Chaining the Lady (18 page)

He stood up again, moving in quick spurts, his gaze flicking about, his posture almost strutting. “And I hardly need to add, I would be extremely appreciative on the personal level. You are the finest Kirlian entity I have encountered, and you have a most remarkable mind considering your age and experience. I have prevailed upon the Dash Command of Andromeda to delay overt hostilities solely to enable me to obtain your cooperation; this is how important you are. My proposal of marriage between us is sincere. It can be arranged, with auras like ours.”

Again, Melody was horribly tempted. She would never again encounter an entity like Dash; she was certain of that. There were probably several higher male auras somewhere in the two galaxies, but he also had high intelligence and competence, and was not otherwise committed. She had waited all her life for a male like him. But if he were to learn her true age and status, he would find her a good deal less attractive. Only as Mintakans could they merge, and then only once.

On that slender, almost irrelevant thread her decision was made. She knew that in her heart she had betrayed her galaxy, but circumstance rather than personal strength enforced her loyalty. “No.”

Dash sighed. “I do this with extreme regret, but you are too dangerous to set free. Slammer–”

“Sir!” Skot cried.

Melody glanced at him. A weapon had appeared in one hand: a Solarian laser pistol.

Dash shook his head. “You cannot possess a genuine metallic weapon. There was no signal as you entered.”

“I entered parallel to the magnet; my weapon was masked by that.”

“Shrewd. But you cannot react faster than a magnet, and your weapon will not hurt Slammer.”

“True. But I can burn off your mouth before you can complete the order.”

What affected Melody most, even in this tense situation, was her realization that neither was bluffing. Dash really would order the magnet to kill, and Skot really would fire his weapon. Melody herself would not have had the nerve to do either, despite the stakes. As a conspirator, as a warrior, she was a washout; she understood what needed to be done, but lacked the gumption to
do
it. She felt weak, as though about to faint. This was not the first time she had reacted to news of a threat with foolish weakness, yet–

“Stand up!” Yael cried. “If
you
fail, we're all dead!”

Shamed for the moment, Melody stiffened her spine, and fought off her faintness.

Dash would not be balked. “In a moment the magnet will realize that you are threatening me. Then it will act anyway.”

“No. It is assigned to protect Yael of Dragon. I am not threatening her.”

But
Dash
was threatening her, Melody knew. How would Slammer react to that? Could she somehow get him to intervene on her side?

Dash nodded. “It seems I underestimated you, Skot of Kade. You were reserved as our lone nonhostage, in case Etamin made a surprise verification of aural identities before we were ready to act. It appears that was our mistake.”

“I don't get it,” Yael said. “Why doesn't the Captain just touch that button on his desk to call for help?”

The distraction of the question helped to firm Melody's wavering resolve. “Because if he makes one move toward the desk, he'll be shot. Al he can do is talk, and if he says the word 'Slammer' he'll be shot anyway.”

“Then why doesn't Skot just shoot him now and be done with it?”

“Because then we'd all be locked in this office with a murder on our hands and ten angry hostages outside. We have to deal with Dash without overt violence, somehow.”

”I'm glad you know what you're doing,” Yael said.

Of course Melody had no idea what she was doing. She had formulated the rationale of the tactical situation only when challenged to do so. What a mess she had gotten them all into! A professional agent would have found some better, safer way to deal with the crisis. Melody could only watch.

“Stand well clear of that desk,” Skot said. “Llume, roll to the desk and touch the door release. But first use the desk monitor to check the location of the hostages aboard this ship; they may already be waiting in ambush for us. We're going to eliminate every one of them, quickly.”

There, Melody realized, was a leader speaking. While she stood frozen in indecision and fear, Skot was acting with force and effect.

“Your effort is futile,” Dash said. “Even if you killed every one of us, you could not affect the hostages in power on the other ships of the fleet. If you messaged Imperial Outworld, you would accomplish nothing; the very resistance movement that sent Melody here has been routed out. No nucleus of loyalists remains on the planet. We have nullified them and the Society of Hosts.”

