“Damn,” a deep-voiced man said. “I wouldn’t have believed it unless I’d seen it with my own eye. You’re quicker than a wounded slarn.”
Maddox scrambled to his feet, confronting Cesar Villars.
The slarn hunter was blocky with a thick neck and an ugly scar running across his right eye and down his cheek. It must have come from a slarn’s claw. The eye-socket contained a smooth ball bearing. Likely, it doubled as a tech tool, giving the man radar vision. Villars wore leather garments, probably cured slarn skin. Everyone prized slarn fur. Only hunters used the toughened leather.
Villars had grizzled white hair and weather-beaten features. He gripped a long slarn knife in his right hand. It glittered in the hall-light. He waved a stun rod in his left fist.
“Does Ludendorff know what you’re doing?” Maddox asked.
Villars frowned for just a moment. Then, the white-haired hunter grinned nastily.
“You’re the fancy-pants boy who can save the universe, aren’t you? But look at you. The shine of a knife makes you sweat. You want the professor to gallop along and save you. What a mama’s boy.”
Maddox snorted, allowing his body to relax so he appeared bored. “Yes. You’ve nailed it. I’m positively frightened by an incompetent like you.”
“That’s right, boy. That’s why you sprinted to see if your little lover girl was still in one piece. I let your lieutenant see my intentions. She did exactly what I wanted. But here’s what I’m wondering about you. Aren’t you curious yet if I’ve already carved Meta up?”
Maddox shrugged as if indifferent. Inside, he seethed.
“Yeah,” Villars said. “That’s nice. Your balls are sweating. I know what you’re thinking. Are you ever going to nail her again? Maybe I have her hanging like a piece of beef, with blood dripping to the floor from the places where I carved her. She don’t deserve such a fast death, though, not after what she did to Gorgon. That was a hell of a way to die from one-punch Sally.”
“You’re a sadist,” Maddox said.
“We all got our problems, right? Yours is my knife. Of course, you’re not going to have that problem much longer, as I’m going to pull the lungs out of your chest. They’ll flap a few times before you die, boy. It’s called a blood eagle, and it’s what I done to the last mama’s boy who pissed me off.”
“Why does Ludendorff keep a sadist in his company?” Maddox asked.
Villars’s grin grew, which put crinkle lines at the corners of his eyes. “I’m the best at what I do, and the professor, he appreciates skill. I help keep his skinny butt alive. The old man thinks he needs you, but Gorgon’s death shows me this time the professor is wrong.”
“Meta killed Gorgon, not me.”
“Shifting the blame, are we? Nice job, punk, let your woman take the blame. And here I thought you wanted to leave this universe as a man.”
“Your logic escapes me,” Maddox said.
“Better and better,” Villars said. The hunter crouched, and he began to maneuver toward Maddox. The slide of his left thumb made the stun rod hum with power. It must have been set at maximum strength.
“You see, boy, I happen to know you’re the white knight type. You want to ride in on your horse and rescue your little lady. But she’s got several days of screaming ahead of her, see? So, first I take you out, and then I take my time with her and do it right.”
“And when Ludendorff discovers what you’ve done?”
Villars snarled as hatred flashed in his eye. Flat-footed, he charged Maddox.
The captain kept his smile within. With ease, Maddox dodged the knife thrust. The slarn hunter acted with passion instead of cool intellect. Maddox struck, and surprised filled him as his hand harmlessly passed the man’s neck. The next second, the stun rod slammed against the captain’s ribs, discharging with a heavy zap.
Maddox catapulted backward. His back slammed against the deck plates. Trying to move, he found himself frozen in place.
“Smart boys always fall for that little trick,” Villars said. “They think I’m a hotheaded bozo. I think my little scar does it. What do you think?”
Maddox squeezed his eyes shut. At least he could still do that much. The slarn hunter had tricked him. Villars hadn’t attacked with blind fury, but with guile. Maddox should have realized a slarn hunter didn’t survive a Wolf Prime trapping season without animal cunning. This man must have lasted many winters on the ice world.
“I’m going to make this quick, boy,” Villars said. “So, you don’t have to piss yourself just yet. That’ll come ten seconds from now.”
Maddox opened his eyes. The slarn hunter peered down at him. Could he get the trapper to kneel?
With an act of will, Maddox opened his mouth. He spoke in a slurry way, “One…last question.”
“What’s that, boy? I can’t hear you. You have to speak up.”
The slarn hunter enjoyed taunting him. Maddox would have to play on that. He pretended to have trouble speaking.
The hunter chuckled, lowering his head. “Better hurry, lover-boy. Your days of talking are almost at an end.”
“If…” Maddox managed to say.
“Yeah, if what?”
“I could…”
Villars snarled with impatience. “You know I ain’t got time to listen to you blubber. So, you’ve got one more chance. Then I’m stroking you with the rod and going to work cutting out your lungs. The next thing you’ll know, you’ll be trying to fly with a blood eagle.”
Maddox strove with all his considerable concentration. He raised his head. The slarn hunter actually cocked an eyebrow in surprise. The head motion was a distraction. While making his lips writhe and his eyeballs bulge outward with pleading—causing Villars to chuckle with nasty enjoyment—Maddox thrust his fingers in his pocket and felt for a mini-grenade. It was hardly bigger than his thumbnail with an equal thickness in all directions. He pressed his thumb against the correct side, withdrew his hand and counted, hoping he got this right.
“I’ve had enough to this,” Villars said. He raised the stun rod.
Maddox used his thumb, flicking the grenade upward.
Villars caught the motion. His head twisted that way. “What the—”
The grenade exploded, expelling knockout gas. A single whiff would be enough. Maddox held his breath as he waited.
Understanding filled Villars’s good eye. He swung the rod, but he was already falling. The rod missed Maddox, striking the floor and discharging. Then the hunter’s body slammed against the captain. Maddox had tried to ready himself for it. His numbed body couldn’t do it in time. The captain’s wind was knocked out of him, and he involuntarily sucked down air, inhaling knockout gas as well.
***
Maddox came to groggily. For several seconds, he didn’t understand the heavy weight on his chest. Why was breathing so difficult? His sandpaper-dry mouth tasted vile.
Lying across his torso, Villars groaned. Maddox could feel the slarn hunter stir.
That started a contest the captain wasn’t sure Villars even knew he was part of. Holding himself perfectly still, Maddox strove to wake up, and he tensed his body.
I have to make my muscles work. Maddox knew he had to get up faster than the psycho lying on top of him did. Villars was a dangerous sadist. The professor must know that. So, why did Ludendorff keep the man with him?
Villars stirred, smacking his lips.
Maddox redoubled his efforts at concentration.
“What happened?” Villars muttered. “What—”
A waft of bad breath billowed into Maddox’s face, making him cough.
That caused Villars to stir with more effort. “Tricky bastard,” the hunter whispered. The man’s left hand dragged across the floor. The fingers didn’t hold anything yet. The hand shifted direction.