by Timothy Zahn
And even if Uncle Virge caught the Brummgas napping and was able to blow a hole in the side of the building, Jack and Draycos were currently sitting right where the pile of rubble from that blast would land. No future in that at all.
Alternatively, Draycos could roll off Jack's back through the plastic doors of their cell and take out the two guards playing cards across the room. But there were a half-dozen surveillance cameras in the cell block, and all the Brummgan inefficiency in the galaxy wouldn't save them once the building was aroused.
They have to eventually take us out of here, he reminded Draycos. They'll take us to trial, or a more permanent prison. Sooner or later, we'll get our chance.
Again, the K'da didn't answer. Again, Jack didn't need a telepathic connection to know what his symbiont was thinking.
Eventually, certainly, they'd be out. But whether they would be out in rime to save Draycos's people was an entirely different question.
Let alone whether they'd be out in time to save Alison and Taneem.
"Human!" a deep voice called. "Human Macavity!"
"Yes, I'm here," Jack called back. He worked his way through the milling drunks to the door, sternly warning his hopes not to get too high. Chances were they'd simply messed up his fingerprints again and were hauling him back up to the second floor to retake them.
"You are summoned," the guard rumbled, sliding the door open for Jack.
A second guard joined them as they walked to the elevator. They got in, and the first Brummga punched one of the buttons.
Only it wasn't the second-floor button. This time, they were taking Jack to the tenth floor, only two floors down from the top of the building.
And that high up, where the senior officers and administrators probably had their offices, there were bound to be windows.
Though we will be ten floors up, Draycos reminded him.
I know, Jack agreed. But at least it's something.
The elevator let them out into a far nicer hallway than anything Jack had seen in the building so far. The guards led him to a thick door, opened it, and nudged him none too gently inside.
The room was reasonably large, clearly someone's office, with a cluttered desk in the middle and a low table and a pair of guest chairs in front of it. The lights were on low, probably a nighttime setting. A man sat behind the desk, his face in shadow. Three large Brummgas stood behind him, their handguns out and pointed at Jack.
And on the side wall to Jack's left was the most beautiful sight he'd seen since crashing his car: a large window looking out onto the lights of the city below.
They had their way out.
"Thank you," the man at the desk said to Jack's escort. "You may leave."
The guards backed out, closing the door behind them. "Welcome, Mr.—Macavity, was it?" the man said, gesturing to the farther of the two guest chairs. "Please; sit down."
Jack crossed toward the chair, trying to get a better look at the man's face. The voice seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it. "I expect you're wondering what you're doing here," the man continued as Jack sat down.
"I think the charges were vehicle theft and reckless driving," Jack said, shifting in the seat as if arranging himself. As he did so, he brought one foot up slightly, lifting his heel an inch off the floor. Draycos, can you get to my comm clip?
He felt movement across his skin, then a touch of weight as the K'da's forepaw lifted slightly from the back of his leg just above the ankle. I think so.
Get it, Jack told him. See if you can slide it under my clothes up to my neck.
"I meant what you were doing here, in this office," the man said, gesturing around the room. "I gather you don't recognize me." Leaning forward, he flicked on the desk light, bathing his face in a soft glow.
Jack felt his muscles tighten. He did indeed know the man. His name was Harper, and he worked as a bodyguard for Cornelius Braxton.
The head of Braxton Universis . . . and a man who might have been involved in the murders of Jack's parents eleven years ago.
"I see now that you do," Harper said. "Good. That should save some time."
"Time is usually worth saving," Jack agreed. Draycos had the comm clip out of his shoe now and was working it up along the back of the boy's leg. So far neither Harper nor the Brummgas seemed to have noticed anything. "Do you suppose your friends back there could point those guns somewhere else?" he added.
"Sorry" Harper said, smiling faintly. "After what happened to Slavemaster Gazen a couple of weeks ago, they feel it would be wise to keep you under guard at all times."
Jack looked sharply at the glowering aliens. Those were Chookoock family Brummgas?
