Draycos leaped from his collar and landed beside the copilot's seat. "They are here," he said, bounding up into the chair and flicking his tongue toward a section of the control board. "What do you wish done?"

  Jack peered out the canopy at the running battle. "The Djinn-90s aren't expecting an attack from inside the wall," he said. "If we can nail one of them, that'll give Uncle Virge a better chance."

  "Understood," Draycos said. He arched his back over the board, his claws skating delicately over the controls.

  "Holy fra—?" came a gasp from behind them.

  Jack spun around to see Fleck trying to fumble the rifle off his shoulder. "It's all right," he said quickly. "He's a friend."

  Fleck took a shuddering breath, his hands freezing on the rifle sling. "A friend," he said as if trying the word on for size.

  "And an ally," Draycos added, swiveling his long neck to stare back at him.

  "And it talks, too," Fleck muttered. "You the one who took out all the Brummgas?"

  "Every one of them," Jack said. "And we're a little busy right now. Just get Gazen out of here, okay?"

  "Sure," Fleck said. "Okay. What do you want me to do then?"

  "Stand by the hatchway with that weapon," Draycos said. "There may be a way of opening it from the outside, and they may try to rush us as we lift."

  Fleck looked questioningly at Jack. "Do it," Jack confirmed. "Trust me, he's the military expert on this team."

  "If you say so," Fleck said, hoisting Gazen over his shoulder. "Good luck."

  "And don't say anything to the others," Jack added, nodding toward Draycos. "We're sort of trying to keep him a secret."

  "Yeah, I figured that," Fleck said dryly. "Don't worry."

  He left, this time shutting the door behind him. "I am ready," Draycos said. "When shall I fire?"

  "The minute you get a clear shot," Jack told him, peering back at his own board. "I don't want to risk tipping them off by lifting until you've—"

  He broke off as a triplet of brilliant blue sparks flashed out from the shuttle's nose. He jerked his head up, just in time to see one of the Djinn-90s buck violently to the side. Trailing a plume of smoke, it rolled away from its pursuit of the Essenay, dropping like an injured duck.

  "Was that what you wanted?" Draycos asked calmly.

  With an effort, Jack found his voice. "Yeah, that should do it," he managed. Crabbing sideways, the damaged Djinn-90 dropped over the wall into the slave area and disappeared behind the trees. A second later, there was a second burst of fire, and a fresh red glow added its bit to the light from the glider fire.

  Jack caught his breath. The fighter had gone over the wall, without drawing any fire from the hidden weaponry. "Did you see that?" he asked.

  "Yes," Draycos said. "Do you think they have shut down the wall defenses?"

  "Not with a battle going on," Jack said, thinking hard. "It must be a localized thing, probably running off transponders in the fighters. The wall senses when a Chookoock vehicle is heading across, and holds its fire."

  "The Clax-7s," Draycos said, his neck arching suddenly. "They are still on the ground by the wall."

  "And they should have the same transponders," Jack said, feeling a surge of excitement as he threw power to the lifters. "That's our way out. Come on, let's get this thing moving."

  CHAPTER 36

  Gazen hadn't been bluffing about the snipers at the windows. Even as Jack lifted the shuttle off the ground, the hull began rattling with the impact of rapid-fire machine-gun bullets. He twisted the vehicle up and away from the mansion, folding the landing skids in against the shuttle's underside to protect them and hoping Neverlin had gone as heavy on the hull's armor plating as he had on the shock absorbers. Turning toward the glow of the burning glider, he tapped his comm clip. "Uncle Virge?" he called, searching the sky. Wherever the Essenay was, it was somewhere out of his line of sight.

  "I'm here, lad," Uncle Virge came back. "Thanks for the assist."

  "You're welcome," Jack said. "How are you doing?"

  "Not too well," Uncle Virge admitted. "They've just ordered another two Djinn-90s into the air."

  "How soon?"

  "No more than five minutes, I'd guess," the computer said. "And to add insult to injury, it seems that the local law enforcement agencies are scrambling patrol craft of their own."

  Jack grimaced. "I guess they don't like firefights over their cities."

  "Law enforcement agencies are like that."

