Judgment at Proteus (49 page)

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Authors: Timothy Zahn

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BOOK: Judgment at Proteus
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In fact, if the volume was high enough, there was a good chance that whatever unpleasantness the Shonkla-raa were about to unleash would also go unheard. “You realize we
were
expecting something like this, don’t you?” I said, turning my attention back to the Shonkla-raa.

“For whatever good that preparation has done you,” the Shonkla-raa said, looking around the empty car. “Amazing, isn’t it, how easily manipulated the peoples of the galaxy are?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “I see two who managed to resist your bribe attempt.”

The Filly snorted. “Not because of any integrity on their part, I assure you. I have no doubt we would be completely alone right now had they been physically able to hear our offer.”

“Maybe,” I said, stopping a couple of long strides short of their little group. “Though considering your preferred method of attack
physically able to hear
is an interesting turn of phrase. Might turn out to be a significant metaphor, too.”

“You may cling to such hopes if it pleases you,” the Shonkla-raa said, his eyes flicking to the sleeping man. “But rest assured that if that Human was a Modhran Eye, all the music in the galaxy would not protect him from our call. He, too, would be standing here with us right now.” He gestured toward Morse. “As is your former ally.”

I grimaced as I studied Morse’s face. So much for the hopeful theory that Human walkers might require a different command frequency. He was clearly locked up, tight as a drum and ready to dance to the Shonkla-raa’s tune. “That’s one for your side, I suppose,” I conceded. “By the way, where’s
Osantra
Riijkhan? He always struck me as the sort who’d never miss an opportunity to gloat.”

“Unfortunately, our guess was slightly incorrect as to where these supposed new allies of yours were located,” the Shonkla-raa said. “
Osantra
Riijkhan was caught out of position and unable to join us in time. The honor of your final defeat has thus come to me.”

“Well, don’t go counting your chickens, because I’m not yet ready to hand over my sword,” I warned. “Regardless, it’s considered a basic courtesy for the challenger to offer the challenged his name.”

The color of the Filly’s blaze was fluttering a little, probably from all the Human cultural references I was throwing at him. But his voice was clear and steady enough. “Forgive me,” he said, inclining his head. “I am
Isantra
Yleli.”

I stared at him. “
Yleli
?”

“I’m pleased you remember his name,” Yleli said, clearly enjoying my bewilderment. “Yes, the late Tech Yleli was one of my kinsmen.” His blaze darkened. “That was why we knew his murder would be the ideal bait to draw you and the alien woman Bayta into our
Kuzyatru
Station trap.”

A shiver ran up my back. I’d known how ruthless the Shonkla-raa were. But this was a level of cold-bloodedness far beyond anything even I had expected.

And I’d deliberately brought Rebekah into reach of these people. Rebekah, Terese, and Bayta.

But there was still a chance. I had to hold on to that. “I’m constrained to point out that his murder, convenient though it might have been for you, didn’t exactly result in a Shonkla-raa victory. As I recall, it ended in a rather resounding Shonkla-raa defeat.”

His blaze went considerably darker this time. “They were careless,” he said stiffly. “We won’t make that mistake again.”

“Of course not,” I said. “But thank you for the demo. I imagine you’ll want to settle back in under your rocks before the rest of the passengers finish toasting the birthday boy and come trooping back.”

“There’s no hurry,” Yleli assured me. “It is, after all, a very long and complicated toast. And the demo is far from over.” He gestured to one of his two companions.

The other nodded silently and turned, heading forward toward the compartment car. He reached the vestibule, popped open the door, and stepped inside.

I tensed. The instant the door closed behind him, his contribution to the control tone holding Morse in place would be cut off. That would leave just the other Shonkla-raa still broadcasting. If I could get to him before Yleli could pick up the slack …

But Yleli was already a step ahead of me. The vestibule door was still sliding closed when he raised his own voice in the whistling control tone. “What now?” I asked, wondering if I could get him to stop whistling and explain or gloat some more.

But again, he was smarter than that. He ignored the question, keeping up his part of the siren song. Grimacing, with nothing else I could do, I settled in to wait.

