Cobra Slave

  Lorne scowled. Now that she mentioned it, the grav lifts did sound like the ones on the aircar Khahar and Chimm had swooped in on yesterday morning. “Could be,” Lorne told her, heading for the door. “Better stay inside. I’ll go see what they want.”

  It was indeed a Dominion aircar that settled to the ground outside the store a minute later. The two men who got out were equally familiar. “Good morning, Sergeant,” Lorne said as politely as he could as Khahar and Chimm strode toward him. “Bored with life in Archway already?”

  “That’s funny,” Khahar said with a grunt as he stopped a couple of meters away. “Get in the car.”

  Lorne frowned. They walked all they way over here from the car just to tell him they were all getting right back in and leaving? “Why?” he asked.

  “Because there’s trouble, and we need you back there,” Khahar said. “We’ll explain on the way.” He stepped forward and to his left, clearly heading to get behind Lorne.

  “Whoa,” Lorne protested, taking a quick step to his own left to keep both Marines in sight. “I can’t just run off, not even to Archway. I’ve been assigned here, and I’m on duty.”

  “And Colonel Reivaro is reassigning you,” Chimm said.

  “Reivaro’s not in my chain of command,” Lorne countered. “I can’t leave without a good reason.”

  “How about a general riot?” Khahar growled. “That a good enough reason?”

  Lorne felt his eyes widen. “A riot? What the hell have you been doing down there?”

  “Hey, it’s your people who’ve gone off the deep end, not ours,” Chimm shot back.

  “Like I said, we’ll explain on the way,” Khahar said, taking another step forward. “Come on, come on—the colonel needs every man he can get, and that includes you Cobras.”

  Another quiet alarm went off in the back of Lorne’s mind. Reivaro was still in Archway? That didn’t make any sense at all.

  Unless, of course, this whole alleged riot was nothing more than Reivaro taking another run at getting Lorne into a dark room and trying to squeeze Qasama’s location out of him. “I understand,” he said, taking another step back and pulling out his comm. “But like I said, I’m on duty. Any changes have to be cleared with the commandant first.”

  “Are you tired, Broom, or just naturally stupid?” Khahar demanded impatiently. “Commandant Ishikuma has been relieved. You know that. Colonel Reivaro’s in command now.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Commandant Ishikuma,” Lorne said, punching in a number. “I was talking about Commandant Dreysler, supreme Cobra commander on Aventine. He has final say on everything we do.”

  Khahar and Chimm looked at each other. “Fine,” Khahar growled. “Make it fast.”

  The comm clicked and a woman answered. “This is Cobra Lorne Broom,” Lorne identified himself. “It’s urgent that I speak with Commandant Dreysler right away.”

  #

  The night’s drive had been long and tedious, the monotony punctuated mainly by soreness in Jin’s hips, soreness in her lower back, and an occasional fatigue cramp in one of her legs. There had been several times through the long hours when she’d nearly given up and asked Paul to stop at a motel where they could get a few hours of real sleep.

  But most of those times had been when Paul was driving, and Jin had usually been drifting off to sleep anyway, and on further consideration it had seemed like too much trouble to get out of the car, even if there was a real horizontal bed at the other end of the walk.

  Now, with the sun rising in the east and Archway only a few kilometers ahead she was glad she’d kept her silence. A few more minutes, and she and Paul would be reunited with Lorne, and they could start figuring out a strategy for dealing with the Dominion and their obsession with Qasama.

  From her pocket came the muted signal from her comm. She glanced at Paul, dozing in the passenger seat, and glanced at the comm’s display.

  And felt her lips curve into a relieved smile. The caller was none other than Lorne himself. What an unexpectedly pleasant way for her and Paul to end their long, wearying trip. Tapping it on, she held it to her ear. “Good morning, Lo—”

  “This is Cobra Lorne Broom,” Lorne said, his voice stiff with proper protocol and tension. “It’s urgent that I speak with Commandant Dreysler right away.”

  Jin’s muscles went rigid, her smile vanishing, her sleep-starved brain scrabbling frantically for an innocuous explanation for such a bizarre beginning to this conversation.

