Dragon and Liberator

CHAPTER 11

In that single frozen heartbeat. Jack felt his mental camouflage being stripped away like the wrapper off a ration bar. Not only would Langston know Chiggers by sight; he was possibly one of the few aboard who would also instantly recognize Jack himself.

And with that, the quiet game Draycos had hoped for had come to an abrupt end. The minute Langston spotted Jack and squawked his name, the two Brummgas poking at their access panel would be on to him.

Jack and Draycos had to take all three of them out before that happened.

Jack dropped his hand casually to his holstered tangler. I may not be able to get than all before someone yells, he warned Draycos. As soon as I start shooting, you'd better head forward by yourself to deal with the Death weapons.

What about you?

I'll be all right, Jack told him, knowing full well it was a lie. A single squawk out of any of the three would draw the whole ship down on him. If they didn't kill him outright, they would haul him back to the Advocatus Diaboli and give him to Neverlin, which would pretty much amount to the same thing.

But that didn't matter. All that mattered was that he give Draycos as much time as possible to find and destroy the Death weapons. On three, he said. One, two—

Wait, Draycos cut him off, an odd tone to the texture of his thoughts.

Jack flicked his eyes around the room, wondering what had caught the K'da's attention. There was nothing Jack could see that could possibly help them. He looked back at Langston, bracing himself.

Only Langston wasn't staring at him, his eyes wide, his mouth open, a shout of warning boiling out of his throat.

In fact, he wasn't looking at Jack at all. He was still gazing intently down at his notepad.

And he wasn't walking straight toward Jack anymore, either. Instead, he was angling across the bay toward the patrol ship. "Hey, Chiggers," he called casually, still not looking up. "Good trip?"

Answer him, Draycos prompted.

It took Jack another half second to put his Chiggers face and voice back in place. "I lived through it," he growled. "What's been happening here?"

"Not a thing," Langston said. He raised his eyes from his notepad, but now they were focused on the hatchway leading into Jack's patrol ship. "Looking forward to the big battle, though."

"I'm looking forward to the loot at the end of it," Jack countered.

"That'll be nice, too," Langston agreed. "See you later."

With that, he stepped through the hatchway and disappeared into the ship. Move, Draycos urged.

Abruptly, Jack realized he was standing still, staring at the hatchway where Langston had disappeared. Now, that was just plain unreal, he told Draycos as he got his feet moving again.

Not unreal, Draycos said grimly. Deliberate.

What are you talking about? Jack asked. You saw the uniform. He's gone over to Neverlin's side.

He most certainly has not, Draycos said, his tone leaving no room for argument. There's no possible way he could have failed to see and recognize you. He deliberately gave you a pass. Gave us a pass.

Jack grimaced. The K'da was right. He had to be.

Which meant that, somehow, Langston had talked his way into Frost's crew in order to help save the incoming refugees.

It also meant he was going to be in serious trouble when the balloon went up. Very serious trouble indeed.

I know that, Draycos said, answering Jack's unvoiced thought. So does he.

A shiver ran up Jack's back as he stepped through the door into a long corridor. Once before, he'd thought Langston had gone to his death to protect Jack and Draycos. Now Jack knew the man had lived through that particular ordeal.

Only to now be facing death for a second time. And again for Jack and Draycos.

He is a true warrior, Draycos said. He has made his decision, and his sacrifice. It's up to us to make sure that sacrifice is not in vain.

You got it, buddy, Jack said grimly. It was, he decided, about time he showed some of that determination and ruthlessness Uncle Virgil had hammered into him over their long years together. Let's go find us some Death weapons.

For the first few days of their time together in the lifepod, Alison and Taneem had done little but talk.

Most of the talking at the beginning was on Alison's side as she turned their forced idleness into an impromptu school. She taught Taneem everything she knew about the Advocatus Diaboli, about Neverlin and Frost and the Malison Ring, and more about Brummgas than anyone in the Orion Arm probably wanted to know. The lifepod they were in had some limited flight capability, and she spent one entire afternoon drilling Taneem on the theory and practice of space flight.

