“Everyone behaving themselves up there?”
“Two indignant outbursts, one request for a glass of water— denied—and one promise to see us all behind a force field, but that’s been about it so far. There’s a blip on the screen; someone coming to check on the distress signal. Looks like a freighter, moving pretty slowly, but it is moving, so don’t dawdle.”
“Right. You reading anything inside this room?”
“Nothing here. But like I said, I can’t see.”
Xris glanced again at the Little One. The fedora bobbed.
“Rescue-two, we’re going in.”
Xris touched the controls. The door stayed shut.
“Or maybe not. Rescue-two ...”
“I’m on it, Rescue-one. Just a sec. Okay. Ready when you are.”
Xris motioned to Quong. Lasgun in hand, the Doc took one side of the door while Xris covered the other. Rowan had drawn her lasgun. With her other hand, she grasped the Little One firmly, dragged him behind her, out of the line of fire.
“Ready.”
The door slid open. Quong dove low, lasgun ready. Xris dodged in after him.
They were inside what appeared to be a sick bay. Three hospital beds, separated by hanging curtains, were lined up side by side. Various monitors, computers, and other equipment, including a deactivated medicbot, cluttered the room.
An extremely startled-looking medic, seated in a swivel chair in front of a lit screen, spun around, said, “What the—” and jumped to his feet.
“Hold it,” Quong told him, aiming the lasgun at the man’s chest. “Right there. Don’t move. Hands up.”
The medic, looking bewildered, did what he was told.
Xris glanced swiftly around the room, saw no one else.
No one else living, that is.
A still form, covered with a white sheet, lay on one of the beds. A hand was all that was visible, hanging limp and lifeless off the bed. The delicate fingers were decorated with gaudy rings. The nails were long, manicured, and painted mauve.
“Damn. Damn it to hell,” Xris said softly.
He turned, with some idea of telling Rowan to get the Little One out of there, but he was too late. The empath broke away from her, ran past Xris, heading straight for the shrouded figure.
“Doc!” Xris called warningly. “I’ve got the medic covered. You go take care of ...” He left the sentence unfinished. There was probably very little left to care for ... except the Little One. And what they’d do with him, Xris couldn’t imagine.
The Little One was climbing up onto the bed.
Quong lowered his weapon. With soothing words, he endeavored to stop the empath. But the doctor was too late. The Little One plucked the sheet from the body.
Raoul lay beneath it. The Adonian was dressed in a hospital gown. (“He must be dead!” Xris muttered to himself.) The long black hair was uncombed, disheveled. Wide, unseeing eyes stared at the ceiling.
The Little One grabbed hold of Raoul’s hospital gown with both small hands and tugged.
“My friend, please!” Quong attempted to remonstrate. “He is dead. There is nothing—”
“How did this happen?” Xris demanded.
The medic started to babble. “We found him stowed away on board our ship. He was in a drugged stupor. We did what we could, but—”
“I’ll bet.” Xris sneered. “I also don’t believe a word. Rowan, go help the Doc. Rowan ...”
She wasn’t looking at him or listening to him. She was staring at the medic’s computer. Rowan could have no more walked by a computer without stopping to look than poor Raoul could have walked past a cosmetics counter. She sat down in front of it.
“Stay away from that!” the medic yelled.
Rowan bent nearer, reading the screen.
“My God ...”
She placed her lasgun on the console. Her fingers went to the keyboard.
The medic was livid.
The Little One shook Raoul’s body. Quong attempted to pacify the distraught empath.
Xris turned back to his prisoner. “You’ve got five seconds to tell me the truth about what happened to my friend there before I start shooting holes in various parts of you—parts that won’t interfere with your mouth.”
“Xris ...” Rowan said, excited. “You won’t believe this! Come look—”
“Rescue-one!” Jamil was on the comm. “You’ve got trouble. I don’t know where the hell they came from, but a whole goddamn regiment is closing in on you!”
“Seal off Deck Eight, all levels!” Xris shouted.
He made a spring for the door control and, at that moment, the medic made a spring for Rowan.
