by Timothy Zahn
"On his arms," Taneem said. "Only it wasn't real skin. Only I didn't know that, and I gasped, and now I think he's coming in after me."
"Okay, just relax," Alison soothed her. "First of all, he's way too big to get anything but his head into the duct. Can he see you where you are right now?"
"No," Taneem said, feeling her heart slowing down a little. Looking down at her paws, she saw that the extra blood from her panicked reaction had turned her gray scales black. "No, I'm around a corner."
"Good," Alison said. "Now tell me: did he jump up and head for the grille as soon as you made your noise?"
From the direction of Harper's room came the faint sound of the grille being pulled free of the duct. "No, he finished pulling off the skin first," Taneem said, lowering her voice a little more. "Then he took out something from the inside of one of the pieces and came over to the grille."
"Then I think you're okay," Alison said. "Just hang there a minute and listen."
Taneem nodded, feeling herself calming down. If Alison wasn't worried, she probably shouldn't be, either. The scales on her paws, she noticed, were starting to go back to their usual gray.
For a moment there was silence. In her mind's eye Taneem saw Harper with his head sticking into the opening, looking both ways down the duct.
She flicked her tongue out a few times, tasting the mixture of human and unidentified scents flowing through the ducts. Some Earth animals, she'd read in the Essenay's encyclopedia, could smell or otherwise sense fear and anger. Distantly, she wondered if a properly experienced K'da could do the same.
And then, she heard the sound of the grille being put back in place. Another minute of scratching as the bolts were replaced, and then all was silent again.
She waited another minute, just to make sure. "Alison?" she whispered. "I think he's done."
"He didn't spot you?"
"No."
"Good," Alison said. "Okay. I want you to look back around the corner—carefully—and tell me what you see."
Taneem frowned. What could there possibly be to see besides an empty duct?
But Alison knew about these things. She must have her reasons. Moving forward, Taneem eased her head back around the corner.
The grille, as she'd guessed, was indeed back in place.
But the duct was no longer empty.
"There's something there," she said, frowning even harder. Was that what she thought it was? "I think—Alison, he's put the two strips of skin into the duct."
"That's what I thought he was up to," Alison said, sounding grimly pleased with herself. "He got the stuff in past Frost okay, but didn't want to risk getting caught with it on him. Literally on him, in this case."
"What is it?" Taneem asked, eyeing the strips with a mixture of fascination and distaste.
"Let's find out," Alison said. "Why don't you scoot over there and grab them?"
Taneem felt her whole body go rigid. "What?"
"Keep your voice down," Alison admonished. "What's the big deal? You sneak over, you pick up the goodies, and you get out. Couldn't be simpler."
"But what if he sees me?"
"He won't if you're careful," Alison said. "Come on, Taneem. If this is something he doesn't want Frost and Neverlin knowing about, we definitely want to take a look."
Taneem curled her tail into a grimace. "All right," she said with a sigh. "I'll try."
She edged around the corner and down the duct. There was no reaction that she could sense. Her heart pounding again, she eased up to the grille and peered through it.
Harper was lying on his back on the bed, one arm across his chest, the other resting across his eyes. Without taking her own eyes off him, she scooped up the two flaps of skin and retreated hastily back down the duct. "I've got them," she whispered to Alison.
"Great," Alison said. "Find a safe place to talk, and let's check them out."
Having already had one narrow escape, Taneem was in no mood to try for another. She therefore made her way to the very back of the ship, to the very end of the air duct system, where she could taste no humans or Brummgas nearby.
Finding a spot midway between the air-pumping room and a darkened machine shop, she laid her new prizes out in front of her. "All right, I'm ready," she said.
"Good," Alison said. "Describe the items for me."
Taneem leaned close, studying the flaps of skin with the light from her own glowing silver eyes. "First are two small, flat pieces of plastic. The end of one of them has a funny sort of shape, like a sort of squished X."
"Does it look like it would snap open into a square shape if you opened it up?"
