by Timothy Zahn
Six minutes later, with the fighters still trying to play catch-up, Jack keyed in the ECHO. The starry sky in front of them flashed with the usual brief rainbow, and became the blue of hyperspace.
And they were safe. For now.
"Nicely done," Harper said. "Now what?"
"We find someplace to drop you off and get on with our lives," Jack said, frowning at the navigation display. With the data diamonds holding the refugee rendezvous information still aboard the Advocatus Diaboli, the new plan had been for him and Draycos to go to Driftline, where Alison had deduced Frost had been heading when he'd been ordered to Semaline to pick her up.
Of course, that had been a month ago. Frost and Neverlin could easily have changed their plans since then. But Driftline was the only lead they had.
But Uncle Virge had already laid in an ECHO course. Not for Driftline, but some obscure planet named Bentre at the edge of Compfrin space. "Uncle Virge?" Jack asked.
"We'll talk later, Jack lad," the computerized personality said firmly.
"Whatever," Jack said, catching the cue. Apparently, whatever was going on, it wasn't something Uncle Virge wanted to discuss in front of company.
"Meanwhile, we'd be more comfortable in the dayroom," Draycos put in.
"Good idea," Harper said, turning and working his way out of the cockpit. "I'm looking forward to hearing your story."
"I'm sure you are," Jack said, following him out. "Almost as much as we're looking forward to hearing yours."
CHAPTER 6
Alison had just unwrapped a pair of ration bars when the receiver she'd set in her ear picked up the sound of a door opening and an indistinct murmur of human voices. "Hold it," she said softly, gesturing to Taneem. "We've got company."
The K'da stepped to her side, pressing her ear to Alison's just as the muttering voices began to resolve into words. "—hell were they thinking?" Neverlin was snarling.
"What do you want me to say?" Frost bit back, sounding every bit as angry as Neverlin. "This isn't a field operation with enemies just across the mortar zone, where you double- and triple-check everything. This is supposed to be a secure operations base. You get an order, you assume it's legit."
"An order to abandon your post?" Neverlin countered acidly. "An order to leave a guard station unmanned? Maybe your troops need to hear a lecture on basic security technique."
"Trust me," Frost said darkly. "They'll definitely be hearing a lecture."
There was a soft thump, the sound of flesh slapping against metal. "Well, at least he didn't get it open," Neverlin muttered.
"How do you know?" Frost countered. "Kayna got hers open without blowing off the door. How do you know Mrishpaw didn't use the same trick she did?"
"I don't know," Neverlin said. "But I intend to find out."
The voices fell silent. "Mrishpaw?" Taneem asked quietly.
"That was the other order I logged from Neverlin's office," Alison told her. "I sent a message to Mrishpaw to report to Frost at the aft sensor room. Naturally, Frost wasn't there."
"But why do they suspect him of trying to get into the safe?" Taneem asked. "They must realize both orders were false."
"And they also realize both were for the same purpose," Alison agreed. "But their assumption will be that someone wanted to sneak into the office, not out of it."
"But Mrishpaw went to the aft sensor room, not the office," Taneem said, clearly still confused.
"Yes, he did," Alison agreed. "But since most of the rest of the ship was asleep, probably no one saw him. That makes it his word against Neverlin's suspicions."
"Suspicions of one who is an ally."
"True, but remember these people are allies purely from common interest," Alison reminded her. "They don't especially even like each other. They certainly don't trust each other."
"Ah—Mrishpaw," Neverlin said. "Come in. No, no—over here, by the safe."
The hidden needle picked up the thud of Brummgan footsteps crossing the room. "I must congratulate you," Neverlin went on. "You and the Patri Chookoock both. You must have seen something Kayna did when she opened that other safe. Something the rest of us missed."
"Sir?" Mrishpaw asked. Brummgan voices were hard to read, but Alison had no trouble hearing the bewilderment in this one.
"The safe, Mrishpaw," Neverlin said. Another slapping of flesh on metal. "Tell me, how exactly did you get it open?"
