"I'm touched," said Kitten in a voice that would chill molten copper.
"He does dote on the kid," Mal added.
"I am sorry for that," she continued in the same tones. "I had hoped his imminent extinction wouldn't inconvenience anyone else. I still can't really believe it would. Still," she continued a little easier, "to know that you've actually seen the stuff ... "
"About that. Appears that Rose's latest shipment accidentally got mixed in with Kingsley's cargo. Mixup was discovered accidentally by Rose, intentionally by two of his operatives, and accidentally by me. I came here with the idea of striking a bargain: In return for him halting traffic in the jaster, I wouldn't go to the authorities with enough warrant for a mindwipe. Don't get me wrong. Most drugs I could care less about-let the idiots who need them have 'em. May they kill themselves off quickly and quietly. Bloodhype is something else. It sheds filth on everyone who's seen what it does. I've seen ... but instead, I had to use it to bargain you two out. He fully intended to kill you, you know."
"You still shouldn't have agreed to it," Kitten said.
"You had no say in the matter," replied Mal.
"Suppose I kill myself now and Porsupah does likewise?"
"Fine. Then he threatens to kill me unless I have the drug turned over to him. If you take away his major bargaining point he'll forget niceties and try something like that. And I'd give him the drug to save myself, selfish fella that I am."
"I see." She sighed deeply. "I apologize for the difficulty we've caused you, Captain Hammurabi."
"Mal," he said.
"All right ... Captain Mal." She grinned, frowned, got confused. "I can't let you do it. Do you really know what that stuff does to people?"
"A good deal better than you, I suspect, infant."
"Call me that again and I'll break your arm."
Mal smiled. "Might be you could at that. Point remains, however, that I've already made arrangements for the exchange to be carried out."
"There's no way to cancel it?" Porsupah interrupted.
"Oh, if I could get to a transceiver-say, the one on the raft that brought me-before Rose's contact receives the drugs, it could be done. I'd consider that a very unlikely possibility, however-even if I wanted to do it, which I don't. See, I intend not only to save my own life but yours too. Even if you don't appear to value it too highly."
"It remains a question of proportion, Captain," began the Tolian philosophically. "The number of lives at stake here far exceeds three. And despite what you may think, I happen to have become quite attached to mine."
"Right on both counts," Kitten added.
Mal was getting a bit exasperated. This damsel-in-distress was not reacting properly at the prospect of salvation.
"Listen, you altruistic femin ...!" he began heatedly.
She glared back at him, and seemed quite willing to shift the argument to a physical level.
Auspiciously, the door chimed. Porsupah threw them both a look that was more wilting than any words could have been, and they relaxed-somewhat. The Tolian spoke towards the door pickup.
"We can't lock ourselves in, you know."
The panel slid back to reveal the tall figure of Mal's young guide. The youth carried a tray filled with a multitude of small dishes: white-brown shellfish, bread, several kinds of butter and other condiments, cinnamon bark, steamed tubers, smoked snails ...
"They called me to the kitchen," he said as he set down the tray, "and ordered me to bring this to you."
Porsupah and Kitten saw the flying snake at the same time. They froze.
"Don't worry," said Mal easily. "It seems pretty tame."
"I know what one of those things can do," replied Kitten as she edged over towards Mal. "Victims don't die easily." He resisted an impulse to put an arm around her. She might decide to break it.
The youth straightened and turned to leave, then paused and looked back at Mal.
"You're being restrained against your will, aren't you?"
"I'd sort of think it was obvious," said Kitten.
"Not necessarily. His Lordship often has guests whose status is not what it seems." He rubbed the scales at the back of his pet's head. The snake looked up, then relaxed on the lanky shoulder.
"I might say that I know about the drug, sir." Three faces looked up in surprise. "Your arrival has made it easier for me to find out some things I'd been curious about for a long time. It's not very pretty." There was a long pause, then the youngster stared sharply at Mal. "If I help you escape, will you promise to see that something's done about it? The drug, I mean."
