Jo Clayton: Shadowplay

At intervals along the corridors she passed rectangles set in the walls, hatches meant to let Station engineers into the repairways-where her army was now. She pulled that army with her as she ran, thinking of the moment when the furry horde would pour from a hatch onto him, rats biting, spiders spitting their digestive sprays, kapaweys plunging their poison tails into him, d'dabs gnawing at him and so on; it was an ugly image and she smiled with pleasure at it. All she needed now was a dark and quiet place with a hatch nearby,

She turned a corner, found herself in the middle of a kidnapping. Chapter 2. From one frying pan into another frying pan

Before she had time to react, one of the kidnappers had an arm wrapped around her and a slicer against her temple. "Move and you're dead," he whispered. His breath was hot on her ear, she was pressed hard against him; he wasn't much taller or wider than she was, but she kept thinking of steel traps and sword blades and other hard and lethal things. Lethal, yeh. He wanted to kill her so badly she could smell it like body odor. She went stone still.

In the ensuing silence the sound of the guard's bootheels was shockingly loud. He was strolling along a few turns back, not hurrying but he'd be here in a couple of breaths; she could feel her captor tensing. "Please," she whispered. "He's no friend of mine, get me away from him."

Another of the kidnappers was hunched over the lock on an office Mot% He straightened and stepped back as the door slid open. The two blacksacked captives were shoved inside, the three men controlling them close on their heels. The man holding Shadith pushed her away from him so she could walk, but kept a punishing grip on her arm. She went into the office with him beside her.

The locksmith followed them in, pulled the door shut; unhurried, calm as a rock, he walked to the desk, tilted up the sensor pad and tapped on the snoop-lock. He folded his arms, frowned at her. "You know who that is?" He had a round unmemorable face… no, it was a flesh mask; they all wore flesh masks, good ones, it took the harsh toplight in the office to show her what they were.

This shift had knocked her off-balance, but she wasn't as frightened as she had been; these were professionals, not about to start slaughtering indiscriminately-or raping, gods be blessed-even that psycho with the deathgrip on her arm. Her head was getting addled trying to keep hold of her vermin army, i•was hard to talk or think, so she let them go running off, if she needed them she could always round up another horde.

"Transit Guard," she said; when the grip on her arm tightened yet more, she added hastily, "He's a veal hound with the hots forme. I was trying to get away from him." Tension made her voice husky.

The bossman lifted his hand. Muted by the thickness of the wall she heard the guard moving past the office, his footsteps quicker. He hurried on down the hall.

She shivered, sweat crawled down her neck. "It'd be a good idea to set that lock again; he'll be back to try these doors once he's sure he lost me. And in a rancid mood you better believe."

"Why do you warn us?"

"Because he makes my skin crawl." She licked her lips. "I'd rather your lot than him."

He nodded. She could feel he was pleased with her, a dusty, creaky sort of pleasure. "It locks automatically," he said. "Sit down on the desk here, child. Lute, let go of her arm, please." He waited until she was settled, then went on, "We will stay here until that beast is finished with his explorations. Would he dare use the guard scanner to satisfy his lusts? Is the Authority here so corrupt they allow the gratuitous seduction of children?" Corrupt? Gratuitous seduction? Pedantic prissy kidnapper?

Shadith bit her lip, winced as her teeth hit the cut. "That guard's been harrying me back and forth across the Mall for the past hour under the noses of the other guards; they knew what was going on and didn't give a shit." His eyes went blank at the word, the crazy streak in him popped out like a distended vein, but he didn't say anything. Uh-oh, keep it clean, Shadow.

"Even if it weren't so," she went on, "I'm sure I could think up a dozen good reasons to scan the Station for someone. You could, too, sir, couldn't you?"

"I see. Lute, move the screen there, get ready to open the wall, but do not do it yet. We will wait until the beast leaves the area before we cut through. Child, sit where you are and answer questions when you are asked and keep quiet otherwise. I would rather not feed you comealong and put you with them." He indicated the silent, slumped captives with a quick gesture of a hand like a collection of sticks. "Be calm, we will do you no harm, we do not sully innocence." After that astonishing speech, he crossed to the bright orange chairs arranged in a rigid row along the wall, sat with his hands resting on his meager thighs, his tar-colored eyes shining dully as he contemplated his captives, then turned to Shadith.

"What is your name, child?"

"Shadith, sir."

"And your family, where are they?"

Shadith looked down at her hands; they were trembling. She pressed them together. "All dead."

"I see. Your homeworld?"

"A place called Ibex out back of beyond. You won't have heard of it." She rubbed thumb against thumb, nervously amused by the prevarication; in a way it was the truth, Ibex was where she acquired this body.

He accepted the answer without comment. "Where are you going?"

"University, sir."

"Why?"

"To learn more about music, ancient songs and antique instruments."

Bossman went very still, then he smiled at his second. "My Luck," he said reverently.

Lute lifted the slicer as if he raised a glass to toast the Lady. "Oh yes, sir. What a coup, the Singer landing in your lap."

Shadith swallowed, stroked her throat. The room suddenly stank of craziness. Lute was riding a wave of… something… high as the hips on a Bawang; her mind-ride fluttered with the fervor of his belief in his leader's Luck.

Bossizan clicked his tongue, annoyed at losing her attention. He spoke sharply. "What ship? When does it leave?"

Her fmgers jerked. She dropped her. hand. "One of the Ji freighters. Paepyol Hayyun Ji. They told me the shuttle starts loading sixteen forty-five."

"The guard out there. How did you catch his eye?"

"I didn't do anything. I didn't even look at him." If I could get at you, bastard, I'd rearrange your organs. How dare you imply it was my fault that slime went after me! Cool it, Shadow, you don't know what's going on here. He keeps calling you child. Be one. It couldn't hurt.

"He kept coming up behind me," she said, letting the words rush out as if she weren't taking time to think what she was saying. "And… and touching me. Yukh. It was horrible. I thought if I could just keep away from him until the shuttle was ready, everything would be all right, but he wouldn't leave me alone. He kept pushing me until he chased me down here."

"I see. You have baggage?"

"Yes, sir. I left it at Customs, in a locker. What are you going to do with me?"

"Protect you, child. Now be quiet and let me think." He leaned back, folded his arms across his chest and dosed his eyes.

Shadith ran her tongue back and forth over the cut inside her lip and tried to figure out what she'd got herself into. She couldn't tell much about the prisoners, the blacksacks were cinched in at their waists, covering arms and hands as well as head and torso. They were both male bipeds, leg-to-body ratio about the same, they both wore the sort of trousers most travelers favored, male and female alike, the kind she was wearing, tough wrinkleproof material with a number of zippered pockets. One was a lot broader and taller than the other, but that didn't mean much because she didn't know their ages. She tasted at them with her Talent, but the comealong blocked her; the drug smothered everything individual about them. If Bossman booted her out now, she wouldn't have a clue to the species of the captives, let alone their specific identities.