"We'll protect you," said Folcrum. "And when the lexicons are safe, we will find your friends."
He squeezed her shoulder sympathetically, but she only felt resentment at being used. If he really cared what happened to her shipmates, why would he only offer to help them when he was done using her for his own purposes?
For that matter, what guarantee did she have that he would even help her then? Or that he and his comrades would be in a position to help at that point?
Unfortunately, she depended on that help even more than she had first thought. Since running off with Folcrum, she had planned to abandon him on the surface and search for her friends…but upon thinking it through, she realized just how difficult that could be.
On her own, even with the weapons she had, she probably wouldn't last long. She would immediately stand out in any crowd and would be vastly outnumbered; she couldn't hope to fend off every bloodthirsty Vox if a mob swarmed her like the one in the tower.
Not only that, but she knew so little of the city's layout, chances were slim that she could even locate Captain Swift and the others on her own. Once she found them, freeing them would be another hurdle (if they were even still alive by then); no doubt, she would face a contingent of guards who were at least as well armed as she was.
On top of all that, she would have to beat the clock. Though she had lost track of time, she knew there weren't many hours left until the invasion fleet reached Vox. The fleet's intentions were unknown, but she had no desire to be on the planet when it arrived in orbit.
The conclusion was inescapable and unsettling: she couldn't do without the help of the lexicons. Her fate, the fate of the rest of the away team, the fate of the lexicons marked for death – even the fate of the whole world – lay in their hands.
The same hands that wouldn't take a weapon into combat against a troop of heavily armed Free Speakers.
Not for the first time that day, Mariko was overwhelmed by a feeling of hopeless foreboding. She was tired of it -- tired of being used…tired of being at the mercy of strangers…tired of remaining silent…just plain tired.
And she had such a long way to go before she could rest.
At the end of the cactus-lined path, Folcrum led her to a hut with walls of red bamboo and a roof of thatched crimson fronds. When he opened the door and ushered her inside, she found herself immersed in aromatic steam.
"Breathe deeply," he told her, "and slowly. Give yourself time to absorb it before breathing out."
The steam was thick and smelled of concentrated honey and warm milk. In the middle of the hut, she saw its source – a stand of chest-high plants topped with glowing purple cups like the pods of poppies, emitting plumes through the holes in their sieve-like caps.
She took a deep breath and held it in her lungs, then released it. She felt fine…but the next breath left her dizzy.
After the third breath, she felt herself losing consciousness.
Tricked me, she thought as she collapsed to the dirt floor. Damn you.
And then, as it turned out, she didn't have such a long way to go before she could rest after all.
*****
Chapter Twenty-Three
J'Tull's hands slid over the surface of the tube, pulled toward the edge by the weight of her body. As she fought to overcome gravity and drag herself up, the sound of the approaching sled drew closer.
Whether she slid off or was pushed off by the sled, she knew that she would fall in a matter of seconds.
She knew something else, too. This time, there was nothing below to break her fall. She dangled from the lowermost tube in that section of the network; the only thing between her and the ground was open air.
Though she was only three stories up, a fall from that height would still be enough to kill her. The end of her life was only a few heartbeats away.
Part of her was resigned to that fate. She had always known the risks of serving onboard Exogenesis; perhaps more than any other member of the crew, she had been aware of the dangers the star cruiser faced in exploring that quadrant of the galaxy. Dying like this, in the line of duty, was not an unexpected outcome.
Another part of her, though, refused to accept it. It was that part that conceived a last-ditch plan in the last split seconds before the sled ran over her.
She never knew where she found the burst of strength. She was so worn down that it didn't seem possible that any strength remained in her body.
But somehow, when she needed it most, it came to her.
At the last possible instant, just before the sled glided over her, she pulled away her right hand. The weight of the sled crushed her left hand, but it also stopped her backward slide and held her in place.
The bones in her left hand crunched like gravel under the sled. The pain was so great that she cried out…but she never lost her focus.
As the tail of the sled passed her, the pinned hand was released. Before she could slide from the tube, J'Tull lashed out with her right hand and grabbed hold of a metal bumper projecting from the sled's tail.
Though she had not been sure that the sled would support her weight, she didn't pull it from the span or even slow it down. As the sled coasted forward, she went with it, hanging by one hand…the rest of her body dangling from the tube.
When the sled's pilot looked back and saw her, she knew that she had to move. The creature could do any number of things to dislodge her, from backing up into another sled to shaking her loose with sudden stops and starts.
J'Tull swung back and forth from the bumper, gathering momentum with each swing. Finally, she swept forward and up, landing one leg on the skid alongside the sled.
As the pilot reached back to try to shove off the leg, J'Tull flung up her other leg and kicked the creature in the head. Twisting around, she managed to bring her hip onto the skid; though her left hand was now useless, she drove her left elbow into the Vox's knee.
Keeping one hand on the sled's joystick, the creature shot out its other hand and grabbed J'Tull's ankle when she tried to administer another kick. Before she could thrash her leg free, the Vox sank its teeth into her bare foot, piercing the tissue from above and below.
