by Timothy Zahn
"Your war?" Akim asked.
"You are our people, Miron Akim," Jin said. "Whatever our differences in the past, you're part of humanity. We aren't going to sit by and let some group of Trofts think they can pull off a stunt like this."
"And so you propose to challenge the invaders to single combat?" Akim asked. "How long do you think you would survive against a force this size?"
"I don't know," Jin admitted. "But I think we might all be surprised."
"Perhaps," Akim said. "But the question is moot. We cannot allow you to rampage through Sollas under no authority but your own."
"Then let us fight with you," Jin offered.
"Not without proof of your loyalty," Siraj interjected.
Akim inclined his head. "Unfortunately, my son is right. We seem thus to have arrived at an impasse."
"What if we could prove you can trust us?" Merrick spoke up.
"How do you propose to do that?" Akim asked.
"You've had me in this chair for over half an hour," Merrick said. "My mother's also been here for several minutes now, and you've spent most of those minutes threatening our lives. If we're on the Trofts' side, why haven't we taken out the whole bunch of you and escaped?"
Siraj snorted. "Against six Djinn? You boast overmuch of your strength, demon warrior."
"It's not boasting if you can do it," Merrick countered. "And you've never seen a Cobra in action before."
"I have," Akim said. "And you are boasting, Merrick Moreau. I know all of your weaponry, and where those weapons lie hidden within your body. With your ankles manacled to the chair, and your hands fastened behind you with your thumbs blocked from your fingers, you are indeed helpless."
"You boast in turn of your own cleverness, Miron Akim," Merrick said calmly. "Do you really think it's this easy to restrain a Cobra?"
Jin winced. This was not a good direction to be taking this conversation. "Merrick—"
"Quiet, Mother," Merrick cut her off, his gaze steady on Akim. "How about it, Miron Akim? My mother spoke of us being an asset to you. Shouldn't you at least see what Cobras are capable of before you decide whether or not to throw us away?"
Akim folded his arms across his chest, one thumb stroking thoughtfully across his lip. "An interesting challenge, demon warrior," he said. "What exactly do you propose?"
"Before your men can get their hands into firing position, I'll be out of this chair," Merrick told him. "I'll have my own hands pointed at the ceiling, as proof I intend no harm against any of you."
"You court serious danger," Akim warned. "What if my Djinn are faster than you realize?"
"I'm willing to take that risk," Merrick said. "At the very least, we'll find out what kind of soldiers they are. Do we have a deal?"
Akim cocked an eyebrow. "Very well," he said. "Djinn, arms at your sides. Let us make this a fair competi—"
Right in the middle of the word, Jin was rocked backward as a terrific blast from Merrick's sonic disruptor hammered through the room.
Even knowing that would be Merrick's first move, she was still nearly knocked off her feet. The Qasamans, taken completely by surprise, had it far worse. They staggered backward, grabbing for sections of wall or each other as they tried to keep their feet under them.
The blast was still reverberating when, in the center of the chaos, Merrick straightened convulsively in his chair, his back arching, his legs snapping upward against the shackles binding his ankles to the chair legs. For maybe half a second nothing happened; and then, with a multiple snap of breaking wood, the chair shattered beneath him, dropping him onto his back on the floor.
He rolled over the wreckage onto his stomach, and Jin got her first clear look at his shackles. They were like regular wrist cuffs, except that the chain connecting the loops had been replaced with a thick metal bar. There was also some kind of flange stretching up from each cuff across his palm, blocking his fingers and preventing him from bringing his hands into firing position.
But Merrick didn't even bother trying to bring his fingertip lasers into play. Stretching his arms as far away from his back as he could, he bent his left leg tightly at the knee and fired a blast from his antiarmor laser that vaporized the center of the bar. Pushing off the floor with his now freed hands, he leaped to his feet.