  "Right," Jack said, putting the shuttle into hover mode over the burning glider and Clax-7s and peering out the side of the canopy. No Brummgas were in sight. "Can you take out that other Djinn-90 before the reinforcements arrive?"

  "Just between us, I wish you'd taken out this one instead of the other," Uncle Virge said, his voice sounding strained. "This pilot is definitely the smarter of the two."

  "Tell him to try a kom treeta maneuver," Draycos called from the copilot's seat.

  "What was that?" Uncle Virge asked.

  "He says to try a kom treeta," Jack told him.

  Uncle Virge grunted. "Hold on."

  Jack clicked off the comm clip. "Something from your late-night poetry sessions, I assume?" he asked Draycos.

  "Yes," the dragon replied. "It is similar to the maneuver we used over Iota Klestis."

  "Let's hope it works," Jack said, easing off the lifters and keying the landing skids to unfold again. "Looks like the Brummgas Uncle Virge had pinned down took off as soon as he left."

  "Yet they did not take the aircraft with them?"

  Jack frowned in sudden uncertainty. Why hadn't they taken the Clax-7s away with them?

  The shuttle was still descending. Kicking in the lifters, he got it moving up again.

  Half a second later, the Clax-7s blew up.

  Jack fought the controls as the shock wave bounced the shuttle around like a hooked fish, throwing them perilously close to the wall. "Check the monitors," he snapped. "See if we've lost anything vital."

  "Right," Draycos said.

  With an effort, Jack backed the shuttle away from the wall and swung it around. The controls were suddenly feeling sluggish, he noted. That was a bad sign. "Status?"

  "We have lost the rear section of lifters," the dragon reported. "The underside has also been holed near the drive engines. We will not be able to escape into space in this craft."

  "Terrific," Jack growled. "Anything else?"

  "Minor sensor and navigational damage. Otherwise, we appear mostly intact."

  "At least now we know why they didn't take the Clax-7s away," Jack said as he again clicked on the comm clip. "Uncle Virge? You still there?"

  "I am, yes," the computer said tightly. "What about you?"

  "Just a little singed," Jack assured him. "Their little booby-trap wasn't quite as successful as they probably hoped. What's happening out there?"

  "The kom treeta worked perfectly," Uncle Virge said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "I dropped him just past the outskirts of town, and I'm heading back to meet you."

  "Great," Jack said. "Unfortunately, my plan for getting out has just gone smokers."

  "How about ramming the gate?" Uncle Virge asked. "Give me another couple of minutes and I can be there to pick you up."

  "It's a little more complicated than that," Jack warned. "We've got passengers along."

  "You've got what? How many?"

  "About thirty."

  There was dead silence from the other end. Apparently, none of Uncle Virge's large repertoire of curses was up to this one. "Jack, lad, have you taken leave of your senses?" the other demanded at last. "Where in the Orion Arm do you intend to put them all?"

  "Don't worry, I've got that part covered," Jack told him. "The only sticking point is how we're going to get out of here."

  "Well, you'd better come up with something fast," Uncle Virge warned. "I've got those new Djinn-90s coming in now from the east."

  "From behind us," Draycos murmured. "Perhaps they thi
nk our sensors have been damaged."

  Jack frowned over at him. The dragon was using that tone again. "Hang on," he told Uncle Virge, clicking off the comm clip. "You have an idea?"

  "Perhaps," Draycos said slowly. "Tell me, how maneuverable is this craft?"

  "It was better before we lost the rear lifters," Jack said. "Probably still pretty good, though."

  "And those landing skids are hinged to the outer sides of the hull, opening outward from the center like standard cabinet doors?"

  "Right," Jack said, frowning. "Why?"

  Draycos bounded backward out of his chair and padded to Jack's side. "Do you have the incoming fighters on sensor yet?"

  Jack checked his displays. There they were: two blips on the screen, approaching the wall on the far side of the Chookoock family grounds. "There," he said, pointing.

  For a moment the dragon peered over his shoulder in silence. "Here is what you must do," he said. "Swing around so that you are facing them. Then drive straight toward them."

  Jack blinked. "Straight toward them?"

