Jo Clayton - Shadow of the Warmaster

“Don’t move.”

Pels and I froze; there was a load of menace in that whispery female voice. I took a chance and turned my head. Seven more females in black with knitted black socks over their faces followed the first through the door, spreading out so they could keep their weapons on us from half a dozen directions. Definitely not authorized personnel. The wormholes were having a busy night. “Can I straighten up?” I said, as mildly as I could manage. “I’m getting a crick in my back.”

The leader used her free hand to tap twice at her weapon. “The darts these shoot don’t stun,” she said, “they kill.” The look in her eyes which was all I could see of her face said don’t push it, I like you about as much as a bad smell. “Three seconds for a man your size. Less for your friend.” She thought that over a moment. “Probably less. Keep that in mind. Get yourself straight. Slow and easy. That’s right. Now. Both of you. Step over that bench and flatten your backs against the wall. That’s good.” She glanced at Adelaar who hadn’t been interested enough to look around and see what was happening. “What’re you doing?”

“Don’t bother me,” Adelaar snapped; hands briefly stilled, she scowled over her shoulder at the speaker. “Unless you want a load of trouble landing on your necks.”

“Talk as you work.”

“No.” Adelaar turned back to the board and went on with what she’d been doing.

I didn’t like the way that conversation was going. Adelaar had no intention of being reasonable, especially since she was right; what she was doing was more important than this woman’s curiosity. However, I was fairly sure the woman wouldn’t see it that way. “Uh,” I said, “I can tell you in general terms what’s going on. She’s not playing games with you, you’d better let her concentrate on what she’s doing; it can get touchy, changing the rules on an alarm system that complex.”

The woman’s eyes switched back to me. She wasn’t liking me much more than before, but she was willing to listen. “What do you mean?”

“You came across some bodies on your way here?”

“Yes.”

“Some of them were guards. You know how they check in?”

“We know there’s something they’re supposed to do.”

Fools and drunks, they say Luck looks after them, maybe they should add angry female rebels. Going into a place like this with no preparation… ah! “Every twenty some minutes they touch a thumbplate set up along their routes. That tells the Brain there that they’re on the job and where they should be. If a guard doesn’t report and all systems look clear, the lid blows off. My friend is changing the rules, making touch and no-touch equivalent states. In other words, it doesn’t matter what a guard does or doesn’t do.” I snatched a look at Adelaar. “No, I’m wrong, she’s done with that. She’s putting together a clear corridor so we can get out clean once we have what we came for. Did you use those darts on anyone?”

“Why?’

“The ones we knocked out, in an hour or so they’ll wake up with a sore head,” I was talking quietly, keeping things relatively abstract, trying to cool down the situation; seemed to me it was working, so I kept on, “it’s been our experience that guards like them, unless they’re terminally stupid, when they find out there’s no sign of trouble they keep their mouths shut about going to sleep on the job. You see, they won’t remember what hit them, the stunner wipes out the last few seconds before they go down. With you leaving bodies about, that’s not going to happen. Shit. Can’t be helped, I suppose.” I gave her a grin. “Anyway, it’s you and your friends who’re going to get the blame for all this.”

“No doubt. Who are you and why are you here?”

“You’ve been importing slaves.”

“Not me.” She made the two words sound terminally grim.

“Whatever. We’re here to collect some of them. My friend there, the reason she’s a bit testy, she had her daughter snatched.”

“I see.” She inspected Adelaar’s back. She had very bright eyes, hazel, expressive. Good figure. Athletic. Despite the cowl I thought I’d know her again if I met her in other clothes and other surroundings. Reminded me a little of Shadow. I relaxed; she wasn’t going to use that darter unless we were thicker than usual and forced it on her. She caught me smiling; she didn’t like that, but she was cool about it. “Clear corridor. Explain.”

“Deactivating traps, alarms, scanners, acoustics, melters, whatever, so we can scat like our tail’s on fire once we’re finished.”

“Scanners. It was you took them out?”

“My furry friend did. He’s good at that kind of thing. But the techs here, they’ve probably replaced the burnouts by now, and maybe someone has come up with the idea the flare was sabotage, so we don’t have all that much time. If you’ll just calm down and let us work…”

“Seems to me we haven’t interfered all that much.”

Adelaar dug in her pack, brought out the black box she called her crazyquilt; Pels was watching avidly, the smooth black plastic didn’t give him much to go on, but he was blasting into his memory the points where she clamped the leads; he’d hung over her like a worried mother when she started tinkering on the EYEs, but she chased him, saying he made her so nervous she was botching the work. Actually, I think she didn’t want him or anyone else around her when she was using her tools, look at the fuss she made over Kinok’s snooping. She had her secrets and meant to keep them.

“Maybe we could get together on this.” I was trying a little basic persuasion, push but not too hard. “We need information; you want something or you wouldn’t be here.”

She thought that over, those bright eyes flicking from me to Pels and back, then she nodded. She didn’t put the darter away, she held it loosely so she could snap it up if she needed to. “Don’t push at me,” she said, a much more amiable tone to her voice. “You say you’re here to take some slaves home. We can certainly stand the loss. What’s she doing now?”

“Getting past the blocks; when she’s through, she’ll be looking for slave lists. Who’s where.”

“Ah. If she can do that, what do you want from me?”

“Mind if I move away from the wall, my leg’s getting cramped.”

“If you’ll remember…” She flicked the darter at the silent women watching us.

“I hear you.” Moving slow and easy, I stepped over the bench and crossed to Adelaar. “About how long?”

She jumped, glared at me. Sweat was beaded over her face and there was a wild look in her eyes.

“Del, cool it, will you?” I know that wasn’t the most tactful thing I could have said; I didn’t mean to be tactful; I thought she needed an excuse to blow up, so I gave her one. She cursed me for half a minute. I don’t know Sonchйri, but those words didn’t need translation, they sounded like a couple of k’yangs snarling at each other. When she wore out her vocabulary, she dragged a hand across her face, gave me a disgusted look and went back to watching the readout dials on her black box.

I left her to it and ambled over to another work station, swung the chair around and sat straddling it, my arms crossed over the padded back looking cool and friendly. Nothing like a clichй to comfort the edgy. “Hanifa,” I said which MEMORY told me was a courteous honorific for an important femme, a good description for the one facing me, “might be a good idea to send a couple of your people outside, keep watch for rovers looking for trouble. Maybe the tall one there could put on enough of his uniform,” I jerked a thumb at the unconscious guard, “to suggest he’s still on guard. Another idea, my friend here is rather good at stalking, you see him take the guard? Right, then you know what I mean. You’ve got us two as hostages for his good behavior, why not let him help with the patrolling? He’s an amiable soul if you don’t coo at him too much. Women do, you know, it’s the curse of his life.”