Kitten leaned forward eagerly. "You really think you can get us out of here?"
Philip smiled at her most unyouthfully. "If you don't fear a fair chance of getting shot, electrocuted, or drowned, yes."
"You know a way out of this maze, we'll try it," Mal replied.
"Not only wilt we see about the drug," added Kitten coaxingly, "but I'm sure the government will arrange something material ha the way of gratitude."
"And protection from whatever is left of Rose's petty empire when the Church finishes with it," added Porsupah.
The youngster looked over at the much smaller alien. When he spoke again, his voice was a good octave higher and the words momentarily unrecognizable. Mal knew a little Tolian, as he did about half a hundred languages. Only enough to trade by, though. The musical syllables rolled off the youth's palate fluidly and without hesitation.
Philip broke off in what seemed an abrupt manner but probably wasn't. He left, the panel sliding shut quietly behind him.
"Well," said Kitten, "what was that all about?"
"His High Tolite is excellent, really remarkable. He even has the diphthongs down, the epiglottal stops, everything."
"I'm sure he can rattle off the local equivalents of c-a-t and d-o-g without a second breath," said Kitten, "but what did he say?"
Mal was looking at the closed portal. "Rather surprising talent to find in an apprentice sanitation engineer, wouldn't you say?"
"Is that what he is?" asked Porsupah. "'Well, besides exchanging a regional prayer with me-nice to hear the amenities again-he just asked us to wait. Said he'd return soon and to be ready. He reiterated his feelings about the drug traffic and disclaimed any need for protection. Said he would take care of himself."
"Also pretty cocky for an apprentice sanitation engineer," Kitten said. "No matter, if he can slip us out."
"He added that he hoped both of you were strong swimmers." Porsupah sat down and began to remove his flexible mukluks. He wiggled each webbed bind foot as it appeared. "The question, of course, did not arise in respect to myself."
"Really think he can get us out?" Mal queried. He was interested in the little alien's opinion of their youthful benefactor.
"Why ask me?" Naked, the furry Tolian walked over to the table where the tray of delicacies had been set. He commenced a serious study of the smoked escargot.
"I can say with assurance, however, that I intend to do nothing for the next several minutes, barring earthquake or Redemption, but eat. I've had nothing in my belly since we arrived here save memories."
"Just don't overdo it," said Kitten, moving to join him. "It seems we're in for an extensive journey by water. And if you get a cramp out there, I'm sure as hell not towing you."
They were down to the last pair of hors d' oeuvres and Mal was dreaming of distant steaks when the youngster returned. His clothes were dirty, with patches of grime and oil staining the coveralls. The flying snake was perched on its same shoulder. It was coiled tight, the triangular head holding steady and unwinking a foot in the air. The pleated wings were only half furled, ready for instant flight. The snake gave them a soulless once over, decided that no one in the room was a candidate for instant destruction, and relaxed somewhat.
Philip's voice was low and he was panting hard but evenly.
"After me now, quickly!" Without looking back he turned and left.
They followed. In the l
ead, Mal saw that the youth was already at the end of one hallway, waiting where it intersected another. As soon as he spotted Mal, the youngster disappeared around the corner. He reappeared a moment later and beckoned urgently. They ran to join him.
"Stay low and quiet, and along the far side," he whispered. "And watch out for the bodies."
He turned and led them up a corridor.
They passed several doors, all unopened. Once their guide gestured for a halt and they all froze while voices got louder somewhere up ahead, then faded. They continued forward. The only sound was of controlled breathing. They came to a door set in a low recess, which was slightly ajar. Philip disappeared inside, returned almost immediately. Kitten and Mal both had to stoop to get through the sub-two-meter overhead. Mal noticed the metal engraving in the door.
