The returning shuttles arrived sooner than Alison had expected. Far too soon, unfortunately, for Jack and Draycos to have had time to put together a rescue plan.
Neverlin and Frost were probably thinking along the same lines. They wasted no time getting their troops and the safe aboard and lifting off again.
Alison tried her burglar's pickup a couple of times during the flight. But the safe had apparently been secured someplace away from the passengers, and the background rumble of the engines masked whatever anyone might be saying.
There wasn't much conversation going on inside the safe, either. Taneem would answer any questions that Alison asked her, mostly questions about how the K'da was doing. But aside from that she lay quietly against Alison's skin, neither speaking nor moving.
Maybe she was conserving oxygen. More likely she was just terrified.
The flight didn't last long. An hour and a half after lifting from Brum-a-dum, Alison felt the subtle jolt as the shuttle docked with another vessel. A few minutes later the safe was rocked onto a lift cart and rolled through the shuttle's hatchway. Ten minutes and several turns later, they reached their destination. Another short flurry of rockings and bumps to get them off the cart, and the safe came to rest.
And once again silence descended.
For the next two hours Alison kept her microphone pressed against the safe wall, splitting her attention between the occasional and very distant background noises and the indicator on her gas mask canister.
The gas mask was a marvel of engineering. Along with a small oxygen tank, it included a catalytic reactor that could take their exhaled carbon dioxide and split it back into carbon and oxygen. Without such a converter, a mask that size wouldn't have kept her and Taneem alive for even a single hour, and several times during their quiet vigil Alison gave silent thanks that her father had provided her with such exotic and expensive equipment.
But even so marvelous a gadget had its limits. The carbon storage tube slowly but steadily filled with a black, sootlike powder as the oxygen tank just as slowly but steadily drained.
Finally, just under four hours into their ill-fated mission, Alison decided it was time. "It's been quiet out there for two hours," she told Taneem as she put away the microphone and got out her light. "It should be safe for you to take a look."
"All right," Taneem said softly.
Alison pressed her back hard against the safe's rear wall. She felt the familiar movement across her skin as Taneem leaned in her strange fourth-dimensional way over the metal. There was a pause, and somehow Alison had a sense that the K'da was surprised.
There was another wiggle, and Alison looked down through her open collar as Taneem's gray-scaled head and silver eyes slid back around onto her shoulder. "Is it clear?" she asked.
"Very clear," Taneem said. "And very familiar."
"How familiar?"
"Very," Taneem said again, a hint of wry humor finally peeking through her tension. "We're in the room containing the second safe you opened for Colonel Frost on our journey from Semaline to Brum-a-dum."
Alison felt her mouth drop open. "We're aboard the Advocator Diaboli?"
"Unless there are two such rooms," Taneem said. "You're surprised by this?"
"Well, no, I suppose it makes sense," Alison had to admit. "Neverlin will certainly want to be on hand for the big attack. I guess I'm just surprised he'd risk his own ship instead of bunking in with Frost and the rest of his people on their warships."
"Perhaps he wishes to travel in comfort," Taneem suggested.
"There's that," Alison agreed dryly. "Malison Ring ships aren't known for the kind of luxury Neverlin's accustomed to."
"Malison Ring," Taneem said, her voice suddenly thoughtful.
"What about them?"
"I was just noticing the curious similarity between your names," the K'da said. "Alison, Malison. Odd that I never noticed that before."
"Pure coincidence," Alison assured her. "Malison is an old Earth word meaning a curse. I presume General Davi was thinking he would be a curse to his enemies when he set up the group twelve years ago."
"They began so recently?" Taneem asked. "I assumed they were older than that."
"Not this group, no," Alison said. "But they certainly aren't Davi's first experience with mercenaries. He worked for two other groups, and was one of the commanding officers of a third before he started his own."
The K'da cocked her head, an odd-looking gesture as she lay flattened against Alison's skin. "You seem to know a great deal about them."
"Not really," Alison said. This was starting to drift toward dangerous territory. "Everything I just told you is public record."
"Is General Davi's voiceprint also public record?"
Alison grimaced. She'd hoped Taneem had forgotten that part of the trick she and Uncle Virge had pulled on Frost and the Chookoock family. "Like I told Uncle Virge, my dad got that for me. The voiceprints and tonal patterns of important people can come in handy."
"As we saw," Taneem agreed.
"But that's neither here nor there," Alison said, training her light on the inside of the safe door. "Let's get out of here, shall we?"
