To a horrifying sight.
In a dozen places the cropland had been littered by rubble from the destroyed stone arches. The three Djinn-90 starfighters were moving slowly along through the air, their lasers blasting methodically away at the ground ahead of them. Golvins were everywhere, running toward the edges of the canyon like panicked ants.
There were bodies, too. At least twenty of them that Jack could see, either beneath sections of the crushed stone or lying in patches of burning crops.
And at the focus of the starfighters' attack was Langston.
He was sprinting across the ground, zigzagging between stands of plants and leaping over the irrigation canals, dodging the laser blasts as Frost's men herded him toward the nearest canyon wall. Behind the Djinn-90s, a much larger deep-space transport was drifting along, watching the scene like an approving mother wolf.
Jack shivered. "They're going to kill him," he said, the words twisting in his stomach. "As soon as they find out he's not me, they'll kill him."
"Then let us make sure his sacrifice is not in vain," Draycos said from his shoulder. "There—across that bridge."
With an effort, Jack lifted his eyes from the carnage below. His pillar was attached to the next by a stone arch, with another arch leading to the next pillar in line. Beyond that, a set of intact guy wires led the rest of the way to the edge of the canyon.
It would be a tricky climb. Tricky and dangerous both, especially with his muscle fatigue and Draycos's injuries.
But Draycos was right. It had to be done. Setting his foot on the arch, Jack looked over toward his goal, the distant bulge in the sand that hid Langston's wrecked starfighter.
He paused, frowning. There wasn't just one bulge there, he saw now. There were two, one much larger than the other.
He was still staring in confusion when the larger bulge stirred, the sand seeming to melt away from it.
And with a sudden gunning of its lifters the Essenay shot over the canyon rim straight toward him.
The ship was hovering above Jack's pillar, its hatch open, before the transport and starfighters below seemed to catch on to the fact that their quarry was slipping from their grasp. But by then, it was too late. The pillar itself blocked most of their frantic laser fire, and the gap they'd cut for themselves in the aerial obstacles was clear down at the other end of the canyon.
Five minutes later, with the Djinn-90s still trying desperately to close the gap, Jack keyed in the stardrive.
Eight men in Malison Ring uniforms were standing guard at the main gate as Alison led her party across the neatly trimmed lawn toward them. "That's close enough," the sergeant in charge warned, taking a step toward her. His shoulder-slung machine gun, she noted, wasn't quite pointed in her direction. "What do you want?"
"I have a group of slaves here," Alison said, taking another step and then likewise stopping. Behind her, she sensed Stronlo and the others doing the same. "All they want is to leave."
The sergeant shook his head. "Sorry. The Patri Chookoock was kind enough to open his gates and his estate for us. I don't think letting his slaves walk out the front door would be a proper way to repay his courtesy."
"Was it courtesy, or was it bowing to the inevitable?" Alison countered. "I saw the force you brought with you. You could have knocked your own hole in his wall if you'd had to."
In the light from the driveway markers she saw his eyes narrow. "You're not a slave," he said. "Who are you?"
"My name's Alison Kayna," Alison told him. "I'm sort of a negotiator."
"For slaves?"
Alison shrugged. "Slaves need someone to speak for them as much as anyone else. Probably more so."
"Probably," the sergeant conceded, his eyes flicking to the mixed group of aliens standing silently behind her. "Sorry, Kayna, but my orders are to keep the place bottled up until the major finishes his search. That means nobody leaves."
"But these aren't anybody," Alison reminded him. "By Brum-a-dum law, they're property."
Behind the sergeant, one of his men stirred. The other mercenaries didn't look all that comfortable, either. "Yeah, I know," the sergeant said, his voice darkening with contempt. "But we didn't come here to free a bunch of slaves."
"You're not here to keep them in, either," Alison countered. "Or did the Patri Chookoock hire you to do that?"
"Hardly," the sergeant said sourly. "In fact, he may be looking down the barrel of some real trouble right now, depending on what the major finds."
"Then you don't owe him anything. Right?"
The sergeant's face pinched uncertainly. "Well . . ."
"Sergeant?" the soldier who had reacted called. "Do we need to keep this gate closed? It's feeling kind of stuffy over here."
For a long minute the sergeant studied Alison's face. Then, his lip quirked. "Go ahead and open it," he ordered.
"The gate squad might object," one of the other mercenaries warned.
"Make sure they don't," the sergeant said flatly. "Janus formation—we don't want anyone sneaking in behind us."
He motioned Alison forward. "You wouldn't mind marching your livestock past my men, would you?" he asked. "Just to make sure the guy we're looking for isn't tucked away in the crowd."
"No problem," Alison assured him, gesturing in turn to Stronlo. The Eytra lined up his people and led them toward the waiting soldiers.
Shoofteelee, the house slave, was the last in line. His face was rippling with Wistawk emotion, his eyes already gleaming dreamily with the glow of freedom.
