King's Sacrifice (56 page)

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Authors: Margaret Weis

BOOK: King's Sacrifice
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"Apparently
they don't want a fight either. Not much chance we'll have to use
that button now," said Xris, lighting the twist with a flick of
his hand. "They're hooked."

"There
never was much doubt. They didn't dare risk losing a catch like this.
They've got us and they know it. What harm in stringing us along?"

"I wonder,
though," said Xris, glancing at her out of the corner of his
eye, his good eye, the twist's smoke curling from his hps, "if
you'd have done it."

"What do
you think?" Maigrey retorted coldly.

Xris took the
twist from his mouth, examined it. "I think you're disappointed
you didn't have to."

Behind her,
Maigrey heard a gurgling sound—Sparafucile's version of a
chuckle. Maigrey ignored the assassin, ignored the cyborg, ignored
the jab of conscience that reminded her of her thoughts an instant
back there on the bridge. The fleeting, wistful realization that all
her troubles could end in a flash. A very bright flash.

The Corasian
delegation arrived aboard a shuttlecraft sent from the mother ship.
She and Xris and Sparafucile stood waiting for the docking bay doors
to boom shut, the breathable atmosphere and pressure inside the
docking bay to return to normal conditions. She was nervous, tense,
ill at ease. She'd never spoken to a Corasian before, previous
contact having been limited to killing them before they had a chance
to kill her. She knew something of how their minds worked; it had
been a dictum of Sagan's—know your enemy. She knew, for
example, that those boarding her ship would be soldiers, nothing less
. . . nothing more.

The Corasian
collective mind, or "hive" as humans tended to think of it,
divided its "people" into various categories: soldiers,
sailors, tinkers, spies, as one of her sociology instructors had put
it. Each Corasian operated within boundaries proscribed by the
collective mind, not dreaming—for they had no dreams—of
doing anything else. This made for a highly efficient and orderly
society that did not, however, deal well with new and unforeseen
situations.

"Stay
calm," she repeated to herself. "Stay calm." But her
fingers clenched tightly over the hilt of the bloodsword.

Xris jerked the
twist from his mouth with a sudden movement that startled Maigrey and
sent a ripple of tense, involuntary reaction through the half-breed,
caused his gunhand to twitch.

"Don't do
that!" Maigrey snapped, beneath her breath, though there was
absolutely no possibility of anyone hearing them.

The shuttlecraft
had touched down, was making itself secure. The docking bay doors
shivered and began to shut.

Xris tossed the
twist to the deck, ground it beneath his heel.

"You ever
seen how those things kill people, sister?"

"Yes,"
said Maigrey, "and I don't think this is the time to discuss—"
but Xris wasn't listening.

"I saw them
kill Chico. And I couldn't do anything but stand there and watch. Our
weapons were useless. Hell, how long had it been since anyone in the
galaxy had seen one of these things?

"We kept
firing at the damn things, but it didn't stop them. Finally, we ran
out of juice. The lasguns were almost drained. Our one hope was to
reach our spaceplanes, turn the lascannons on 'em. We almost made it.
Then Chico was hit. He went down. I was going back for him. You know
what happened?"

Xris looked at
her. Maigrey shook her head, silently.

"My battery
went dead. Half my body locked up solid. I couldn't move. Hell, it
was all I could do to stand. The arm, the leg, like carrying lead
weights. The Corasians were right behind Chico. When he saw me seize
up, saw the lights go out, he knew what'd happened. He grinned at me,
raised himself up on one arm, and said, 'Next time, before we go out,
get a recharge!' And then they had him."

Maigrey let him
talk. The shuttle's hatch opened, the fiery red bodies, encased in
their robot shells, started to trundle down the ramp.

"They broke
out of those damn shells of theirs, and it was like molten lava,
flowing over the ground, only fast. Real fast. They started at his
feet. I could smell the leather of his boots burn and then the flesh
... He began to scream. They'd been fast, getting to him, but now
they took their time . . ."

Xris took a
twist from his pocket, started to put it in his mouth, looked at it,
stuffed it back in his shirt again.

"I shot
him. It was all I could do for him. It drained the gun, and I threw
it at them. Worthless piece of junk. About like me. By that time,
Harry and Britt had come back for me, dragged me on board the plane,
plugged me in." His voice was bitter. "Recharged me."