"Yes, we're from the Patri Chookoock, Mr. Macavity," Harper said, correctly interpreting Jack's sudden change of expression. He raised his eyebrows slightly. "Correction: Mr. Morgan."
A shiver ran up Jack's skin. Uh-oh.
Steady, Draycos calmed him.
"You've caused us a great deal of trouble, Mr. Morgan," Harper went on. "Luckily for you, the Patri Chookoock is prepared to be lenient."
"In exchange for what?" Jack asked, the words coming out with difficulty. If Harper was working with the Chookoock family, it meant he must actually be one of Neverlin's men.
Or it could be even worse. It could be that Neverlin and Braxton had patched up their differences and Braxton was now a full partner in the plot to kill Draycos's people.
Either way, everyone in the room right now knew about Draycos.
Calm yourself, Jack, Draycos's cool thought whispered through his sudden surge of panic. They want something, or they would have killed us already.
Jack's heart was thudding hard enough for him to hear. We can't take that chance, he thought back.
We have no choice, Draycos said firmly. They're too widely separated for an attack. Stay calm and watch for an opportunity.
Jack had been trying to keep his swirl of emotion out of his face. But Harper wasn't fooled. "Relax," he said, smiling faintly. "There's still a chance you can walk away from this with your life. I understand you know a young lady named Alison Kayna."
For a split second Jack thought about denying it. But there didn't seem to be much point to that. "We've chatted once or twice," he admitted.
"That's good," Harper said. "Because the Patri Chookoock is even more annoyed with her than he is with you."
"Yeah, I'm not surprised," Jack said. The comm clip pressed against the waistband of his jeans, and he pulled in his stomach a little to let Draycos keep it moving.
"Ah, so you know about her little rampage through his estate," Harper said. "Excellent. That means you've been in contact with her since then. Tell us where she is and you can go free."
Briefly, Jack wondered what Harper's reaction would be if he told him Alison was settled in somewhere aboard the Advocatus Diaboli. "Hard to say," Jack told him instead. "The girl's always on the move."
Harper's smile hardened a little. "But you would be willing to help us find her?"
"Well, she's not in here," Jack said, half-turning both directions as if checking the room's corners behind him. The movement, he hoped, would hide the slight rippling of his shirt as Draycos slid the comm clip the rest of the way to his neck and attached it to the inside of his collar. "Afraid I can't help you look anywhere else just now."
"I think we can fix that," Harper assured him. "In about fifteen minutes a private shuttle will land on the roof of this building. You, I, and our three friends will take the elevator up there, get in, and take a ride to the Chookoock estate."
His face hardened. "Where you'll tell us everything the Patri Chookoock wants to know. One way or another. Guaranteed." Stay calm, Jack, Draycos said again.
Jack took a deep breath. He'd had all he could take from the Chookoock family during the month he'd been their slave. And most of that had been just their casual day-to-day cruelty, the sort they would inflict on any of the helpless beings under their control. The thought of the kind of focused torture Harper was hinting at
chilled him straight to the bone.
But Draycos was right. Panic would gain him nothing but a frozen brain.
Besides, even if Harper knew about Draycos, he'd never seen just what a poet-warrior of the K'da could do. That might give them the edge they would need.
In the meantime, Jack had fifteen minutes before the shuttle arrived. Maybe he could put the time to some use. "I'm sure we can come to some arrangement," he told Harper. "So tell me. How long have you been working for Mr. Neverlin?"
"Let's talk about you instead," Harper said. "How long have you—?"
"Because I'd have thought that after the Star of Wonder fiasco Braxton would go over his whole staff with a laser slicer," Jack interrupted. "How did you get missed? Or are we talking a brand-new alliance?"
"We know you were on Iota Klestis during the attack on the K'da/Shontine advance force," Harper said, ignoring the question. "What we don't know is how you learned about it far enough in advance—"
"What new alliance?" one of the Brummgas rumbled.
Harper frowned up at him. "What?"
"It said there was new alliance," the Brummga said, gesturing toward Jack with his gun. "What did it mean?"
"He was talking nonsense," Harper said. "The only alliance is the one we're already part of."
