by Timothy Zahn
"Thank you." Stepping to the desk, he swiveled the chair around and lowered himself into it. "I trust you had a good rest," he continued as Alison perched herself on the corner of the bed facing him.
"I'm feeling much better, thank you," Alison said, telling the complete truth for once.
"Good." Neverlin paused. "Tell me, how soon do you think your father could get a full military force out here?"
"Not nearly soon enough," Alison said. "The refugee fleet could be here, what, as early as tomorrow?"
"Theoretically, yes," Neverlin said. "Though personally I'm not expecting them for another four to six days. But I wasn't thinking about a force for the attack itself."
"Then for what?"
"For the work afterward." Neverlin gave her a small smile, his eyes glinting unpleasantly. "For the looting."
"For the looting?" Alison asked pointedly. "Or for protecting us from any friends Harper might have on the way?"
"You mean his friends in Braxton Universis Security?" Neverlin snorted. "Actually, I rather hope they do show up. The more of them our Valahguan friends take care of here, the fewer I'll have to deal with later when I take over the company. The Valahgua have finished their examination of Harper's body, by the way."
Alison forced herself not to look away from him. "Any surprises?" she asked.
"Not really," Neverlin said. "The Death apparently kills humans as efficiently as it does everyone else."
"An interesting weapon," Alison said.
"Which I hope never gets a foothold in the Orion Arm," Neverlin said, his voice going odd. "That's one of the reasons I was hoping your father could get a force out here, in fact."
Alison frowned at him. "Are you asking my father to help you kill the Valahgua?"
"Perhaps the Valahgua," Neverlin said, shrugging slightly. "Or perhaps others. I presume you noticed Colonel Frost's confrontation with the Lordhighest just before you left the bridge. He nearly came to blows with him."
"I'm not sure I'd call it coming to blows, exactly," Alison hedged. "I've seen you and Frost lock horns as solidly as they were doing."
"Exactly my point," Neverlin said. "The colonel has been growing more and more erratic lately. That's not a good thing for a delicate alliance like ours."
"So you're thinking it might be a good time to clean house?" Alison suggested.
"Something like that." Neverlin paused, considering. "Perhaps both the house and the barn."
Alison stared at him. "Are you suggesting getting rid of Frost and the Brummgas?"
"You said your father wanted a fair cut," Neverlin pointed out. "This would certainly leave a larger share for him."
"It would indeed," Alison said, forcing her voice to remain calm. Neverlin was even more cold-blooded than she'd thought. "How would you explain the loss of his troops to the Patri Chookoock?"
"This is war," Neverlin reminded her. "People die all the time in wars."
"True," Alison said. "Well, it certainly wouldn't cost anything to ask Dad what he thought about all this. How long until the InterWorld transmitter is up and running again?"
"Another hour at the most," Neverlin said. "We've now removed all the bullets Frost fired into it." He grimaced. "As I said, he's getting more and more erratic."
"I wish you luck trying to take his guns away from him," Alison said dryly. "Fine. As soon as the transmitter is working again—"
Beside her bed, the intercom gave a ping. "Mr. Neverlin?" the Advocatus Diaboli's captain's voice came. "Bridge to Mr. Neverlin."
Alison reached over and keyed the switch. "Yes, Captain?" Neverlin called.
"We've got five ships coming off ECHO directly ahead," the captain said.
"Range?" Neverlin demanded, scrambling to his feet.
"About five thousand miles," the captain said. "Correction—there are now twenty ships. No; fifty. A hundred twenty. Good God—it's over three hundred. And they're still coming."
Neverlin looked at Alison, his eyes dark. "The K'da and Shontine," he said. "They're here."
CHAPTER 26
Frost and the Lordhighest were already on the bridge when Neverlin and Alison arrived. Frost gave the newcomers a quick and slightly curious look before returning his attention to the main status board. "What's happening?" Neverlin asked as he stepped to Frost's side.
"Nothing yet," Frost told him. "The fleet is still dribbling in off ECHO, though it finally looks like they're almost finished. Over nine hundred ships so far, including between fifty and sixty major warships in vanguard position."
