Dragonback 06 Dragon and Liberator (10 page)

"Sounds like some serious firepower," Jack said.

Harper shrugged. "Serious enough," he said. "Just how well armed
is this fleet of yours, Draycos?"

"Extremely well," Draycos said grimly. "But if the Valahgua are
able to get close enough to use the Death, all their weaponry will be
useless."

"I still don't get this Death thing," Harper said. "How can this
beam thing go straight through armor plating like it's not there?
Wouldn't something that penetrates hull metal more easily than even
gamma rays also tend to go straight through the crewers without causing
much damage?"

"The Death is not a form of radiation," Draycos said. "It's
possibly a vibration of space itself, which seeks out the core of a
living being and destroys that core and its connection to the rest of
the universe."

Harper snorted. "Can we steer clear of the philosophy aspects?" he
asked. "I'm looking for the physics of the thing."

"I don't know the physics." Draycos paused, his tail arched in
thought. "Perhaps an analogy would help. Suppose you wished to destroy
the center of a planet. A normal weapon would first have to blast away
layer after layer of crust and mantle until the core was exposed.
Agreed?"

"Agreed," Harper said. "So?"

"The Death does things differently," Draycos said. "In this
analogy, it would be like a weapon that could ignore the outer
planetary layers and seek out and destroy the core directly."

"That would be some weapon," Harper acknowledged. "But living
beings aren't planets."

"No, but we all have a core of life within us," Draycos said.
"Somehow, the Death is able to focus on that core."

"Still sounds like magic," Harper declared. "But never mind that.
If you're right about its range being only a couple of hundred miles,
the K'da and Shontine ought to be able to take out Neverlin's force
long before they can get close enough to use it."

"Especially if we can get to Bentre and eliminate the ships he's
planning to pick up there," Uncle Virge added.

Jack scratched his cheek. A rather outrageous plan was starting to
form in the back of his mind. "Who, said anything about taking them
out?" he asked.

Draycos and Harper both looked sharply at him. "Alison did," Uncle
Virge said, his voice as wary as Draycos's expression. "She was
very
specific."

"I'm sure she was," Jack said. "But why destroy them when they can
be more useful in one piece?"

"If you're thinking you can get the refugee rendezvous from their
course settings, forget it," Harper warned. "Neverlin's bound to have
at least two midway points along the way."

"I know," Jack said. "That just means we'll have to hitch a ride."

"Hitch a
ride
?" Uncle Virge all but gasped. "Jack lad,
there's nowhere in one of those things where you can possibly hide."

"And even if you could find a spot, what then?" Harper added.
"It's going to take days to reach wherever they're going. You going to
sit there quietly that whole time?"

"Something like that," Jack said. "Draycos? You game?"

"I don't know what exactly you have in mind," Draycos said. "But I
have no better suggestions to make. At any rate, we have three and a
half days to work out a proper plan."

"Make it four," Jack said. "We'll want to skulk around a bit first
and check out the area."

"Four days, then," Draycos said. "Regardless, I'm with you."

Uncle Virge gave a snort. "And these were the two," he muttered,
"who were so keen on not taking chances."

Bentre was exactly the way Jack had expected: quiet and sparsely
settled. Best of all, it was inhabited by the mostly easygoing
Compfrins, who usually didn't ask awkward questions.

It was the perfect place, in other words, for someone planning
genocide to pick up a few attack ships.

"Ah, yes—the spacecraft for
Sidj
Kimtra Varn," the manager
of the Progline Skyport said, peering at his computer display. "Twelve
KK-29s, surplused from the Grimnau Customs Office." He peered intently
at Jack's face. "You are not
Sidj Warn
, are you?"

"No, I just work for him," Jack said. Human faces were hard for
Compfrins to distinguish between, but he wasn't quite ready to try to
pass himself off as either Neverlin or Frost.