"Sir?" Mrishpaw asked again. With his molasses mind in a swirl of confusion, he was clearly having trouble coming up with anything new to say.
"You can drop the innocent act, Private," Frost said tartly. "You know, Mr. Neverlin, it's just occurred to me that the only really solid report we have of Morgan's K'da being on the Chookoock estate also came from Private Mrishpaw. Yet we know now that both Morgan and his K'da were actually on Semaline at the time."
"No," Mrishpaw protested, finally finding his tongue or his brain or both. "It was on the estate. It attacked Sergeant Dumbarton and me."
"So you reported," Frost said. "However, Sergeant Dumbarton himself doesn't remember seeing anything but a blur."
"It attacked other guards, too," Mrishpaw said, sounding puzzled. "The ones who fought the slave riot. They saw it, too."
"Oh yes—the big impressive K'da warrior attack," Neverlin said contemptuously. "Leaving—let me see—three Brummgas knocked unconscious, none dead, and the rest escaped without so much as a scratch. Must have been his day off."
"Panjan Gazen was also killed," Mrishpaw said. His confusion was starting to edge into alarm now as he finally saw where the conversation was going.
"By slaves armed with sticks," Neverlin said contemptuously. "The fact is that every report of a K'da being on Brum-a-dum came from you or one of the Patri Chookoock's other people."
"You're here, Private," Frost said. "The Patri Chookoock is a long ways away, where he can't hear. If you have anything to say, this is the time to say it."
"Panjan Gazen was also killed," Mrishpaw repeated, sounding thoroughly miserable. He was being railroaded, and he knew it. But he was all muscle and stamina, and he couldn't think of anything to say in his defense.
Alison could almost feel sorry for him. But then she thought back to the Chookoock estate, and how Mrishpaw had accepted without protest Frost's order to kill her in cold blood, and her sympathy faded away.
"Very well," Frost said. "Pending further investigation, you're confined to quarters. Dismissed."
Again there was the thud of Brummgan footsteps across the office floor, followed by the sound of a closing door. "Unless you'd prefer I have him executed?" Frost asked.
"I don't know," Neverlin said. During the confrontation there had been no hint of hesitation in his voice. Now, though, Alison could detect both doubt and suspicion. "In point of fact, we don't actually know the K'da was on Semaline with Morgan. We only have Langston's statement on that."
"I was thinking the same thing," Frost agreed slowly. "On the other hand, those false orders definitely came from somewhere inside the Advocatus Diaboli. Langston isn't here. Mrishpaw is."
"Mrishpaw and eleven other Chookoock family Brummgas," Neverlin rumbled. "By the way, speaking of Morgan, it seems he's slipped through our fingers again."
"What?" Frost demanded. "You said the police had picked him up."
"They did, and were holding him as ordered," Neverlin said grimly. "Unfortunately, someone calling himself Springer showed up at the Chookoock estate claiming to be one of my men. He convinced the Patri that Morgan and the K'da were already working on escape and volunteered to take a couple of Brummgas to the station and get them out."
Frost swore under his breath. "Idiot. Why didn't he check with you first?"
"Springer apparently had him convinced that Morgan was already halfway to the jail block door and there wasn't time," Neverlin said. "The Patri decided instead he could check with me while the others went off to fetch the prisoners."
"And?"
"Suffice it to say the poli
ce station now has a brand-new hole in the tenth-floor wall, three dead Chookoock soldiers, and one prisoner and one visitor unaccounted for."
"How convenient for Morgan," Frost said. "You think the Patri might have deliberately helped him to escape?"
"One would hope the Patri is smart enough to know what it would mean to try changing sides at this late date," Neverlin said contemptuously. "No, I think he simply got conned by this Springer character. I'm leaning toward him being someone sent by your friend General Davi to retest the waters."
"One would hope General Davi is smart enough to leave well enough alone," Frost growled. But Alison could hear the half-hidden discomfort in his voice. "More likely he's one of Braxton's people, still trying to track you down. That, or else the Internos government has finally started to take notice of all this."