BIOENGINEERING PERSONNEL ONLY
ADMITTANCE RESTRICTED
Besides bending, Mal and Kitten had to step high to avoid stumbling over the two corpses that lay crumpled just inside the entrance. Even in the dim light Mal could tell how one had died, from the unnatural angle at which his head rested. Dressed in mechanic's overalls, the other lay prone with an unfired sonic pistol in one hand. His other hand covered most of his face. Which was just as well, if the long grooves seared into the revealed cheek were any indication of what lay beneath. Milk-white bone gleamed at the bottom of one groove. The muscles in the man's face and arm were frozen at full contraction. What the hand covered would not be pretty, no. The flying snake had been at work here.
Kitten was busy examining the numerous long tunnels which led from the small room. Clearly they were in the maintenance arteries of the island. Water trickled along the floor of several dark corridors, disappeared into unseen drains. The natural stone walls were damp at the entrances to some, hot and dry at others. None rose higher than the cramping height of the room they were in. Philip turned without speaking and plunged down the one closest on their left. At least it was a little wider, if not really spacious.
There was barely enough light from the widely spaced red fluorescents to make out the form of the lanky youth moving ahead of them. The otherworldly figure moved with a slightly bloody tinge to it from the safety lights. It was leading them who knew where? Maybe it was all a stunt of then captor's. Kitten had experienced his sense of humor. Maybe he'd decided on some especially gruesome way of disposing of them, decided it would be safer to write off the fabulously profitable shipment-unlikely as it seemed. At any moment their guide could disappear around a turn, leaving them to wander in a maze of filthy underground passages among unseen terrors while Rose's whining laugh echoed from hidden speakers.
She found herself dripping inside the fancy evening dress. It had not been designed for running over slippery floors in a hunched over position.
"Too frigging humid!" she muttered.
"Nonsense!" replied the disgustingly cheery voice of the Tolian. Excepting its lack of large land masses, Repler was much like his home world. Like many races, however, the Tolians did not go in for colonization on any significant scale.
"If it bothers you, just think bow nice and dry you were a short while ago-on his Lordship's playtable."
"You're not being funny," Kitten replied, panting heavily now. No doubt the damn tunnel ran out under the ocean and they'd run like this all the way to Repler City. "How'd you like me to tie knots in your whiskers?"
"Have to catch me first." The little alien was the only one whom the low ceiling didn't inconvenience. He had plenty of room. His webbed feet made loud slapping sounds, like sponges, wherever they hit the trickle of water which flowed along the center of the floor.
"Where does this highway lead, anyway?" asked Mal. Kitten stared at him enviously. Despite his huge bulk, he didn't even appear to be breathing hard "And where does this water come from?"
The youngster's voice drifted back from close ahead. "Condensation. The tunnel-this one, anyway-is a service access to the sewage plant. Both the intake for fresh water and the outlets for treated sewage are monitored from there. Each has an electrified gate at the end which is controlled by the master island defense computer. But they can both be shut down from the plant for up to an hour. If I can cut the power to the gates from the plant console, I can probably also power down the alarms without alerting anyone. That way, if someone comes in and inspects the system after we've started out, nothing will seem amiss. Unless he thinks to check the gate power lights, in which case we'd be finished. But since the entire system is automatic, that's not likely. We shouldn't have any trouble."
"He says," added Mal sardonically. Even he was beginning to pant a little now. "Assuming all this works, how do we get from the plant to the hoveraft?"
"One outtake tunnel comes out at the mouth of the harbor inlet. The gates at the end of each are designed more to keep out undesirable marine fauna than intelligent beings. It's an efficient design but not very sophisticated. From the gate it's a chart swim to the landings. While powerful, the real island defenses are located further out. And don't worry about the water. Compared to the seas of most worlds, the salt content here is very low. Of course, the treated sewage, while thoroughly sanitized and thinned, wouldn't taste particularly good."
"Oh thanks," said Kitten drily. "I'll keep that in mind."
