Somehow that didn’t come out sounding quite right.
“All right, so stop complaining and hold still.”
Valerian’s mouth was dry. He didn’t mind facing danger. He minded facing danger with an empty weapon. Major Gibson’s voice sounded in his ear.
“You’ve been detected,” the major was shouting. “Split up!”
Splitting up was pretty much impossible at the moment. Valerian’s heart jumped into his throat as he saw that the wounded Pit-Ghor heading for him had company. Some of his buddies had also recovered sufficiently to get to their feet and were closing in on Valerian.
“There’s three of them now!” he told the major. “I can’t hold them much longer.”
“A few more seconds, Major,” Laureline chimed in. Her fingers were flying over the snake pit of wires, and her face was still and set in concentration.
“Attack!” shouted a guard.
Laureline snapped the case closed. Her eyes blazed as she looked into Valerian’s.
“You’re good!”
“Thanks!”
Even as he spoke he was rolling to one side, dodging the attack from the first Pit-Ghor. It overshot him and wheeled around, lunging at the oh-so-tempting Sleeve with its fangs bared. Valerian stopped breathing as he jabbed his fingers down, punching in the numbers on the keypad.
His arm disappeared and the Pit-Ghor sprawled pathetically in the dirt, its great jaws snapping down on only air.
Valerian pulled his arm out of the Sleeve and touched it. He’d had so much of virtual reality today he felt he had to make sure it was still there. He grinned and squirmed out of the hole, then pulled off his helmet, throwing it away and shaking his hair.
“Okay? You got everything?” asked Laureline, following him and grabbing the case that contained the converter. “Can we go now?”
Without waiting for an answer, she hastened back toward the eastern gate, and Valerian was hot on her heels.
“Your cover’s blown,” came Gibson’s voice in their ears as they ran. “Zito’s friend’s screen just flashed your images. Keep moving. Don’t change course.”
“We don’t intend to,” Laureline stated.
* * *
Igon Siruss did not often move swiftly, and even when he did, it was not particularly fast. His guards had notified him that they had Agent Valerian trapped, and he had come with mild rapidity. Now he stood at the end of the street, but all he saw were some unhappy-looking guards and some dead—or baffled—Pit-Ghors, who scampered around, futilely sniffing the ground.
“Sorry, boss,” one of his Kodhar’Khans said.
“He made it to his world,” another supplied. “We’re not sure how, but he did.”
Fury welled inside Igon. His first impulse was to rip the guards apart with his bare hands. He could; it was messy and he preferred to leave that sort of thing to others, but he certainly could.
But no. There would be time to deal with them later.
He had learned a human saying a long time ago: Revenge is a dish best served cold. Most of the time, Igon found this to be true. But not today.
Today, he wanted his revenge swiftly, speedily, and preferably bloodily.
“Bring me a Megaptor!” he roared.
CHAPTER NINE
Major Gibson gave the orders to his unit to exit the brightly colored bus and stand ready to cover the team’s escape through the gate. It sounded like Major Valerian’s mishap with the Sleeve had resulted in half of Big Market following in hot pursuit.
Gibson had heard nothing but good things about Sergeant Laureline—a fast thinker, a good fighter in a combat situation, a stickler for details, respectful of the chain of command. He had heard good things about Major Valerian as well, but unlike that bestowed upon the young sergeant, Valerian’s praise had come with qualifiers.
A bit impulsive, some had said. Arrogant, but damn good at what he does, someone else had put in. Reckless… but he’s got seven medals and he’s not even thirty yet, a third party had said.
Gibson suspected that the kid hadn’t even read the mission instructions. And now, Valerian, the very respectable sergeant, and the priceless converter were all on the other side of the thick red wall.
His eyes were on Zito’s screen, flickering occasionally, irrationally, to the eastern gate. Then they widened as Gibson saw a large spot on the screen. Something very, very big was chasing after the two agents—and closing the gap with sickening speed.
“The Siirts on the other watch towers have primed their weapons,” Zito reported.