Xris had time to shout a warning to her, but that was all he could do. His main concern had to be for the door. Reaching it, he caught a glimpse of armed men racing down the corridor. Laser fire burst over his head.
Xris slammed his hand on the controls, shut the door. He spun around.
The medic had Rowan in an expert stranglehold. He held her own lasgun to her head.
Chapter 27
If your advance is going well, you’re walking into an ambush.
Murphy’s Military Law
Xris could hear banging on the door, but that didn’t last long. He could trust Jamil to keep the door controls locked up, make sure the door stayed shut—at least until someone came back with a plasma cutting torch.
“Just take it easy.” Xris raised his hands in the air. “We don’t intend to hurt anyone. We just want to find out what happened to our friend there. You said you found him in—”
“Shut up!” the medic snarled.
The man was rattled; he was in charge of the situation, but he had no idea what to do with it. He pressed the gun against Rowan’s temple, glanced nervously around as if looking for help. His gaze went involuntarily upward.
Guessing that he wasn’t searching for spiritual guidance, Xris followed the medic’s gaze and saw the security cam. He cursed himself for not having seen it sooner. Someone had been watching, and not from the bridge, apparently, since Jamil couldn’t see them. Which meant there was some sort of centralized control on board the vessel that had nothing to do with the crew. What the hell was going on?
Rowan knew—he could tell it from the excited, eager expression on her face. She was within a finger’s twitch of having a hole burned through her skull and she was only interested in relating what she’d found out.
I know what they’re after! She was telling him silently. Her dark eyes gleamed. She cast a look at the computer and then her gaze became pleading. But I need more time!
He could hear her as clearly as if she’d spoken out loud. And he felt the same familiar rush of frustration and irritation that he’d had in the old days, working together. Not only did Rowan expect him to get her out of this—to get them all out of this—but she wanted him to buy her time on the computer as well! And all with a gun to her head!
The medic had decided on a course of action. He began dragging Rowan backward toward the bed, where he could get a clear view of Quong and the Little One.
“You there. You two. Move out in front of me where I can see you.” The medic tightened his choking grip on Rowan, motioned with the lasgun.
Rowan had gone a shade paler; she was gasping for breath. Her eyes were enormous in her white face and their gaze never left Xris. She was slowly suffocating.
Quong lifted the Little One from the bed. The empath went limp in the doctor’s grasp. Quong set the Little One gently on the floor, stood protectively near him.
“Move this way. Over by the tin man,” the medic ordered, waving the lasgun. “You. Cyborg.” He turned to Xris. “Shut your battery down.”
“Rescue-one.” Jamil was back on the comm. “I’ve sealed off the corridors, but they’re using manual overrides to open the blast doors. It’ll take them a while, but not long. You’ve got five in your immediate vicinity. There were seven, but two of them left, probably to get a cutting torch. What’s it like at
your end?”
“Hostage situation. I can’t talk,” Xris returned.
“Shut up!” the medic yelled. “And shut down. You’ve got five seconds before I start shooting body parts. Hers!”
Panic began to rise, to bubble up inside Xris, creep out of his pores in a cold sweat. His worst nightmare, his only nightmare, his constant, continuous nightmare was shutting down. With his battery turned off, he was helpless, the cybernetic parts of himself died, froze. Weighted down with the heavy hunks of wire and steel, he couldn’t move. He could barely keep himself alive—if you wanted to call it alive. The artificial heart would continue to pump, but the blood would flow to paralyzed, unfeeling limbs.
“Five ... four ...” The medic was counting.
And behind the medic, the corpse of Raoul was slowly sitting up.
For a stunned moment, Xris wondered if his battery pack had shut down. His heart lurched and then reality hit him. Raoul was not dead. He’d never been dead! He’d been lying in the bed—God and the Loti only knew why—with the sheet pulled over his head!
All of this went through Xris’s mind in a flash, just as he realized he’d been staring too fixedly in Raoul’s direction. The medic had noticed his gaze, started to look around.