Taneem frowned. Then she saw what Alison meant. "Yes, it does," she said. "The other piece of plastic is just flat."
"Screwdrivers," Alison identified them. "Probably started out as a set of three, only Harper used the crosshead one on the grille. What else?"
"Two small half cylinders that look like they fit together to make a complete tube," Taneem said. "There's another tube, a solid one, that looks like it would fit inside the other one."
"Anything there that looks like needles?"
"I don't see—oh yes, there they are," Taneem corrected herself. "They're on the other flap. There are five of them."
"Knockout needles, with either a hypo or a spring-load launcher to deliver the goods," Alison said. "Harper certainly came ready for trouble. What else?"
"Two wide, flat, round containers," Taneem said. "Also a flat tube sort of like the one you have for your toothpaste."
"Any writing on either of them?"
Taneem looked closer. "The tube says 'akid well putty.' "
"Acid well putty? A-c-i-d?"
"Yes," Taneem said. "Acid well putty. The round containers say . . . they just say 'keyhole.' "
"Beautiful," Alison murmured. "Thank you, Mr. Harper. Grab everything and bring it back here. We're in."
"I don't understand," Taneem said as she tucked the strips of skin under her forelegs and headed down the duct toward Alison's lifepod. "How can you put a keyhole inside a container?"
"This isn't a normal keyhole," Alison explained. "It's an acid-based paste that's supposed to be able to eat through any normal door material. You're supposed to set it over the lock where it'll either expose the mechanism so you can get at it or else eat away the bolt itself. Hence, keyhole."
Taneem winced. "It sounds dangerous."
"It is," Alison confirmed. "It can eat human flesh even faster than it eats doors. But if you know what you're doing it can get you out of a tight jam."
"I thought you could get out of the lifepod any time you wanted," Taneem said, frowning. "Or did we take it because we don't want Harper getting out of his stateroom?"
"Actually, right now we don't really care what Harper does or doesn't do," Alison said. "What we want is a way to get you back in here with me."
Abruptly, Taneem understood. "We can use the acid against the duct wall!"
"You got it," Alison said. "You saw how relatively thin the metal was where you popped into the duct. That's because the lifepod acts as that part of the ship's outer hull. We shouldn't have any problem making a hole big enough for me to stick a couple of fingers through."
She was right. Following Alison's directions, Taneem first squeezed out a semicircle of the putty beneath the spot where the acid was to go. Then she half-turned the acid container's seal and nestled it against the wall with the putty holding it in place.
The smell, once the acid started working, was incredibly strong. Midway through the operation Taneem had to retreat down the duct and wait near one of the grilles.
By the time Alison called her back, five minutes later, it was finished. The acid had eaten away the metal of the duct, leaving a small hole between it and the lifepod. Again at Alison's instruction, Taneem folded the flaps of skin and their remaining contents and put them gingerly into her mouth. Alison stretched two fingers through the freshly made hole, and Taneem slithered up her arm and back onto
her body.
Taneem had barely made it onto Alison's skin when she leaped out of the girl's shirt collar. In the same motion, she spat the two folds of flesh onto the deck. "Ackleh!" she gasped, trying to drive the taste from her mouth.
"That good, huh?" Alison said, stepping around her and retrieving the flaps.
"No, that bad," Taneem said, wiping her tongue back and forth across the inside of her teeth. "It tastes like real flesh."
"It is," Alison said. Her voice was calm enough, but Taneem noticed she was taking care to touch the flaps only with her fingertips. "You take a sample of someone's skin, grow the right-sized strip in a lab, then paste it back over his own arm or leg or whatever."
Taneem shuddered. "Why would anyone do that?"
"For exactly the reason Harper did it: so you can sneak in your goodies without anyone spotting them." She began prying out the remaining items, again touching the skin as little as she could. "A good scanner will pick up any synthetic you try to use. This way, they can even pull a DNA sample from the fake skin and it'll match up with any other samples they take."