"Allow me then to greet you and welcome you to Bentre," the
manager said. He pulled out a handful of papers and a stylus and pushed
them across his counter toward Jack. "Here are the
release-and-possession forms that must be completed. I trust you
brought a pilot for each vessel? These craft cannot be slaved together
as some ships can."

"Yes, I know," Jack said, gently pushing the papers back toward
him. "Actually,
Sidj
Varn just asked me to stop by and make
sure the ships were here and ready to go. Another group will be coming
by later to actually take possession."

"You will save them valuable time if you complete the forms now,"
the Compfrin suggested, pushing the forms back again.

Compfrins weren't nosy, Jack reflected, but they could definitely
be pushy. "The other group will do that," Jack said firmly, trying to
imagine Neverlin's reaction to the news that someone had stopped by his
secret-weapons stash and done his paperwork for him. "And I really must
go."

He left the office before the manager could protest further.
So
we know now that Frost's men haven't already retrieved them
,
Draycos's thought whispered into Jack's mind.

Getting in ahead of the opposition is always a good start
,
Jack agreed, looking around. The spaceport had a dozen somewhat
dilapidated hangars of various sizes scattered across the grounds,
including the one where he'd parked the
Essenay
. Filling the
space between the hangars were a variety of other vehicles. Most of
them were light personal aircraft, anchored to the ground by thin wires
to protect them against gusts of wind.

Should be that one over there
, Jack said, nodding toward
the westernmost of the hangars as he got into one of the rental carts
lined up outside the office. He dropped some coins into the slot and
got a grip on the steering lever.
Let's go see what kind of bargain
Neverlin got
.

They had passed the last line of tethered aircraft between them
and the hangar when the comm clip on Jack's collar suddenly came to
life. "Jack lad, I'm picking up a shuttle with Brummgan markings,
coming in from the west," Uncle Virge said tightly. "Could be Frost's
pilots."

Jack shot a look over his shoulder at the sky. "How close?"

"Close enough," Uncle Virge said grimly. "You need to get under
cover, right now."

Jack looked around. Problem was, there
was
no cover, at
least nothing he could get to quickly.

But there
was
something he could use as camouflage.
"Right," he said, shifting direction toward a group of airplanes about
fifty yards from the east side of Neverlin's hangar. "Any idea how many
Brummgas are aboard the shuttle?"

"My infrareds can't pick out individual bodies through that kind
of hull," Uncle Virge said. "But if we assume twelve pilots plus the
shuttle's own crew, the overall IR sum would say they're all human, not
Brummgan."

Jack felt his throat tighten. He'd assumed Frost's buddies would
be busy stealing Malison Ring ships, and that Neverlin would assign
this particular duty to his tame Brummgas. None of that bunch was
particularly clever, and most of them had probably never actually seen
Jack.

But many of Frost's mercenaries had. Way too many of them.

So much for his chances of running some sort of scam on them.

What's our plan
? Draycos asked.

Jack looked over his shoulder again. The fiery glow of the
incoming shuttle's drive could now be seen against the cloud-speckled
blue of the sky.
There's no time to get to real cover
, he told
the K'da.
So we're going to go with the classic technique of hiding
in plain sight
.

The shuttle was on its final approach as Jack pulled up to the
group of aircraft and stopped. "Uncle Virge, I've got a Lightsparrow-66
here," he said, glancing at the nearest airplane's markings as he got
out. "I need the location of any outside equipment bays."

"Right. Give me a minute."

Making sure to keep his face away from the incoming shuttle, Jack
stepped around to the back of his cart and opened the storage
compartment. It was mostly empty, but in one corner he spotted a
forgotten screwdriver and a socket wrench. "Uncle Virge?" he prompted,
scooping them up.

"Both wing engine pods have access ports on their inboard sides,"
Uncle Virge reported. "Three bolts along the top, then swing down the
panel."

Jack looked at the nearest engine pod, spotted the three bolts.
"Got it," he said, turning to it and setting to work with his borrowed
screwdriver. He was facing the hangar now, which would be a little
risky when Frost's men started piling out. On the other hand, once Jack
got the panel open, it should block his face from anyone who looked in
this direction.