Raoul was on his hands and knees, crawling to the end of the bed. He held an injector in his hand.
“There’s obviously been a mistake,” Xris said loudly, and took a step forward. “Let me talk to Dr. Brisbane.”
“Dr. Brisbane gave us permission to come down here,” Quong added. He, too, had seen Raoul. The doctor took a step forward.
Alarmed, feeling threatened, the medic shifted the lasgun from Rowan, aimed at Xris, and fired.
Raoul leaped on the man from behind, plunged the injector into the medic’s back.
The burst caught Xris in the left arm, spun him around, knocked him to the floor. His electrical system went berserk; three fingers on his weapons hand shorted out. Tiny jolts of electricity slivered through his body and then the automatic relays kicked in and closed down the damaged circuits, rerouted the power.
Xris rolled over, fighting to catch his breath, waiting for his heartbeat to stabilize. There was one thing he could still do. He raised his lasgun, which he carried always in his good hand— mainly because of situations like this. He didn’t aim at the medic, who was writhing on the floor, in a tangle with Rowan. Taking careful aim, Xris shot out the security cam.
Quong was bending over the medic, who had gone suddenly limp.
“Dead,” the doctor reported.
Quong turned to Rowan.
She was on her feet, waved the doctor away. “I’m all right. Go see about Xris.”
“I’m okay, Doc.” Xris picked himself up. He was out of breath and dizzy, but that would pass. “Some circuits fried. Nothing major.” He touched the comm. “Rescue-two, this is Rescue-one. All secure down here. What’s going on outside our door?”
He didn’t really need to ask. He could hear the hissing of the plasma cutting torch, see a charred spot start to form around the door controls.
“Seven men on Deck Eight, your level,” Jamil reported. “They’ve got a torch and they’re cutting their way through the door. Someone tried to shut down my view, but I was able to block the attempt. Rescue-three is on his way under my guidance. He’s on Deck Six, but he’s going to run into a few delays. They’re still playing with the manual overrides. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Are they attacking the spaceplane?”
“Harry reports all clear. They’re only interested in you, my friend. Out.”
Xris tuned in Tycho, picked up the sound of laser blasts. “Rescue-three, can you hear me?”
“Barely!” Tycho shouted. There was a pause, then the whine of the iridium sniper rifle. A blast. “Three down! One to go! I tell you something, boss”—the alien’s tone was grim—”these guys sure as hell aren’t college professors!”
No, they sure as hell weren’t.
Quong was beside Xris, inspecting the damage.
“I’m okay, Doc. Nothing you can do about this now. You go cover the door. Tycho’s coming down to get us out, but he may be delayed. He’s facing resistance.”
Quong, who could hear for himself in his own comm, nodded. Rowan could hear, too, but she was back at the computer, working feverishly. Xris limped over, stood behind her.
“What have you got?”
“I’m not sure,” she murmured, her gaze on the screen, her brow furrowed. “I’m establishing a link between our plane’s computer and this one. Hopefully, I can do it without them finding out—at least not right away.” She looked up at him. “I need time, Xris.”
“We’re not going anywhere real soon,” he said wryly. “How long?”
“Ten minutes?”
“Five,” he modified, and hoped he meant it.
She grimaced, shook her head, and went back to work.
Xris turned to Raoul. The Little One had his arms around his friend’s legs, hugging him. Raoul was patting the empath on the shoulder.
“I don’t suppose it would do any good to ask you what’s going on?”
Raoul’s eyes were glazed, unfocused. “I am afraid not, Xris Cyborg. They did terrible things to me. They were going to kill me. That deadly drug”—the eyes sharpened, their gaze rested on the injector lying near the body—”was meant for me.”
“You don’t know who these people are?”
Raoul shook his head, the eyes once more vacant, vacuous. “I have no idea. They did terrible things. They made me wear this... .” His hands plucked at the hospital gown.
Xris was struck with sudden inspiration. “That’s why you were lying under the sheet!”
