"Correct," Draycos said. "Uncle Virge is not precisely my oldest friend, but it was the closest line I knew to what we needed."
"Definitely close enough," Jack agreed. "Especially since he's pretty much my oldest friend. What about the others? Uncle Virge said something next about warfire?"
"'The warfire blazes all around, the killing fields do beckon,' " Draycos recited. " 'How shall my warrior friend be found? By curve or straight-line reckon?' "
" 'How shall my warrior friend be found,' "Jack repeated the missing line. "He wanted to know where we were."
"Correct," Draycos said. "As you can see, he understood quickly what I was doing."
"Uncle Virgil always was a smart old fox," Jack agreed. "Your next one was shorter, wasn't it?"
"Yes," Draycos said. "It was the only one that did not come from one of my poems. I created it on the moment to identify the place where we were headed."
Jack gazed out at the stars, thinking back. The dog tells all; the fires blast. Until the fury's spent at last. It didn't make any more sense to him the second time around than it had the first. "You got me," he said.
"Think of the words," Draycos suggested. "Think of where we are going."
"I still don't—"Jack broke off. "You're not serious. 'Dog tells'? Dahtill? Dahtill City?"
"It was the best I could create," Draycos said apologetically. "I hoped he would understand."
"I guess he didn't," Jack said. "You still had a lot more to say to each other."
"True," the dragon conceded. "His next stanza was a question. 'You speak in riddles in my ear. What do you say, what do you mean? While all is dark and dank and drear, how can one silence fears unseen?' "
" 'What do you say, what do you mean?'" Jack murmured. "I don't blame him."
"I then tried to give him a useful clue," Draycos said. " 'By what foul deed is treason learned? By what hand are we crushed? The mines collapse, the cities burned, the fields and vineyards hushed.'"
"The mines collapse, the cities burned," Jack said, nodding. "A city with a mine beside it."
"He understood then, but was not absolutely certain," Draycos said. " 'We sought the city of our foe. They held it strong against our might. But through the desert we did go, and took it ere the fall of night.' "
"The city of our foe," Jack said. "That covers Dahtill City, all right, and probably fifty others along with it."
"But no other is so near to us," Draycos pointed out. "And none that I know of is associated with an important mine. At any rate, I told him he was correct. 'The scoffers say we face the night, that none shall from that road return. But I say that your word is right; the scoffer's words and fears I spurn.'"
But I say that your word is right. "I just hope he really did get the dog-tell pun."
"We shall soon find out," Draycos agreed. "At any rate, he then told me he was leaving."
" 'The world will tremble, warns the foe,' " Jack quoted, just to show he could do it. " 'And all will fall like burning leaves.' Next?"
"'But I must to my friends now go,'" Draycos supplied the missing line. " 'To stand, though none endure to grieve.' "
For a moment the cockpit was silent. "Well, if it doesn't work, it sure should have," Jack concluded. "Pretty classy."
"Thank you," the dragon said.
"You're welcome," Jack said. "I hope you've got an equally clever plan for getting the others out."
"Actually . . ."
Jack eyed him. "You don't, do you?"
"It is difficult to plan with so many variables," the dragon hedged. "We do not know where our enemies will be positioned."
"I thought they were all going to be out looking for me," Jack reminded him.
"Some may be," Draycos agreed. "But others will have stayed behind. At any rate, even the searchers may have returned by this time."
"In other words, you're going to wing it."
The tip of the dragon's tail twitched. "That is not precisely how I would have phrased it," he said. "But it is basically accurate."
Jack sighed. "I thought so."
CHAPTER 25
With Dahtill City five more minutes away, Jack took the Lynx down to treetop height. "I take it we're not jumping out this time?" he asked Draycos.
"Correct," Draycos called from the back, where he was rummaging through the various storage lockers. "We may require this vehicle to move the prisoners. Is its ventral armor as strong as that of the Flying Turtle we used earlier?"
"They're similar models, so probably," Jack said. Not that any amount of armor would do them any good if the Shamshir knocked out the lifters. "Any luck back there?"