Sure enough, as the last bolt came loose the panel swung down just
low enough to hide everything above his chin.
Draycos
? he
called silently.
Can you see anything
?

The K'da moved across his skin, sliding down to where he could
look through the neck of Jack's shirt.
They're landing near the
hangar
, he reported.
The shuttle's stern is turned toward the
door
.

With its weapons turned outward, ready to shoot at possible
trouble. Frost's men weren't taking any chances.
Are they all
staying at that end of the building
?

No—two of them are heading this way
.

Jack winced, moving his elbows briskly and visibly as he pretended
to work on the plane's engine. If the mercenaries were suspicious
enough to come over here and check him out . . .

Wait
, Draycos said, and Jack could sense the relief in his
voice.
They're turning to go around the side of the building.
They're just checking the hangar's exterior
.

Jack breathed a quiet sigh of relief. At least he and Draycos
weren't going to have to fight.

But that brought up a whole different problem. If the mercenaries
were suspicious enough to check out even the solid parts of the
hangar's exterior, they weren't likely to leave either of the two doors
unguarded.
Have they finished their sweep yet
?

Almost
, Draycos answered.
They're moving around the
corner—one last look on this side . . . there. They're gone
.

Did they seem interested in me
?

One of them looked in this direction, but there was no
indication he was suspicious
, Draycos answered.
All is clear.
We can get moving
.

Moving to where
? Jack countered.
They're bound to be
watching the doors at both ends
.

Across the distance came a soft, low rumble. "Uncle Virge?" Jack
asked. "Is that what I think it is?"

"It's multiple engine prep," Uncle Virge confirmed. "Looks like
they're in something of a hurry."

"The manager's going to be furious if they don't fill out his
paperwork," Jack said, trying hard to come up with something. So much
for his original idea of hitching a ride. That left only Alison's plan
of wrecking the ships and keeping Neverlin from getting them. If Jack
got the
Essenay
moving right away—and if they were
extraordinarily lucky—they might be able to take out all twelve ships
before the mercenaries got their own weapons on line.

At which point, there would be only one other chance for him and
Draycos to find Neverlin's attack force. They would have to get to
Driftline before Frost finished stealing those Malison Ring ships, and
figure out how to hitch a ride from there.

And if they failed there as well, Alison and Taneem would be on
their own. Completely and utterly on their own.

Go to the side wall directly across from us
, Draycos
instructed, an edge of determination in his tone. Perhaps he was
thinking about Alison and Taneem, too.
They won't be watching for
an intrusion there
.

Of course they won't
, Jack said, suddenly understanding
what Draycos had in mind. Ducking under the engine pod panel,
confirming for himself that the mercenaries were out of sight, he
headed toward the hangar at a brisk jog.

He reached the wall and pressed his back against it.
How's it
look
? he asked.

Very possible
, Draycos said.
Move to your left about
ten feet. There's a wide tool cabinet near the wall which I can enter
behind
.

I hope you're keeping the odds in mind
, Jack warned as he
moved along the wall and settled into his new position.
There are
at least fourteen of them, and only one of you
.

Don't worry
, Draycos assured him.
I'm not planning to
fight even one of them, let alone all fourteen
.

Jack frowned.
Then what's the plan
?

To arrange transport, of course
, Draycos said.
Return
to the airplane you were pretending to fix, and have Uncle Virge locate
and monitor their transmission frequencies. I'll join you soon
.

Jack felt a surge, and Draycos was gone.

Draycos pushed against Jack's skin with his rear paws, and with a
slightly dizzying rush he fell over the wall into the hangar.

He dropped into a low crouch behind the tool cabinet, flicking his
tongue a few times to taste the air. There were indeed only humans in
this group, he concluded. Twelve of them, he estimated, which implied
the entire transport crew was still in their shuttle. Easing to the
edge of the cabinet, he cautiously looked around it.