"We will destroy them all," the Valahgua rumbled.
"I'm sure you will," Neverlin said briefly. "Are we moving yet?"
"Yes, sir," Frost confirmed, pointing at the display. "The Foxwolf's taken point, with us riding her aft starboard flank and Backstop forming up in rear-guard position behind us."
"What about the troop carrier?" Neverlin asked. "Never mind—I see it."
"I've got it limping along after us," Frost said. "A noble and valiant ally who's been wounded but is still trying gamely to stay with us. The Lordhighest says the K'da and Shontine are suckers for that sort of thing."
A brief smattering of alien speech came over the bridge speaker. "That's the fleet again," Frost said. "They've already called once, while you were on your way here."
"Are we going to answer?" Neverlin asked, looking at the Valahgua.
"Not we," the alien said. "The Lordover of the Foxwolf will reply for us."
The alien words came over the speaker again. This time, they were answered, by what sounded to Alison like the same language and a very similar voice. "The Foxwolf's Lordover?" she asked.
"Yes, speaking through a voice changer," the Lordhighest said. "He welcomes the fleet after their long journey and tells them he also brings a new ally."
There was another rapid-fire exchange, followed by another. "What are they saying now?" Neverlin muttered.
"The Lordover speaks of the force that attacked and nearly annihilated us," the Lordhighest said, a macabre amusement in his voice. "He warns that we may not have completely escaped them."
"Very well." Neverlin took a deep breath. "Colonel? Do it."
Frost nodded and gestured to the captain. "Order Backstop Leader to pull forward two hundred yards," he said.
"Will that be enough?" Neverlin asked. "Two hundred yards won't look like much from the Hammerfalls' distance."
"It's more than enough," Frost assured him. "Especially with the troop carrier now falling back from us. A simple ranging pulse between us, the carrier, and the Backstop ships will give them everything they need."
"Hammerfall groups on the move," the captain reported.
Another burst of alien speech came from the speaker, this time with a sense of urgency to it. "The Foxwolf's Lordover has pretended to notice the pursuit," the Lordhighest translated. "He is calling on our friends in the refugee fleet for protection."
"Sir, the Foxwolf is increasing speed," the helmsman said.
"Match him," Frost ordered, his eyes flicking between the forward and aft tactical displays. "Signal Backstop to maintain current distance from us. We don't want the Hammerfalls closing too fast."
"Troop carrier is falling farther behind," the captain said.
"Signal them to maintain their current speed," Frost said. He turned a tight smile on Neverlin and Alison. "Our valiant ally, unable to keep up."
"Six of the refugee warships are moving forward," the captain said. "Angling outward toward the Hammerfall groups. Other warships are moving to fill the gaps."
"They want to help, but they're still not sure about us," Frost said.
"The Foxwolf's Lordover will convince them," the Lordhighest said, a repulsive anticipation bubbling beneath his voice. "Victory is ours, Neverlin."
"Let's not count our profits too soon," Neverlin warned. "Even with the Death on our side, there's still a battle to be fought before—"
He broke off as a small but brilliant flash appeared on the aft
display. "What was that?" Alison asked, pointing to it.
"Some kind of explosion aboard the troop carrier," Frost said, frowning as he leaned closer to the display.
There was another flash, then another, then two more in rapid succession. "What in the name of—?" Neverlin demanded.
Abruptly, something seemed to fade into view beside the troop carrier. Something small and quick, firing its missiles into the carrier's small weapons pods and bridge.
And Alison caught her breath. "Chameleon hull-wrap," she murmured.
Frost swore viciously. "It's the Essenay," he snarled. "It's the damn frunging Essenay."
It had been over three hours since that last communication with Langston and Harper, and Jack had heard nothing else from anyone.
He'd tried to ask for details from the next Brummga who came to change his oxygen tank, hoping to find out what all that had been about. But his vac suit radio was still shut off, and he doubted the big alien had even noticed the prisoner's lips moving.