After that had come lectures on skulking, information gathering, and combat. Most of what Alison knew about the latter didn't directly apply to K'da, but she'd seen Draycos in action enough times to have some idea how he would deal with various combat situations.

Taneem didn't especially like that set of lessons. She didn't say anything, but Alison could tell. Taneem didn't like fighting, and the thought of possibly having to kill again made her sick.

But she also knew what was at stake. Whatever it took to save the K'da and Shontine refugees, she would do it.

Around the sixth day the lessons had mostly ended. Alison couldn't think of anything else to teach, and both of them were getting pretty tired of the seminars anyway.

After that, their conversations shifted to more personal matters. Alison told Taneem about her life growing up, while Taneem gave what little she could remember about her life as a Phooka.

By the ninth day, they'd run out of even minor things to talk about. Fortunately, the lifepod's equipment included a deck of cards, and Alison spent several relaxing hours teaching Taneem some of the games she and her parents and grandparents had enjoyed when she was a girl.

It was on the tenth day, and she was trying to come up with a way to modify the cards for some of the more specialized games she knew, when she heard the faint warbling of the ship's emergency alarm.

"What's that?" Taneem asked, bounding to her feet.

"Emergency alarm," Alison said grimly, stepping to the door and pressing her ear against the cold metal. She could hear the alarm itself more clearly, but there was no sign of the automated instructions that usually accompanied such an alert. "I don't hear any abandon-ship announcements," she told Taneem, digging out her receiver and turning it on. "Maybe Neverlin's got something to say on the subject."

She stuck the receiver into her ear as Taneem slithered up her sleeve onto her skin. "—want to get up here right away," Frost's voice came, soft and distant. Probably coming from the intercom on Neverlin's desk. "The Essenay has just come off ECHO outside our sentry ring."

"Morgan?" Neverlin demanded. "How in blazes did he find us?"

"I don't know," Frost said grimly. "And it's not Jack Morgan. It's Virgil."

Alison frowned down at Taneem's head lying across her shoulder. Jack had told them that his uncle Virgil was dead.

"Really," Neverlin said. "After all these months of looking for him, he finally surfaces. And at the most awkward time and place possible. Interesting. What does he want?"

"He wants to talk to you," Frost said. "Shall I blow him out of the sky and be done with it?"

"By no means," Neverlin said, and Alison heard the soft creak of a chair. "Certainly not until we know how he found us. I'll be right there." There was the sound of a door opening and closing, and then silence.

"Blast," Alison muttered, pulling the receiver out of her ear. With the conversation shifting to the Advocates Diaboli's bridge, she and Taneem were now out of it.

"It can't really be Virgil Morgan, can it?" Taneem asked hesitantly.

"Not unless Jack lied to us," Alison said, gazing at the door. "Which I'm sure he'd do in a heartbeat if he thought it was necessary."

Taneem lifted her head from Alison's shoulder. "We need to listen in on that conversation."

"I dearly wish we could," Alison said. "Problem is, if we leave the lifepod now we're not getting back in without everyone knowing about it. Remember the seal on the door?"

"What if I simply go over the door?" Taneem suggested. "Or what if I went into an air duct? I think I remember seeing one running along the upper part of the corridor."

Alison looked at the top of the door. The K'da was right, come to think of it. There was a large duct running along both sides of the ship, designed to flood the lifepod boarding areas with air in a hull-breach emergency. "Problem with that is that once you're out there's no way to get in again," she pointed out.

"We have time to think of something," Taneem said firmly. "Right now, we need to find out who this man is and what he wants."

Alison chewed at her lip. It was risky, and they both knew it. Still, even if worst came to worst, it should merely mean moving her private timetable up by a few days. "All right," she said. "If you're game, let's try it."

"I am," Taneem said. "You'll need to get higher up against the wall."

"First things first." Alison pulled out the comm clip that Taneem had been wearing during their hangar raid on Brum-a-dum and clipped it to the K'da's ear. "Just so I don't feel left out," she said. "No, wait a minute," she went on, frowning. "That won't work, will it? You have to go two-dimensional to get over the wall."

"Why not try putting it in my mouth?" Taneem suggested.

