Dragonback 05 Dragon and Judge (32 page)

With a sigh, Alison reached out and stroked the gray-scaled neck.
For a moment Taneem seemed to resist the touch, then relaxed beneath
it. "We all get discouraged sometimes," Alison said. "It's not a crime."

Taneem flicked her tail. "Draycos doesn't get discouraged."

"I'd bet you my left arm he does," Alison countered. "The trick is
to get out of that pity pit as fast as you can."

She exhaled tiredly. "And speaking of getting out of things, we've
got no more than three days before Stronlo and his people do a
full-bore Light Brigade charge to their deaths," she said. "Let's have
a little snack, maybe get a little more sleep, and then put our heads
together and figure out how we're going to keep that from happening."

The search for the two humans lasted most of the night, with
Golvins and lights moving erratically across the canyon floor. By
morning, though, the searchers seemed to have given up and gone back to
their normal daily lives.

Which wasn't to say there was no danger. For over an hour around
sunrise that first morning Jack huddled in the back of the apartment
with Langston, hardly daring to breathe, as the Golvins with apartments
above theirs climbed down the pillar's ivy coating on their way to
their fields and other jobs.

Fortunately, Langston had lived there long enough to have left
plenty of residual scent behind. Apparently, it was enough to mask the
fresher scents of the fugitives.

Late that evening, for the same hour, Jack and Langston again had
to retreat to the rear of the apartment as the Golvins reversed
direction and headed back home.

The next three days passed slowly. Though the morning and evening
rush hours were the most dangerous, a scattering of Golvins moved up or
down at other times during the day, making casual conversation
dangerous.

Besides which, after the first day of the limited food rationing
Langston worked out, Jack's stomach was rumbling so loudly and so
constantly that it was a wonder none of the passing Golvins heard it.

But of more concern to Jack than his stomach, or even his safety,
was Draycos.

His biggest fear on that long first night was that the K'da would
be so deeply unconscious that he wouldn't be able to return to Jack's
skin when it became necessary. Jack and Langston had solved that
problem by having Jack strip off his clothing and stretch out on the
cold stone floor with Draycos lying full length on top of him. As the
time limit approached, the K'da simply melted back onto Jack's skin.

But as Langston had predicted, the bandage came off when Draycos
went two-dimensional. Every time after that, whenever he came back off
Jack's skin, they found that a little more fresh blood had oozed from
the wound.

And while the K'da soon came back to a sort of dreamy
consciousness, he remained weak and unable to do much except eat and
sleep.

"I just hope he didn't take any damage he can't heal by himself,"
Langston commented midmorning on the third day as he carefully wiped
off the latest bit of blood. "If your numbers are
right,
the rest of his people are still over a month away."

"He's going to get well," Jack growled. "He
is
."

"I know, I know," Langston said quickly. "I'm just saying, that's
all."

But he was right, Jack knew as he gazed down at his sleeping
friend. Draycos was recovering, but slowly. Much more slowly than he'd
bounced back from other injuries. He needed medical attention, and
medical treatment.

And he wasn't going to get either trapped in the Golvin canyon.
"You're right," Jack said with a sigh. "We need to get him out of
here." He looked up at Langston. "Tonight."

"Let's not go off half-charged," Langston warned. "If he's got
internal injuries or bleeding it might actually be more dangerous to
move him than to let him just lie here quietly and heal."

"And starve to death?" Jack countered.

Langston grimaced. "Point," he conceded. "Okay: compromise. At
current rations, we've got about three days left. Let's give him one
more day to rest and heal. Tomorrow night, win, lose, or draw, you and
I will sneak down the rabbit hole and see about grabbing that aircar."

"Deal," Jack said with a twinge of dread. If they moved Draycos
too soon—or moved him too late—they could end up killing him.

He was just wondering if he should suggest they wait two days
instead of one when he heard the sound of a distant explosion.

Draycos's eyes came halfway open. "Jack?" he murmured.

"I know," Jack said, getting to his feet and heading to the door.

One look at the rising pillar of smoke and sand above the eastern
canyon rim was all he needed. "I don't believe it," he said. "They blew
up the mine."