And then, even as he and Draycos were trying to decide whether it was finally time for Draycos to go on the offensive, the troop carrier gave a lurch and began to move.
Any ideas? Draycos asked.
None whatsoever, buddy, Jack answered grimly, pressing his helmet against the bulkhead behind him and trying to decipher the hums and crinkles he could hear through the metal. It sounds like we're under way, but at only half speed. Maybe less.
More maneuvers?
Could be, Jack conceded. You getting anything?
There was a brief sense of movement as Draycos leaned off his back and peered over the bulkhead. The preparation room is still deserted, Draycos reported.
For a few minutes they listened together in silence. The carrier had turned slightly to port side, Jack decided, and was now heading straight forward. If this was some kind of maneuver, it was a pretty simpleminded one.
And then, the faint engine and maneuvering-jet sounds were abruptly drowned out by a much louder thud. It was followed by another, then another, then by a quick one-two pair.
Those are missile impacts, Draycos said suddenly. Someone is shooting at us.
Are we shooting back? Jack asked, straining his ears. To him, all the pounding just sounded like someone taking a large hammer to the carrier's hull.
Yes, Draycos said. But too little and too late. It sounds like the attacker has finished with the defenses and has moved on to the bridge—
"Jack?" Uncle Virge's voice came from Jack's comm clip. "Jack lad? Can you hear me?"
It took Jack a second to find his voice. "Uncle Virge? Where are you? What are you doing?"
"At the moment, beating the stuffing out of the troop carrier you're on," Uncle Virge said with clear satisfaction. "You're still in the starboard scout ship bay, right?"
"Fine time to ask, but yes," Jack said. "How did you know?"
"Langston told me," Uncle Virge said. "He has your comm clip's frequency and pattern—did you know that?"
"Yes, I gave them to him," Jack said. "How did you get in so close without being spotted?"
"I just drifted in nice and slow with the hull-wrap going," Uncle Virge said. "Turns out it works even better in space than it does on the ground, provided you don't lean on the drive. There we go—all finished."
The impacts, Jack realized suddenly, had stopped. So had the sound of the carrier's drive. "Great," he said. "Now all we need to do is figure out how to get me out of here."
"Leave that to me," Draycos said. "Uncle Virge, bring the Essenay to the starboard scout ship hatch and wait."
You sure you know what you're doing? Jack asked.
Very sure, Draycos said. Back to the bulkhead, please. I'm getting off.
"Destroy them!" Neverlin snarled. "You hear me, Frost? I want Morgan and that blasted kid killed."
Alison felt Taneem stir nervously on her skin. Those were her friends out there. . . . "No," Alison spoke up firmly. "Dad wants the K'da alive."
"To hell with the K'da," Neverlin said, throwing her a quick glare. "Frost?"
"We can't reach them," Frost ground out between clenched teeth. "They're out of range."
"Don't be ridiculous," Neverlin snapped. "Turn a couple of Backstop's Djinn-90s around and deal with them."
"We can't move the Backstop ships," Frost said. "They're the ones the Hammerfalls are watching, remember? You want them to end up falling back, then surging forward, then falling back, then surging forward again?"
"If you think I'm going to let them get away now—"
"Enough," the Valahgua cut him off. "The K'da and his boy cannot harm us. Merely jam all communications so he cannot speak to the fleet."
Neverlin took a deep breath, his eyes burning as he glared at the alien. "Full-spectrum radio bubble, Captain," he ordered. "Lock out everything except ours."
"First signal the Backstop ships to go wide and institute bubbles of their own," Frost added. "And have them spread outward to the sides as far as they can and still keep their bubbles overlapping ours. If we're going to make a blank spot, we might as well make it a good, wide one."
"Yes, sir," the captain said. He tapped a key and started giving orders.
As he did so, Alison felt a movement on her skin. She looked down as Taneem's head slid up her shoulder and neck just far enough to see through the opening in her collar. "Hey," Alison whispered, tapping urgently on her shoulder. If Frost or Neverlin should happen to glance over here, the whole game would be up.