"Very little," Draycos reported. "The soldiers must have taken most of the weapons with them on their search for you. I have found only two small MP-50 machine guns, with two spare clips each."
Killing weapons, the kind Jack had spent his life avoiding. "Nothing else?" he asked. "No sopor gas or slapsticks or anything like that?"
"The only other weapons are nine Class II explosive grenades," Draycos said. "There are no nonlethal weapons of the sort you prefer. I am sorry."
Jack grimaced. "Me, too. Well, I guess we'll have to do what we can. Maybe we can just pin the Shamshir down while Uncle Virge swoops in and—"
"What was that?" Draycos cut him off.
Jack threw a quick look toward the horizon, then checked his sensor displays. There was nothing unusual that he could see. "What was what?"
"A small flash of light directly ahead," Draycos said, covering the length of the transport in two bounds to land at Jack's side. "There—it came again."
"I didn't see anything," Jack said, learning forward and staring out into the night. "What did it look like?"
"Like the discharge of a Gompers flash rifle," Draycos said. "As if far in the distance—"
And then, faintly, it came again. A flicker of light, like a small flash of lightning coming from below the horizon. "You mean like that?" Jack asked.
"Exactly," Draycos said. "There—another."
"Someone's doing some shooting," Jack muttered, watching the flashes. "A lot of shooting."
"The Shamshir would not execute their prisoners, would they?" Draycos asked, his voice dark and ominous.
"I hope not," Jack said, studying the flickers of light. There didn't seem to be any pattern to them, no nice neat one-two-three sequence. "Anyway, that doesn't look like a firing squad."
"Then there is a battle," Draycos concluded. "I will fly. You will shoot."
"Wait a second," Jack objected. "I will shoot what?"
"We will know when we arrive," Draycos said, nudging Jack impatiently with the side of his head. "Go. You must prepare."
"But the Essenay's not here yet."
"We have no choice," Draycos said firmly. "We must see what is happening. Go."
Reluctantly, Jack climbed out of the pilot's seat. "I don't like this," he said. "Why don't we land someplace near the city and take a quiet look instead of charging blindly in?"
"There is no time," Draycos said, sliding into Jack's seat and gripping the controls with his paws. "Whether the Agri are fighting the Shamshir, or whether the Whinyard's Edge has launched their own strike, we cannot afford a delay."
"What makes you think that?"
"Call it warrior's instinct." Draycos turned his green eyes on Jack, "Go. Prepare."
"Terrific," Jack muttered, heading aft to where Draycos had laid out the MP-50s. Why the Agri should suddenly have risen up against the Shamshir he couldn't imagine. And the idea that the Edge would have gotten involved was completely ridiculous.
Unless they'd gone to Dahtill City looking for him. Maybe Colonel Elkor was madder at getting stuck up that tree than he'd thought.
He reached the back and picked up one of the MP-50s. For such a relatively small gun, it was awfully heavy. Fortunately, Draycos had already loaded the ammo clip into it, since Jack couldn't remember exactly how to do that. "Any particular side you want me on?" he called.
 
; "Use the right-hand side," Draycos said.
"Okay." Grabbing two spare clips and stuffing them into his jacket pockets, he crossed to the right-hand hatchway.
Unlike the Flying Turtle they'd escaped in earlier, the Lynx had a pair of safety harnesses attached to the bulkhead beside each of the side hatches. Designed for soldiers to use while shooting outside, he decided as he slipped one of them on and tightened it into place. "How am I supposed to know what to shoot at?" he called to Draycos.
"I will direct your fire," the dragon said. "We have cleared the last trees now and are approaching the city from the southwest. Prepare."
Taking a deep breath, Jack got a firm grip on his gun and hit the hatchway release. The panel slid up into the ceiling, and for the second time that night he found himself standing at the edge of a hurricane.
He took another deep breath, his mind flashing back to some of the stupider jobs he and Uncle Virgil had pulled when he was little. Back then, he'd often felt himself standing just like this, balanced at the edge of disaster, waiting for Uncle Virgil to give the signal. Wondering the whole time whether either of them would be alive to see another sunrise.
