With a normal mob, under normal circumstances, I would be hearing multiple screams of agony by now. But not this mob. Not these circumstances. Under Shonkla-raa rule the standing order was apparently not to speak unless spoken to. The shock front wavered, then pressed ahead even as the blue-edged flames danced across the hair and shoulders of those behind them.
Over the whistle of the command tone, I heard a sort of gurgling sob. Like the Shonkla-raa, Terese also hadn’t expected me to be willing to do whatever needed to be done. But there were no words of reproof or horror, and that single sob was all I heard, and even as I threw my last Molotov cocktail I saw her move two of the uncapped bottles forward into my reach.
But for the moment I wouldn’t need them. The attack had hesitated at my second and third bombs. Now, as my sixth detonated into flame, the entire crowd wavered, then drew back a little as the pain flooding the mind segment briefly overrode even the Shonkla-raa’s control over it. They only moved a little, not more than half a meter and for no more than a couple of seconds before their new masters regained control and forced them back under their telepathic whip.
But that half meter was all I needed. With the forward pressure from the rear of the crowd no longer pressing the front line against the train and my defender barrier, I leveled the kwi at our attackers and squeezed the trigger.
My first target’s knees buckled, dropping him into a heap on the platform. I held down the trigger, sweeping the kwi back and forth across the line, collapsing them like legs of an overloaded table.
The Shonkla-raa tried to surge them forward again, trying furiously to regain the initiative. But they were too late. With the front line down, the stacks of unconscious bodies had become an impediment to further forward movement, slowing the advance still farther and giving me that much more time to mow them down. If the Fillies were stupid enough or determined enough to keep at it, they would quickly run out of troops.
Unfortunately, they were neither. I’d just started on the third row, with maybe twenty out of the hundred walkers down for the count, when the rest abruptly scattered to the rear and to both sides. I managed to nail three more of them as they ran, and then they were out of range or my line of fire.
I took a deep breath, instantly regretting it as the distant stink of burned clothing and flesh assailed my nostrils. Now that the crowd had dispersed I had a clear view of the burn victims I’d created, lying or writhing on the platform with wisps of smoke curling up from their smoldering bodies. I fired a kwi blast into each of them, to at least give them the temporary respite of unconsciousness.
“Clever, Compton,” a Filly voice called. “But surely you realize it’s all futile. You don’t truly think you can hold out against us forever, do you?”
“I don’t have to hold out nearly that long,” I called back. “Just until the next express train coming through here sees us, figures out something’s wrong, and sends an alert to the orbiting transfer station out there. There’s a whole contingent of Human soldiers aboard who’d love the chance for a little exercise.”
“And will they come into a Quadrail station willing to shoot everyone in sight, including their own people and visiting non-Humans?” the Shonkla-raa countered.
“An interesting question,” I agreed. “Shall we find out?”
For a moment the other was silent. I listened to the persistent and increasingly annoying command tone as I peered back and forth through my barrier, trying to figure out where all the walkers had disappeared to. But they’d all gone to ground somewhere out of sight. Only the four Shonkla-raa were still visible, still standing in their generals’ line, out of range of my kwi.
But if I could get out there and close some of that distance before they could get their walkers close to me …
“Your words demonstrate true Shonkla-raa spirit,” the spokesman said. “But I do not believe your strength of will is of the same magnitude.”
“I just firebombed a dozen of my own people,” I reminded him.
“I grant your willingness to wound or kill Humans you do not know,” the Shonkla-raa said. “But what about friends and allies? Are you willing to sacrifice them, as well?”
I snorted under my breath. “I think you may be missing the point of why I’m sitting here in this doorway.”
“I do not refer to those allies aboard the Quadrail,” he said. “I refer to these allies.” He shouted something in a unfamiliar Fili dialect.
“What’s he talking about?” Terese murmured in my ear.
“I don’t know,” I said, frowning as two Humans and a fifth Filly appeared through the door of one of the cafés. They headed across the line of platforms toward us, and I saw now that the Shonkla-raa was pushing the Humans ahead of him with his hands wrapped snugly around the backs of their necks.
“Who are they?” Terese asked.
“Can’t tell yet,” I told her. But both men definitely seemed familiar. They continued forward, the Humans’ faces slowly coming into focus—
I caught my breath. One of the men was UN director Biret Losutu. The other was my former employer Larry Cecil Hardin.
I stared at them, a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Losutu, the one man on Earth who knew enough about this war and had the authority to recruit the army I needed. If the Shonkla-raa murdered him, that would be it for any and all help from my own people.
Larry Hardin, the high-profile industrialist whom I’d blackmailed out of a trillion dollars and who would gladly see me twisting in the wind. If the Shonkla-raa murdered him, it would be a race as to whether the Shonkla-raa or Hardin’s own security force got to me first.
“I don’t think either of those are what I’d call a friend or an ally,” I called out to the Shonkla-raa, forcing my voice to stay calm and detached. “You got anything else?”
“I offer you a trade,” the newcomer called as he brought Losutu and Hardin to a halt, again staying well out of kwi range. “These two Human males for the female Terese German.”
Behind me, Terese gripped my arm tightly. “Sorry,” I called back. “Ms. German and her baby aren’t for sale.”
“Then we will kill the males,” the Shonkla-raa said, his voice darkening. “And then we will kill all the other innocents in the station. And all for nothing, because no help will come from your transfer station. Not ever.”
The knot in my stomach tightened another turn. “You don’t seriously expect me to believe you’ve taken over the whole transfer station.”
“And you think we could not?” He gave a contemptuous whinny. “Perhaps someday. This day we content ourselves with controlling the Spiders, who in turn control the docking hatchways. No help will arrive, for no help can enter the station.”
I grimaced. I’d hoped he wouldn’t realize that. “Except that unlike your Quadrail stations, ours have manual overrides,” I said, trying one final bluff.
“They do not,” the Shonkla-raa said flatly. “I make the offer again: Terese German for these two males.”
“Compton!” Losutu called. “Don’t—” He broke off with a strangled gurgle.
“What are we going to do?” Terese asked tensely.
I chewed at my lip. Unfortunately, the Shonkla-raa was right. We were trapped here, with no hope of help from Earth or the Spiders, facing five Shonkla-raa and probably seventy-five or more functional walkers. No matter what kind of defenses we were able to cobble together, sooner or later they would find a way through or else would overwhelm us with sheer numbers.
There was nothing more I could do in here except stall for time. Out there, though, I might find a weakness I could exploit. “Counteroffer,” I called. “You release the two males, forget about Ms. German, and you can have me.”