"It also spoke of Braxton," one of the other Brummgas said.
And suddenly two of the three guns that had been pointed at Jack were pointed at Harper instead.
"Are you insane?" Harper demanded, his voice low and ominous as he looked up at them. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"We know who you claim," the first Brummga said. From Jack's comm clip came a soft murmur, too soft for Jack to understand. "Maybe you should be more closely asked at."
Jack, get ready to roll off the chair to your right, Draycos's thought came urgently. Steady . . . now!
Jack fell to his right, dropping sideways to land flat on the floor. He caught a glimpse of Harper and the Brummgas turning sharply to look at him.
And with a thunderous explosion, the window disintegrated.
Go!
Jack climbed unsteadily back to his feet, blinking back the swirling dust now filling the room. Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear Uncle Virge's voice shouting faintly from inside his shirt. "Come on, lad! Hurry!"
Jack looked toward the side wall. Where the window had been was now a gaping hole. Beyond the hole, hovering on its lifters with its ramp gesturing invitingly, was the Essenay.
"Hurry, lad," Uncle Virge said again. "They'll be on us anytime."
"Right," Jack muttered, and he headed toward the ruined wall. He was halfway there when he heard the flat crack of a gunshot.
He spun half-around, dropping reflexively into a crouch. Harper was still seated at the desk, with two of the Brummgas still standing over him. The aliens were waving their guns wildly, their pea-sized brains probably still trying to sort out whether they should be pointing the weapons at Jack, Harper, or the new threat that had suddenly appeared outside.
And then, as Jack watched, there was another pair of gunshots. The two remaining Brummgas jerked and toppled backward out of sight behind the desk.
It was only then that Jack saw the small gun in Harper's hand.
There was a sudden surge of weight on Jack's shoulders, and Draycos leaped out of his collar.
But Harper was faster. Instantly, he lifted both hands, pointing his gun at the ceiling. "Truce," he called.
The word was barely out of his mouth before Draycos reached him. Jack caught his breath, but the K'da hadn't missed the signs of surrender. He leaped up onto the desk but instead of delivering a killing or stunning blow merely slapped the gun out of Harper's hand with his paw.
"Jack, lad, come on!" Uncle Virge snapped. "They're scrambling pursuit fighters."
"On our way," Jack called back, starting again toward the ramp. "Come on, Draycos."
Draycos flicked his tail and hopped backward off the desk, his eyes still on Harper. "Take me with you," Harper called, his hands still in the air. "We may be on the same side."
"You've got your own shuttle coming," Jack reminded him. "You can take that one."
"With three dead Brummgas behind me?" Harper countered. "Don't be ridiculous."
Jack hesitated. Harper was probably right about that.
Question was, could Jack and Draycos trust the man? Jack looked at Draycos, but the K'da was looking back at him. Waiting for him to make the decision.
And as he gazed at those glowing green eyes, a memory popped back into Jack's mind: he and Draycos on Sunright, with Jack unwilling to go charging back into danger to rescue Alison and some of their fellow Whinyard's Edge soldiers. A warrior does that which is right, Draycos had told him. Not because he may profit from it. Because it is right.
If they left Harper here, the man was dead. Pure and simple. Either by the hand of the Brummgan legal system or by the far more personal hand of the Patri Chookoock.
And there was always a chance he and Harper were on the same side. "Come on, then," Jack told him.
Turning back to the ruined wall, he steeled himself and leaped the two feet across to the end of the ramp. Draycos was right behind him, with Harper a close third. "We're in," Jack called toward the airlock's camera/speaker/microphone module. "Close up and head to the roof."
"Right," Uncle Virge said.
"Wait a second," Harper protested as the ramp slid back into place and the outer hatch closed. He started toward Jack, stopping abruptly as Draycos stepped warningly into his path. "The roof?"
"They'll be looking for someone running," Jack called back over his shoulder as he headed for the cockpit. "So instead we go to ground."
