by Timothy Zahn
Gazen opened the door and went in. "Sit," he ordered, jabbing a finger at a chair near the back of the room. "There's someone who wants to meet you."
"Oh?" Jack asked, glancing around the empty room as he crossed to the seats.
"Where is he?"
"He'll be along in a moment," Gazen promised. "You did very well today. Very well indeed. Even I was impressed."
"Thank you," Jack said, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling unpleasantly as he sat down. What was the slavemaster up to this time?
"You particularly impressed one of our visitors, as well," Gazen went on. "So much so that he asked for a private meeting." Behind him the door opened, and one of the civilian bodyguards who'd been sitting in front of Dumbarton stepped in. He glanced around, then nodded back toward the door. A moment later, his two companions from the demonstration joined him, first the hawk-nosed, middle-aged man, then the second bodyguard.
And there was something in the older man's eyes that sent a shiver up Jack's back.
"Here they are now," Gazen said, a strange sort of sinister amusement lurking in his tone. "This, gentlemen, is Jack McCoy. Say hello, Jack."
"Hello," Jack said cautiously.
"And now say hello to Jack," Gazen invited. The hawk-nosed man took half a step forward. "Hello, Jack Morgan," he said quietly.
Jack felt the breath freeze in his lungs. He'd heard this voice before. Twice before. The first time was through Dumbarton's comm clip as he stood in the hot dirt of Iota Klestis. The second time was from behind glaring lights in the luxury office aboard the Advocatus Diaboli.
It was the man he'd called Snake Voice. The man who had framed him for robbery, and then for murder, and then had forced him into his plan to kill Cornelius Braxton.
A man who'd also been present when Draycos's advance team was slaughtered by the Valahgua.
"Well, well," Jack said as calmly as he could. "Mr. Arthur Neverlin. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, sir."
CHAPTER 29
Neverlin's face didn't even twitch. But Gazen's did. Rather strongly, in fact.
"I thought you said he didn't know you," he said, flashing a glare at Neverlin.
"I said he'd never seen me," Neverlin corrected. "We have met, though, after a
fashion."
"Of course we've met," Jack said, with a heartiness he didn't especially feel.
So there it was, the connection he and Draycos had been searching for all this time: Arthur Neverlin, the Chookoock family, and the Malison Ring, an unholy alliance tied together with the Valahgua. "Didn't he tell you, Panjan Gazen?
He tried to kill Cornelius Braxton and take over Braxton Universis. That's why he's on the run now, from Braxton and most of the law enforcement agencies in the Orion Arm."
"As you can see, he's also been listening to Braxton's lies about me,"
Neverlin said, lifting his eyebrows at Jack. "I don't suppose he bothered to mention that I've been his chief troubleshooter for over twenty years. Or that I've pulled Braxton Universis out of trouble more times than you could count or that he could remember."
He leveled an accusing finger at Jack's face. "And while I'm slaving away running his empire, he's spending his time dabbling in his little charities and getting his picture taken with Internos politicians. I'm the one who keeps the company running. I'm the one who does the work. Why shouldn't I have the title and the authority?"
"Gee, I don't know," Jack said. "Maybe because it isn't yours?"
"That's rich, coming from a professional thief," Neverlin said scornfully.
"You've got a lot to learn about how the real world operates."
Jack grimaced. "You sound like Uncle Virge."
"No doubt," Neverlin said, turning to Gazen. "Speaking of whom, you say he's sitting on the ground at Ponocce Spaceport?"
"That's where their ship is, anyway," Gazen bit out, glaring blackly at Jack.
"I knew there was something bent about this whole thing. What do you think they're up to?"
"No idea," Neverlin said. "But we can figure that out later. Right now, the trick will be to actually get hold of the man. He's as slippery as greased ice."
"Why don't I send some Brummgas over there, backed up by some Djinn-90s?"
Gazen suggested. "He'll either come quietly, or he'll have his ship turned into Christmas tinsel around him."
Neverlin shook his head. "I want him alive and in one piece, not scattered across the Brum-a-dum landscape."