Oh,
no
, Melody thought. The Colonel of Ice Cream and Flotsam of Polaris, betrayed by what they had tried to do for her, for their galaxy.

Llume moved toward the desk. “Around the other side!” Skot cried, too late.

For as she passed between Skot and the Captain, Dash cried: “Slammer—revert!”

Skot fired, but Dash was already diving for his desk. He collided with Llume, bouncing off her resilient Polarian torso. She remained between him and Skot, balking that shot. Slammer shoved forward, hesitating, since Llume had not actually attacked the Captain.

The magnet was back under the direct command of the Captain. Slammer had never comprehended the intricacies of transfer and hostaging; he took his orders from the apparent master. Melody's efforts to tame him had been well conceived, but in vain.

“Yael of Dragon!” Dash screamed. “Slammer k–”

Skot's beam lanced into his mouth. A front tooth exploded with the heat, ruining the handsome face, and the Captain fell.

Slammer flew across the room, too fast to avoid. During the episode of romance and fatherhood the magnet had seemed friendly, and Melody had lost her initial fear of him. Now, abruptly, she remembered exactly how dangerous he was. The magnet was no pet!

Dash had done it! He had tried to kill her!

Slammer passed between Skot and Melody and smashed into the wall. The metal bulged under the impact, and one side tore partially free of the door.

Melody stood paralyzed. Now she understood references in the Tarot about “slow motion” effects in some species during severe stress. Mintakans did not experience this, but the human host certainly did. To see, to comprehend, to be unable to react.

Skot fired at the desk controls. Sparks splayed up as the beam cut through the delicate mechanism. Slammer hesitated again. Was he obliged to defend a
desk
?

“The magnet's confused!” Skot called. “There are magnetic effects of the short circuit on the desk, and he doesn't know what represents the most immediate threat. You girls get out while you can; I'll try to cover for you.”

Melody realized that they had already been saved by the magnet's confusion: Dash had been under attack by Skot, but had ordered Slammer to go after Melody. Slammer had thus split the difference between them, the compromise of imperatives, and so had hit neither and smashed instead into the wall. What awful power the thing possessed!

But the confusion would not last long. Had Dash been able to complete his order, naming the precise action, Slammer would have carried it through. Melody had been lucky—once. They had to flee. What that could gain she could not see, but so long as she was alive and free, there was a chance. Maybe she could hide in the crew section of the ship, smuggle out a warning to Etamin—no, that was no good. Well,
something.

Melody scrambled for the wall. Slammer jerked toward her, but Skot fired at the magnet, distracting it. A spot glowed on the surface of the globe. Those lasers were only light, but what a lot of heat that thin beam packed!

Then Dash groaned. He was not dead, but he was badly injured. Melody felt a kind of relief. Slammer moved over to his master.

Too bad the magnet had not been equipped to comprehend the truth. His real master had already been eliminated, supplanted by an inimical alien aura, possessed by a demon intellect. On the other hand, at least now Dash could not give Slammer a direct verbal order.

Melody put her fingers into the crack between the wall and door. She shook the door back and forth. Suddenly a catch gave way, and it swung open. She and Llume moved out.

There was no one in the hall. “Come on, Skot!” Melody cried.

“I have to cover your retreat!” he called back. “Move!”

Bold, suicidal, determined spacer! They moved. Melody feared that she would never see Skot of Kade again, but she had no choice.

Chapter 9:

God of Hosts

–so quadpoint tried to assume power–

*he received no concurrence*

–I would have been satisfied if he had then it would have been off my wings–

*why did you miss the council meeting?*

–ast, I was in pain of aura I went to the shrine of our got aposiopesis and prayed for insight–

*do you refer to an ancients' site?*

–do you call them that? aposiopesis means that ellipsis of communication that one is unable to present so it is with the ancients they have so much to inform us, yet they never quite convey it that entity who comprehends the content of aposiopesis shall be exalted–

