It took a while for Jack to work his way through the masses of tangler threads and get back down the tree. Long enough, in fact, for Draycos to go examine the two more distant soldiers and then return to the four he and Jack had first taken out. "That was fun," Jack puffed as he unslung his gun again and peered in the direction of the creek. "Where are the ones who were up in the trees?"
Draycos twisted his neck back toward the creek. "They don't appear to be approaching," he said. "I do not understand why not."
"Maybe we can find out," Jack suggested. Crouching down, he unfastened the nearest soldier's helmet and slipped it over his own head.
"—not move," a familiar voice growled. Familiar, yet unexpected.
It was Colonel Frost. The man they thought they'd heard leaving the planet.
"The others aren't responding," another voice protested.
"And you think getting yourselves waxed along with them will do them any good?" Frost shot back.
Jack cleared his throat. "Oh, come on, Frost, be a sport," he said into the helmet's microphone. "Let them try their luck. We don't mind. Besides, it's got to be pretty uncomfortable sitting up there in those trees."
There was a brief silence. "Very good, Morgan," Frost said, his voice three shades darker than the night around them. "You and the K'da both. I don't suppose you sustained any injuries?"
"Nothing worth mentioning," Jack assured him. "A few more of your men are a little worse for wear, though. I thought you'd left us."
"I'm not going anywhere," Frost promised coldly. "This K'da of yours is tougher than I expected. Certainly tougher than I was told. I'm beginning to understand why the Valahgua want them wiped out."
"You're probably also beginning to understand why they're sitting behind the lines and letting you and Neverlin and the Chookoock family do all the work and take all the risks," Jack said. "Not to mention absorbing all the damage. You've got to be asking yourself right now whether or not it's really worth it."
Frost gave a soft chuckle. "Believe me, boy, it's worth it," he said. "New technology is the golden ring these days, especially when you have a company like Braxton Universis standing ready to market it."
"Only you haven't got Braxton Universis," Jack reminded him.
"We will," Frost said confidently. "And from what I saw on those Shontine advance ships, we all stand to make a very tidy profit on this operation."
"Your soldiers here on the ground might have a different opinion."
"Soldiers are expendable," Frost said bluntly. "That's their job. Besides, most of them will recover just fine. Your K'da doesn't seem to have the stomach for killing."
Jack looked at Draycos. The dragon's tail was swishing almost gently through the air, but there was a look in his eyes that sent a shiver down Jack's back. "I wouldn't count on that if I were you," he warned Frost.
"Maybe," the colonel said offhandedly. "All I know is that people who hide in the middle of civilians and herd animals are cowards."
Jack grinned tightly. So Frost had completely missed the point of why they'd brought the Erassvas and Phookas along. "Look who's talking," he countered. "You want to come out here personally so we can have this out man-to-man?"
"Don't be absurd," Frost scoffed. "Duels went out with flintlock pistols, and they were never anything but stupid to begin with. But let's talk about you. Aren't you tired yet of running and living off ration bars?"
"Oh no, I love forests," Jack assured him. "More than that, I love taking out mercenaries. You must be running pretty low on them by now. Is that where your ship went? To scare up a few replacements?"
"You'll see," Frost promised. "But I'll grant you that this is taking far more of my time and energy than I'd planned. So what exactly do you want? Maybe we can come to some agreement."
"What I want is to be left alone," Jack said. "But for now, I'll settle for you clearing your tree-sitters out of our way. They can come collect this bunch, and you can fly them back to your base camp to get patched up."
"As I said, no stomach for killing," Frost said contemptuously.
"As I said, don't count on Draycos's kind heart," Jack said, putting some darkness of his own into his voice. "We're getting tired of playing tag out here, and we now have a couple of nicely lethal weapons of our own. So get your men out of our way, and keep them out."
"Or you'll commit cold-blooded murder?"
"I'll commit cold-blooded self-defense," Jack countered. "And don't forget, Neverlin wants me alive."
"For now," Frost said icily. "But that may change. Either way, I certainly don't need to keep those Erassvas or their herd animals alive. Or that girl you have with you, either. Who is she, by the way?"