There were, as she'd noted earlier, several small holes in the inner sheet metal. In the single hurried glance she'd had before shutting them inside the safe, it had looked like the holes would give her access to the lock mechanism.
It took her less than a minute to discover that they didn't.
Don't panic, she ordered herself firmly as she probed around inside with her fingers. The holes had to be there for some reason, after all. If she couldn't manipulate the lock itself, perhaps there was an emergency release back there somewhere. All human-designed safes this big had such releases, in case someone accidentally got locked inside.
But she couldn't find any such switch.
"Is there trouble?" Taneem asked softly.
"I can't find a way to spring the lock mechanism," Alison told her. "We're going to have to try something else. Something a bit risky."
The K'da shifted position on her skin. "I'm ready."
Alison grimaced. It was more than just a little risky, she knew. But with their air running out, it was all she could think of. "You remember that trick Draycos has where he can lean over a wall, like you did just now, only then fall all the way over and come out the other side?"
"Yes, of course," Taneem said cautiously. "He also said no other K'da in history has ever had such an ability."
"I know," Alison said. "But I think you can do it."
"I can't," Taneem said, an edge of fear starting to creep into her voice. "I'll fall off and—I'll die, Alison."
"You won't die," Alison said firmly. "You can do this as well as he can."
"I can't," Taneem insisted. "Draycos is a powerful poet-warrior. I'm not."
"It has nothing to do with Draycos's warrior training," Alison said. "It has to do with you and me. You as K'da, and me as human."
"I don't understand."
Alison wrinkled her nose. This was hardly the time and place she'd planned on springing this on either of the two K'da. But under the circumstances, Alison didn't have much choice. "I know Draycos has been walking you through the encyclopedia section of the Essenay's computer," she said. "Has he shown you the drawings and paintings of dragons from Earth legends?"
"I've seen some of them, yes."
"Didn't it strike you as odd that we would have so many legends of that sort?" Alison asked. "Especially from so many different cultures and peoples?"
Taneem had gone very still. "What exactly are you trying to say?"
Alison took a deep breath. "I'm saying that I think the K'da originally came from Earth."
"That can't be," Taneem said. "Draycos told me his people are coming here from a far distant world in a very different part of the galaxy."
"And so they are," Alison agreed. "But he also says the whole group of them were kidnapped from their home world by passing slavers thousands of years ago. I think they just don't realize how far they traveled before they were able to fight their way free."
"And what of my own people?" Taneem asked. "The Phookas living on Rho Scorvi?"
Alison grimaced. Those Phookas weren't living on Rho Scorvi anymore, she knew. She and her associates had made sure of that. "You were probably survivors of one of the battles the slavers used you for," she said. "You found the Erassvas—or they found you—before your time limit was up and discovered they could serve as hosts."
There was a rhythmic tapping against Alison's leg as Taneem twitched her tail restlessly. "No," she said. "This can't be. You're just guessing."
"There is some guesswork involved, yes," Alison agreed. "But I've got at least one bit of evidence on my side. Do you happen to remember the name Draycos said their original hosts were called?"
"The Dhghem."
"That's right," Alison said, vaguely surprised that Taneem would remember such a jaw-cracker of a word. "A while back, just for fun, I looked it up. Turns out it's the old Indo-European root word for human."
Taneem didn't say anything but just kept tapping her tail against Alison's leg. "I'm not the only one thinking along these lines, either," Alison went on. "A couple of nights ago, while we were waiting for Frost to start moving the Brummgan mercenaries, I caught Jack in the dayroom looking through some of the old Earth dragon legends."
"But how can this be?" Taneem asked at last. "We aren't like any other Earth creatures."
"You aren't like any other creatures, period," Alison said. "I'm just saying it looks more and more like you were originally designed to be companions and friends to human beings. Specifically to human beings, in fact. That's why Draycos can do things with Jack that he couldn't do with the Shontine. Certainly things you and the other Phookas couldn't do with the Erassvas. With a human host, you're finally becoming the way K'da were truly meant to be."
"You say we were designed," Taneem said. "Designed by whom?"
"No idea," Alison said. "Passing aliens, some ancient human civilization's genetic engineers, God Himself. Take your pick. The point is that you and I are the same human/K'da team that Jack and Draycos are. If Draycos can drop safely off Jack's back over a wall, so can you."
"Perhaps," Taneem said. "But whether you're right or wrong, we have no choice, do we?"
"Not that I can see," Alison admitted. "I'm sorry."
The tapping tail slowed and then stopped. "Then I will do it."