J'Tull choked back a cry as the pilot's jaws clamped down, then released. Before the Vox could bite down again, she wrenched the foot back and pumped it into the creature's face.
As she kicked the Vox again, J'Tull looked ahead. Preoccupied with self-defense, the pilot didn't seem to be paying much attention to the sled's heading; the craft was gliding at a fast clip toward a building at the end of the tube, barely twenty meters distant.
At first, the possibility of a collision alarmed J'Tull. Then, she decided that it could work in her favor.
Bracing both feet on the skid, she let go of the bumper. Quickly, she reached up to grab hold of the pilot's backrest…then hoisted herself up, squeezing in behind the creature.
Screeching, the Vox turned and slashed at her with its claws. Shielding herself with her left arm, J'Tull caught a fistful of the Vox's fur with her right hand and yanked it hard. As the creature threw back its head and howled, she tugged harder and twisted her fist.
The Vox's hand must have clenched on the accelerator control on the joystick, for the sled picked up speed. Satisfied with the result of her attack, J'Tull pulled the fur even harder, hoping for more velocity.
Instead, the Vox released the joystick and the sled slowed. Lunging around, the creature slashed wildly at J'Tull with both sets of claws, drawing blood from her chest and shoulders as well as her upraised left arm.
In response, she drew back her right arm and punched the Vox in the face. Stunned, the creature stopped slashing and shook its head…and J'Tull slugged it again.
The pilot's eyes rolled up in their sockets. The Vox squealed and slumped atop her, unconscious.
J'Tull wrestled out from under the creature and stretched forward. Grabbing the joystick, she depressed the largest stud on the control surface as far as it would go.
The sl
ed jumped forward, accelerating toward the building at the end of the span. As the transparent wall hurtled toward her, J'Tull ducked her head. She hoped that she had correctly calculated what would happen when the sled hit; if the wall held fast, the sled would smash on impact or bounce off, throwing her down three stories to the ground. Death, though deferred, would still claim her.
Whatever happened, at least she knew that she had done everything in her power, and then some, to survive this ordeal and rescue her shipmates. She could feel redeemed, at least to a small degree, for having failed to save the away team in the tower.
Not that she worried about failure or redemption, of course. It would not have been logical.
Unsure of the exact instant when the collision would occur, J'Tull held her breath. She kept the accelerator stud jammed down and the sled continued to race forward.
When it finally hit, there was surprisingly little impact. J'Tull heard a loud crack as the vehicle's nose punched through the polymer wall…and then the sled crashed down onto the floor inside the building.
Propelled by the momentum of its run along the tube, the sled skidded and spun over the floor. J'Tull was ejected from the careening craft and tumbled across the room; she stopped herself in time to see the sled slam to a halt against a far wall.
She had made it. If asked, she would have denied it – but she was surprised to be alive after her ordeal on the tubes.
Breathing heavily, she dragged herself up onto her knees. Though she was in dire need of rest, she had to keep moving; she did not know how long it would be until the Vox swarmed into the building to apprehend her…and she was equally concerned that her complete physical collapse was imminent.
With great effort, she got to her feet. A spiral transit pole, like the one she had scaled through a building to get to the tubes, rose from the center of the floor; she limped toward it, favoring the foot that the Vox had bitten through on the sled.
Taking hold of the pole with her undamaged right hand, J'Tull looped one leg around it…then swung the other leg over and began her descent. As she slid down the winding pole, she spun around it, following the spiral design of the axis.
This time, as she moved from one level of the building to the next, no one bothered her. In fact, she did not see a soul on any of the floors that she passed.
She found the same deserted conditions when she reached the ground floor and stepped outside. Though she had expected to be welcomed by a mob of attackers, she found no one in the street; she hobbled toward the city limits unmolested, wondering where everyone had gone.
She soon found out.
Looking through the transparent buildings at the edge of the city, she could see the open field beyond. The gray roof of the podcraft was visible, thirty meters or so into the field…but only the roof. The rest of the shuttle was concealed by a crowd of Vox.
J'Tull stopped at the last corner before an alley leading to the field. She could hear the assembled Vox chanting something – the same familiar word, repeated again and again.
"Ruhala! Ruhala!"
Back in the tower, Mariko had said that it meant "death."
"Ruhala!"
Observing the crowd from her position, J'Tull saw that it was not as large as the mob she had avoided in the park. Though it was impossible to count the bodies accurately from where she stood, she estimated that about fifty Vox were gathered around the podcraft.
J'Tull could see that many of the Vox were armed with clubs and knives…and some carried rifles. The ones with the rifles were posted at intervals around the perimeter of the field and scanned their surroundings vigilantly; J'Tull guessed that they might be members of the military.
On the face of it, the Vox had the advantage in terms of numbers, weapons, and more. J'Tull was alone and unarmed, as well as injured and exhausted.