The tunnel made another sharp bend. Abruptly they found themselves in a small, well-lit room full of banks of automated machinery. Mal and Kitten stretched luxuriously.
Down a short, broad rampway to their right were two wide channels of water, one slightly greener than the other. Clear plastic domed above both. One end disappeared into the floor, while the other flowed off into a black hole in the stone wall. Philip noticed Mal's stare.
"The one on the left carries out the treated sewage. The other draws in seawater for purification."
"Surely the two don't open to the ocean next to each other," asked Porsupah.
"No. The intake channel leads out almost at a right angle from here. It opens on an untouched section of coast. The sewage channel exits near the inlet. The current is strongest there and aids in carrying the mixture out to sea. We'll be hugging the shore there, so the current shouldn't bother us. And swimming out with a current will help considerably. I don't know if we could make it against the intake pumps ... The roof of both tunnels is uneven, but air shouldn't be a problem."
"What do you mean, `shouldn't be'?" Kitten asked.
"Well," Philip glanced at his wrist chronometer, "it ought to be getting dark out by now. I didn't get a chance to look at any tide tables, and to ask would have been awkward, let alone suspicious. Sometimes when both moons are in the sky and Aug. is at its highest, the water level rises all the way to the roof of the channel.
"Not a drawback," said Porsupah to Kitten. "It'll do you well to hold your breath for a while."
She looked at him appraisingly. "I don't know whether to start with the whiskers on the left or the right. What do you think, Captain?"
But Mal was watching Philip. The youth had already removed the metal panel that protected one heavily intrumented locker. He'd magically produced several complex but tiny tools, including one intricate-looking screwdriver affair with a head that was geometrically insane.
Philip put the tools neatly aside, looked up. "Captain, I think you ought to station yourself by that door over there." He added apologetically, "It's the only entrance from the complex proper. Miss Kai-sung, Porsupah-al, if you could remove a section of that plastic doming large enough for us to slip through, it would save a little time. The left-hand channel-there are transparent pressure sensitive bolts on each side. It takes four, two to a side, to release one section."
Mal was sure the minutes were not being split into 60 equal parts. He found himself glancing anxiously from the access tunnel they'd used to the single doorway, then back to Porsupah and Kitten, who were working feverishly on their second bolt. Not having been removed for some time, the bolts were proving stubborn.
After a while, he found
himself watching their guide intently. The youngster was working quickly and steadily. The long fingers moved spiderlike over the web off wiring, impulsistors, solid and fluid state components.
"Think we've been missed?" he asked.
"There's no way of knowing whether anyone's been ordered to visit you after I delivered the food," said Philip without looking up from his work. "I do know that there wasn't any tridee pickup in your, suite. It doesn't make any difference now. I don't advise going back to check on it."
Mal wasn't surprised to see that the youth was sweating heavily. Whether from the concentration he was applying to his work or from nervousness, he couldn't tell.
The young engineer worked carefully now. "I just negated the alarm system. It should only take a minute now to cut power to the sewage gate-damn obsolete solid switches..."
"Isn't there an override on the computer for emergencies-like an unauthorized interruption in the power flow?" Kitten asked.
"This is where it would be managed. I'm handling that, too. It's tricky ... I'm more worried about someone coming in while we're trying to swim the gate and switching power back on. We'd still get out ... well done."
"Hey, what ... ?"
Mal didn't think, didn't look. He whirled and chopped bard, using his weight. The man never finished the sentence. Mal had become so absorbed with Philip's manipulations of computer innards he'd completely forgotten he was supposed to be watching the door. The man had entered unseen and uttered the single exclamation of surprise. Now he was lying motionless against the half open portal.
Mal carefully closed the door, repressing an almost overpowering desire to look out and see if anyone else was beyond. He turned and bent over the fallen figure in the green biotech uniform.
"I didn't mean to hit him so hard," he said quietly. "He startled me."