  But there wasn’t one. Lorne knew her number, and he knew her voice, and Dreysler’s office answered with a much more formal identification. There was no way any of this could be a simple mistake on her son’s part.

  Which meant it was deliberate.

  Which meant he was in trouble.

  “One moment,” she said, dropping her voice into the same official cadence. Keying the comm to mute, she let go of the wheel with her other hand long enough to give Paul a quick slap on the shoulder.

  He came awake in an instant. “We there?” he asked, blinking against the sunlight.

  “It’s Lorne,” Jin told him, holding up the comm. “Only he’s pretending he’s calling Commandant Dreysler.”

  Paul sat up straighter, his slightly befogged manner gone. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know,” Jin said. “He just said it was urgent that he talk to Dreysler.”

  “Some kind of trouble, then.” Paul gestured to the comm. “Put it on speaker.”

  Jin nodded and switched the comm to her other hand, holding it between them, and keyed on the speaker. “This is Dreysler,” Paul said in a surprisingly good imitation of the commandant’s voice. “This better be good, Broom.”

  “Yes, sir, and I’m sorry about the hour,” Lorne said. “I have two Dominion Marines with me here in Bitter Creek. They’re telling me I need to abandon my assigned post and accompany them immediately back to Archway.”

  Jin flashed a startled look at Paul. Bitter Creek? she mouthed.

  He gave a small shrug in return. “Is there some trouble in Archway?” he asked.

  “They said there was trouble simmering,” Lorne said, “but they haven’t given me any details. I was hoping you could clarify the chain of command for me, or maybe contact Governor-General Chintawa and see if there’s been some arrangement in place that I’m not yet familiar with.”

  Jin felt her stomach tighten. So that was why Lorne had called them. He’d naturally assumed they were still in Capitalia, within easy contact of the Dome, and was hoping they could get Chintawa to intervene in whatever was going on in DeVegas province.

  Only she and Paul were a long way from any official contact, even if there’d been anyone in Chintawa’s office who would actually listen to them anymore. If that was indeed Lorne’s plan, then they needed to clue him in right away that it wasn’t going to work, and then try to figure out a new strategy.

  Unfortunately, there was no way to give Lorne the situation without coming right out and saying it. If the Marines were listening in, the whole thing was about to come crashing down on them.

  But it was a risk they had to take. “Can the Marines hear our side of the conversation?” she asked quietly.

  “I don’t think so,” Lorne said, his voice subtly changing pitch as he moved the comm a few centimeters away from his mouth. “You two have any papers or documentation on this supposed change in my orders?”

  There was a muffled and indistinct voice. “No, they’ve got nothing like that,” Lorne said, speaking directly into the comm again. “They claim the new order’s coming from Colonel Reivaro, if that means anything.”

  “Okay, here’s the situation,” Paul said softly. “We’re actually on our way to Archway now—don’t ask, it’s a long story. We’ll try to find out what’s going on and get back to you.”

  “Do you think you can stall them long enough for us to do that?” Jin added.

  There was an odd sort of snort from the comm. “Yes, I think I can do that,” Lorne s
aid, a hint of grim amusement in his voice. “Let me know what you find out.”

  He keyed off. “This is not good,” Jin said tightly, keying off from her end. “You think we should call Commandant Ishikuma and see if he can tell us what’s going on?”

  “If the Dominion has any sense, they’ve got Ishikuma’s comm flagged,” Paul said, taking the comm from her and punching in a number. “Let’s try a little lower on the chain of command. We’ll start with Badger Werle, and if he’s not answering we’ll try Dillon de Portola.”

  “Their comms may be flagged, too,” Jin warned.

  “So could the whole comm system,” he countered. “In which case, any subterfuge is so much wasted effort anyway.”

  “You’re right,” Jin said, grimacing. “Sorry. You going with the dumb approach?”

  “I think that’s our best bet,” he said. “A couple of clueless parents here to visit their son.”