*did you comprehend it?*

–I? you blaspheme! I comprehended nothing–

*then do you propose to yield power to quadpoint?*

–there may come a time when power shifts from sphere dash to sphere quadpoint, but that occasion is not yet–

*not as long as you control the major ancient sites, so that you are best able to worship aposiopesis*

–you are perceptive, ast!–

*yet we cannot withhold action hour much longer*

–no, not much longer but the dash command in segment etamin is about to secure for our use an aura capable of unlocking the key to aposiopesis
then
shall true victory be ours surely that is worth a small delay of schedule–

* * *

Melody ran and Llume rolled down the hall. “Where do we go?” Melody gasped. The human host was good for short bursts of power, but tired rapidly under sustained output.

“Where they least suspect,” Llume answered. “Let me carry you; this host has greater velocity.”

“Yes.”

Llume circled her tail about Melody's waist and lifted. The tail was amazingly supple and strong. She rolled down the hall at a horrifying rate. But this was good: They would soon be farther from the scene of action than the hostages would suspect. It was also painful: Melody's feet kept banging against the handholds set into the wall.

They were going toward the innership storage area, where the wooden barriers were. That would help, except that there was another magnet there. If
all
the magnets were on the trail...

But Llume drew into a separate room on the near side of the barrier. She set Melody down. “This is where metal for the magnets is kept,” Llume explained. “They do not require it, except when injured or growing, so this area is safe. There is a chute to the main feeding area, and from there are many channels to the outer ship. We can swim through—“ She broke off as her ball lifted from the deck.

Melody heard it too: the keening of a magnet traveling at high speed. The labyrinth of narrow passages made it hard to tell how close it was, but it was coming nearer. The sound sent a chill through her.

“Slammer is looking for us,” Melody whispered. “How I wish I had gotten him tamed!”

“I will divert him,” Llume said. “You are the most important; there is no other aura like yours. Go to the crew section, seek a communications unit. Somewhere there must be loyalists who have not been caught, or they would not need this fleet to threaten the planet.”

“Yes,” Melody agreed. She could think of no better course.

“Swim well!” Llume whispered against Melody's hand. Then she was off down the hall, her ball touching the wall above the handholds to make a noise to attract the attention of the pursuit.

“Swim well!” Melody echoed, tears in her human eyes. There was something especially touching about the words, suggestive as they were of Llume's origin in the deep waters of her home planet of Sphere Spica. That powerful aura, such a perfect match for Melody's own—why did the savagery have to be? They both knew the sacrifice Llume had made; her chances of survival were slender.

But if somehow they both survived, there would be a debt between them. When one entity saved the life of another...

Melody could not dawdle, however poignant her thoughts. To delay was to die. She went to the chute, then hesitated. This course was too simple, too obvious, and she had just thought of a better alternative. Across the wooden barrier, not far away, was the transfer unit. If she could get to it, she might transfer herself to an Outworld host without the hostages knowing, locate some powerful loyalist via a Tarot reading, and give warning directly.

But that could be a very dangerous alternative. In a room like this she could hide, at least for a while, and dodge. The magnet might be fast, but its mass prevented instant maneuvering, however it might appear at close range. Too many turns at speed, and it would tire; she had observed that in Beanball. All things, from civilizations down to amoebas, were subject to the limitations of energy. But in the halls, straightaways, she would be visible and vulnerable.

Unless there were a way to confuse the magnet. To make it look for her in the wrong place. Not by sacrificing more friends. Apart from the fact she was out of friends, having permitted two to throw away their lives for her. But by some mechanical means.

She looked at the cartons of metal. For the magnets, to build their bones. It had to be highly magnetizable stuff. The magnets perceived people by their auras; a low-aura person was little more than furniture. They obviously could not discern aural families, for then Slammer would have known the significance of the change in the Captain when he was taken over. (And why hadn't Melody herself realized what an actual strength of 175 meant, in a person listed at 150? The magnets were no stupider than she!) There must be a magnetic component to an aura, a trace overlap that the creatures could detect, that remained stable even when an alien aura of greater intensity took over.