Someone across the room spat something, and Jin saw that one of the Djinn had gotten his balance back and was swinging his arms up into firing position. Merrick glanced over his shoulder at a spot on the ceiling behind him, bent his knees, and jumped. There was a blur of motion punctuated by two rapid-fire thumps as his nanocomputer executed a standard Cobra ceiling flip, first turning him halfway over to hit the ceiling feet first, then turning him another hundred eighty degrees to land upright on the floor.
And an instant later Merrick was standing behind Akim, his arms raised in the air. "Done," he called.
The Djinni ignored him. Still weaving with the aftereffects of the sonic, he brought his hands up in front of his chest. Squinting furiously, he cocked his thumbs against his ring finger nails.
"Hold!" Akim snapped. He looked a little unsteady himself, but his voice was rock-hard. "Djinni Ghushtre, stand down."
For a long moment Jin thought the younger man was going to ignore the order. He held his posture, his expression thunderous as he glared at Merrick. Merrick himself didn't move, his hands still pointed harmlessly upward, his body half shielded behind Akim.
"You heard Miron Akim," Siraj said into the brittle silence. "Stand down."
Slowly, reluctantly, Ghushtre lowered his hands. "That was not fair," he growled. "He cheated."
"Do you expect an enemy to play by rules of your choosing?" Akim countered. "Do you count on him to inform you of his plans before launching them?"
"This was not to be combat, but a test," Ghushtre insisted. "Tests do have rules, and you had not finished stating them."
"Then I am the offended one, not you," Akim said, his voice hardening. "And I choose to take a larger view than my own honor and pride."
Ghushtre snorted. "What can be higher than honor?"
Akim looked him squarely in the eye. "What is higher than honor," he said quietly, "is victory."
He turned to Jin. "Come, Jin Moreau," he said, gesturing toward the door he'd come in through. "You and your son. We need to speak."
The room Akim took them to was the size of a mid-rank Aventinian politician's office, only with a much smaller desk and six chairs facing it rather than the standard two that Jin was used to. There were no pictures or frames on the walls, either, the only decoration being two rows of video monitors, all currently blank. Possibly some kind of ready room, Jin decided as she followed Akim toward the desk. Maybe they were deeper into the Qasamans' secret labyrinth than she'd thought.
"Please; sit down," Akim said, gesturing to the row of chairs. He circled the desk and sat down behind it. "May I call for some refreshment?"
"No, thank you," Jin said, frowning at him. The cold, distrustful Qasaman from the other room had suddenly become calmer, even marginally friendly. Who are you, the old half joke ran fleetingly through her mind, and what have you done with the real Miron Akim? "You said we needed to speak?"
"If you truly wish to assist us, yes." Akim hesitated. "I should first apologize for our behavior out there." His lip twitched. "For my behavior out there."
"Not a problem," Merrick assured him. "We understand you had to play to your audience."
"Who, the other Djinn?" Jin asked, frowning. "I thought you were in charge of them."
"I was referring to the private audience," Merrick told her. "The ones watching on the hidden cameras."
Jin blinked. "There were cameras in the room?"
"Of course," Merrick said, as if it was too obvious even to mention. "Middle of the wall to my left and somewhere behind you. Probably the doorjamb."
"So the cameras weren't as undetectable as I was promised," Akim commented thoughtfully. "Interesting."
"Oh, I didn't actually
see them," Merrick said. "But when one's host glances at a couple of blank sections of wall two or three times in the same conversation, it's obvious what's going on." He raised his eyebrows. "From which I gather escaping from my cuffs really was a test?"
"Very good," Akim said with a wry smile. "You are indeed your mother's son."
Jin felt her cheeks warming. No, Merrick was his father's son on this one—quiet, calm, and with Paul's eye for detail. Jin herself, in contrast, seemed to have lost whatever limited combat sense she'd once had. She'd better get with the program, and fast.
"Yes, it was indeed a test," Akim continued. "Not for my benefit, as you've already surmised—I know perfectly well what you demon warriors are capable of."
"Cobras," Merrick corrected him mildly.
Akim inclined his head. "What you Cobras are capable of," he said. "But the Shahni had to be convinced of your abilities." He grimaced. "Convincing them that you're worthy of trust is another matter."