"It's still disgusting," Taneem said. "Is this a common practice?"
"It's a very uncommon practice," Alison said. She removed the last item and began folding the empty skin strips together. "Harper obviously has access to some very sophisticated and expensive equipment."
Taneem thought about that as Alison took the roll of skin to the lifepod's disposal container and pushed it through the opening. "But why would the Patri Chookoock go to so much trouble?" she asked.
"I don't know," Alison said, stepping to the sink and washing her hands. "But your question assumes Harper is genuinely working for him."
"You don't think he is?"
Alison shrugged. "I find it hard to believe one of Braxton's top bodyguards would turn traitor as easily as Harper makes it sound," she said. "And this"—she gestured to the collection of items she'd taken from the fake skin—"looks a lot more like Braxton's budget than the Patri's."
"Do you think Braxton sent Harper to find Neverlin?"
"That's certainly the logical assumption," Alison agreed.
Taneem pricked up her ears. There had been something odd about the way Alison had said that. "Are there other possibilities?" she asked.
Alison smiled. But it was a slightly brittle smile. "There are always other possibilities," she said. "But there's no point in trying to dig too deeply into this. Don't forget, we don't even know for sure that Harper's not exactly who he claims to be. His little bag of tricks could be some game the Patri's pulling on his allies."
"Because they're only allies of convenience," Taneem murmured.
"Exactly," Alison said.
"What about us?"
Alison frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Are we only allies of convenience?" Taneem asked, her eyes steady on the girl.
Alison seemed to brace herself. "We're genuine allies, Taneem," she said, her voice low and earnest. "More than that, I hope that we're friends."
"I hope that, too, Alison," Taneem said. "Because I trust you."
Alison laid her hand on the K'da's head. "I trust you, too, Taneem," she said. "We have to, you know. Because we're all we've got."
"I know," Taneem said softly.
"And we're going to get through this," Alison continued. "Come on; let's get something to eat."
She turned toward the supply cabinet. "And after that," she added over her shoulder, "you can tell me your impressions of Harper, Neverlin, and Frost."
"And the Valahgua?"
"Yes," Alison said grimly. "Especially the Valahgua."
CHAPTER 15
They were on their way to the Foxwolf's Number One weapons bay when Jack felt the sudden change in the air around them.
It wasn't anything obvious or big. Rather, it was a combination of small things. The ship seemed to go oddly quiet, as if dozens of casual conversations had been broken off or reduced to whispers. The background rumble of thudding Brummgan feet likewise softened, as if the big aliens had suddenly found reasons to stand still.
And as the background noises faded, they were replaced by a sense of watchful foreboding.
The enemy was on to them.
I think we've worn out our welcome, buddy, Jack warned as he continued down the corridor.
I know, Draycos agreed. We'd better get to cover.
Jack chewed at the inside of his cheek as he kept walking. According to Draycos's directions, the weapons bay should be right around the next corner. How far is your bolt-hole from the weapons bay?
Not far, Draycos said. In fact, there should be an access point from the bay's interior.
So if we can get in, we can wreck the Death weapon and go straight down the rabbit hole?
Theoretically, yes. But that would require us to get past whatever defenses they've now organized around the Death. I don't think we can take the risk,
I don't know, Jack said thoughtfully. Unless Langston changed his mind and turned us in, they have to still be thinking it's Chiggers going around doing God only knows what. We ought to be able to keep them thinking that way at least long enough to get through the next set of guards.
If that is their assumption, Draycos warned. If not, even now they'll be setting a trap for us.
I'm sure they are, Jack agreed. But even laying a trap implies they don't realize who we are. If they knew they had a K'da poet-warrior aboard, there should be alarms going off all over the place right now. Followed by massive quantities of gunfire.
Assume for the moment that you're right, Draycos said. What would be our plan?