The captain finished relaying the orders and keyed another pair of switches. "Bubble activated," he reported.
Alison tapped again on her shoulder. This time, to her relief Taneem slid back down out of sight.
"Fine," Neverlin said, still glowering at the Lordhighest. "Continue the operation."
With a shove from his hind paws, Draycos leaped off Jack's shoulders, through the vac suit and bulkhead, and into the preparation room next door.
The question of how to take over the troop carrier had occupied most of Draycos's thoughts for the past three days. Without knowing the ship's layout or crew complement, he'd known from the beginning that such an undertaking would have only a small chance for success.
Now, to his relief, all those thoughts and concerns had become irrelevant.
Bounding across the room, he reached the rack of oxygen tanks fastened to the sidewall. There were exactly twenty-eight of them, he noted in passing as he began slashing through the metal with his claws.
Within a minute the rack was wobbling violently back and forth as the compressed air spewed out into the room. Crossing to the airlock that led into the hangar bay, Draycos keyed open the inner door. Waiting until the extra air pressure in the room began to hurt his ears, he slashed through the airlock's inner door.
His eardrums fluttered at the sudden change in pressure as the air in the preparation room began to flow into the vacuum of the hangar bay. Draycos waited, crouched against the wind, hoping the oxygen from the bottles he'd opened would be enough to fill the bay.
It was. A few seconds later, as the pressure between the two areas evened out and the wind slowed to a stop, he keyed open the inner door.
Jack was watching anxiously as Draycos stepped into the bay. The boy's worried look changed to one of relief as Draycos hurried over to him. "I was hoping all that wind was your doing," Jack's voice came faintly through the helmet.
"All part of the plan," Draycos assured him. Five more slashes of his claws, and Jack was no longer anchored to the bulkhead.
"It's always nice when these plans work," Jack agreed as he popped off his helmet. "Come aboard and let's get out of here."
Draycos touched the boy's neck and slithered onto his skin. Jack hurried toward the main hatch controls, putting his helmet back on as he jogged across the bay. He reached the controls, double-checked his helmet seal, and flipped up the opening switch's safety cover. "Get ready, Uncle Virge," he called. "Here we come."
"Ready, Jack lad."
Getting a grip on the handhold, Jack threw the switch.
The hatch slid open, creating an instant hurricane as the air Draycos had just poured into the bay went pouring right back out again. Jack held on gamely until the wind had stopped, then looked out.
Draycos slid up his neck and looked out, too. The Essenay was right outside the hatch, pacing the carrier no more than fifty yards away, its hatch wide open. I guess we jump? Jack asked.
Yes, but not too fast, Draycos said. Remember that the only thing available to slow us down is the airlock's back wall.
Got it, Jack said dryly. Taking a deep breath, he bent his knees, leaned halfway out of the hatchway, and shoved off.
"The Essenay is still pacing the carrier," the captain reported. "No indications yet that the prisoner has escaped."
"That won't last long," Neverlin growled, pounding his fist rhythmically on the edge of the captain's chair back. "All Morgan has to do is blow the hatch, suit up, and unweld the kid from the bulkhead."
"And then get to the edge of the jamming bubble in time to warn the refugees," Frost said. "Maybe we should detach one of the Djinn-90s from Backstop and have it deal with them."
"If the Hammerfall Leaders are confused by one ship out of five being diverted, they have no business being the leaders of anything," Neverlin agreed. "Do it."
"Just a minute," Alison spoke up, leaning toward the display. "Are we sure Virgil Morgan is actually aboard that ship?"
"If it's not Morgan, who is it?" Frost retorted.
"Maybe no one," Alison said. This was one of Jack's deepest secrets, she knew, and she felt a little funny about revealing it without his permission.
But she needed to buy him some time, and making his situation look more hopeless than it really was might do the trick. "I keep thinking about the fact that in all the time I flew with him Jack never once called or met up with his uncle."
"Then who's flying the Essenay?" Frost persisted.
"I don't know," Alison said. "But didn't Jack say his parents had been Judge-Paladins?"