“Of course.” Raoul lifted his plucked eyebrows, astonished that Xris hadn’t arrived at this conclusion earlier. “You don’t imagine I could let anyone see me like this.” His hands fluttered in disgust. “In this ... thing! And with no makeup!”
The charred arc was halfway around the door controls. Rowan, her teeth clamped down on her lower lip, was concentrating on her work. It would take a bomb blast to get her to leave now.
“Rescue-one, this is Rescue-three. I’m on Deck Seven, moving your way.” That was Tycho, and the next moment Jamil was on.
“Rescue-one, this is Rescue-two. They’ve broken through the door controls on Deck Three and there’s nothing more I can do to stop them. You’re going to have about twenty armed soldiers on you.”
“Five more minutes,” Rowan begged.
Raoul was plucking at Xris’s sleeve. “I have to go back to my room, change my clothes. It’s just down the hall—”
Xris caught himself about to laugh. He took a twist, thrust it in his mouth, bit down on it.
“Rescue-three, let me know when you’re in position on Deck Eight.”
“Coming up on you now, Rescue-one,” Tycho responded. “Targets in sight.”
“Right. Quong, grenade. Everyone—take cover!”
Quong took a thurmaplasma grenade from his belt, placed it in front of the door, set the timer, and ran like hell. He dove behind a steel cabinet. Raoul quit complaining about his wearing apparel, grabbed the Little One. The two of them hit the floor and scuttled underneath the bed.
Xris was on his way to finding his own cover when he noticed that Rowan hadn’t moved. She was still sitting at the damn computer.
He jumped for her, took her down, chair and all, just as the door blew.
The blast knocked out the lower section of the door, plus anyone standing near it. Xris, peering through the smoke and flame, could see bodies on the deck. But there must have been someone up and moving around because the next moment he heard the whine of Tycho’s gun.
“Move out, Rescue-one,” Tycho called over the comm. “I’ve got you covered.”
Quong, at a sign from Xris, made his advance. Cautiously, weapon raised, he looked out the door.
Rowan was on her knees, back at the computer.
“We’re in,” sh
e reported triumphantly. She touched a key. The screen cleared, then filled with text. “And, hopefully, they won’t find out for a while.”
Scrambling to her feet, she wiped away a trickle of blood from a cut on her scalp. “We’ve got to hurry,” she said to Xris impatiently. “I want to get back to the plane and log on.”
Xris grunted, hauled Raoul and the Little One out from under the bed.
“My clothes are in my room, which is down the hall to your right, about six or seven doors—” Raoul began.
“Never mind your clothes. Get moving.”
Raoul came to a dead stop, regarded Xris with a cold stare. “If you think that I am going out in public, wearing this ...” Words failed him.
“Damn it!” said Xris through teeth clenched over the twist in his mouth. He gave Raoul a shove that sent him staggering. “There are people out there shooting at us! Now get going!”
Raoul recovered himself, drew himself up with dignity. “May I remind you, Xris Cyborg, that people are generally always shooting at us. That is no excuse for not appearing at our best.”
“Hurry, Xris!” Rowan was shouting at him from the door. Quong had stepped outside, was motioning for them to come.
Xris was on the comm to Jamil. “Rescue-two, what’s our status?”
“You’re safe where you are for the moment, Rescue-one, but you’re going to run into a major roadblock in front of the spaceplane. Sorry, Rescue-one. Nothing I could do. They were laying for us.”
Laying for us. An ambush. A bunch of professors. Why? What the devil was going on?
“How many?”
“Thirty, thirty-five. Forty. Armed to the teeth.”
Xris shut his eyes, tried to think. He hadn’t switched off the comm and in the background he could hear the distress signal. And he remembered that, too—a freighter, coming to investigate. Just one more damn problem. A small problem, compared to the fact that there were forty or so armed and well-trained soldiers standing between his team and their only way off this mother of a ship. He could either go out and meet them and try to blast his way through or wait here until they came to get him, and try to blast his way out. Lousy odds, either way. He was going to lose some people, some damn good people. It—
The Knights of the Black Earth Page 30