Alison waited until they had all cleared the gate before stepping forward herself. "Thank you," she said quietly.
"Like you said, they're property," the sergeant reminded her. "You have someplace to take them?"
Alison nodded. "I understand the Daughters of Harriet Tub man have a station nearby."
The sergeant nodded back. "Good luck."
And a minute later, for the first time in nearly a month, Alison found herself breathing free air again.
She'd almost forgotten how good that felt.
Stronlo was standing nearby, waiting silently with his newly freed compatriots. "Well, come on," Alison said briskly, heading down the entry drive toward the public street and the city beyond. "Your future's waiting."
CHAPTER 30
"There were forty-five in all," Alison commented as she sat down across the dayroom table from Jack. "And did I mention they got Gazen along the way?"
"Yes, you mentioned it," Jack said, his eyes on Draycos and Taneem lying side by side on the dayroom floor, talking together in low voices. "I'm glad for you," he added.
"Thank you." Alison gestured. "You always make sandwiches just so you can ignore them?"
Jack looked down at his plate. There was a sandwich there, all right, with two bites missing. He'd forgotten all about it. "I guess I'm not hungry."
Alison sighed. "Look, Jack. This self-condemnation isn't doing you any good. It's tearing you up inside, not to mention making Taneem, Draycos, and me walk on eggs whenever you're around. You've got to snap out of it."
"That's easy for you to say," Jack bit out, his dark depression abruptly turning into anger. "You freed a bunch of slaves. I got a bunch of Golvins killed. And Langston."
To his extreme annoyance, Alison didn't even flinch at his outburst. "You didn't get anyone killed," she said calmly. "Except this Bolo character, and it sounds like he deserved it. Frost's men are the ones who killed Langston and the Golvins and blew up their crops. Not you."
"They wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been there," Jack shot back. "And I wouldn't have been there if I hadn't decided to play detective."
"You weren't playing anything," Alison said sternly. "You were being a Judge-Paladin." She paused. "Like your parents before you."
Jack closed his eyes, tears welling up as the anger subsided again. "At least they only got themselves killed," he murmured. "I did it to a bunch of innocent people."
"Innocent people are usually the ones who get the s
hort end of the stick," Alison agreed. "That's why it's so important to go after the ones at the top. People like Neverlin, Frost, and the Patri Chookoock."
"And maybe Braxton."
"I already told you Neverlin basically confessed to your parents' deaths," Alison said. "Don't worry—if Braxton's involved, too, we'll get him. But right now it's Neverlin we need to concentrate on."
"We?" Jack echoed. "There's no we here, Alison. There's just Draycos and me. Next decent planet we hit, you're gone."
Across the room, Taneem's head lifted, her eyes glittering toward Jack. "What about me?" she asked.
"You go with her."
Taneem's tail twitched. "I would rather stay with you and Draycos."
"Tough," Jack snapped. "You're both gone."
"No," Alison said firmly. "Not if you want to save Draycos's people."
"And who is it who put them at risk in the first place?" Jack lashed out. Abruptly he stood up, his hand snapping up almost of its own accord and slashing toward her face. "You rotten—"
The blow never reached her. In a single, smooth motion Draycos leaped up from the deck and bounded to Jack's side, his paw catching Jack's hand in a solid grip. "She's not to blame, Jack," the K'da said firmly. "Her life was at stake."
"Is that the kind of excuse a K'da poet-warrior would use?" Jack demanded, struggling to get his hand free.
"No, a K'da warrior would have skipped the excuses and used his time to best advantage," Alison said. Again, she hadn't even twitched. "He would have tried to sow dissension among his enemies." She raised her eyebrows. "And he would have figured out what Neverlin's new plan is."
Jack paused in his struggling, his anger foundering against fresh uncertainty. "What do you mean?"
"Remember earlier, when we discussed their plan and decided that Neverlin couldn't get at the Braxton Universis security ships he originally wanted?" Alison reminded him. "I know where he's planning to get his replacements."
"Where?"
"First a deal," Alison said. "I'm in for the duration. So is Taneem."
"This isn't your fight," Jack insisted.
"It is now," Alison said. "Frost tried to kill me." She considered. "And come to think of it, Neverlin still owes me twenty thousand for opening that safe."
Jack ground his teeth. "Why, you—"
"We're in, or you figure it out yourself," Alison said flatly. "Take it or leave it."
Jack looked helplessly at Draycos. But there was no help for him there. "Fine," he growled. "We take it. Let's hear the big secret."
"Uncle Virge, give me a star map," Alison called, taking both her plate and Jack's off the table. "Make sure the scale includes both Semaline and Rho Scorvi."
The table's surface changed, and a star chart appeared. "Now, when Neverlin had me kidnapped on Semaline, he told me the Advocatus Diaboli was four hours away," Alison said as Taneem padded to her side and peered over her shoulder. "Add that to the map."