“Attack! Level red. I repeat, attack! Level red!” the Siirt puppet shouted.
“Cops are closing in on them, sir,” Zito added.
“Cover them!” Gibson shouted.
“What do we do now?” came Laureline’s voice in his ear.
There was only one answer Gibson could give them. “Run!”
* * *
They did.
Small dust clouds appeared behind them, stirred up by each frantically placed footfall as the two agents raced toward safety. Gunfire was erupting all around them. Valerian glanced up to see the puppet Siirt controlled by Zito was opening fire on his buddies. The poor guy looked horrified at what he was being forced to do. The gate was just up ahead. The pair hurled themselves through it at top speed, not slowing as they raced toward the bus.
Like the people conducting the mission, the vehicle that had ferried them here had also been undercover. Now, though, it was already well into abandoning its camouflage of a rickety old tour bus. The front portion, including headlights and bumper, was opening like a book, its two sides coming together to form a defensive and decidedly uninviting shield. Twin lights rolled out to either side. Similar armor was being provided to each wheel, folding over it protectively as heavy metal plates slammed down on the bus’s side.
The old, grimy windows lowered, to be replaced with grates with holes precisely wide enough to admit rifle barrels spaced at militarily perfect intervals. Similar grates with longer, horizontal bars scrolled over the windshield. With a grinding whir, a turreted gun emerged and folded itself into position. Other weapons appeared along the now heavily armored military vehicle, bristling and ready for action.
Bullets spattered around Valerian and Laureline. Gulping in air as she ran, clutching the case and its precious cargo tightly to her chest, Laureline heard the sound of something on their heels. Despite her better instincts, she looked behind them—and lost the air she’d just inhaled in a horrified gut-punch realization.
“Faster! Now!” she cried, and she and Valerian sprinted even harder.
It was a Megaptor, and it was the stuff of nightmares.
The thing was gargantuan. Four times the size of the largest Pit-Ghor that had been snapping at Valerian’s heels, it was even uglier than they were. Laureline had not imagined such a thing possible. A third of its reptilian, bulky body appeared to be its head, and at least half of its head was teeth. It seemed too big, too muscular to be as fast as it was. And yet it was closing the distance, propelled forward by giant forepaws with claws easily large enough to close about Laureline’s slender frame. Black, sharp spikes jutted up from the ridge of its spine, and Laureline could only pray that it was her imagination when she could have sworn she felt the heat of its breath.
She forced herself to focus on the rapidly approaching metal door of the Eastern Gate. The portion of it that had been opened for the day’s round of tourists was far too small to permit such a monster to follow.
And she and Valerian were not alone. She heard Major Gibson give the order to fire. While Zito blazed away at the other towers attacking the pair, the remaining commandos closed ranks around Valerian and Laureline, firing at the monstrous creatures. The bus had almost completed its transformation; by the time the two dusty, sweaty, adrenaline-saturated spatio-temporal agents reached it, all that was vulnerable was the folding door through which Laureline and Valerian flung themselves.
The others were not far beh
ind. The door closed and barricaded itself with four-inch-thick metal.
“Let’s get out of here!” Gibson barked at the driver. He obeyed immediately. The plated vehicle peeled off and, exhausted and shaking with relief, Laureline and Valerian tumbled into the seats.
They’d done it! They’d—
A terrible sound reached their ears.
Laureline brought her eye to one of the small holes. The bus-turned-tank was wheeling around, and in the center of the gate’s metal door, she saw not the tidy, small exit through which she and Valerian had escaped, but a jagged circle of sharp metal edges. She turned to Valerian. They stared at one another, eyes wide.
Then there was another loud, frightening sound, and the bus lurched violently.
The Megaptor was on the roof.
Laureline heard the rat-tat-tat of the gun mounted on the roof as it swiveled and began to fire at nearly point-blank range. But judging by the violent rocking of the bus and the terrible noise of claws tearing metal, and the angry, deep bellows of the creature, the powerful weapon was having little-to-no effect.
