"No, thank you," Draycos assured him.
The display finished its sequence and cleared to an impressive image of the Chookoock family mansion with the rising sun shooting rays of light across the sky behind it. "They don't think much of themselves, do they?" Jack muttered, peering down at the keyboard. It was all done up in Brummgan letters, naturally.
Carefully, making sure he got it right, he keyed in the first part of the sewer-rat sequence.
Nothing happened.
Draycos's head rose slightly from his shoulder. "When will something happen?" he asked.
"In theory, about three seconds ago," Jack said. He tried the sequence again, double-checking it as he did. Still nothing. "We got trouble," he told the dragon, calling up the computer's spec page. A triple column of Brummgan words scrolled down on top of the picture of the mansion.
Even with the alien words, one glance was all it took. "Great," he growled.
"This piece of junk isn't using a human operating system. It's running something Brummgan. Pretty old-fashioned, too, from the looks of it."
The dragon's head lifted higher, pushing the collar against the side of Jack's neck. "The sewer-rat trick works only with human-designed systems?"
Jack let his hands fall uselessly back into his lap. "You got it."
"Did you not consider this possibility? This is a Brummgan facility, after all."
"Sure, but Gazen is a human." Pushing back from the desk, Jack crossed his foot across his knee. A brief stab of pain ran through the thigh as he did so, a souvenir of one of Her Thumbleness's casual kicks. "Besides, who doesn't use human operating systems these days?"
The dragon's tongue flicked out toward the computer. "The Chookoock family, apparently," he said.
"Yeah," Jack agreed. Pulling out the hidden comm clip, he clicked it on.
"Uncle Virge?"
"I'm here," the computer voice came back. "Are you all right, lad?"
"I'm alive," Jack said sourly. "For a slave, that's doing pretty good. Where are you?"
"Still at the Ponocce Spaceport," Uncle Virge said. "I've been putting Gazen's credit line to use fixing some of the damage and deterioration we've collected over the past few months."
"I hope you aren't letting them take apart anything vital," Jack warned. "We may need to get out of here on a minute's notice."
"Don't worry, I'm not," Uncle Virge said. "I hope that means that this call is good news."
"Actually, it's kind of mixed," Jack said. "The good news is that I'm in Gazen's office. The bad news is that the Chookoock family's using an old Brummgan operating system."
"How old?"
"Uh—" Jack peered at the complicated script, trying to find the registration date.
"There," Draycos said. A foreleg rose from the back of Jack's right hand, an extended claw pointing to the lower left part of the display. "If I read correctly, that would be... forty years ago."
Uncle Virge whistled softly. "Forty years? I'm sorry, lad, but all the tricks I
know are for modern computers with modern operating systems. Not for something that came off the Ark."
Jack sighed. "I was afraid of that."
"What about other information sources?" Draycos asked. "Surely someone has broken into such systems in the past."
"Yeah, what about that?" Jack asked. "Any of Uncle Virgil's old friends ever work on Brum-a-dum? Or could someone have a file in a thieves' database somewhere?"
"I can look," Uncle Virge said, his voice tight. "But unless we're very lucky, I
don't think we'll have enough time to find anything."
An uncomfortable shiver ran up Jack's back. "Why not?"
"Gazen has set up a special slave auction for five days from now," Uncle Virge said. "The prize item up for sale is you."
CHAPTER 18
"Okay," Jack said, trying to keep his voice calm and casual. "That's not so bad.
Matter of fact, that might be the best way to get me out of here. Let them sell me, then I'll duck out on the buyer once we're off-planet."
"I wouldn't count on that if I were you," Uncle Virge warned. "Or don't you think the Chookoock family has dealt with unwilling slaves before?"
Jack felt his throat tighten. "You mean not just handcuffs or those control collar things they used on us on Sunright?"
Uncle Virge snorted gently. "Amateur stuff, used by people in a hurry. No, I expect the Chookoock family will be more thorough. A lot more thorough."
"So you're telling me I'm in trouble?"
"I'm telling you this whole plan was insane to begin with," Uncle Virge said flatly. "I'm telling you it's time to give up, pull the plug, and get out while you still can."
Jack stared at the picture on the display, his eyes tracing along the patterns of the stone making up the mansion walls. Big stones. Hard stones. As hard and cold and unfeeling as the people who lived within them. Even the mercenaries he'd dealt with had cared more about people than Gazen and the Chookoock family did.
What in space was he doing here, anyway?
"Jack?" Uncle Virge prompted. "Come on, lad, it's over. Cut your losses and let's blow this pop stand."
"And what will we do then?" Draycos asked. "Where will we go for the information we need?"
"Where we should have started in the first place," Uncle Virge said. "We dump this in StarForce's lap and let the professionals handle it."
"We've been through this, Uncle Virge," Jack said. "We can't let anyone else know about Draycos."
"Maybe we don't have to," Uncle Virge said. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but all we want is to keep Draycos safe from whoever the Valahgua have teamed up with.
Right?"
Jack frowned. He knew that tone of voice. There was some trick here. "All right," he said cautiously. "So?"
"So we go to StarForce," Uncle Virge said. "But we go anonymously."
"Pardon?" Draycos asked.
"Anonymously," Uncle Virge repeated. "We don't let them know who we are."
"I understand the word," Draycos said. "I do not understand the logic. How can we convince them of the truth without revealing my existence?"
"Ah, but we don't have to convince them of anything," Uncle Virge said.
"That's the beauty of it. All we have to do is drop them an anonymous tip that some mercenary group is using Djinn-90s to smuggle contraband. They get all hot and huffy and rush off to investigate."
"Assuming they believe us," Jack said. "They must get a million anonymous tips a
day."
"Even if they do believe, how does that help us?" Draycos added.
"Easy," Uncle Virge said. "We just watch over their shoulders while they investigate. They find our mercenary group, and there we are."
Jack rubbed his cheek. On the surface, it sounded reasonable enough. Best of all, he could do it from the comfort of the Essenay instead of from a dirty slave colony.
"What if they are delayed, or are too slow?" Draycos asked. "What if they give up their investigation and we do not know about it?"
"Nonsense," Uncle Virge scoffed. "We'll be on them like white on rice. We'll know everything they do, practically before they do it."
"And if we miss something important?" Draycos persisted. "We have less than three and one-half months before the full refugee fleet arrives. We cannot afford to waste any of that time."
"It wouldn't be a waste," Uncle Virge insisted. "StarForce knows what they're doing."
"No, he's right, Uncle Virge," Jack said. "We can't afford to take ourselves out of the game."