A small bubble of space appeared around Semaline, marking the farthest distance a ship with the Advocatus Diaboli's speed could get in four hours. "We also know that the ship was coming from Rho Scorvi, where it had picked up Frost and the rest of his crew," Alison said. "Mark that."
A cone appeared on the map, its tip on Rho Scorvi, its edges passing through the bubble around Semaline. "So," Alison said. "Inside that cone are all the places Frost might have been heading when Neverlin diverted him to Semaline to pick me up."
"Big help," Jack growled. "There must be two hundred systems in that area."
"At least," Alison agreed. "One last thing, Uncle Virge: add in the list of systems I gave you earlier."
A dozen spots of blue appeared on the map. One, and only one, was within the cone. "The blue spots are places where the Malison Ring is embroiled in major military actions," Alison said. "Where they've deployed large numbers of troops and vehicles." She paused expectantly.
Jack caught his breath as he suddenly understood. "And warships."
"Bingo," Alison confirmed, sounding very pleased with herself. "Do I need to spell it out any more?"
"He intends to steal Malison Ring ships," Draycos said thoughtfully, finally releasing Jack's hand.
"Or else to fake orders to bring in the ones he needs," Alison said. "Either way, it seriously narrows down his jump-off point. And it gives us something to look for in the data stream."
"That will help considerably," Draycos agreed.
"Thank you," Alison said. "And on top of that, there's still the last advance team safe."
"Which is on Brum-a-dum," Jack reminded her.
"Not for long," Alison said. "After the Malison Ring raid, Neverlin's not going to think that's a very smart place to keep it anymore. If we can figure out when he plans to move it, and if we can get to it, we now know how to open it."
"At which point we can get the rendezvous point directly," Draycos said, a note of cautious excitement coloring his voice.
"Maybe," Jack said, his stomach twisting. So again, Alison had won. He hoped she was properly proud of herself. "Congratulations."
He started to turn away. To his surprise, Alison reached across the table and caught his hand. "You lost one, Jack," she said. "It hurts. I know that."
"Everyone know what it feels like to lose," Jack retorted. "Do you know what it feels like to have people die because of you?"
To his surprise, he saw Alison's throat tighten. "Yes, I do," she said quietly. "You lost this one. We won't lose the next one."
"If we make sure not to focus on the wrong things," Taneem murmured.
Alison frowned at her. "What?"
"I was thinking of Gazen," Taneem said. "He died because he was focused only on me, and couldn't see those behind him."
"He never was much of a warrior," Jack said.
"Jack and Draycos are focused on saving Draycos's people." Taneem cocked her head. "What are you focused on, Alison?"
It was, Jack thought, a blasted good question. "Well?" he prompted.
"Don't worry about me," Alison assured him. "I have all the focus I need."
Jack snorted gently. "That's not an answer."
"No," Alison said, her eyes going strangely distant. "But it's all you're going to get."
"Ah—Wing Sergeant Langston," Frost said as two of the mercenaries brought Langston into the office and sat him down in the chair across from the colonel's desk. "You'll be pleased to know we've finally confirmed your identity."
"Certainly took you long enough," Langston commented, glancing around the room. It was far too nice a place for a simple mercenary colonel. Probably Arthur Neverlin's place, then. Or possibly Cornelius Braxton's.
Frost shrugged. "We had to dig through the missing-inaction files to find you." He smiled tightly. "Fortunately, you were there, and not in the AWOL files. It would have taken at least another day or two to crack into those."
"Don't worry about it," Langston assured him. "The food here is a lot better than the stuff the Golvins fed me for five years. I appreciate your getting me out of there, by the way."
Frost's eyes hardened. "And I appreciate your fine decoy work in helping Jack Morgan slip out of our hands," he said. "That's a professional appreciation only, you understand, not a personal one."
"Yeah, and I'm sorry about that," Langston apologized. "If I'd understood how much you wanted him, I'd never have let him talk me into that. I can probably kiss away the money he promised me, too."
"He promised you money?"
Langston snorted. "Oh, yeah. Some nice soap-bubble sky-mansion about setting me up for life once he took out you and Neverlin."
"Yes, Morgan excels at such promises," Frost agreed. "It runs in the family. Unfortunately for you, even if he meant it, he's on the losing side."
"I'm starting to get that impression," Langston said sourly. "Though frankly, it'll almost be worth the money he's stiffing me to watch him go down in flames. Him and that nasty little pet dragon of his."
"You don't like our noble K'd
a poet-warrior?"
"He could have helped me," Langston said. "He could have come down the rabbit hole with me, silenced those Golvins, then helped me get back up. But he didn't. I don't know what kind of military he claims to belong to, but it's not one I'd ever want to serve in."
Frost leaned back thoughtfully in his chair. "Then perhaps you might be interested in having a front-row seat at their demise?"
Langston smiled. Finally: the invitation he'd been waiting for. About time, too. "Absolutely," he said grimly. "Just show me where I sign."
Timothy Zahn, Dragonback 05 Dragon and Judge
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