“Get that thing off our backs!” Gibson had to shout to be heard over the din.
The driver yanked the bus this way and that, jouncing everyone inside, but his serpentine maneuvering appeared to be as ineffective as the weapon that was still spitting bullets at the thing. Suddenly the desert landscape glimpsed through the rear windshield was filled with the horrifying sight of mottled yellow-brown skin, a single baleful golden eye, and then a mouthful of teeth bared in a furious roar.
Three of the soldiers opened fire through the bars, trying to concentrate on that awful eye and the open mouth. The Megaptor clung on with its hind legs and one of its gigantic forepaws and brought the other one back, then slammed it forward. The bars bent as easily as if they had been made of saplings. The black claws closed around one of the soldiers, piercing his body effortlessly. He screamed and jerked as blood spurted. The Megaptor hauled him out, bit at him, then tossed the body back inside as it reached in for more, murderously swiping at the men with a forepaw now dripping scarlet.
Over the screams and the firing, Valerian shouted into his mic, “Alex! We need you!”
“On my way, Major,” Alex replied. Laureline thought she had never been so happy to hear a computer’s response in her life.
The Megaptor appeared to be unstoppable. It turned its attention from the windshield to the roof, rending it with teeth and claws until, with a protesting groan, the roof at the rear of the bus peeled back, as if the beast were opening a metal can. It let out a higher pitched cry of pleasure, shoving its arm in and again plucking out a hapless soldier. Laureline thought for an instant that it was all over now, but the creature stopped only partway inside. Its roaring turned to growls of frustration as it realized it could only get the one arm and its bulbous head through the gap it had created.
Everyone had clustered toward the front of the bus and was firing at the beast, but their bullets seemed to simply bounce off its hard skin.
Laureline, who was doing her best to fire while using a bus seat as cover, noticed the play of shadow over the bloody scene and risked a glimpse back through the front windshield. It was the Intruder—the cavalry coming over the hill. Just in time, too.
“I’m out of ammo!” shouted Laureline to Valerian, panic creeping into her voice.
“Me too!” Valerian replied.
“Go on!” shouted Gibson. “Take the converter and get out of here!”
The two agents shared a quick glance. They didn’t like the idea of leaving everyone else behind to be ripped to pieces by the slavering Megaptor.
“That’s an order, agents!” Gibson shouted. “Go!”
Valerian’s lips pressed into a thin line as he grabbed the converter. “Alex?” he called out.
“I’m in position, Major.”
Seizing a gun from the lifeless fingers of one of the fallen commandos, Valerian shot out the glass in the windshield as the driver slammed a button. The metal bars retracted. The way was clear.
Slightly ahead of them was the Intruder, matching their speed and dropping down to their level as Alex extended the ramp. The two tossed their weapons aside and crawled through the broken windshield, balancing precariously on the front of the speeding bus. Behind them they heard screams, roars, and an awful crunching sound.
The Intruder and the ramp to safety drew closer… closer…
They leaped, flinging themselves forward. Laureline felt hot breath on her exposed legs, which this time absolutely was not her imagination, and heard a ripping sound and the bellow of a thwarted monster.
Valerian and Laureline hit the ramp hard, got to their feet, and charged up into the cockpit. Alex retracted the ramp behind them. Laureline leaped into her seat. A horrible fear seized her, but eased as she saw Valerian set the converter down in one corner in its carrying case. Her gaze fell to her lap as she exhaled in relief.
Her dress was in tatters. “Dammit!” she exclaimed. “He ruined my last dress!” And then she thought about Gibson and the others, and felt horrible about being even remotely upset about a stupid dress. She began decoding their coordinates.
“Thanks for the rescue, Alex,” Valerian said, ignoring Laureline, “I’ll take over on manual.” He checked the monitors, tapping quickly on the controls. “Prepare to enter exospace.” He glanced over at her. “You have the coordinates for the rendezvous?”
“I’m just deciphering them,” Laureline replied.
A sudden jolt ran the length of the spaceship.