The seconds stretched into minutes. Morse’s face changed once during that time, lines of puzzlement or concern rippling briefly across his face. But if Yleli noticed, he didn’t bother to ask about it. To my right, the Cimma snuffled a couple of times, and I realized he’d fallen asleep with the dit-rec drama still playing in his chair’s sound system. Maybe he’d been asleep all along. Behind me, the old man gave a wet-sounding snort of his own and shifted a little in his own journey through dreamland.

And then, after about three minutes, the vestibule door opened again and Terese stumbled into view, her face ashen white. Behind her was Rebekah, her eyes as glazed in their own way as Morse’s, walking toward our little group like a person in a slow-motion dream.

Behind them, her eyes not nearly so glazed, her expression a mixture of fear and determination, her arm held firmly in the Shonkla-raa’s grip, was Bayta.

“You said earlier that was one for our side,” Yleli said as the newcomers came up behind him. “I believe this is now
four
for our side.”

I studied Rebekah as she and the others came to a halt. The impression I’d first had of her as a sleepwalker was still holding. Her movements were slow and reluctant, and I noticed that she took an extra step after the Shonkla-raa came to a halt, as if she was slightly out of synch with her new masters’ commands. Maybe that was the Melding itself, or possibly her polyp colony plus the inertia of the extra coral tucked away in the compartment.

Still, the fact that Rebekah
was
moving, albeit slowly, didn’t add up to much of a victory for our side.

Not that I was going to admit that to Yleli. “Looks more like three and a half to me,” I said. “Or maybe two and two halves. Rebekah doesn’t look like she’d be of much use in a fight, and you’re barely getting Bayta to walk.”

“I admit your new allies are a challenge,” Yleli said. “But have no fear. We’ll have them under full control soon enough.” He half turned to look at Bayta. “As for Bayta, a bit of study on her and we’ll soon have her people’s command tone, as well.”

“Not likely,” I said. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a double flicker of subdued light from the Tube wall outside the display window on that side. “I also seriously doubt that Rebekah and her Melding cohorts will ever be of any practical fighting use to you.” I gestured at her. “You might as well attack Buckingham Palace with a bunch of stick puppets. In fact, let’s give it a try.” I started forward, veering to the side to avoid Yleli and Morse, and headed toward Rebekah.

The sheer unexpectedness of the move apparently caught Yleli by surprise. I got to within two steps of Rebekah before he took a quick step to his side, putting himself between her and me. “Stop!” he ordered, his hands snapping up into their stabbing configurations.

“What’s the problem?” I asked, stopping as ordered and forcing my hands to stay at my sides. The last thing I wanted right now was to give him even half an excuse to attack me. “You think you can control her well enough to fight? Fine. Prove it.”

“Move back,” Yleli said, all trace of his earlier mocking levity gone. He’d probably heard enough of my exploits from the Proteus survivors to know that even the most casual move on my part should be viewed with suspicion.

So had his two friends. Even as I obediently took a step backward they circled around Morse and the women to flank me. “You have the wrong idea,” I said mildly.

{Remove him to the baggage area,} Yleli said, his voice all icy business now as he switched from English to Fili. {Secure him there—we may yet have need of him alive. When you return we’ll transfer the coral to our compartment for closer study.} One of the other two Shonkla-raa acknowledged, and they both started toward me.

And at that moment, the vestibule door behind them at the forward end of the car slid open and a dozen Bellidos streamed in, chattering away among themselves, the soft plastic status guns in their shoulder holsters bouncing rhythmically against their sides as they walked. The whole Belldic doctor contingent had apparently decided to head en masse to the dining car for an early dinner.

One or two witnesses apparently weren’t a problem for Yleli, given that he hadn’t bothered to completely clear out the coach car before confronting us. But even a Shonkla-raa had to hesitate at the logistical challenge of killing and disposing of this many beings. He snapped a quiet order that stopped his two buddies in their tracks, flashed me a warning look, then went as still as a hunter in a duck blind as he watched the line of doctors strolling toward us.