"Fortunately, whoever he is, he's hitting the curve too late to stop us," Neverlin said. "And whatever he wants with Morgan, getting three of the Patri's soldiers dead in the process will now have bought him a great deal of additional trouble."
"Unless it was the K'da who killed them, not Springer," Frost pointed out.
"I doubt the Patri will really care about such details," Neverlin pointed out. "Besides, as I said, he's far too late to stop us."
"Maybe Springer can't," Frost warned. "I'm not so sure about the Patri. If he gets it into his slow-motion brain that Springer was one of us, there to pull some kind of bizarre double cross, he might decide to retaliate."
"With his men already here and out of communication with him?" Neverlin countered scornfully. "That would be a neat trick."
"On the other hand, double crosses can come in all sorts of odd flavors," Frost said, a subtle change in his voice. "They might even involve, oh, say, a set of twelve Compfrin KK-29 patrol ships."
There was a short, dark silence. "Very good, Colonel," Neverlin said at last. The words were calm enough, but there was something in his tone that sent a shiver up Alison's back. "But let's not overstep the dramatics. Ever since the raid on the Chookoock estate you're no longer flying beneath the Malison Ring's radar. I felt it might be unacceptably dangerous for your men to go to Driftline as originally planned for those Rhino-10s. I therefore went ahead and set up a backup plan, just in case."
"Nice speech," Frost complimented him. "Very believable. Unfortunately for you, I happen to know that this particular backup plan was made long before the Malison Ring had ever even heard of the Chookoock family."
There was another short silence. "I see," Neverlin said, his voice still calm. "So you gave Kayna a little safecracking practice on the way to Brum-a-dum."
"I thought it would be a good idea to give her skills a real test before I brought her in front of you and the Patri," Frost said. "Imagine my surprise when I discovered that bill of sale among your private papers."
"Imagine," Neverlin agreed politely. "But as I said, it was a backup plan."
"Was it?" Frost countered. "Or was the plan to abandon me and my men on Driftline and do the job on the refugee fleet without us? Leaving us to face General Davi's tender mercies?"
"You're here for your tactical abilities, Colonel," Neverlin said coldly. "I suggest you start proving you have some. Do you really think I'm foolish enough to tackle an armed fleet with nothing but a handful of KK-29s and a ship full of Brummgas?"
"And your tame Valahgua and their Death weapons."
"Even with them we need everything we have, and everything more that we can get," Neverlin assured him. "I trust you'll remember that."
"I remember it just fine," Frost said. "I just wanted to make sure you did, too. What was your plan for retrieving the 29s?"
Neverlin snorted gently. "The original plan was to swing by Bentre after I'd dropped you and your men off at Driftline and have the Brummgas collect the ships and fly them to Point Two. Now, with this Mrishpaw thing, I may not want all of your men leaving my ship just now."
Alison pricked up her ears. Point Two. The ambush location?
"Don't worry, we won't need to use anyone from the Advocates Diaboli," Frost said. "I've already sent a group of my fighter pilots to Bentre in one of the other shuttles."
"Have you, now," Neverlin said, and there was a sudden edge of caution in his voice. "And they're already on their way?"
"If not, they will be soon," Frost said. "They were to leave as soon as the troop carrier signaled that it was safely on its way to Point One. They should reach Bentre in four days, at which point they'll pick up the 29s and fly them directly to Point Two."
"Yes," Neverlin murmured. "That should make everything so much more convenient."
"Meanwhile, Sergeant Chapman and a team are on their way to Driftline to see about those Rhino-10s," Frost continued. "By the time we're ready to move to Point Three, we should have all the ships we need."
Alison grimaced. So much for Point Two being the end of the line.
"Excellent," Neverlin murmured. "You do still mean we, correct?"
Frost chuckled. "Relax, Mr. Neverlin," he said. "As you said, we need all of us to make this work."
"I'm relieved to hear it," Neverlin said, back on balance again. "Langston isn't with either raiding party, is he?"
"Don't worry," Frost assured him grimly. "He's at Point One getting drilled in proper Malison Ring combat technique." He paused, and Alison could imagine his thin smile. "And he's under the impression that Point Two is the actual rendezvous point. If he does have a knife up his sleeve, whoever he tries to call will show up in the wrong place."
