course”—he half turned and peered down into the shaft behind them—“if you miss, you’re going to send someone a freaking long way down.”

  “I’ve got 50 percent chance that it’s you or Bungie,” Jeff pointed out.

  “Enough,” Nicole said, gesturing Jeff back. His awareness of her mental state and his verbal sparring had given her the minute she needed to regain control of herself. “You’ve got Cambria. Fine. You didn’t ask us here just to gloat. What do you want?”

  “Pretty boy said this wasn’t about you,” Trake said. “He’s wrong. We’re here to find out what kind of person you are, Nicole.”

  “Not the kind who has fun, we know,” Bungie put in.

  “Shut it,” Trake said. His voice was calm, and he didn’t even look at Bungie. Just the same, Bungie flinched as if Trake had hauled back to hit him. “Here’s the thing. Our new friends think you’re a sweetheart who’d never hurt a fly. I told them they were wrong, that you could be just as nasty as they are.”

  “So I’m wrong, and they’re wrong,” Jeff said. “Going to be your turn to be wrong next.”

  “I am going to shut you up, you freaking butt wipe,” Trake grated out.

  “We’re back to you making me,” Jeff pointed out. “I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

  Nicole felt her breath catch in her throat. Trake absolutely hated anyone picking at him this way, especially in front of any of his gang.

  And yet, he wasn’t doing anything. He wasn’t shooting at Jeff, or coming at him, or even sending Bungie to take a swing at him. Whatever he was planning, apparently he and Bungie needed to stay right where they were. “Yeah, this reminds me of all the fun you say we used to have,” she said. Time to get him to show whatever cards he was carrying. “Tell me what you want, or we’re leaving.”

  “You’re going to make a decision,” Trake said. “One of these helpless butt wipes is going over the edge today. You get to pick which one.”

  “You mean, pick which one dies? And why would I do that?”

  “Because if you don’t, all of them die,” Trake said, his voice suddenly low and deadly. “And I mean all three.”

  Beside him, Bungie twisted his head around to stare at his boss, his mouth dropping open. “Trake—?”

  “Shut it,” Trake bit out.

  Again, Bungie jerked back. A sudden image flashed across Nicole’s face, that of a dog she’d once seen flinching from its owner’s suddenly clenched fist.

  “Why do you think we’d care if Bungie took the long step?” Jeff asked.

  Bungie turned suddenly furious eyes toward Jeff. “You rat-ass bastard—”

  “I said shut it,” Trake said. “I won’t say it again.”

  “Sure, Trake,” Bungie muttered. “Sure.”

  “But hey, if he’s the one you want to drop, come on over and do it,” Trake said, gesturing to Nicole.

  Nicole clenched her teeth. Trake had always liked playing with his victims. The more terrified he could make them, the better. Threatening Bungie with instant death played right into that pattern.

  But what did he intend to accomplish by dragging in Cambria and the Shipmaster?

  “And we haven’t got all day,” Trake added. “Come on. Let’s get it over with.”

  Could he be setting her up for an ambush? But there wasn’t much of anything between her and Jeff and the open vent; no room doors that she’d be conveniently putting her back to as she approached them, and no concealing walls or other hiding places where the rest of his gang could be lurking.

  In fact, if that was the direction he was going, the perfect move would have been for his gang to come up behind her from the corridor they’d just left. Surreptitiously, she glanced over her shoulder.

  But there was nothing. None of his gang, none of the Koffren.

  So they weren’t trying to capture her? Were they trying to kill her, then? Hoping she’d let Trake lure her close enough for him to grab her and throw her down the shaft?

  And then, suddenly, she understood.

  “Wait here,” she murmured to Jeff, and started forward.

  “Nicole—” Jeff warned, taking a long step to her side.

  “No, it’s okay,” she said, gesturing him to stop. “They’re not going to hurt me. They don’t dare.”

  Jeff came to a reluctant halt. Nicole continued forward, watching Trake closely. He seemed surprised at first, but as she steadily closed the distance between them his expression changed to confusion, then suspicion, then gloating anticipation.

  She came to a halt a couple of steps in front of the group, half closing her eyes to protect them against the blast of hot air still streaming into her face. The force of the wind required her to lean slightly forward to keep from being pushed backward, bringing her a couple of extra inches toward Trake. “So,” she said. “One of you needs to die?”

  “Or all of them do,” Trake said. “That’s the deal.”

  “What if the one I pick is you?”

  Trake shook his head. “I’m not part of the bet.”

  “Yes, but I don’t know all the rules,” she reminded him. “I might break them without knowing it.”

  “Let’s make it clear,” he said, waving his spider gun across the three lined up beside him. “One of them has to die. You get to choose which.”

  “And then, what, you’ll push them down the shaft?”

  He smiled thinly. “The Koffren already know I’m a nasty-ass killer. They want to know if you are, too.”

  “So I’m supposed to push them?”

  “You push one, or I push all three,” Trake said. “And now you’re just stalling.”

  “Not really,” Nicole said. “I just wanted to make sure I’d figured it out right.”

  Trake’s eyes narrowed a little. “You mean about the one or the three?”

  “No, I mean about the real reason for this little game,” Nicole said. Almost …

  “I already told you—”

  “The Koffren want me out of the way,” she said. “But they’re worried about what Sam said about killing the Fyrantha’s Protector. So they’re thinking now that if they can get me to not be Protec
tor anymore, maybe they’ll have a shot at me without the Fyrantha making trouble for them.”

  Trake’s expression had gone rigid. Either the Koffren had told him, or he’d figured it out on his own.

  “The Protector is supposed to defend the ship and everything aboard it,” she continued. “So I guess the idea is that if I kill someone—not just let someone get killed because I can’t stop it, but actually and deliberately make someone dead—the Caretaker and Fyrantha will decide I’m not worthy of the title. Once that happens, they figure they’ll be free to do whatever they want with me.”

  Trake shook his head. “Bungie said you’d gotten smarter. Thought maybe he was just getting dumber. But he was right. Only you’re missing the big point.”

  Abruptly, he reached to his side and put his arm across Cambria’s chest. “And I figure that if you could stop a death and didn’t, that might be enough.”

  “I doubt it,” Nicole said. “But anyway, it’s already too late.” She lifted her arm and pointed back toward the corridor she and Jeff had come from a few minutes ago. “Firth! Hagert! Now!”

  Trake and Bungie both looked toward the corner, Trake lifting his spider gun and tracking in that direction—

  And as they did so, in the shaft behind them the two Wisps Nicole had called floated down into view, their wings curving as they angled toward the group at the edge.

  “The two humans,” Nicole ordered.

  Either Trake had a sudden premonition about what was happening, or else he saw something in Nicole’s eyes. He spun around, his body jerking as he saw the Wisp moving toward him, trying to bring his spider gun around.

  But there was no time. He was facing Firth, his gun arm stuck out to the side, when the Wisp wrapped its arms around him and froze him.

  Bungie, without any of Trake’s insight or reflexes, was caught flat-footed right where he stood.

  Nicole huffed out a breath. “Jessup, Lehigh, you can come down now, too,” she called up into the shaft. She moved over to Cambria and took its hand, leading it away from the shaft edge.

  Thank you, the Wisp said into her mind.

  You’re welcome, Nicole thought back. What were you doing there, anyway?