"He'll surrender," Gazen insisted. "What other choice will he have?"
"I don't know," Neverlin said. "But it's not wise to underestimate Virgil Morgan. I did that a couple of months ago, to my regret."
He shrugged. "Still, the game goes on. And we do hold an important pawn. You said he's been treated?"
Gazen looked at Jack. "Actually, we're not sure," he said carefully. "The, uh—"
"If you're talking about the poisoned food, the answer is no," Jack offered.
"I didn't eat any of it."
Gazen's eyes narrowed. Neverlin merely smiled. "As I said, slippery. Both of them."
He lifted a finger, and one of the two bodyguards stepped forward. "But the time for subtlety is past," Neverlin went on. "We'll pour some of it down his throat, then call his uncle and have a little chat."
"Wait a second," Jack said hurriedly as the bodyguard got a none-too-gentle grip on his upper arm and hauled him to his feet. "You don't have to do this. Let me call Uncle Virge and tell him what you're planning. I'm sure he'll be happy to talk with you."
Neverlin smiled thinly. "Thank you for the kind offer. But I've already seen what happens when I let you set the terms of a deal." He gestured, and the bodyguard started toward the door, pulling Jack behind him. "No, you're the sort of untrained puppy who does best with a good solid leash attached."
The second bodyguard pulled the door open. "These two are going to the medical suite," Gazen informed the two Brummgas waiting outside the room, gesturing at Jack and the bodyguard. "You'll escort them there. I'll call the doctor and give him his instructions."
"And when he's ready, take him to my shuttle," Neverlin put in.
"Just a minute," Gazen said, holding out a hand. "I'm sorry, Mr. Neverlin, but you can't do that."
"Morgan won't just meekly give in," Neverlin said patiently. "He'll attempt a rescue or some other equally insane thing. We don't want him to know exactly where the boy is."
"Then we'll hide him somewhere on the grounds," Gazen said firmly. "He's still Chookoock family property."
"Fine," Neverlin said disgustedly. "Then I'll just buy him. All right?"
"I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that, either," Gazen said. He looked uncomfortable, but his voice was firm. "We've offered him for sale and asked for bids. I can't sell him—to you or anyone else—without giving an equal chance to all those bidding. It's strict Chookoock family policy."
"Then the Chookoock family had better learn when to make exceptions,"
Neverlin warned. His voice was quiet, but there was a dark menace sliding beneath it like a shark in murky waters. "Or had you forgotten what's at stake here?"
"Maybe he's just wondering if your side is really the smart one to bet on,"
Jack murmured.
Neverlin favored him with a tight smile. "How little you know," he said softly.
"But you'll learn. As will the rest of the Orion Arm." He looked back at Gazen.
"Remind your superiors of the power they stand to gain. And then I will take the boy out of here."
Gazen's lip twitched. "I'll give them the message," he said. "But that's all I
can do."
Neverlin snorted. "Underlings," he said contemptuously. "Fine; I will talk to them. Take me there."
"As you wish." Gazen threw a dark look at the Brummgas. "What are you waiting for? I told you what to do. Do it."
"Yes, Panjan Gazen," one of them said. "Come, humans."
The Brummgas led the way back across the entryway ch
amber. "And here we go,"
Jack commented, glancing part way over his shoulder. The bodyguard was following behind him, staying a cautious three steps back. Too far away for Draycos to get to, at least not without being seen. "It might not be a bad idea for you to think about which side you're on, either," he suggested.
"I'm on the right side," the bodyguard countered calmly. "You will be, too, in a
couple of minutes."
They reached the far side of the chamber and headed into a deserted corridor Jack had never been down. "I just thought you might want to reconsider," he went on, glancing over his shoulder again. Aside from their little group, he couldn't see anyone else in either direction. This was probably the best chance he and Draycos would have. "You too, of course," he added, turning around to look at the Brummgas on either side of him. "Lucky for you, the Chookoock family isn't the only one hiring on Brum-a-dum."
"He's a talky one, isn't he?" the bodyguard grunted.