"Let's just make sure he doesn't have a chance to make any such calls," Neverlin said.
"No problem," Frost said. "I've got him aboard the Foxwolf. No InterWorld transmitter there."
Neverlin grunted. "As far as we know."
"The Valahgua supposedly know what their enemies' long-range transmitters look like," Frost reminded him.
"Supposedly," Neverlin said. "How many of your men are on the Foxwolf at the moment?"
"Seventeen," Frost said. "Three shifts each at command, helm, engineering, hyperdrive, and monitor room, plus two swing crewers. Plus Langston."
"Do we have Brummgas who can handle those jobs?"
"Yes," Frost said, and Alison could hear a frown in his tone. "Do we want Brummgas handling those jobs?"
"The question is whether I want any Brummgas aboard the Advocatus Diaboli," Neverlin said tartly. "And right now, I'm thinking I don't. As soon as we reach Point Two you'll swap them off to the Foxwolf for twelve of your men."
"I'd strongly recommend against that, sir," Frost said, his voice suddenly formal. "The Foxwolf is the key to this whole operation."
"Don't worry; your men will still be in command," Neverlin said. "And we can certainly swap them back before we reach the rendezvous. But for the moment I want the Brummgas as far away from me as possible. And from my InterWorld transmitter."
"As you wish," Frost said. "I still think it's a mistake. Brummgas make good soldiers, but they're not built for thinking."
"There won't be any serious thinking to be done until the attack," Neverlin said. "By then, we'll have your men back aboard." He paused, and Alison heard the sound of footsteps as he headed for the door. "I'm going back to bed. Let me know if anything else happens."
A second set of footsteps joined the first. There was the sound of a door opening and closing, and then silence. Alison waited a minute, just to make sure, then pulled the receiver from her ear.
"Four days," Taneem murmured.
"What?" Alison asked.
"He said four days until his soldiers reach Bentre," the K'da said. "He also said Jack was no longer in jail."
And Alison had left a message with Uncle Virge urging Jack to also head directly to Bentre. "Yes, I know."
"Do you think Jack might be able to get there before they arrive?" Taneem asked hopefully.
Alison tried to visualize the map of the Orion Arm. "Theoretically, yes," she said. "But knowing Jack, he'll want to skulk around a bit first. M
ake sure everything looks okay before he goes in."
"So he and the mercenaries will arrive at the same time."
Alison grimaced. "Probably."
For a minute neither of them spoke. Alison ran the scenario over and over in her mind, trying to think of a way to warn him.
But she couldn't come up with one. The only way out of the lifepod now would break the seal, which would alert everyone aboard that they had a stowaway.
She couldn't afford for them to know that. Not yet.
"And Langston is here," Taneem murmured into the silence.
"So it would seem," Alison said, wincing. The StarForce wing sergeant Jack had sprung from unjust imprisonment on Semaline.
Jack had thought Langston died when the Malison Ring mercenaries raided the canyon where Jack had been imprisoned. Clearly, the other man had lived through the experience. And not only had he survived, but he'd apparently made a deal with Frost.
The question was, was it a genuine deal? Or was Langston playing some game of his own?
"It'll be all right," Taneem said. "Jack has Draycos with him. They'll be all right."
"I know," Alison said. She looked down at her hands, only now remembering the ration bars she was holding. "Here," she said, giving one to Taneem. "Eat up, and then we'd better get some sleep."
CHAPTER 7
"Interesting," Harper said when Jack had finished his story. "And you say there's a whole fleet of these K'da things on its way?" He looked over at Draycos, who was lying on the dayroom floor to his right. "No offense," he added. "I didn't mean things."
"No offense taken," Draycos assured him, stretching his forelegs leisurely.
Or at least, it looked leisurely. But Jack knew better. Draycos's posture was calculated to make him look perfectly harmless while he and Jack tried to figure out who Harper really was.
To Jack's private annoyance, he wasn't much closer to that goal than when they'd started.