Assuming I'm right, we should still have one surprise attack's worth of slack left, Jack said. Reaching into his side pocket, he slipped Harper's two-shot tangler into his palm. I'm thinking we march straight up to the guards like we own the place, hit them with Harper's tangler, then go in and wreck the Death weapon. Then we do a quick fade into the woodwork and work on our new strategy.
Very well, we'll try it, Draycos said thoughtfully. But save the tangler for future use. When we reach the Brummgas, just get me as close to them as you can.
Okay, Jack said doubtfully. You sure we want to reveal you this soon?
Trust me, Draycos said. Just get me close. And let your arms hang as limp as you can.
Jack frowned. As limp as he could?
But there was no time to ask about it. He turned the corner and found himself once again facing a door and a pair of armed Brummgas. He didn't break stride but continued confidently toward them.
The aliens were trying hard to look casual, and they were doing a rotten job of it. Their postures were stiff, their studiously unconcerned faces included masses of tense muscles in throat and jaws, and their hands hovered way too close to their holsters.
But at least they hadn't drawn the second Jack appeared around the corner. It was looking like his take on the situation had been right. As close to them as I can get, right?
Yes. If possible, get between them.
"What do you wish?" one of the Brummgas asked, his voice as pretend casual as his face.
"I need to take a look at the big gun," Jack said. Staying with his last script ought to make everyone think he didn't suspect they were on to him. That should persuade them to give him a little more rope to play with. "The Lordover wanted me to run a quick check on it."
"Very well," the Brummga said. Unlike the last time, Jack noted, neither of the aliens made any move toward the door release. "Come," the Brummga added, gesturing Jack forward.
Obediently, Jack stepped toward them. As he did so, one of the Brummgas unglued himself from the deck and started forward. Careful, Draycos warned. He's going to try to intercept you, with the other staying out of reach as backup.
I'm on it. Waiting until the Brummga was nearly to him. Jack half-turned as if he'd heard something behind him. As he did so, he gave a little sidestep, just enough to sidle him smoothly past the approaching Brummga. Jack turned back, doing the sa
me step in reverse, and landed squarely between the two aliens. Time you go, buddy.
Arms limp, Draycos reminded him. The Brummga already in motion braked to a halt and reversed direction. Both aliens were now moving in on him. Jack felt a surge of weight on his chest and inner arms as the K'da came partially off his skin, pressing out against his flight suit.
And to Jack's astonishment, his arms abruptly swung upward of their own accord, his hands jabbing straight toward the Brummgas' throats.
There was no time for him to even begin curling his hands into fists. But there was no need. As it had been Draycos's forelegs that had swung Jack's arms upward in the first place, it was also his paws that lifted just far enough off of Jack's palms to slam with devastating force against the Brummgas' throats.
The two aliens dropped like stunned moose, slamming to the deck with a double thud the whole ship must have felt. Quick—inside, Draycos urged as he melted back onto Jack's skin.
Jack jumped over the prone Brummga blocking his way and hit the door release. The door slid open, and he sprinted inside.
To find himself facing three more Brummgas.
They were standing between him and the Death weapon, their mouths widening with surprise even as their eyes began to narrow with anger.
Uh-oh, Jack thought toward Draycos, the momentum of his forward rush faltering. The Brummgas reached for the guns belted at their sides—
With a flash of black-tinged golden scales, Draycos shot out of Jack's collar, his rear paws shoving hard against the boy's chest as he arrowed straight for the Brummgas. There was a blur of paws and tail, and all three Brummgas went down.
"I'm guessing we're finished with the subtle approach?" Jack suggested, rubbing his chest where the K'da's paws had shoved against the skin.
"There was no other way," Draycos said, turning to the Death weapon. "You eliminate the cameras. I'll deal with this."
"Right." Jack leaned down to one of the unconscious Brummgas and pulled out his gun. A single three-shot burst from the weapon shredded the camera over the door. He turned to the one in the corner of the room, waved cheerily at it, and shot it out, too. "Now what?" he asked, tossing the weapon aside and looking back at Draycos.