The first thing Jack noticed as he worked his way slowly back toward consciousness was that his neck felt funny.
Not that it hurt. It didn't, really. But it definitely felt funny.
Abruptly, he realized why. He was sitting upright in a chair, with his head bowed down toward his chest. The funny feeling was coming from the back of his neck, strained as it was by the pull of his head.
He was fully awake now. But that didn't mean the rest of the world had to know it. There were soft voices carrying on a quiet conversation somewhere nearby, and there was an equally soft light showing against his eyelids. Maybe if he let them think he was still asleep, he would learn something that would help him get out of here.
Or even figure out exactly where "here" was.
It might also be a good idea to take a quick inventory and see what kind of shape he was in. Aside from his neck, which was starting to feel a little stiff now, nothing hurt. Not even his shins, which should still be tender from Draycos's misfired balcony leap. The fact that they weren't meant he'd been kept asleep for at least a couple of days.
A couple of days of travel time? Probably.
Which, unfortunately, meant he probably wasn't on the Vagran Colony anymore.
So much for getting to the spaceport where the Essenay would be waiting. He hoped Uncle Virge had figured that out by now and gotten off the planet.
The lack of pain was the plus side of his physical condition. On the minus side, his stomach felt very empty. Being asleep without eating for a couple of days would do that, too. With his nose six inches from his chest, he also noticed that he was starting to smell a little.
So they'd drugged him with something, tossed him aboard a ship or transport, and lugged him some unknown distance across the Orion Arm. The big question was, where?
The other big question was, why?
"Good afternoon, Jack," a voice said.
It was all Jack could do to keep himself from jerking with reaction. If he lived halfway to forever, that was one voice he knew he would never, ever forget.
It was the cold, heartless, snakelike voice he'd heard on Iota Klestis. The voice of the man in charge of the group sifting through the wreckage of the Havenseeker.
Maybe even the man who had ordered the K'da and Shontine ships destroyed in the first place.
"You can lose the act," the voice said, going even colder with impatience. "My instruments tell me you regained consciousness some thirty seconds ago. Don't waste my time."
Slowly, blinking his eyes a couple of times, Jack raised his head.
He was in a small but very nicely furnished room, seated in a chair across from an ornately carved wooden desk. The way the furniture was fastened down, he guessed he was aboard a spaceship.
A group of lights on the desk had been arranged to shine directly into his face. They weren't painfully bright, at least not once his eyes adjusted to them, but they were more than bright enough to wash out his view of whoever or whatever was seated on the other side of the desk.
He also noted that his hands, resting in his lap, were handcuffed together. He'd missed that in his earlier inventory.
"Okay," he said, squinting his eyes a little against the glare of the lights. Fleetingly, he wondered what had happened to Draycos, then put the thought out of his mind. He had enough troubles of his own right now. "I'm awake. What now?"
"I want your uncle," Snake Voice said, his voice coming from behind the lights. "Where is he?"
Jack grimaced. Obvious, of course. They were busy cleaning up loose ends, and Uncle Virge and the Essenay were a very sizable loose end. "I don't know," he said.
"I'd advise you not to lie," Snake Voice said, his voice going still colder. "We know perfectly well that he didn't simply desert you on Vagran. You either have a prearranged rendezvous point, or else there are several possible places where you can meet. I want the list."
Jack shook his head. "Look, I really don't know where he is," he said, putting some pleading into his voice.
For a moment Snake Voice sat quietly. Jack forced himself not to squirm, wondering what would be next. A major interrogation, probably, as they tried to find out who else he might have told about the K'da and Shontine.
Then, of course, they would kill him. When he didn't come back, he wondered distantly, would Uncle Virge be smart enough to go to the Internes Police with his story?
Would they believe him even if he did? A ship's computer wasn't exactly a legal witness.
"Well, then, I suppose we'll have to say goodbye," Snake Voice said at last. "If you can't deliver your uncle, then you're of no use to us. We'll just have to kill you and find someone else to help us."
Jack blinked again, nearly missing the threat as his brain latched onto the last part of the sentence. Someone to help them? Was this some sort of lame trick?
And then, with a sudden flash of hope, he realized he'd gotten it all wrong. Snake Voice wasn't here to clean up loose ends on the K'da and Shontine thing, because Snake Voice didn't know Jack was the one who'd stumbled into that mess. This was something else entirely.
And they weren't looking for Uncle Virge, the ship's computer. They were looking for Uncle Virgil, the professional thief and con man.
"Wait a minute," he said. "Are you talking about a job?"