Here, the sun wouldn't be up for at least a couple more hours. He wondered if he would be alive to see it.
And then, from the cockpit, he heard a startled bark. "What?" he demanded, his heartbeat suddenly thudding extra hard in his throat.
"They are free," Draycos called back. "Observe." He twisted the transport around, sending Jack swinging on his harness halfway out the hatchway.
And as he hung balanced there, he was treated to a bird's-eye view of an amazing scene.
Directly ahead was the landing area at the edge of the city, the one he and Draycos had escaped from. The two Flying Turtles he'd left behind were still there, facing the two Shamshir buildings. From the windows of those buildings a hail of machine gun bullets was blasting out at one of the transports, accompanied by an occasional flash of laser fire.
And at the focus of all that fury, firing gamely back at their attackers, was the rest of Technical Squad Tango Five Zulu.
Jommy and Li were crouched in the open hatchway, Jommy with some kind of machine gun, Li firing blasts with a Gompers flash rifle. Below them, lying flat on the ground behind one of the transport's landing skids, were Rogan and Brinkster, also with machine guns.
Alison was nowhere in sight, but it wasn't hard to guess where she was. Ten to one she was already inside the transport, trying to get it started.
Jack shook his head, half amazed, half annoyed. Here he'd come all this way back to rescue them, and they'd already gotten out on their own.
"You must give covering fire," Draycos called from the cockpit.
Jack took another look. The dragon was right. The squad was fighting back well enough, but unless Alison could get the Flying Turtle started real soon, they were going to run out of ammunition long before the Shamshir gave up and went away. "Right," he called back between clenched teeth. "What do I do?"
A second later he was thrown back inside as the dragon swung them around in a tight circle. Just in time; even as he grabbed for a strap to steady himself, a burst of gunfire raked across the side of the transport, some of the rounds chewing up the ceiling and far wall. "Stay clear!" Draycos shouted.
"You bet," Jack ground out, suddenly remembering what exactly it was he had gotten himself into. This wasn't some practice drill, and those Shamshir soldiers out there weren't firing marker lasers.
Draycos straightened the Lynx out, and Jack pulled himself cautiously back to the door. They had overshot the scene of the battle, he saw, and were coming back around behind the buildings. Apparently Draycos meant for him to shoot at the Shamshir from behind.
That was fine with him. He'd just as soon fire from a direction the other guys' guns weren't pointed at. He flipped the firing lever like the Whinyard's Edge manual had showed, pointed the gun in the general direction of the buildings, and pulled the trigger.
If it hadn't been for the harness holding him up, he would have instantly found himself flat on his back. As it was, he nearly wound up there anyway. The MP-50 had a kick like an angry Brummga, a hundred times more powerful than the simple little tangler gun he was used to.
The weapon also had a definite mind of its own. Even as he staggered backward, the muzzle seemed to jump upward, and before he could get his finger off the trigger his burst had chewed up a little more of the transport's ceiling.
"Jack!"
"I'm okay," Jack called back, struggling back to his feet and trying to salvage some shreds of dignity. "I've never fired one of these things, that's all."
"Come up here," Draycos ordered. "You will fly. I will shoot."
So much for dignity. So much, too, for any possible career as a soldier. Just in case he'd been interested in one. "Sure," Jack muttered, untangling himself from his harness and running forward.
They were nearly back to the edge of the forest now, Jack saw as Draycos hopped out of the pilot's seat and he hopped in. "What do you want me to do?" he asked.
"Take us behind the Shamshir buildings," Draycos instructed. Snatching the MP-50 from Jack's hands, he headed aft, loping along on three legs as he hugged the machine gun to his belly with the other.
"Right," Jack said, sending the transport around again in a smooth curve. He caught a glimpse of the darkened mine buildings as he swung past, and then they were sweeping back toward the firefight.
There was a fresh sound of wind behind him. He glanced back, saw that Draycos had opened the left-hand hatchway door and was crouching beside it. "Better use the safety harness," Jack called.