Not that the Bellidos themselves showed the slightest awareness that anything unusual was unfolding in front of them. A couple of them glanced incuriously at our group, then returned to their conversations. A couple of others looked around and at the ceiling, frowns briefly crossing their striped chipmunk faces as they tried to locate the source of the command tone whistle filling the car.

But the sound had no medical ramifications, and their interest was idle and brief, and they too quickly turned their attention back to their colleagues. The leading edge of the stream reached us and split, each conversational group turning left or right at random, avoiding the motionless clump of humans and Fillies as they continued on their way in their quest for food.

And then, in front of me, I heard Yleli catch his breath.

Perhaps he’d belatedly realized that the Bellidos’ casual traffic pattern had flanked himself and his companions. Perhaps he’d suddenly noticed that the soft plastic guns bouncing at the doctors’ sides no longer had their long plastic barrels. {Alert!} he snapped.

But he was too late. As he brought his hands up into combat position, I threw myself forward and down, dropping onto my side on the floor and aiming a kick at his knees. Reflexively, he turned his eyes back to me, simultaneously dancing back to get out of kicking range.

As he did so, the two Bellidos passing us pulled nunchakus from beneath their tunics and whipped them with crushing force across his throat.

And pandemonium erupted.

I rolled up and leaped back to my feet as the rest of the Bellidos charged to the attack, their nunchakus whipping with devastating force across the other two Shonkla-raa’s heads, arms, and torsos as I tried to get to Bayta and the two girls. But Yleli was faster than I was. He slashed viciously at one of his two attackers and then jumped into my path, his other hand jabbing at my gut. I managed to twist out of his way in time, but the movement cost me my balance and I went crashing back onto the floor.

Yleli leaped at me again, aiming a kick at my head, but even as I ducked out of the way he staggered as a nunchaku slash caught his other knee. With his supporting leg under attack, he was forced to drop his kicking leg prematurely back to the floor. The other Bellido was already swinging his nunchaku at Yleli’s head, but the Filly managed to drop into a crouch in time, leaving the flail to whip harmlessly through the air above him. Before either of the Bellidos could recover for another attack Yleli shoved himself off the floor, again diving at me.

I was caught flatfooted, on my way back up to a standing position but not quite there yet. Desperately, I tried to throw myself to the side, knowing the move would again cost me balance and mobility but not having any other real options.

But I was too late. Yleli was hurtling toward me, his arm held rigidly in front of him like an organic spear. One of the nunchakus whipped past, slamming into his back hard enough to crack bone but doing little to alter his direction or speed. There was a blur of motion at my right.

And Morse’s body slammed sideways into Yleli’s shoulder, knocking him off-target and sending both of them sprawling onto the floor.

Somewhere in all that nunchaku flailing, while I’d been preoccupied with my own troubles, the Bellidos had managed to silence both of the other Shonkla-raa command tones.

I hit the floor and rolled back up to my feet. Morse was still on top of Yleli, trying to pin him down. But like all the rest of the Shonkla-raa I’d run into, Yleli had been genetically modified for strength. With a single violent shove he threw Morse half a meter into the air to crash down onto the floor beside him and started to scramble to his feet.

His eyes were glittering death in my direction when two nunchakus caught him one final time, one of the flails slamming again into his throat, the other hitting hard enough to splinter bone at the back of his skull. He sprawled face-first onto the floor.

This time, he didn’t get up.

I looked around, gasping in vast lungfuls of air. All three Shonkla-raa were down, all of them quite dead. Four of the twelve Bellidos were also down, one of them probably also dead, the other three making the small sounds and movements of the seriously wounded. The Bellidos still on their feet were gazing warily at the three dead Fillies, but I could see them starting to slowly come down from their adrenaline-driven combat frenzy. As I stumbled over to where Morse was lying on the floor, four of the Bellidos headed over to check their wounded. Across the room, a horrified Terese and a grim-faced but steady Rebekah were clinging to each other. Bayta was nowhere in sight.

The whole deadly melee, I estimated, had lasted less than thirty seconds.

Morse was starting to stir by the time I reached him. “You okay?” I asked, offering him a hand.

“Mostly,” he said, his voice dark as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Bloody
hell
, but that was weird.”

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