"All you humans are talky," one of the Brummgas growled. "He is one of you.
You keep him quiet."
"You hear that?" the bodyguard said. Jack held his breath; from the sound of the voice, he could tell the man was moving forward, closing the gap between them.
"Shut it off, or we'll do it for you."
"Oh, come on," Jack argued. "Freedom of speech comes right after the preamble in the Internos Constitution—"
"I said shut up," the bodyguard snarled. He stepped up behind Jack and gave him a hard slap across the side of the head for emphasis—
And Jack was shoved forward as Draycos boiled up out of the back of his shirt.
Even as he tried to catch his balance there was a crack of K'da scales against human skin from behind him. An instant later, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the dragon arcing overhead toward the two Brummgas.
And as the bodyguard landed on the floor with a thud, Draycos caught the Brummgas' heads between his forepaws and slammed them together. The two aliens collapsed, sprawling into an untidy heap.
"Easy," Jack warned, glancing quickly around. Just ahead on the right was a door marked Storage. "Those helmets of theirs aren't all that strong."
"I needed to make certain they were unconscious," Draycos said grimly, crouching low to the floor. "Besides, one of them helped whip the other slaves. I could smell Wistawki blood on him."
"Ah," Jack said, trying the storage room door. It was unlocked. "Is revenge part of the K'da warrior ethic?"
"We are authorized to deliver justice," Draycos said, hooking one of the Brummgas by the tunic and dragging him into the storage room.
"I know that," Jack said, crouching beside the Brummga and starting to unfasten his jacket. "So was this one justice or revenge?"
"Perhaps a combination of both," Draycos conceded, going back for the other Brummga. "Odd. I have never felt the desire for revenge before."
Jack frowned as he dumped the Brummga alongside his companion. "Not even with the Valahgua slaughtering your people?"
"I have felt fear, and courage, and resolve," Draycos said, the tip of his tail making slow circles in the air as he added the bodyguard to the pile of unconscious bodies. "But I have never acted so strongly from revenge before."
"Probably too much time spent with us emotionally impulsive humans," Jack grunted, pulling off the first Brummga's jacket. It was heavier than it looked.
"Or with Uncle Virge. Revenge and profit were Uncle Virgil's two main reasons for doing anything. Help me get this on, will you?"
"Wearing this will not allow you to masquerade as a Brummga," Draycos warned as he took most of the weight of the jacket on his forepaws.
"Not in here, no," Jack said. "But outside in the dark it might be good enough.
Especially while I'm sitting in one of those cars they use to move slaves around."
"We do not need a car," Draycos pointed out. "Remember the military transports.
We can send one to crash into the gate, then follow in a second."
"Sounds like a plan," Jack agreed, unfastening the Brummga's helmet and pulling it off. "But first I want to check and see if Noy's all right."
"I see," Draycos said, his voice carefully neutral.
"You think that's a bad idea?" Jack challenged.
"On the contrary," the dragon said softly. "It is a very courageous idea. One that is worthy of a K'da warrior."
"In other words, recklessly stupid," Jack grunted, trying the helmet on for size. It was way too big, of course, but in the dark it should do. "I've been spending too much time with you, I guess. Come on, let's get out of here."
CHAPTER 30
There were no guards watching the cars. Jack helped himself to one, and they headed across the Chookoock family grounds.
No one challenged them, either from the house or from the hidden guard posts, and soon they were through the gap in the thorn hedge. With Draycos directing, they arrived at Noy's isolation hut.
It was empty.
"He has not been gone long," the dragon said, sniffing at the air and the cot.
"Four hours, perhaps five."
"The empty juice bottles are still here," Jack said, peering under the cot.
"If the Brummgas had hauled him away, they'd probably have taken those along to try to figure out where they came from."
"Agreed," Draycos said. "Perhaps Noy decided he was recovered enough to return to the others."
"Maybe," Jack said. "As long as we're out here anyway, we might as well check."
The meal hall was brightly lit as they arrived at the edge of the slave colony.
The evening meal, clearly, was in full swing.