"Just a hitchhiker," Jack said. "Speaking of hitchhikers, how did you get that tracking transmitter into my ship?"
"What makes you think there was a transmitter aboard?" Frost countered blandly.
"I gather it worked off the ECHO drive," Jack continued. "What did it do, use the drop-power to boost out some kind of signal as soon as we popped back into normal space?"
"Actually, the gadget sends a sort of ripple across hyperspace itself," Frost said. "A nearby ship with the right equipment can pick it up and follow you straight in."
"Cute," Jack said. "Cutting-edge technology, no doubt."
"Not even on the market yet," Frost said smugly. "And when it is, it'll go exclusively to StarForce and the Internos Police. Had I mentioned the advantages of having Braxton Universis in your pocket?"
"Maybe once or twice," Jack said. "So are you going to send someone to pick up your trash? Or are Draycos and I going to have to start clearing the table ourselves?"
"We'll get them," Frost said quietly. "And then we'll get out of your way. For now."
"Good enough," Jack said, an unpleasant sensation at the back of his neck. There'd been something in Frost's voice just then, something he didn't like at all. "And tell Neverlin that the next time he wants to talk, he should just drop me a message on the net."
"The next time Mr. Neverlin speaks to you, it'll be face-to-face," Frost promised darkly. "Good night, Jack."
There was a click, and the comm went dead. "What do you think?" he asked, pulling off the helmet.
Draycos flicked his tongue out a few times. "They don't appear to be coming closer," he said. "I believe he means to do as he says."
"Which should definitely worry us," Jack said, grimacing. "Someone like Frost only pulls back when he's got something else already planned."
"Any idea what that could be?"
"Not a clue," Jack admitted. "Maybe we'll find out tomorrow morning when we try to get through here."
"I was thinking we might want to veer a little ways east or west of this particular spot," Draycos suggested.
"Oh, definitely," Jack agreed. "I didn't mean we'd go through here." He shook his head. "I just wish I knew what he sent the transport to get. More men or more equipment, probably. Either way, we're not going to like it."
"Sufficient unto the day, Jack," Draycos said. "Is that correct?"
" 'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof,' yeah," Jack confirmed. "Uncle Virgil used to quote that one a lot. Usually when he'd messed up on a job and needed some time to figure out what to do next."
"Interesting how many truthful sayings he seemed to adapt to his own purposes," Draycos said. "Perhaps he had more education than he let on."
"Or he just picked it up as he went," Jack said, resettling the strap of the machine gun more comfortably over his shoulder. "Let me grab a couple spare tangler clips for this thing, and then we'd better get back. I just hope Frost didn't hit the camp while we were out here playing soldier."
The camp, to Draycos's quiet relief, was just as they'd left it. The Erassvas were sleeping soundly, with the Phookas either dozing, searching for food, or waiting their turn to spend an hour on their blubbery hosts. If Frost's men had been there, they hadn't left any traces behind, not even any scent.
Draycos was mildly sur
prised to find Alison still sound asleep as well. Up to now the girl had slept lightly, ready to snap awake at the slightest hint of trouble. Perhaps the long days of travel and tension had finally caught up with her. Certainly after tonight's activities Jack was also asleep practically before he hit the ground.
But with Alison, Draycos wondered if it might be more than simple fatigue. Perhaps Taneem's presence on her body was doing something to her.
He gazed down at the sleeping girl, his tail lashing with frustration and concern. When they'd begun this experiment, they'd all assumed it was the Erassvas' sluggishness that was affecting the Phookas. Could it be that it was actually the other way around?
But there was nothing he could do about it right now. Whatever was going on, everyone still desperately needed their rest. Including Draycos himself.
So he would give the perimeter one final sweep, and then he would settle down to rest as best he could. Tomorrow should be soon enough to try to find out what was happening with Alison.
Sufficient unto the day, the thought whispered again through his mind, is the evil thereof.