“Alex?” Valerian asked. “What was that?”
Alex’s voice was anxious as she replied, “I fear we have a stowaway.”
Laureline didn’t feel quite so bad about Gibson and his team anymore.
The Megaptor was no longer the commandos’ problem.
It was theirs.
“Shit!” Valerian swore, then to Laureline he said, “Hold on!”
She barely had time to strap herself in before he pulled back hard on the joystick. Laureline’s back slammed against the black upholstery as the XB982’s nose pointed skyward, soaring up almost vertically.
A screen flickered to life in front of Valerian, revealing the face of one of the Federation ministers. And he looked really, really unhappy.
“Major Valerian,” he snapped in a tight, irritated tone, “you’re running nearly twenty minutes late!”
“Really?” Valerian tried to put on his best innocent face. Despite the situation, Laureline smirked; she knew that expression very well indeed. With a quick glance up at the roof where, presumably, a thoroughly pissed-off Megaptor was trying to claw his way into the cockpit, he added, “Time flies when you’re having fun!”
“We have the Mül converter, sir,” Laureline chimed in. Unfortunately, this did not seem to placate the minister as much as she had hoped it would.
“Excellent,” the minister replied, curtly. “Now perhaps you could tell me what you’re doing seventeen light years from your rendezvous?”
Valerian winced. “It does sound pretty bad if you put it like that,” he admitted. “But if I say we’ll be there in…” He turned to look at Laureline, eyebrow raised in query.
“Nine minutes,” Laureline supplied.
“Nine minutes,” Valerian echoed, “does that sound better?”
The Megaptor was losing patience, it seemed. The Intruder hurtled into space as the creature slammed about, shaking the vessel in a desperate effort to get inside.
“I’ll inform the commander that you’re behind schedule… and pass along your apology,” the minister said, archly.
“You do that,” Valerian said with false cheer. The minister disappeared from the screen and Valerian exhaled.
“Exospace in five seconds,” Laureline said.
“Somebody’s going to hit the ground with a bump!” Valerian said, and grinned.
* * *
The Megaptor was hungry, and the small things that had peppered his skin stu
ng a little. He was angry with his prey for being so elusive; he had not been fed all day. Normally prey was soft and juicy and easy to eat, but this prey hid in a strange box and had been so hard to catch.
This box was very large, but the Megaptor had seen them leap into it, so it knew they were there. It roared, angrily, but could not smell their fear. Could not smell them at all, only the metal of the box.
Fresh irritation made him bite and scratch vigorously again at the large box.
Then, all at once, the box was no longer beneath it.
Nothing at all was beneath it, and as it started to fall, somehow it understood that it was a long, long way down.
CHAPTER TEN
Once they had lost the unwelcome stowaway and confirmed with Gibson that there had been no further casualties, Laureline changed out of the few ratty strips of cloth that was all the Megaptor had left of her dress and decided it was time to take care of their new guest, the converter. She was concerned about what effect all the action might have had on it. She hoped it wasn’t injured, but at the very least it would likely be shaken up. Nobody liked to be in a small box, getting jounced around while subject to the bellows of a Megaptor.
Laureline set the perforated box containing the converter down on the table in the Intruder’s sickbay. She could hear it shuffling around in the back of the box. Using a remote, she deciphered the locking code and the front end clicked open slightly.
“Okay,” she said sweetly. “Come on, little guy, let’s take a look at you.”
The overture was met with a growl as the creature backed up against the rear wall. Laureline hunkered down and peered into the box. She made an appealing clucking sound with her tongue, her voice coaxing. “Come on, Tiger, it’s okay. I’ll look after you.”
More growls, though less certain.
“That’s it… come on…” She smiled at it, and placed her hand down. It hesitated, its eyes darting about and its long muzzle twitching with uncertainty. Laureline was patient, though, and after a long moment, it moved hesitantly to the front of the carrier and placed a tiny, four-digit forepaw on her palm. It looked like a reptile on the surface, but as it moved, Laureline could see that its belly was covered with fur.
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