  "I will tell you when to turn," Draycos said, jumping up onto Jack's shoulder and melting down his shirt. A quick slither, and he was back in his usual position. "Go now," he ordered, the top part of his head rising up from Jack's shoulder.

  "This is stupid," Jack warned as he threw power to the drive and sent the shuttle curving around toward the approaching Djinn-90s. "I mean, really stupid."

  "So they will think, as well," Draycos agreed. "Trust me."

  Jack shook his head. "I hate it when you say that."

  He turned the shuttle's nose east and sent it speeding across the darkened landscape. Another minute, and he spotted the Djinn-90s' running lights as they flew toward him.

  "They are crossing the wall," Draycos said.

  Jack glanced at the displays. "Right," he confirmed.

  "And again no attack from the wall's defenses."

  Jack frowned. "Is that all you wanted to know? Whether the wall would still let them through?"

  "Partially," Draycos said. "Now; come around a quarter circle to the right and head south."

  "That'll open up our port side to attack," Jack warned.

  "They do not seek our destruction, but our capture," Draycos assured him. "Go now."

  "Right," Jack said, turning the shuttle's nose to the right. He braced himself; but aside from altering their own course slightly the Djinn-90s didn't react. "Now what?"

  "Hold course until you are five seconds from the wall, then turn right again and head toward the gate," Draycos instructed.

  The wall was looming ahead. Jack took them to within three seconds, then twisted the control stick over again, turning his tail to the approaching fighters. This time they opened fire, short pulses that burned chunks of metal and plastic off the shuttle's hull. "Trying to take out the engines," Jack shouted as the wail of warning alarms filled the cockpit. "What now?"

  "Keep heading for the wall," Draycos said, his head lifting a little higher from Jack's shoulder. "And slow down to two-ten."

  "Slow down?" Jack peered at the display. "They're gaining fast enough as it is."

  "Slow down," Draycos repeated, his voice making it an order.

  Jack clenched his teeth and complied. "I hope you know what you're doing," he bit out. "The rate they're coming, they'll be on top of us in no time."

  "Again, they do not wish to destroy us," Draycos repeated. "Aside from your own value, we also have Gazen and Neverlin aboard. As you pointed out, they are merely trying to disable us."

  "Great," Jack muttered. Ahead, he could see the pale white of the wall rapidly approaching. "So what are we going to do? Spite them by getting ourselves vaporized?"

  "Prepare to turn again, this time a quarter-circle to the right," Draycos ordered, his head stretching close to the displays.

  Back toward the slave areas. "Ready," Jack said. The wall was coming up mighty fast—

  "Now."

  Jack twisted the stick again, and again the safety straps pressed into his chest as the shuttle cut hard over. He straightened out—

  And ducked involuntarily as one of the Djinn-90s shot past overhead.

  "Geez!" he hissed. "When did they get that close?"

  "On our last turn," Draycos said calmly. "They know now that you are aware you cannot fly safely over the wall. They see you as racing around inside the estate like a frightened rodent in a cage, trying to escape capture while searching hopelessly for a way out."

  "Yeah, that about sums it up," Jack growled as the dark landscape flashed by beneath them. "So what are we doing?"

  "Lulling them into carelessness—watch out!"

  Jack twisted the stick to the left as the other Djinn-90 flashed past overhead. "Excellent," Draycos said with grim satisfaction. "With no further concerns that we will attempt to fly over the wall, they will now attempt to force us down."

  "They'll need more than two of them for that," Jack said, looking cautiously up through the top of the canopy. The first fighter had returned and was pacing him directly overhead. "They don't have nearly enough mass to push us to the ground."

  "They probably have more ships available," Draycos pointed out. "And time is on their side." He shifted position, pulling his neck back so that only his eyes were poking off Jack's shoulder, and Jack felt his sleeves swell as the dragon's forelegs rose from his wrists. "Or so they think," he added. "Open the landing skids."

  Jack frowned. But this was no time to argue. Reaching over, he touched the switch. "Landing skids opening," he reported, glancing at the indicator. "Locked in place."

  "They see it," Draycos murmured. Jack could feel the dragon's forelegs tensing against his skin, his claws stretching out to rest on the control board. "They believe they have won."