"I will be all right," the dragon replied. "Just keep your flight movements smooth."
Jack turned back to his flying, feeling his stomach trying hard to turn itself inside out. Now that the element of surprise was gone, the Shamshir weren't going to just sit there and let the intruder take potshots at them.
And indeed, the transport's bow and windscreen were already starting to crackle with the impact of bullets. Biting down hard on his lip, trying to remember Draycos's optimistic assumptions about the Lynx's armor, he forced himself to ignore the deadly hail and to keep his head high enough to see where he was going. From the rear he could hear the chatter of Draycos's gun as they buzzed past the building.
And then, even as he cautiously lifted his head, the landscape ahead of him suddenly flared with light.
For that first awful second, he thought the Shamshir had blown up the Flying Turtle, killing the rest of his squad. Heart pounding in his ears, he swung the Lynx around.
It hadn't been the Flying Turtle that had blown up. Instead, it was one of the Agri hardened-mud huts that was now blazing furiously away. The very hut, in fact, that he'd been locked into after his little chat with Lieutenant Cue Ball.
The hut that had contained, among other things, grenades and spare ammunition.
"Did it work?" Draycos asked. He was at Jack's side now, peering over his shoulder.
"I don't know," Jack said. "How exactly was it supposed to work?"
The dragon's tongue flicked out. "Like so."
To Jack's amazement, the Shamshir soldiers were on the move. Not toward the transport, like they had decided to rush it, but away.
All of them. Running away from the two buildings like the whole Whinyard's Edge was after them.
Jack cleared his throat. "You think they're running because of the risk of burning explosives next door?" he asked carefully.
"Of course," Draycos said, a distinct note of satisfaction in his voice.
"Not maybe because there might be something else in the hut?" Jack went on. "Something maybe a little nastier than grenades?"
"I—" Draycos broke off. "I do not know."
"Me, neither," Jack said grimly. "What do you say we get the squad aboard and get out of here?"
"Agreed," Draycos said. Setting his gun onto the deck, he leaped up and vanished down the back of Jack's shirt. "And Jack?" r />
"Yes?"
The dragon's head rose a little from his shoulder. "Do not land us too close to the fire. Just in case."
CHAPTER 26
Jack put the Lynx down between the burning hut and the squad's chosen Flying Turtle. "Jommy?" he shouted through the open hatchway before stepping into view. "It's Jack Montana. Don't shoot."
"Okay," Jommy called back. "Come on."
Jack hopped down from the door. "Everyone okay?" he called as he hurried toward them.
"So far," Jommy grunted. "Though if Kayna can't get this thing started, that could change real fast."
"I told him it was you," Rogan piped up. The smaller boy was shaking where he lay, but he held his gun bravely at the ready. "I told him. He didn't believe me."
"Don't worry, I wouldn't have believed you, either," Jack said, jerking his head back toward his transport. "Come on— everybody get aboard and let's get out of here."
"We won't get far in that one," Li warned. She gestured over Jack's shoulder with the muzzle of her Gompers. "They got your tanks."
Jack turned and looked. Sure enough, there was a ragged gash in the side of the transport that was leaking fuel like a miniature waterfall. "We'll have to take yours, then," he said. "You said Alison's in there?"
"Yeah," Jommy said, glancing around. "She said she could get it started."
"I'll give her a hand," Jack said, slinging his MP-50 over his shoulder. "Keep a sharp eye. When the Shamshir ran off, I don't think they were really giving up."
He found Alison in the pilot's seat, muttering darkly at the control board. "How's it going?" Jack asked, coming up beside her.
"It's frozen solid," she growled, throwing him a curious look. "So you came back, huh?"
"That's the rumor, anyway," Jack said, leaning over her shoulder to try a couple of keys. It was frozen, all right. "What have you tried?"
"What, are you an expert on computer systems?"
"On breaking into them, yes," Jack shot back, trying to think. The good news was that the computer setup was probably similar to the Edge system he'd successfully hacked into on the leaking shuttle out there.