CHAPTER 20
Jack had hit the ground exhausted, almost too tired to even care that the mercenaries hadn't attacked the camp. He was therefore not particularly surprised when he woke to find sunlight already filtering through the trees and the Phookas in the middle of their morning dance.
Stifling a groan, he worked his way up into a sitting position against a tree, glancing down into his shirt as he did so. Pure reflex; he already knew from the feel of his skin that Draycos was gone. Running the perimeter, no doubt, and Jack grimaced at the thought. No matter how much he tried to help out, the heaviest burden always seemed to fall squarely on the K'da's shoulders.
But he could only do what he could do. Taking a few deep breaths, working the kinks out of his muscles, he watched the Phookas with half an eye while he pulled a ration bar from his pack. Alison had thoughtfully included a variety of flavors, but after three days he was starting to get roundly sick of them. Still, it was better than starving.
He was halfway through his breakfast when he spotted Draycos through the trees, working his way around the dancing Phookas. A minute later, he was at Jack's side. "Good morning, Jack," the K'da said. "I trust you slept well?"
"The sleep of the dead," Jack agreed, peeling back the wrapping of another ration bar and holding it out. "How about you? You get any sleep at all?"
"I had enough," Draycos assured him. Taking the ration bar delicately between his teeth, he flipped his head sharply, and the food disappeared into his jaws. A half-dozen quick chews and it was gone. "I have been around the perimeter," he went on. "There's no scent of the mercenaries anywhere nearby."
"Unless they're sneaking up from downwind," Jack warned, blinking a little as the light westwardly breeze drifted across his eyes.
"No." Draycos was quietly positive. "It would take a much stronger wind than this to keep their scent from me."
"We'll just have to watch out for windstorms, then," Jack said. "Is it my imagination, or are you getting better at sniffing out these guys?"
"It is not your imagination," Draycos confirmed. "In fact, all my senses appear to be growing sharper."
"Good." Jack paused, eyeing the other. There'd been something in the K'da's voice just then. "It is good, isn't it?"
"I don't know," Draycos said. "There is . . . but that is certainly only a myth."
"What is?"
"It's nothing," Draycos said firmly. "I should not even have mentioned it . . ."
"Well, you did," Jack said. "And you're sure not going to back out of it now. Come on, symby, give."
Abruptly, Draycos's neck arched, his crest stiffening. "What did you call me?" he demanded.
"Uh . . ." Jack found himself pressing his back hard against his tree. What had he said? "Just . . . symby. Kind of a shorthand for symbiont. I'm sorry—shouldn't I have called you that?"
"No, not at all," Draycos said, his body relaxing again, a troubled look in his eyes. "It was just that Polphir, my last Shontine host, used to call me that. Had I ever mentioned that to you?"
"Not that I remember," Jack said, frowning now himself. "It just sort of popped into my head."
"I see," Draycos said, his tail tip making slow, thoughtful circles. "At any rate, I apologize greatly for my reaction."
"That's okay," Jack said. "My heart needed a little restart anyway. So tell me about this myth."
Draycos turned his head to look at the Phookas as they finished their dance. "There's an ancient legend that suggests that a K'da approaching death sometimes experiences heightened senses."
Jack felt his stomach tighten around his breakfast. He'd already been wondering if his body might be rejecting Draycos. "Uh-oh."
"But as I say, it is only a myth," Draycos hastened to add. "Recall that back aboard the Havenseeker I was very near death. Yet I experienced nothing like that."
"But in the last month you've taken to falling off my back straight through walls," Jack reminded him. "That's definitely not normal K'da behavior."
"Yet I also feel better than I have in years," Draycos countered. "Whatever is happening, I do not believe I am dying."
"I hope not," Jack said. "I wonder what that might mean for . . ."
He trailed off, looking around as a thought suddenly struck him. Every other morning during this trek Alison had been the first one up and ready to go. Usually she'd been right in his face when he opened his eyes, in fact, nagging him to get his butt in gear.
But this morning, she hadn't yet even made an appearance. "Have you seen Alison?" he asked, getting to his feet.