The Essenay was already settling onto the roof beside the police station's set of big relay dishes when Jack reached the cockpit. "Hull-wrap on, everything else power crash-down," Jack ordered the computer as he slid into the pilot's seat.
"Got it," Uncle Virge said, the cockpit's lights and power indicators already winking out. "Jack, lad, bringing on another passenger—"
"Save it," Jack said. He turned as Harper came up behind him, Draycos close on his heels. "Just relax, Mr. Harper. It's under control."
He saw Harper's eyes flick to the single part of the board still showing indicators. "Chameleon hull-wrap?" he asked.
"That's right," Jack confirmed. "A very good one, too."
"It still won't fool them forever," Harper warned. "We may look like a section of roof from above, but there's no way to hide the ship's actual bulge from anyone looking straight across the rooftops at us."
"We aren't going to stay here forever," Jack assured him. "As soon as those fighters and police aircars get far enough away, we'll be making a break for it."
"And at night a sideways look isn't going to do anyone much good anyway," Uncle Virge added. "Trust me, we've done this before."
"I'll take your word for it," Harper said, glancing around. "I give up. Where are you?"
"Uncle Virgil's not actually here right now," Jack said, tensing a little as he always did whenever someone asked about his dead uncle. "He just added a personality simulation to the computer so I wouldn't get lonely when he was away."
"Interesting." Harper leaned over Jack's shoulder toward the P/S/8 designation plate on the computer-interface board. "That kind of personality simulation usually requires at least a P/S11. You must have upgraded your system somewhere along the line."
"Actually, I think the ship came already equipped with a P/S/11," Jack said. "I think what Uncle Virgil did was downgrade the designation plate."
"We've got a shuttle incoming from the northeast," Uncle Virge reported. "The police are moving to intercept."
"That'll be mine," Harper said. "Or, rather, the one the Patri was sending for me."
Jack sent him a sideways look. "Awfully nice of him."
"Relax; I'm not with them," Harper said. "Really. I just spun them that yarn to get myself into the police station."
&
nbsp; "Ah," Jack said, wondering whether to actually believe that. "He's going to be furious when he finds out you killed three of his soldiers, you know."
"No more furious than he'll be when he finds out I lied to him about being one of Neverlin's associates." Harper consulted his watch. "Which should be any time now, depending on when the answer to his query gets back from the Advocatus Diaboli."
Jack frowned at him. "You knew he would check up on you?"
"Of course," Harper said. "But I also know how long it typically takes messages to transfer back and forth between underlings and superiors. I figured I had enough time, especially given how eager the Patri was to let me sneak you out of jail and into his hands."
A shiver ran up Jack's back. "You play dangerous games."
"You should talk," Harper countered. "From where I sit, it looks like you're involved with Neverlin up to your lower lip."
"Jack's involvement is purely accidental," Draycos put in.
"And then we have you," Harper went on, looking over his shoulder at Draycos. "I can't wait to hear your story."
"Jack, I believe it's time," Uncle Virge spoke up. "They're all far enough away."
Jack nodded. "Rev us up."
The board lit up again as the computer reactivated the Essenay's systems. Jack gave everything a quick look, then got a grip on the control yoke. "You might want to hang on to something," he advised Harper. "This could get a little bumpy."
"Keep it slow and casual as long as you can," Harper cautioned. "The more you look like someone out on an innocent late-night errand, the longer it'll take them to notice you."
"Thanks, I know the drill," Jack told him. "Here goes."
He eased the Essenay away from the roof, turning off the chameleon hull-wrap as he did so, and headed at a leisurely pace at right angles to the current focus of the searchers' attention.
For the first thirty seconds he thought they were actually going to pull it off. Then, three of the fighters turned away from their confrontation with the Chookoock shuttle and swung onto an intercept course. "That's it," Jack said, grabbing the thruster control. "Hang on, everyone." Mentally crossing his fingers, he jammed it to full power.
He needn't have worried. The fighters' pilots had apparently been motivated by little more than curiosity about the unidentified craft's presence over the city. By the time Jack's burst of speed turned their idle questions to sharp-edged certainty, the Essenay had too much of a lead.