"Thank you," Alison said. "All right. You remember that it was the third and fourth indentations. The combination is three-seven-twelve-nine-twenty. You line up the little diamond on the rotator with the right place around the rim, push the center of the rotator until it clicks, then go on to the next one."
"I understand," Taneem said. "Twelve is the one and two, correct?"
"Right, but the dial isn't marked with human numbers," Alison said, feeling a fresh layer of sweat ooze out onto her forehead. She'd worked with safes for so long that she didn't even think anymore about the fact that most of them used entirely different number systems. "When I say twelve I mean the twelfth symbol around from the top. I think it's a squiggle with a short line angled through it. The very top symbol is what I call twenty, the symbol just to its right is one, the next is two, and so on."
"I see," Taneem said. "I should have realized that. I'm sorry."
"No problem," Alison said. "You ready?"
"Third and fourth indentations; three, seven, twelve, nine, twenty," Taneem said. "Yes, I'm ready."
"Then let's go for it," Alison said, pressing her back firmly against the metal again. "Good luck."
She felt Taneem move into position, peering over the wall. There was a moment of anticipation that reminded Alison somehow of her first experience gazing down from the end of the swimming pool's high-dive board.
And then, suddenly, Taneem was gone.
Alison twitched violently in reaction. The movement bumped her head against the self-destruct bomb set into the safe's ceiling.
She rubbed gingerly at the spot. As if she'd needed that reminder that her fate was now directly tied to Taneem's. If the K'da had fallen wrong and disappeared into that strange fourth-dimensional space, then Alison was also dead. Either her air would run out or someone else would open the safe and the bomb would blow her head off. . . .
She was almost startled when, with no fuss at all, the safe door swung open at her feet.
She blinked sudden tears of relief from her eyes as Taneem's gray-scaled face peered in at her. "You were right," the K'da said, her jaws cracking open in a wry smile. "Number twelve was a squiggle with a line through it."
"Ah," Alison said, filling her lungs with fresh air as she worked her way out of the safe. Stretching stiff muscles, she looked around.
The room was dark except for the handful of small red night-lights marking the door and the tastefully concealed emergency kit. Another door led off one of the side walls, its lack of red night-lights showing that it wasn't an exit.
"What now?" Taneem asked quietly.
"Shh," Alison warned, touching her finger to her lips. She pulled out her mascara tube again as she moved carefully to the door. If Neverlin had any brains, he would have left guards outside in the corridor.
He had. Two of them, she guessed, from the sounds of their breathing.
Just as carefully she backed away again to the farthest corner of the office. Taneem, her silver eyes glittering in the darkness, padded silently over to join her.
"There are bad people out there?" the K'da murmured.
Alison nodded. "Two, I think," she said. "But don't worry. It doesn't sound like they're planning to come in and snoop around."
"Unless we give them reason to do so."
"So we make sure we don't," Alison said, trying to think. Originally, a quiet look around had been first on her list of things to do. Once she had some idea of how many men and Brummgas were aboard, she would have a better idea of where the two of them might be able to hide for a few days.
Unfortunately, both parts of the plan required her to leave the office. With a pair of Malison Ring mercenaries standing guard a foot outside the door, that was going to be a little tricky.
"I see no place where we may hide for long," Taneem said into her thoughts. "Unless your breath mask can be restored?"
"It can be recharged somewhat, yes," Alison said. "But not entirely. Certainly not enough to get us through a whole day or more in the safe."
"Then we must find a new place," the K'da concluded. "Shall I begin a search?"
Alison frowned. Then, suddenly, she understood. The last time they were aboard, Taneem had taken herself on a brief tour of the ship's ventilation system. "It could be dangerous," she warned. "And not just from the ducts themselves. If anyone spots you, we're both dead."
The K'da twitched her tail. "So will we be if we stay here."
"I can't argue with that," Alison conceded. She looked around, spotted the vent in the wall just below the ceiling. "Let's get the grille off."
Three minutes later, Taneem climbed up on Alison's shoulders and cased her head and forepaws into the open vent. "It looks clear," she said, pulling her head briefly back out again to look at Alison. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
Alison nodded. "Good luck."
Taneem put her head back into the opening. Pulling with her forepaws, she slid the rest of the way in, and with a flick of her tail she was gone.
Pulling out her flashlight, Alison turned it to its lowest setting and put it into the duct to give Taneem something to look for when she headed back. She then put the grille back into position, fastening the bolts just tightly enough to keep it in place.
And once she'd done that, there was nothing for her to do but wait.