"She was over there," Draycos said, flicking his tongue toward some of the red-berry bushes where Hren and the other Erassvas were chowing down. "Just past the Erassvas."
"Come on," Jack said, picking up his borrowed machine gun/tangler and looping its strap over his shoulder.
They found Alison lying on the ground on her back, her head partially propped up on a thick tree root. Her eyes were closed, but Jack could see her chest rising and falling rhythmically with her breathing. At least she wasn't dead. "Alison?" he called as he and Draycos approached.
There was no response. "Alison?" he repeated, crouching down beside her and shaking her shoulder. "Come on, girl. Time to wake up."
To his relief, she opened her eyes. But only halfway. "Jack?" she croaked.
"I'm here," Jack said. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," she said, closing her eyes again. "Just sleeping."
"We can see that," Jack said, easing her open collar back a couple of inches. There was no sign of the gray dragon on her neck or shoulder. "Where's Taneem? Alison, where's Taneem?"
"Over there," Alison said, lifting her hand from her lap and pointing vaguely around her. "Hungry. Went for breakfast."
"I'll find her," Draycos said. Turning away, he ducked around the milling Erassvas and disappeared.
"Are you feeling all right?" Jack asked, looking down at Alison again.
"I'm fine," she said. But there was no particular life in her voice, and the words were noticeably slurred. "Just tired. Already told you." With obvious effort, she opened her eyes again. "Anything wrong?"
"Aside from you, no, everything seems fine," Jack said. "Draycos has been around the camp, and says no one's sniffing around."
"Good," Alison said, closing her eyes again. "Maybe we scared them off."
"Hardly," Jack growled. Even in the middle of a conversation she was starting to slip away again. What had Taneem done to her, anyway? "No, they've just switched tactics. Alison?"
"Good," she muttered. "Sure you and Draycos can figure it out."
"Alison?" Jack shook her shoulder again. "Alison!"
But she was asleep again. This time, no amount of shaking would rouse her.
"Blast," Jack bit out, getting back to his feet and looking around for Draycos. The K'da was nowhere to be seen. "Draycos?" he called. "Draycos!"
> A couple of the Erassvas looked up, then returned to their berry picking. "Come on, dragon," Jack muttered, looking around. His gaze fell on one of the matted vine meshes— "You," he said, stepping over to the nearest Phooka. "Yes, you," he said as the animal looked up. "Come here."
He hooked a pair of fingers behind its crest and pulled it over to the vine mesh. "Here—cut this," he ordered, pointing to the vines at the edge of the mesh. "Right here. Understand?"
The Phooka looked quizzically up at him. "Cut," Jack repeated, lifting one of the Phooka's forepaws and making slashing motions across the vines. "Cut. Come on, you stupid—"
"I can do that," Draycos's voice put in from behind him.
Jack looked over as the dragon loped up to him. "There you are," he said accusingly. "Where have you been?"
"Looking for Taneem," Draycos said. "I can smell her, but I don't see her anywhere. She must have gone farther away than usual."
"That's Taneem for you," Jack gritted. "Come on, get this cut, will you? We need something to carry Alison with."
"Can you tell what is wrong with her?" Draycos asked, slashing his claws through the vines at the points Jack had indicated.
"All I know is that I can't get her to stay awake," Jack said. "We're going to need the Essenay's medical diagnostics to get anything more than that."
"You intend to use this vine mesh to carry her?"
"The mesh, and a couple of Phookas," Jack said. "We'll tie it between them with pieces of rope and lay her on it."
"That should work," Draycos said. "Shall I select the Phookas?"
"I'll do that," Jack said. "You go get the rope from my pack."
"Are you certain you are up to the task?" Draycos asked.
"What, picking out a couple of stretcher carriers?" Jack scoffed. "I could do it in my sleep." He looked down at Alison. "No offense," he added sarcastically.
"I meant, are you certain you wish to deal with the Phookas?" Draycos said. "You seem less patient with them this morning."
Jack curled a hand into a fist, a flood of anger and disgust rising chokingly into his throat. Sternly, he forced it back down. "I'm frustrated, that's all," he said.