"Wait a minute," Jin said, fighting to get her brain back on line. Why was it so hard to think tactically anymore? "It was the Shahni who were watching? I thought the Trofts had them trapped in the Palace."
"What, with this whole rabbit warren underneath the city?" Merrick countered. "I doubt they set it up just so people could sneak out of hospital laundry rooms."
"In theory, you're correct," Akim said. "In practice . . . your mother has always thought of us as being paranoid, Merrick Moreau. Unfortunately, when the test came, we weren't paranoid enough."
Merrick threw Jin a sharp look. "You mean they're still in there?"
"Seven of the nine escaped," Akim said. "But all were slow to move, and those seven barely made it to the secret exit in time. The two who remained behind hoped to send out an alert to the rest of the planet and then sabotage the communications system. They were still performing that task when the invaders entered the Palace and cut off their escape."
"Do the Trofts know who they have?" Jin asked.
"The invaders don't actually have anyone," Akim corrected. "The Shahni were able to reach a hidden safe room, which the invaders haven't yet located."
"But it can only be a matter of time," Merrick said.
"True." Akim's lips compressed into a thin line. "Which is why I'm asking you to go into the Palace and bring them out."
For a moment, even Merrick's calm cracked. "You what?" he asked. "Us?"
"You're the only ones who can do it," Akim said heavily. "The only ones who can take the invaders by surprise."
"What about your own Djinn?" Jin asked. "If your son Siraj is any indication, a few of them should be more than capable of taking on a group of armed Trofts."
"If a commando raid was feasible, we would certainly mount it," Akim told her. "Unfortunately, such is not the case. We were forced to shut down the Palace escape route after the Shahni left, lest the invaders discover the entrance and find their way into the subcity. The only routes into or out of the Palace are now through the main doors."
"And your Djinn can't go in that way," Merrick said slowly, "because the Trofts would spot their power suits."
Jin frowned. "Their power suits?"
"Of course," Merrick said, looking puzzled. "How else did you think Carsh Zoshak and Siraj Akim made it down the laundry chute that way?"
"I just assumed—" Jin broke off in embarrassment. Her brain just wasn't working today. She must be more tired than she realized. "They're not Cobras?" she asked, turning back to Akim.
"That's indeed what we hoped to create," Akim said ruefully. "But even with—" He broke off.
Jin felt her throat tighten with memories. "With the bodies of my companions available to study?"
"As you say," Akim conceded. At least, Jin noted distantly, he had the grace to look pained. "Even so, we haven't been able to master the technique of adding ceramic to the bones and laying down the necessary array of optical control fibers. The creation and programming of the small subbrain computer also remains a mystery to us."
"So since you couldn't go inward, you went outward," Merrick said, nodding. "Hence, exoskeleton fighting suits."
"Exactly," Akim said. "The suits are made of treated krisjaw hide—extremely strong and resilient, with a fiber stiffening meshwork added throughout the longer sections to provide additional support. Servo motors similar to yours are situated at the major joints, which react instantly to the Djinni's movement in order to enhance his strength."
"And, of course, they've got metalwork lasers in the gloves," Jin said. "How are those aimed?"
"Each Djinni has small sensors implanted in his eye lenses," Akim said. "Wherever he looks, that's where the servo motors will aim and fire the lasers."
"Nice," Merrick said approvingly. "Not quite as versatile as our targeting locks, but a lot better than simple dead reckoning. Where's the computer that does all this?"
"In the collar and extending downward along the spine." His lip twitched. "It was thought that an attack strong enough to destroy the computer would probably also destroy whatever was beneath it."
Jin grimaced. And since a computerless Djinni was probably a soon-to-be-dead Djinni anyway, the two events might as well be simultaneous. "Do they have any other weapons?" she asked.
"They have a short-range sonic weapon designed to induce nausea and loss of balance," Akim said. "Dangerous to use in an enclosed space, as it may backfire on the Djinni himself." Akim inclined his head toward Merrick. "Unlike, apparently, the weapon you used. If I may ask, how did you successfully aim and fire your large laser at your restraints?"