"
Someone
did," Langston said grimly from beside him. "But
it wasn't the Golvins. You hear that?"

Jack strained his ears. "No."

"I do," Langston said. "It's the lifter subthrob from a Djinn-90
pursuit fighter."

Jack felt his heart seize up. "Oh, no," he breathed.

"Yeah," Langston said. "Offhand, I'm guessing your Malison Ring
buddies have tracked you down."

And right on cue, three large starfighters shot into view over the
canyon rim.

"That tears it," Langston bit out, stepping back from the door.
"Come on."

"Where are we going?" Jack asked, following him to where Draycos
lay.

"Into the rabbit hole," Langston said, scooping the rest of their
food back together into Jack's Judge-Paladin hat. "They'll be firing up
their sensors any minute now, looking for human heat signatures. Inside
a pile of stone is our best bet."

"We're already
in
one," Jack objected. His muscles still
ached from his earlier climb up the light shaft, and he wasn't at all
sure he could handle a repeat performance. "Besides, those Djinn-90s
are way too big to get down here."

His last word was punctuated by the rippling crack of laser fire.
There was a second salvo, and the air was suddenly shattered by the
sound of crumbling stone. "Not for long," Langston said grimly,
stuffing the hat into his jumpsuit. "That was one of the stabilizing
arches getting blown to gravel. A couple more of those, plus a few guy
wires, and they'll be able to bring in any floosing ship they want."

Jack swallowed hard. And when that happened, he and Draycos would
be caught like trapped mice. "You've sold me," he said, getting a grip
on Draycos's paw. "Let's get that aircar and get out of here."

"No," Draycos said.

"It's the only way," Jack told him. "Come on, get aboard."

"We don't go down," Draycos insisted, his voice strained. "We go
up
"

Jack looked at Langston, saw his same puzzlement mirrored there.
"Draycos, Frost and his men are up there," he explained, searching
Draycos's face for signs of fever or delirium. If the K'da was starting
to drift off on them . . .

"But soon they will be down here," Draycos said. "Wing Sergeant
Langston is correct. Once they have a path through the obstructions,
all their ships will come down to join in the search. We can then cross
the guy wires and arches to the edge of the canyon."

"Great, except that it's all desert out there," Langston said in a
tone of strained patience. "There's nowhere to hide."

"Not even in the mine," Jack added. "They blew up the entrance."

"I know," Draycos said. "But we can hide in the sergeant's wrecked
starfighter."

Jack opened his mouth. Closed it again. "Can we?" he asked,
looking at Langston.

"I think maybe we can," Langston said, his forehead wrinkled in
thought, a cautious excitement starting to creep into his voice. "I'll
be floosed. The hatch should be—yes. A little digging and we can—and
the whole thing's pretty well sensor-shielded. They'd have to
specifically target it to pick us up."

"Assuming we can get to it," Jack warned. "But at least we've got
a plan. Come on, Draycos."

This time the K'da obeyed. A minute later, Jack and Langston were
once again in the light shaft, and once again starting to climb.

As all around them came the echoing sounds of destruction.

The sky had begun to go dark, and Alison was settling in for her
fourth night in the isolation hut, when she heard the sounds of distant
gunfire.

"What's that?" Taneem asked, her ears stiffening.

"Sounds like Stronlo and his friends got tired of waiting," Alison
said grimly as she pulled on her shoes. "Great."

"What are we going to do?" Taneem asked anxiously.

"Try first to figure out what's happening," Alison said,
cautiously pushing open the door. No one was visible among the
deepening shadows. "After that, I don't have a clue." She held out her
hand. "Come on."

She'd made it no more than fifty yards when Taneem whispered a
warning in her ear. Alison dodged sideways behind a tree, and was
pressed against it when a female Parprin shot past, heading for the
hut. "Looking for me?" Alison called softly.

The Parprin jerked to a halt. "They have come," she gasped,
hurrying back to Alison. "The Brummgas have entered the compound with
weapons and restraints."

Another burst of gunfire echoed in the distance, and Alison winced
in sympathetic pain. "So the spies figured it out."