Nevertheless, she was determined to get inside the podcraft. She had come through so much to get there, and now she was so close; she could not accept that any other outcome was possible, though her logical mind told her otherwise.
The only way to succeed was to believe that the impossible was possible. This, she realized, was both illogical and logical at once.
Taking a deep breath, J'Tull stepped around the corner. Raising her arms in a gesture of surrender, she limped along the alley toward the field.
Immediately, she caught the attention of one of the rifle-wielding guards. Chattering to its comrades, the guard started toward her, weapon raised and pointed in her direction.
Stopping at the end of the alley, where she still had limited cover from the buildings on either side, she waited for the Vox to reach her. When the creature had drawn to within a few meters of her, she collapsed on the ground.
J'Tull lay there, feigning unconsciousness, as the Vox's footsteps approached. The creature chattered, and its companions replied…their voices drawing near as they came to render assistance.
When J'Tull judged that the first Vox stood directly over her and the other armed guards had closed to within a few meters, she moved. Flicking her eyes open, she met the first creature's gaze; the Vox was leaning over her, staring down…the barrel of its rifle pointing to one side of her.
In a swift, sudden movement, J'Tull grabbed the rifle barrel and yanked the weapon out of the Vox's grip…then swung it back and up, pounding the butt of the gun against the side of the creature's head.
As the Vox dropped to the ground, she scrambled out of the way and leaped to her feet. Bracing the rifle against her shoulder, she fired three shots in quick succession, turning mechanically from one oncoming guard to the next.
She aimed low and struck each target unerringly, firing projectiles into kneecaps. All three of the armed Vox went down without firing a shot, crippled but not dead.
Then, without hesitation, J'Tull turned to the crowd surrounding the shuttle. Squeezing off one round after another, she knocked down five more Vox in similar fashion.
As the others dispersed, running in every direction, she hastened them with additional shots…until the rifle's ammunition was gone. When she squeezed the trigger and nothing happened, she tossed the weapon aside and ran full tilt for the shuttle.
The way was clear, but she knew it would not remain so for more than a few seconds. As soon as the Vox realized that she was unarmed and making a run for the shuttle, they would pour back in and overwhelm her.
Racing across the field, she made it to the pod and opened the hatch. Just as she was about to duck inside, she heard running footsteps and felt a heavy impact between her shoulders.
She fell into the shuttle and hit the floor, then rolled over in time to see a Vox charging toward her. On the ground, she saw the club that the creature had hurled at her.
Before she could grab hold of the hatch handle, the Vox leaped at her, claws extended. J'Tull drew back her knees and launched both legs at the Vox, kicking it in the chest and thrusting it to one side. The creature screeched and hit the ground, then scrambled toward the hatch, undeterred.
By then, J'Tull had managed to reach the hatch handle inside the shuttle. As she pulled the hatch shut, she saw the Vox lunging toward her…and a mob of the creatures bolting across the field behind it.
Then, the hatch sealed with a hiss.
J'Tull fell against a wall and slid to the floor. Trembling and heaving, she sat for a while and listened to the banging on the hull.
She would have to move the podcraft soon, or the mob might do some damage…but she needed to rest, if only for a few moments. For the first time in many hours, she was safe, at least temporarily.
And there was so much more to do. Her struggle was nowhere near being over.
First things first. She had to contact the Exogenesis immediately and notify the crew of her status. They would have to move quickly to locate and liberate the other members of the away team.
J'Tull fully intended to go directly to the communications equipment and contact the ship.
She would have made it, too, if s
he hadn't blacked out on the floor of the podcraft, dropping into unconsciousness despite the cacophonous clanging and scratching of the mob attacking the hull.
*****
Chapter Twenty-Four
Emanator pistol in hand, Martin marched down the corridor on F Deck.
There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that he shouldn't be there. As commanding officer of the Exogenesis, he belonged on the bridge, sorting out the chaos that had followed the explosion at the brig. He should have remained at his post and dispatched a security team to round up the escaped Vox.
At the very least, he should have brought a team with him for backup. What he was doing violated every regulation and bit of common sense in existence.
But Martin could not have cared less. No one could have talked him out of hunting down the creature alone…not that anyone had been crazy enough to try. The tone in his voice and the look on his face when he'd announced his intentions on the bridge had let everyone know that he would not be dissuaded.
This much, he could do.
He had not been able to rescue the away team. He had not stopped the Vox from linking up their spacecraft and executing their plan. He had not anticipated that the Vox he'd ordered brought onboard Exogenesis would be living bombs, each infused with a chemical agent that was harmless and inert until combined with the chemical agent that the other was carrying.
As a result, he had not been able to prevent the grave injuries to six of his men and the blinding of the ship's physician. He had not been able to prevent the damage to the ship, including the teleporter room…and was not now able to beam down a rescue team to the planet's surface.
But this much, he could do.
Whatever it took, he would do this one thing right today. He didn't care how it would look in his report or what it said about his command skills; he didn't care what anyone thought or said now or later. This was the one thing he would do right on this miserable day. This was the thing that would put him back on track.
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