"Okay," Jack said, shedding his borrowed Brummgan armor and dumping it in the back seat. "We do this nice and cool. As far as any of them knows, there's no reason why I shouldn't be back." Crossing the empty ground, he walked into the meal hall.
It was like stepping back into a bad dream. Or, more accurately, like stepping from one part of a bad dream into another. The sights, the sounds, the smells—all of it came rushing back like a multiple slap in the face.
Even in the few days he'd been away, he'd managed to forget the squalor these slaves lived in. The squalor, and the filth, and the hunger.
And the hopelessness.
"To your left, one table back," Draycos murmured in his ear. "Seated beside Maerlynn."
"I see him," Jack murmured back. Noy was there, all right, looking tired but otherwise mostly recovered. Ready to go back to picking rainbow berries and making money for the Chookoock family.
For the rest of his life.
And as Jack thought about that, he felt something stirring inside him. A
strange sort of anger, of a kind he'd never felt before.
This was no place for a child. No place at all.
"You will go see if he is all right?" Draycos prompted.
"Sure," Jack said, heading that direction. The Jantri twins were there, too, sitting across from Noy and Maerlynn. They looked too tired to even talk. One of them—Grib—had a slapstick welt across his forehead.
And the stirring anger inside Jack started to burn with a white-hot glow.
"Yeah, we'll check him out," he told Draycos. "And then we're going to get him out."
"What?" the dragon asked, sounding startled. "Are you saying—?"
"Jack!" Maerlynn exclaimed as she caught sight of him. "Welcome back. We've been wondering where you were." "Sorry," Jack said, stepping to a spot between the twins. Greb had a fresh slapstick welt too, he saw now, angled across his shoulder. Fleck, or the Brummgas, must have been in especially good form today. "I got delayed. How are you feeling, Noy?"
"Okay," the boy said, smiling wanly up at him. "A little tired, but mostly okay."
"Good," Jack said. "Then go get your things together. We're leaving."
"What do you mean?" Maerlynn asked, frowning. "Her Thumbleness doesn't want him, too, does she?"
"I mean we're leaving this place," Jack said. "Out past the
wall. To freedom."
The conversation at the nearby tables had faded away. "Jack, are you feeling all right?" Maerlynn asked, her forehead wrinkling as she stretched out a hand toward his cheek. "Here, let me see—"
"I'm not sick," Jack told her, pushing her hand roughly aside. "And I'm not hallucinating. I'm leaving. Right now. And I'm taking Noy with me."
"Wow," Noy breathed, his eyes wide. "Just like he said."
"Jack, you can't just walk out of here," Maerlynn said carefully. "They'll whip you for even trying. They may even kill you."
"They can take their best shot," Jack said. "It won't do them a scrap of good."
"Jack, you're scaring everyone," Maerlynn said, her voice low. "Please. Stop."
Abruptly, Jack realized that the whole room had gone dead quiet. Lifting his gaze, he looked around.
They were all looking back at him. All the slaves. Sitting silently, their meager meals forgotten. Most of the faces held scorn, he could see, or simple flat-out disbelief. Some of them, like Maerlynn had said, were clearly frightened by Jack's attitude.
Scorn, or disbelief, or fear.
But no hope.
They had been here too long, he realized. Whatever hope they might ever have had, Gazen and the Brummgas had burned out of them.
No, this was no place for a child. It was no place for anyone.
And it was about time someone did something about that.
"I'm leaving," he called, raising his voice so that it could be heard throughout the whole room. "Tonight. Anyone else hate this place enough to go with me?"
"You're a fool," an Eytra growled from two tables over. "Many have tried.
None have succeeded."
"Then I guess Noy and I will be the first," Jack said. "Does that mean you're not coming?"
"Jack, this isn't funny," Maerlynn said in a low voice. "Noy's parents tried to escape. They died. The Brummgas beat his father to death. Can't you see that all this is doing is bringing back horrible memories?"
"It's not bad to have memories, Maerlynn," Noy said. He was looking up at Jack, an oddly intense expression on his face. "Memories anchor us to the past, give us a sense of the present, and point the way to the future."