"Oka-a-y," Alison said slowly, pulling the comm clip off Taneem's ear. The K'da opened her jaws, and Alison set the device inside between the rows of sharp teeth. "Be careful you don't swallow it."

Taneem nodded and flattened herself again across Alison's skin.

The comm clip didn't reappear. Apparently, it was indeed going along for the ride.

Something even Jack probably doesn't know, she thought as she pulled over one of the lifepod's chairs. Climbing up on it, she pressed her back against the wall above the door, twisting at the waist to give as much connection as she could to the area of the air duct.

She felt a flicker of sensation, and Taneem was gone.

Alison hopped off the chair, praying silently as she turned on her own comm clip. Even Draycos had never tried falling off into such an enclosed space before. If Taneem had miscalculated even a little . . .

"I'm in," Taneem's voice came softy from the comm clip. "Heading forward."

Alison exhaled silently. "Be careful," she murmured.

"Don't worry," Taneem said. "I will."

It was the third time Taneem had been inside the Advocatus Diaboli's ventilation system. The first time, she remembered, she'd been nervous and confused and more than a little frightened. The second time, just a few days ago, she'd been only a little nervous, but very quiet and cautious.

This time, she found the ductwork felt almost like a second home.

Which wasn't to say she could abandon caution. Far from it. The ship had suddenly come alive, with crew members and Malison Ring mercenaries moving quickly through the corridors or settling themselves into various rooms. Whoever this person was who was pretending to be Jack's uncle Virgil, he'd stirred up a stingbug's nest.

By now the alarm had been silenced. Fortunately, there was enough commotion and conversation around her that she didn't have to worry too much about being heard. Still, she made sure to peek through each grille before she passed.

The bridge on a seagoing vessel, she remembered from the Essenay's encyclopedia, was typically on the upper part of the deck. The Advocates Diaboli's bridge, in contrast, was buried away in almost the very center of the ship. It was on the middle deck, a little ways forward of the computer and ECHO room.

She reached the room to find that Neverlin had already arrived. "So far, he hasn't tried anything fancy," Frost was telling the other as Taneem eased her way to the edge of the nearest grille. From her position she could just see Neverlin and Frost, standing behind a pair of men in white uniforms seated at a control board. "He definitely hasn't activated any of his weapons."

"And you're sure it's really Virgil Morgan?" Neverlin asked.

Frost snorted. "I'm not sure about anything," he said. "It could be the Tooth Fairy for all I know. But he is alone out there."

"Are we sure about that?" Neverlin countered. "We don't know what K'da look like on an IR scan when they're plastered across a human body."

"We know," a whispery voice replied. A very alien voice, of a type Taneem had never heard before. "I have studied the readings. The human is alone."

Neverlin turned around. "I see," he said, his voice subtly changed.

Carefully, Taneem moved forward a few more inches, trying to see the being who had spoken.

There, standing behind Neverlin and Frost, was a Valahgua.

There was no doubt in Taneem's mind that that was what this creature was. His head was wide and flat and bony, like a sphere that had been squashed down from above into a flattened disk. Dark eyes peered from beneath a brow ridge, and short tentacles writhed at both corners of his wide mouth. His body was wide and long but oddly slender from front to back.

The upper arm she could see was thick, splitting at the elbow into a much thinner forearm plus a muscular tentacle about the same length as the forearm. The hand at the end of the forearm was clenched into a fist, preventing her from seeing how many fingers he had. His legs were short and considerably thicker than even his upper arms.

The overall effect was as if someone had taken a legless crab and attached it to a wide door, then added limbs salvaged from an elephant, a human, and an octopus. It was a strange and rather ridiculous combination, and under other circumstances Taneem might have been tempted to laugh at it.

But these were the people who had made war against the K'da and Shontine. The people who, not content with driving them from their homes, were plotting with Neverlin and Frost to utterly destroy them.

There was no reason to laugh. No reason whatsoever.

"Fine; so he's alone," Frost said impatiently. Apparently, he wasn't as impressed or intimidated by the Valahgua as Neverlin was. "Can we get on with this before the entire StarForce comes roaring down on us?"