"The Penitent has had no choice but to lead us to the attack," the
Parprin said. "He asks for your aid."

And Taneem, Alison suspected, was more than ready to render that
aid. And possibly get herself killed in the process.

The question was how much Alison herself was willing to do for
this lost cause.

"Alison Kayna?" the Parprin prompted as she hesitated.

Alison came to a decision. "Go back to the Penitent," she ordered
the Parprin. "Tell him we'll do what we can."

For a moment the alien searched Alison's face, as if not sure
whether to believe her. Then, with a curt nod, she took off again
through the forest.

"We are going to fight?" Taneem asked, her voice wary.

"Do you want to?" Alison countered. "We don't have to, you know.
This isn't our war."

"It was our arrival that created this danger," Taneem said. "We
can't simply turn our backs on them."

"Even if it means Draycos's people—
your
people—will die?"

Taneem seemed to brace herself. "The K'da warrior ethic requires
that we do what is right," she said quietly, the words almost swallowed
up by another burst of distant gunfire. "No matter what the advantage
or cost to ourselves."

Alison grimaced. She'd called it, all right. Death and glory, and
honor and pride. Draycos had indoctrinated the young K'da, but good.
"Lucky for us, we're not K'da warriors," she reminded Taneem. Putting
the sound of gunfire to her left, she headed off southward through the
forest.

Taneem's head rose from her shoulder. "Then we are going to
abandon them?"

"Well, we're certainly not going to charge straight into the
Brummgas' guns," Alison said. "If we're going to do anything, we're
going to try to be clever about it."

"Then you
do
have a plan."

"I said
if
we do anything," Alison cautioned. "Let's first
figure out the lay of the land."

"But the fire is coming from the slave compound," Taneem said,
flicking her tongue past Alison's chin toward her left.

"One more good reason not to go there," Alison said.

"But—"

"But mostly we're not going there because that's not where the
Brummgas have their main attack line," Alison interrupted her. "The
ones making all the noise in the compound are just there for show.
Their job is to drive any potential rebels or escapees through gaps in
the hedge into the
real
trap."

"Which is where we are going?"

"Which is what we're going to take a look at, anyway," Alison
said. "Here we are. Everybody off."

Ahead, the hedge loomed over them, ten feet of densely tangled
branches and long thorns. "You wish to go over it?" Taneem asked
doubtfully as she leaped off Alison's skin.

"Not
over
," Alison corrected her. "
Through
. Get
those K'da claws working."

Taneem gave a little hiss of malicious satisfaction. Lifting her
forepaws and extending her claws, she set to work.

Two minutes later, she had carved out a hole big enough to sidle
through. "Great," Alison said. "Now, we're going to head southeast—
quietly
—toward
where the Brummgas should have set up their lines."

Taneem nodded and headed off at a brisk trot, her ears cocked, her
tongue flicking out with every other step. Trying to suppress her own
misgivings, Alison followed.

They didn't have far to go. Flickers of laser fire were coming
from a line of bushes and small fountains scattered around the north
end of the slaveowners' section of the grounds. The nearest firing
position was no more than thirty yards away, with the entire combat
line stretched across nearly four hundred yards. In the dim light,
Alison could make out the hulking forms of some of the nearer Brummgas
hunched over their weapons.

They weren't firing at random, either. To the north, at the base
of the hedge, Alison could see the shadowy figures of Stronlo's
would-be escapees. Some were still coming, zigzagging in an effort not
to be shot. But most were flat on their faces, pressed helplessly
against the grass. From the slave compound behind them, in mocking
counterpoint to the silent lasers, came more loud volleys of gunfire.

Alison felt her throat tighten, a sinking feeling in the pit of
her stomach. So the trick had worked. The roving Brummgas in the
compound had forced Stronlo's slaves to make their move, and now they
were trapped.

With a sigh, she trotted to a halt. "So that's it," she murmured.
"I'm sorry, Taneem—"

But Taneem hadn't stopped. In fact, she had picked up speed.
"Taneem!" Alison snapped. "Come back!"