"That's none of your concern," Snake Voice said. "My business is with Virgil Morgan, not some half-grown nephew."
"Oh," Jack said, cocking his head a little to the side. "Gee, that's too bad. Because if you want to talk to Uncle Virgil, you first have to talk to me."
"Watch your mouth, kid," another familiar voice threatened from behind Jack.
He looked back over his shoulder to see Drabs standing guard by the door. "Oh, hello, Drabs," he said, waving his handcuffed hands cheerfully. "Lieutenant Raven step out for a minute?"
Drabs started to sputter something—"So the boy knows your name," Snake Voice said icily, cutting the other off in mid-sputter. "Both your names. That's very clever, Drabs. Very clever indeed."
Drabs looked about as unhappy as Jack had ever seen a man look. "Sir," he said, his voice pleading. "It's not—I mean, we didn't—it was the Brummga. He—"
"Enough," Snake Voice cut him off again. "I'll speak with you later. Now. Jack."
Jack turned back to face the lights. "Yes?"
"I don't think you realize the seriousness of the situation you're in," Snake Voice said. "Not only did you gun down two innocent Vagran citizens, but you then fled the jurisdiction."
Jack's stomach tied itself into a knot at the memory. "You mean I was kidnapped," Jack corrected him. "And it was Raven who shot them, not me."
"I have three witnesses who will swear in court that you were the one who pulled the trigger," Snake Voice said calmly. "Assuming the case ever reaches a court, that is. Alternatively, the whole unpleasant incident could simply end up in the Vagran Police 'unsolved' file."
Jack glared past the lights. "The phony theft thing wasn't good enough for you, huh?" he said bitterly. "You had to kill a couple of innocent Wistawki to get me on the hook?"
"In my experience, no one is truly innocent," Snake Voice said offhandedly. "As to the rest, it was you who ruined the previous frame-up."
"Yeah, right," Jack muttered. "Stupid of me. How dare I try to clear myself?"
"And none of it would have been necessary at all if your uncle hadn't made himself so difficult to find," Snake Voice concluded. "If you dislike your current position, take it up with him."
"What, there aren't any other con men in the business anymore?" Jack asked, fishing for information.
There was a short pause, and he had the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that Snake Voice was smiling at him. "Like uncle, like nephew. Virgil Morgan was always squeezing stones, too, trying to pump information out of them."
Jack shrugged. "Can't blame me for trying."
"Oh yes, I could," Snake Voice said. "But I won't. And no, I don't want his con artist skills. What I want is his considerable talent at opening large and well-protected vaults. At that, he's the best there is. And I'm accustomed to having the very best."
"Okay," Jack said. He'd squiggled around long enough, and it was clear now that there was only one way to play this. "What's the job, and what's the pay?"
"As I told you before, that's none of your concern," Snake Voice said.
"And as I told you before, if you want Uncle Virgil you have to talk to me," Jack countered. "I mean, there's not much point in being retired if anyone can get hold of you just by picking up a phone."
There was another silence, a long one this time. Jack kept his eyes focused between the desk lights, trying to get a glimpse of whoever was back there. But the best he could do was a vague outline that could have been a man. It could just as easily have been a shaped bonsai tree.
"I must have missed his retirement party," Snake Voice said at last. "Very well. Drabs?"
A few clunking footsteps, and Drabs appeared at Jack's side, glowering down at him. Gripped in his hand was a small metal suitcase. "You sure you want to do this, sir?" he asked. "Personally, I don't trust this kid farther than I can spit him."
"If he crosses us, you can go to Vagran and watch his execution," Snake Voice said. "Open it."
Still glowering, Drabs hoisted the suitcase onto Jack's lap and popped the catches.
There was only a single item in the suitcase, nestled snugly in the center of custom-fitted foam packaging: a slender metal cylinder, eight inches long and three in diameter. A number was stamped into one end: 407662. There were also a handful of connectors and valves jutting out at various places.
"There's a cylinder just like this one in the purser's safe aboard the passenger liner Star of Wonder," Snake Voice said. "The job is simply to replace that cylinder with this one."
"Ah," Jack said, trying to sound casual. "Just like that."
"Just like that," Snake Voice assured him. "A simple enough job for a man of Virgil Morgan's talents."
"Naturally," Jack agreed with a sinking feeling in his empty stomach. Right. Breaking into a strongly built and heavily protected vault aboard a luxury starliner should be just a walk in the park.
Maybe for Uncle Virgil it would have been. Problem was, Uncle Virgil was dead. "And what's the pay?"