  "Here he comes," Jack warned as the Djinn-90 overhead began to drop toward them. "Trying to make sure we don't change our minds."

  "Yes," Draycos said. "Brace yourself." There was a muffled clink of metal against on metal as the fighter bumped firmly against the top of their hull. Draycos jabbed at the controls—

  And Jack gasped as the shuttle rolled a hundred eighty degrees on its long axis, flipping him over to hang upside down against his restraint straps.

  "Draycos!" he yelped as the drive began to screech with the sudden strain of holding the shuttle in the air without the aid of the lifters. "What are you doing?"

  "Landing skids closed!" the dragon shouted back over the noise. There was another muffled grinding of metal on metal—"Now!" Draycos snapped. "Full speed to the wall!" The shuttle bucked like it had hit a sudden crosswind—

  And then, suddenly, Jack understood. When he'd flipped the shuttle onto its back, Draycos had put the Djinn-90 crowding above them squarely between the shuttle's big landing skids. By then closing the skids, he had caught the smaller fighter like a bug inside the spines of a Venus fly-trap. They were flying as a single big ship now: the shuttle, the fighter . . .

  And the fighter's handy wall-defense transponder.

  "Got it," Jack said, feeding as much power to the drive as he dared. The shuttle was bucking harder as the fighter pilot belatedly woke up to the scheme and fought to free his trapped ship.

  But he was too late. Seconds later, the combined ship shot smoothly over the double breaking wave of the white wall.

  They'd made it.

  "Let him go," Jack snapped.

  "Releasing now," Draycos called back. The bucking ceased as the dragon opened the landing skids again and the trapped fighter darted free. "Turn us over again and I will go back to the weapons board."

  "Forget the weapons," Jack said, rolling the shuttle and dropping thankfully back into his seat as the vehicle righted itself. He got his bearings and made a hard turn to the left. "We won't be in the air long enough to bother with that."

  "But there is yet a long way to go before we are free," Draycos objected.

  "Not really," Jack said, tapping his comm clip as he fought the shuttle's controls.
"Uncle Virge?"

  "Here, lad," Uncle Virge said. "Shall I come get you?"

  "No," Jack said. "Head off-planet—Station C. I'll catch up with you there."

  "Right. Good luck."

  Jack clicked off. There was his target, straight ahead. "Draycos, can you find the ship's intercom?"

  "There." A K'da foreleg rose from Jack's arm again, pointing.

  "Thanks." Jack hit the switch. "Brace yourselves, everyone," he called to the passenger section. "As soon as we're down, unstrap and make for the hatchway. We aren't going to have a lot of time."

  He keyed the intercom off and twisted the nose high. An instant later, the shuttle hit the ground, sliding along on its skids with a tortured squeal of stressed metal. It made maybe another fifty yards before finally grinding to a halt.

  "Everyone out," Jack shouted back toward the door as he untangled himself from his straps. "Nice landing, huh?" he added to Draycos.

  "Very similar to the Havenseeker's final flight," Draycos said, a little too dryly. "What now?"

  Jack smiled as he made for the door. "We take them to the one place in this part of Brum-a-dum where escaped slaves will be safe."

  The Djinn-90s were circling overhead as Jack sprinted along the street. "Where are we going?" Fleck asked as he caught up with him, the borrowed laser rifle held ready.

  "There," Jack said, pointing ahead past the glowing sign on its decorative post. "Get ready to blast the door open if we have to."

  The weapon wasn't necessary. Not only was the door not locked, but it even opened as Jack ran up the steps. "Yes?" asked the thin woman standing in the doorway, goggling at the crumpled shuttle behind him.

  "My name's Jack McCoy," Jack panted, braking to a halt. "I have some escaped slaves with me. We claim sanctuary with the Daughters of Harriet Tubman and the Internes government."

  The woman lifted her eyebrows, her gaze flicking along the line of ragged slaves coming uncertainly up her walkway. "Well," she said calmly. "You'd all better come inside."

  "Thanks." Brushing past her, Jack headed down a darkened hallway.

  He was halfway along it when someone caught his arm. "Hold on," Fleck's voice murmured in his ear.