  And if the Dominion was flagging all calls, she and Paul would probably be picked up before they even reached Archway.

  On the other hand, if the Dominion had taken over the whole system they probably already knew that Lorne had called his mother and not Commandant Dreysler.

  “Cobra Werle?” Paul said into his comm. “This is Paul Broom. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

  Ahead, a sign marked the spur into Archway. Giving the area a quick visual sweep, Jin settled into the final leg of the drive.

  And wondered what the hell was happening to her world.

  #

  It started with a low rumble of a badly-tuned grav-lift cycle, humming distractingly in Lorne’s other ear as he tried to carry out his charade conversation with his parents. Slowly but steadily the rumble grew louder, and as it did it was joined by a second hum, and then a third, and then by the deeper rumble of an unmuffled car engine or two or three.

  By the time his father began describing their proximity to Archway, the first of the grav-lift cycles appeared, a burly man in a heavy jacket with a rifle slung over his shoulder astride the saddle. By the time his mother asked about stalling the Marines, the second, third, and fourth vehicles had coasted to a halt a dozen meters from the three men standing their face-off.

  By the time he keyed off the comm and put it away, over a dozen of Bitter Creek’s citizens had taken up positions in a rough semicircle around the front McDougal’s store. All of them looking wary, angry, or determined.

  All of them armed.

  If the Marines were worried about the sudden influx of weapons, it didn’t show in their faces. “I see we rate the A-Squad welcoming committee,” Khahar said calmly. “This your doing, shopkeeper?”

  “It is,” McDougal said from where she now stood, just outside her store, with a shotgun gripped in her hands. “And for the record, you can address me as Mayor McDougal.”

  Chimm turned to frown at her. “You’re the mayor?”

  “We’re more egalitarian here than you are back in the Dominion,” Lorne told him. “On the Cobra Worlds, our leaders are the ones who have the talent for actual leadership.”

  “Or we go with whoever’s willing to take the damn job,” McDougal said. “Either way, I trust we’ve made our point?”

  “What point is that?” Khahar asked. “That even a woman can command a military unit if the unit’s standards are low enough?”

  “That you don’t just stroll into our town and snatch away our people,” McDougal said, ignoring the taunt. “Now get back in your aircar and let’s see you make some dust.”

  Khahar shook his head, mock-sadly. “They’re so earnestly pathetic, aren’t they, Chimm?”

  “Yes, sir, they are,” Chimm said. “Almost a shame, isn’t it?”

  “Almost,” Khahar agreed.

  And without a single hint of warning the entire area exploded into an eye-searing firestorm of blue laser fire.

  Reflexively, Lorne slammed his eyes shut as his nanocomputer took over his servo network and threw him in a low dive to the side. He hit the ground and rolled back to his feet, his hands snapped up in front of him as he flicked target-locks onto the two Marines.

  But it was already over. The men in the cordon circle were staggering back in shock, dismay, and pain, their half-melted guns smoldering on the grass in front of them.

  “I trust we’ve made our point,” Khahar said, raising his voice. “It could just as easily be your bodies lying smoking on the ground as your weapons. Consider it your one and only warning.”

  Lorne took a deep breath, fighting hard against the almost overwhelming urge to drop both Marines where they stood. Out here, in spine leopard territory, a working firearm could mean the difference between life and death. “What the hell was that?” he demanded in a low voice.

  “As I said: a warning,” Khahar said coolly. “Certainly more warning than an actual enemy would have received.”

  “You fired on your own people.”

  “Who had drawn weapons on uniformed enforcement personnel,” Khahar snapped. “For a world that professes to be a loyal and upstanding member of the Dominion of Man, Cobra Broom, your citizens are remarkably hostile. Not to mention slow to learn.” He gestured impatiently. “Enough of this. For the last time, get in the vehicle.”

  Lorne looked around. A grim and watchful silence filled their little circle of drama, the newly disarmed men watching him closely.

  Waiting to see what their new Cobra would do.

  Once again, Lorne longed to drop the Marines. Even a non-lethal sonic burst would give at least some momentary satisfaction to the insult and injury that had been arrogantly handed out.