"He gets his nephew back," Snake Voice said quietly. "In one piece, and with no Vagran warrant for his arrest."
Jack swallowed. "Yeah," he muttered. "Under the circumstances, I think he'll take the job."
"Excellent," Snake Voice said, his voice as calm and untroubled as if he'd just closed some simple business deal. "Drabs, have the bridge set up an InterWorld connection to the office here. Mr. Morgan will be placing a call to his uncle."
"Yes, sir," Drabs said, closing and sealing the suitcase again. Lifting it off Jack's lap, he started back toward the door.
Hesitantly, Jack lifted a finger. "Excuse me, but it's not quite that simple."
"No?" Snake Voice asked, a definite hint of threat in his voice.
"No," Jack said. "I'm not calling Uncle Virgil from here. You put me aboard the Star of Wonder, and I'll take it from there."
"Impossible," Snake Voice said. "You're staying here as a guarantee of your uncle's behavior."
Jack lifted his eyebrows. "Then get someone else to do the job."
"You want me to change his mind, sir?" Drabs asked.
"I'd like nothing better," Snake Voice said. "Unfortunately, Morgan will want guarantees that his nephew is unharmed."
"You put him aboard the liner and he'll bolt," Drabs warned. "Sure as anything he will."
"No, I don't think so," Snake Voice said thoughtfully. "He's smart enough to realize that once a warrant is issued on Vagran, he'll never be safe again. Not anywhere in the Orion Arm."
Jack sighed. "Yes, thanks, I've got the message. How far away is the liner?"
"Not far," Snake Voice said. "Across this very spaceport, as a matter of fact. Drabs will take you there and buy you a ticket."
"Fine," Jack said. "What about clothes and tools?"
"You can pick up a change of clothing aboard ship," Snake Voice said. "As for tools, I presume Morgan will bring his own. When you contact him."
There was a slight shuffling noise, as if the man behind the desk was leaning forward. "You are planning to contact him as you promised, aren't you?"
"Don't worry," Jack said, wishing fervently that he did have Uncle Virgil to call on. Or even Uncle Virge. "I know how to handle it," he added, trying to sound like he actually did. "I want my stuff back, though."
"Your stuff?"
"My multitool, EvGa, and tangler," Jack told him. "Your people took them from me on Vagran."
"Of course," Snake Voice said. "Drabs will return your multitool before you board the ship. You won't be needing the other items."
"But—"
"Then that's settled," Snake Voice said. "One final point. The liner will leave here early this afternoon, make three more stops, then reach its final destination twelve days from now. Your uncle has just that long to complete his task. I suggest you don't wait too long to contact him."
Twelve days. Terrific. "Sure," Jack said.
"Good. Any questions?"
"Yes, actually," Jack said. "What's in the real cylinder, and who am I stealing it from?"
"So; no questions," Snake Voice said. "Excellent. You'll be contacted again in twelve days. I trust your uncle will be there to give me good news."
An unseen signal passed, and Drabs got a grip on his arm. "On your feet, kid."
Jack did as ordered. Halfway up, a black bag unexpectedly dropped over his head. "Hey!"
"A necessary precaution," Snake Voice said. "Enjoy the cruise."
They were out of the ship and into a land vehicle before the blindfold came off. Even then, they weren't taking any chances: the vehicle was a closed truck, and he and Drabs were in the back. "First class all the way, I see," Jack commented. "Where do I sleep on the liner, the engine room?"
"Funny," Drabs growled. "Don't worry, I'll get you a real nice double cabin. Like the boss said, we want you to enjoy the trip."
They rode the rest of the way in silence. Jack still hadn't had a chance to check on Draycos, but he could feel some slight movement on his skin now. He hoped the dragon was okay.
Finally, they pulled to a stop. "End of the line?" Jack asked.
"For me, yes," Drabs said. "For you, it's the beginning."
"I can hardly wait," Jack muttered, standing up and heading back to the rear doors.
Drabs blocked his way. "I just have one other thing to say to you," he said, his eyes locking onto Jack's face like twin lasers. "The boss told you you'd be in trouble with the cops if you mess this up. What I'm telling you is that if you duck out on us, odds are you won't have to worry about the cops. Odds are you'll be dead before they ever catch up with you. Get me?"
"Sure," Jack said tiredly. "Matter of fact, I've had about as much of you as I'd ever want. Can we go now?"
For another minute Drabs continued to glare. Then, he smiled. A very unpleasant smile. "Sure," he said. "Let's go."