Only it wasn't just one of Frost's men, a man who would know Chiggers at a glance. It was far worse . . . and it was the last person Jack had expected to see here.
It was StarForce Wing Sergeant Jonathan Langston. The man who'd helped him escape from Semaline.
A man Jack had thought was dead.
CHAPTER 11
In that single frozen heartbeat. Jack felt his mental camouflage being stripped away like the wrapper off a ration bar. Not only would Langston know Chiggers by sight; he was possibly one of the few aboard who would also instantly recognize Jack himself.
And with that, the quiet game Draycos had hoped for had come to an abrupt end. The minute Langston spotted Jack and squawked his name, the two Brummgas poking at their access panel would be on to him.
Jack and Draycos had to take all three of them out before that happened.
Jack dropped his hand casually to his holstered tangler. I may not be able to get than all before someone yells, he warned Draycos. As soon as I start shooting, you'd better head forward by yourself to deal with the Death weapons.
What about you?
I'll be all right, Jack told him, knowing full well it was a lie. A single squawk out of any of the three would draw the whole ship down on him. If they didn't kill him outright, they would haul him back to the Advocatus Diaboli and give him to Neverlin, which would pretty much amount to the same thing.
But that didn't matter. All that mattered was that he give Draycos as much time as possible to find and destroy the Death weapons. On three, he said. One, two—
Wait, Draycos cut him off, an odd tone to the texture of his thoughts.
Jack flicked his eyes around the room, wondering what had caught the K'da's attention. There was nothing Jack could see that could possibly help them. He looked back at Langston, bracing himself.
Only Langston wasn't staring at him, his eyes wide, his mouth open, a shout of warning boiling out of his throat.
In fact, he wasn't looking at Jack at all. He was still gazing intently down at his notepad.
And he wasn't walking straight toward Jack anymore, either. Instead, he was angling across the bay toward the patrol ship. "Hey, Chiggers," he called casually, still not looking up. "Good trip?"
Answer him, Draycos prompted.
It took Jack another half second to put his Chiggers face and voice back in place. "I lived through it," he growled. "What's been happening here?"
"Not a thing," Langston said. He raised his eyes from his notepad, but now they were focused on the hatchway leading into Jack's patrol ship. "Looking forward to the big battle, though."
"I'm looking forward to the loot at the end of it," Jack countered.
"That'll be nice, too," Langston agreed. "See you later."
With that, he stepped through the hatchway and disappeared into the ship. Move, Draycos urged.
Abruptly, Jack realized he was standing still, staring at the hatchway where Langston had disappeared. Now, that was just plain unreal, he told Draycos as he got his feet moving again.
Not unreal, Draycos said grimly. Deliberate.
What are you talking about? Jack asked. You saw the uniform. He's gone over to Neverlin's side.
He most certainly has not, Draycos said, his tone leaving no room for argument. There's no possible way he could have failed to see and recognize you. He deliberately gave you a pass. Gave us a pass.
Jack grimaced. The K'da was right. He had to be.
Which meant that, somehow, Langston had talked his way into Frost's crew in order to help save the incoming refugees.
It also meant he was going to be in serious trouble when the balloon went up. Very serious trouble indeed.
I know that, Draycos said, answering Jack's unvoiced thought. So does he.
A shiver ran up Jack's back as he stepped through the door into a long corridor. Once before, he'd thought Langston had gone to his death to protect Jack and Draycos. Now Jack knew the man had lived through that particular ordeal.
Only to now be facing death for a second time. And again for Jack and Draycos.
He is a true warrior, Draycos said. He has made his decision, and his sacrifice. It's up to us to make sure that sacrifice is not in vain.
You got it, buddy, Jack said grimly. It was, he decided, about time he showed some of that determination and ruthlessness Uncle Virgil had hammered into him over their long years together. Let's go find us some Death weapons.
For the first few days of their time together in the lifepod, Alison and Taneem had done little but talk.
Most of the talking at the beginning was on Alison's side as she turned their forced idleness into an impromptu school. She taught Taneem everything she knew about the Advocatus Diaboli, about Neverlin and Frost and the Malison Ring, and more about Brummgas than anyone in the Orion Arm probably wanted to know. The lifepod they were in had some limited flight capability, and she spent one entire afternoon drilling Taneem on the theory and practice of space flight.
After that had come lectures on skulking, information gathering, and combat. Most of what Alison knew about the latter didn't directly apply to K'da, but she'd seen Draycos in action enough times to have some idea how he would deal with various combat situations.
Taneem didn't especially like that set of lessons. She didn't say anything, but Alison could tell. Taneem didn't like fighting, and the thought of possibly having to kill again made her sick.
But she also knew what was at stake. Whatever it took to save the K'da and Shontine refugees, she would do it.
Around the sixth day the lessons had mostly ended. Alison couldn't think of anything else to teach, and both of them were getting pretty tired of the seminars anyway.
After that, their conversations shifted to more personal matters. Alison told Taneem about her life growing up, while Taneem gave what little she could remember about her life as a Phooka.
By the ninth day, they'd run out of even minor things to talk about. Fortunately, the lifepod's equipment included a deck of cards, and Alison spent several relaxing hours teaching Taneem some of the games she and her parents and grandparents had enjoyed when she was a girl.
It was on the tenth day, and she was trying to come up with a way to modify the cards for some of the more specialized games she knew, when she heard the faint warbling of the ship's emergency alarm.
"What's that?" Taneem asked, bounding to her feet.
"Emergency alarm," Alison said grimly, stepping to the door and pressing her ear against the cold metal. She could hear the alarm itself more clearly, but there was no sign of the automated instructions that usually accompanied such an alert. "I don't hear any abandon-ship announcements," she told Taneem, digging out her receiver and turning it on. "Maybe Neverlin's got something to say on the subject."
She stuck the receiver into her ear as Taneem slithered up her sleeve onto her skin. "—want to get up here right away," Frost's voice came, soft and distant. Probably coming from the intercom on Neverlin's desk. "The Essenay has just come off ECHO outside our sentry ring."
"Morgan?" Neverlin demanded. "How in blazes did he find us?"
"I don't know," Frost said grimly. "And it's not Jack Morgan. It's Virgil."