"Actually, I cheated a little," Merrick admitted. "When the Djinn first brought the restraints into the room, it was obvious where they were going to go. So I simply put a target lock on the center of the bar."
"And your laser was able to fire without you being able to see it?"
"The servos give kinesthetic feedback positioning data to the nanocomputer," Merrick explained. "Once the target lock is on, I could hit the target with my eyes closed."
Akim shook his head. "Remarkable."
"We like it," Merrick said. "Anything else in the Djinn bag of tricks?"
"Their visual tracking method also permits them to accurately fire other weapons besides their glove lasers," Akim said. "They also carry small gas canisters for use in enclosed spaces, with filters already surgically implanted in their nostrils."
"What about their radios?" Merrick asked. "I assume that's what the Trofts zeroed in on back at the hospital."
"They have a transmission system copied from those used by the first visitors from your worlds." Akim grimaced. "We'd hoped they would prove as undetectable for our use as they'd been for yours."
"That would have been nice," Merrick said. "Unfortunately, you had no way of knowing that those particular gadgets came from our local Trofts."
"And so the invaders can detect them with ease," Akim said grimly. "That'll pose a serious problem."
"You still have that rock-layer waveguide system under the Great Arc, don't you?" Jin asked.
"Yes, but it only works for hard-wired communications between cities and villages," Akim said. "Mobile signaling between combat units cannot use it. Unless you have something newer we might be able to use?"
Merrick shook his head. "Most of our combat these days is against spine leopards, the things you call razorarms. Not much need for private communications with that."
"No matter," Akim said, his dark eyes flashing sudden fire. "If necessary, we'll fight the invaders without communications. If necessary, the Djinn can and will launch a massive frontal assault against the Palace."
"Of course they will," Merrick said hastily. "We understand that."
"We ask for your help only to prevent unnecessary and useless deaths," Akim insisted, almost as if he was trying to convince himself as much as he was Jin and Merrick.
"We understand," Merrick repeated. "Do you have a plan for getting me inside?"
"Wait a minute," Jin protested, feeling her ch
est tighten. "Shouldn't we at least think about this a little longer?"
"There's no time," Merrick told her. "The Trofts aren't just sitting around congratulating each other on a job well done. They'll be going through the place with a fine-mesh strainer, hunting up official papers and military data and anything else they can find. Sooner or later, they're going to find the safe room."
"I know that," Jin said, struggling to find the words that would express what she was feeling. This wasn't some carefully planned, carefully coordinated operation like those her grandfather had run during his own war against the Trofts. It wasn't a quick hit-and-hit against a group of inexperienced Troft merchants, either, like the little adventure she herself had survived three decades ago. This was a full-blown invasion force, with real soldiers and real military weapons. Couldn't Merrick see that?
"Mom, we have to do this," Merrick said quietly. "Remember what Carsh Zoshak said back in the hospital, that the Qasamans had to either trust us or kill us? Well, that works both ways. Either we prove we're trustworthy, or we can't ask them to risk giving us their protection."
Jin stared at him. At the grimness in his face, but also the underlying excitement behind his eyes.
And slowly, she understood. Of course he could see the terrible danger he was facing. But he didn't care. The people of Aventine had all but rejected the Cobras, with many in the government trying to marginalize them, phase them out, or shunt them off to Caelian where they could be ignored. Merrick had watched in frustration as his chosen profession—indeed, his entire family history—had been increasingly brushed aside by people who hadn't the faintest idea what Cobra commitment and sacrifice had meant to their own safety and security.
But that wasn't how the Qasamans saw it. Right here, right now, Merrick was both appreciated and needed. After years of suffering beneath the contempt of people like Governor Treakness, that had to feel good.
And on top of all that, this was the first chance her eldest son had ever had to show what the Cobras were capable of. Down deep, Jin knew that he wasn't going to let that chance pass him by. No matter what stood in his way.