"Calm yourself, Colonel," Neverlin said. He gestured to one of the men at the control board. "Go ahead, Captain."

The other man nodded and tapped a switch. "This is Arthur Neverlin," Neverlin called. "Who is this?"

"Hello, Mr. Neverlin," a voice came over the bridge speaker. "This is Virgil Morgan. I understand you need me."

Taneem felt her crest stiffen. It was Uncle Virge's voice, all right. Which meant that the person they'd detected aboard had to be Jack.

But what in the whole rainbow did he think he was doing, marching up to Neverlin's front door this way? And if the Valahgua was right about Draycos not being in there with him, where was he?

The last time she and Alison had heard from Uncle Virge, Jack had been in jail on Brum-a-dum. Had something happened during their prison break?

Was Draycos dead?

The thought sent an icy flood of fear and horror through her. If Draycos was gone—if it was just her and Alison and Jack now—

She took a careful breath. Panic freezes the will, Draycos's words whispered through her mind.

She would not panic. Whatever happened, whatever had happened, she would not panic. Draycos would want it that way.

"Your information is a bit out-of-date, Mr. Morgan," Neverlin said. "Your safecracking skills are no longer required."

"I didn't say you needed my safecracking skills," Uncle Virge said. "I said you needed me. Tell me, how secure is this transmission?"

Neverlin glanced at Frost. "Secure enough. Why?"

"Obviously, because what I have to say is highly private," Uncle Virge said. "Let me lay it out for you. You've come into possession of one or more safes previously owned by a pair of symbiotic species. For convenience, let's call them, oh, the K'da and Shontine. Inside that safe or safes are supposed to be coordinates showing where a fleet of these beings will be coming into the Orion Arm. You with me so far?"

"Very much so," Neverlin assured him, his voice gone cool. "And not supposed to be. The coordinates are inside."

"What's inside are a set of numbers," Uncle Virge corrected. "No one said they were the actual coordinates."

The Valahgua made a strange gurgling sound. The tentacles around his mouth were writhing like startled stumpgrubs suddenly brought into the sunlight. "In fact, our friends here do say that," Neverlin countered. "Are you suggesting they're wrong?"

"I'm saying, not suggesting, that the K'da and Shontine were smarter than you realized," Uncle Virge said. "Turns out there's a modifier that has to be factored into the coordinates you found."

"An interesting story," Neverlin said. "Where exactly did it come from?"

"A little bird told me," Uncle Virge said. "A gold-plated, sharp-toothed bird named Draycos."

"And you came all this way just to give us this information?"

"I came all this way to sell you the information," Uncle Virge corrected. "More precisely, I came to sell you the location of the modifier data."

"Which is where?"

"Don't worry, it's close at hand," Uncle Virge said. "It's hidden in that impressive-looking ship you've got lying off your port-side bow."

"Of course it is," Neverlin said. "And you'd like us to all go aboard so you can show us?"

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," Uncle Virge said. "Give me an escort and I'll find it myself."

"Very generous of you," Neverlin said. "Tell me something, Mr. Morgan. After six months of dodging us, why are you suddenly being so cooperative?"

"Because I've come to the conclusion that you're going to win," Uncle Virge said. "I like being on the winning side."

"It pays better?"

"Absolutely," Uncle Virge agreed. "On the other hand, you're only going to win if you actually locate the fleet."

"Of course," Neverlin said. "Would you care to tell us how you found us?"

"And where exactly your nephew and his K'da friend are?" Frost put in.

"Who's that, Colonel Frost?" Uncle Virge asked. "Hello, Colonel. Don't worry about Jack and Draycos. I've sent them off on a wild-goose chase that should keep them out of the way until it's all over. As for telling you how I knew about Point Two, I'd be happy to. But only face-to-face."

"You can speak freely," Neverlin assured him. "I trust my associates completely."

"That's nice," Uncle Virge said. "Unfortunately, I don't. So do I get an audience with the new soon-to-be Master of the Universe? Or do I turn around and fly home?"

"Leaving us to wait for the refugees at the wrong spot?"

"Something like that."

Neverlin's lip twisted. "One moment."