  Once again, he forced back the temptation. The last thing any of them wanted was for this whole incident to escalate further.

  Or was it?

  Lorne focused on Khahar again, this time keying his infrareds. The sergeant’s face was brimming with anticipation, as if he was actually hoping Lorne would make some move against them.

  Which he was, of course, Lorne realized. Both Marines were hoping that. After all, their mission was to get Lorne back to Capitalia and the main Dominion force. What better way to accomplish that than to goad him into attacking them?

  Of course, it would be a pretty hollow victory for Khahar and Chimm personally if they both died in the process.

  Earlier, Lorne and de Portola had speculated that the Marines’ combat garb had some kind of defenses built into them. The fact that Lorne could see no fear in either man’s face implied they had a lot of confidence in those defenses. Still, could any outfit really be strong enough to block a full Cobra attack?

  There was one way to find out. But not here. Not now. Their mission might be to bring Lorne in; Lorne’s was to stall them off long enough for his parents to find out what the hell was happening in Archway.

  Fortunately, he had an idea how to do that.

  “In a minute,” he said, glancing around. Six meters behind him was an arrowcrest, tall and serene, with the spindly yet strong branches jutting out from the trunk that made it a favorite climbing tree for the province’s children. “See that tree?” he asked Khahar, pointing as he walked toward it. “Let me show you something.”

  “Broom—”

  “It’ll only take a second,” Lorne promised. “It’s something you may not know about us.”

  He walked to the base of the tree, his shoulders tensed the whole way with the foreboding sense that he was about to catch a laser blast in the back. But the attack didn’t come. Either Khahar was intrigued enough to hold his fire, or else he figured that he could handle whatever Lorne had up his sleeve.

  “This is called an arrowcrest,” Lorne identified it, stopping and turning back to face them. The townspeople, he noted, seemed as baffled by his gambit as the Marines were. “You want to know its biggest claim to fame?” he asked, glancing up at a clump of branches eight meters above his head.

  “Wood?” Khahar suggested sarcastically.

  Lorne shook his head. “This,” he said, crouching down and pointing
to the base of the tree as if indicating the roots.

  And with a surge of servo-enhanced strength he leaped straight up.

  The move caught the Marines completely off-guard. Before they could even goggle, let alone fire, Lorne was balanced astride two of the branches, his hand on the trunk behind him for stability. “It’s one of the best climbing trees on the planet,” he called down.

  “How wonderful for it,” Khahar growled. “What the hell was that supposed to accomplish? You don’t think we can fire above our heads?”

  “No, I’m sure you can,” Lorne said. “I’m also sure you won’t. Because I’m pretty sure Commodore Santores’s orders were for you to bring me back alive.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Khahar said scornfully. “I’ve seen the vids. You can jump up and down like that all day without hurting yourself.”

  “Jump, yes,” Lorne agreed. “Fall, no.” He tapped the side of his head. “Just because my brain is encased in ceramic doesn’t mean it won’t slosh around badly if I hit the ground from this height.”

  Keying in his telescopics, he focused on Khahar’s face and took his hand away from the tree trunk behind him. “But if you want to experiment, I’m game to give it a try.” Deliberately, he let his body wobble a little, as if he was losing his balance.

  Just as he’d expected, Khahar’s lips gave an involuntary twitch. Whatever his orders were, they didn’t include Lorne plummeting to his death. “You’re bluffing,” he bit out.

  “I’m not planning suicide, if that’s what you mean,” Lorne agreed. “But it hardly qualifies as suicide if a couple of gung-blaze Dominion Marines shoot me down, does it?”

  Khahar looked sideways at Chimm. “You’ve got chutz, Broom—I’ll give you that. But you can’t stay up there forever.”

  “I wasn’t planning to,” Lorne said. “I just want to wait until I get some word about what’s going on in Archway.”

  “We already told you,” Chimm said. “The people are planning a riot.”

  “Then you’d better get back in case you’re needed, hadn’t you?” Lorne suggested.