He gestured, and the uniformed man touched the comm switch. "Colonel?" Neverlin invited.

"It's a trick," Frost said flatly. "He's up to something."

"I agree," Neverlin said. "The question is, what?"

"He wishes access to the K'da/Shontine vessel," the Valahgua said in his whispery voice. "That is obviously the motive behind this so-called modifier he claims knowledge of. You will not permit that to happen."

"Don't worry, Lordhighest; he's not getting anywhere near it," Neverlin assured him. "But I will admit to being intrigued. Colonel, instruct the fleet to prepare for immediate departure. We'll leave as soon as Mr. Morgan is aboard."

"We're taking him with us?" Frost asked, frowning.

"Him and the Essenay both," Neverlin said. "You have a problem with that?"

"Transporting a suspicious ship to Point Three?" Frost retorted. "Yes, I have a problem with it."

"Would you rather we negotiate with him here at Point Two?" Neverlin countered. "Giving anyone he may have talked to time to catch up with him?"

"I'd rather blow him out of the sky and be done with it," Frost said.

"That would be the wisest move," the Valahgua said.

"Perhaps," Neverlin said. "But as I say, I'm intrigued. Captain, signal all ships to prepare evasive patterns to Point Three. Each commander is to lay out his own course, with arrival six days from now."

The Valahgua alien rumbled somewhere inside his wide head. "I protest this plan most strongly," he declared. "We now take six days to reach Point Three? You had said it would take only four."

"It would," Neverlin confirmed. "But I think a couple of extra days of being undetectable by anyone else in the universe wouldn't be a bad thing right now."

"It could be a very foolish thing," the Valahgua retorted. "The K'da and Shontine could reach the rendezvous in as few as nine days."

"Which will still give us plenty of time," Neverlin assured him. "It's only a couple of hours from Point Three to the rendezvous."

"Is it truly?" the Valahgua asked. "What if this human has heard truly from the K'da?"

"He has a point," Frost said. "Once we're on ECHO we'll be out of communication with the rest of the fleet. If Morgan isn't lying, and if the rendezvous point actually turns out to be more than three days away from Point Three, we won't make it in time."

"Then they'll just have to wait for us, won't they?" Neverlin said tartly. "But they won't, because Morgan is blowing smoke. I'm sure of it."

"Then destroy him as the officer suggested," the Valahgua said.

"Not until I find out what flavor smoke he's blowing," Neverlin said. "Colonel—"

"You risk this mission for mere curiosity?" the Valahgua interrupted.

"I risk nothing, and this is far more than mere curiosity," Neverlin said coldly. "This man knew where Point Two was. I need to find out what else he knows. Before he dies. Colonel, have two of your Djinn-90s escort the Essenay here. While they do that, contact the team on Driftline and tell them to skip Point Two and head directly to Point Three once they've collected the Rhino-10s."

"Yes, sir," Frost said. "What about the Foxwolf?"

"What about it?"

"We still have only the single shift of my men aboard," Frost reminded him. "Do you want to swap the other two shifts back in?"

"What's your recommendation?" Neverlin asked.

For a few seconds Frost stared at the displays. "I'd say no," he said. "If Morgan has some trick planned, I don't want to be in the middle of a personnel change when he springs it."

"Agreed," Neverlin said. "Besides, I'd rather have your men instead of the Brummgas on hand here to watch him. Get the Essenay docked and then bring Morgan to my office." He raised his eyebrows. "Make sure you check him very carefully."

"Don't worry," Frost said softly. "We will."

Inclining his head to the Valahgua, Neverlin headed for the bridge door. Carefully, Taneem eased her way backward down the duct. "Did you hear all that?" she whispered when she was far enough away from the grille.

"Yes," Alison whispered back. "Can you find your way to Neverlin's office?"

"I think so," Taneem said. She reached a cross-duct and backed around the corner into it. "But can't you listen through the needle?"

"Yes, but it probably won't be loud enough for you to hear via comm clip," Alison said. "Besides, I'm curious to find out what this fake Virgil Morgan looks like."

"I understand," Taneem said, turning back into the main duct. "I'm on my way."