Maigrey frowned,
glanced at him in concern. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Meaning am
I going to do anything stupid?" Xris shook his head, smiled a
half smile, tight-lipped, grim. "I'll stay cool. I just wanted
to say, sister, in case I don't get the chance, thanks for bringing
me along."

Maigrey didn't
find this particularly reassuring but it was too late to do anything
now. Xris wasn't the type to go on some wild, vengeance-driven
rampage. But Maigrey, watching the Corasians come aboard, seeing the
ameboid, fiery red bodies encased in their steelglass robot shells
roll toward her, was forced to fight down her own feelings of
revulsion, horror, fear; forced to battle the sudden, instinctive,
panicked urge to strike out at them before they could destroy her.
And she judged by the rigid, carefully impassive expression on Xris's
face that he was fighting the same inner battle.

She glanced at
Sparafucile, saw him staring at the Corasians, the malformed face
thoughtful.

"These
things have made my lord captive?" asked Sparafucile, voice low.
The fiery red bodies gleamed brightly in the reptilelike eyes.

"Along with
Abdiel, yes," answered Maigrey, surprised at the question,
wondering uneasily what lay beneath it.

But the
half-breed only nodded silently, impassively.

Whatever it was,
she couldn't worry about it now. She walked forward to greet the
enemy.

The Corasians
trundled through the ship, inspecting the "cargo," paying
at least as much attention to the technology aboard as to the living
flesh and blood. The luxury liner offered little in the way of
technological breakthroughs and Maigrey gathered—from their
silence—that the soldiers were not impressed.

The human cargo
passed inspection. Sparafucile opened the doors to all the cabins,
permitting the Corasians to peer inside. Since they had no eyes,
Maigrey wasn't certain what they saw, but presumably they were able
to sense the life-forms slumbering peacefully, without any notion of
the danger lurking near. What would it be like for these poor
wretches, if they woke to find themselves in the Corasian version of
a meat locker?

Maigrey pushed
the thought from her mind. She had her own worries. The Corasians
were quite capable of offering to pay her off, transfer the human
cargo to their own ship, and order her out of the galaxy. And that
was supposing that they kept their part of the bargain. They were
also quite capable of taking her and her people prisoner. Agis could
be trusted to put a swift end to their captivity, however.

Maigrey had
counted on Corasians wanting the ship, for spare parts, if nothing
else. She was trying desperately to think up some tempting he to tell
them about the nuclear reactors, anything to get them to permit her
to take the liner farther into the galaxy's interior, when the
Corasians and their hosts entered the gambling casino.

"What is
this machine?" one of the Corasians demanded in its squeaky,
simulated voice.

Preoccupied,
Maigrey barely glanced at it. "A roulette wheel."

"What is
its function?"

Maigrey, whose
knowledge of games began with chess and ended with bridge, looked at
Xris. The cyborg coolly explained the nature of the game, the
operation of the computer-controlled wheel, and gave the soldiers a
demonstration.

The concept of
gambling had, apparently, never occurred to the collective mind. Xris
spent the next hour explaining the workings of every machine in the
casino to the fascinated Corasians. Maigrey breathed easier, began to
think they might pull this off, after all.

"Do we have
a deal?" she asked, the tour of inspection complete.

They were on the
engineering deck, heading for the docking bay and the Corasian
shuttlecraft. "We'll transport the cargo and the liner into the
interior for you—"

"That won't
be necessary," said the soldier, its voice flat, mechanical.
"You will turn the ship and the cargo over to us now. You have
your spaceplanes. You will leave in those. We will escort you safely
to the perimeter."

Maigrey and Xris
exchanged glances over the robotic heads of the Corasians. This was
precisely what they didn't want.

"Very
well," said Maigrey slowly, considering. "You will give us
our money now."

The Corasians,
it seemed, had to contact the collective brain, for they were all
silent long moments, the lights on their robot casings flickering and
fading as they withdrew their thoughts from their bodies' functions.
The lights winked back brightly.

"That is
not possible," replied the soldier. "We have nothing of
what you term 'money' on board our mother ship. The sum you require
will be credited to your account in whichever currency of your galaxy
you find preferable."

It would be
interesting, Maigrey thought, to know just how they come by that
money.

"And what
happens if payment isn't made? We fly back and sue you?"

"We do not
understand—"

"That's
damn obvious!" Maigrey folded her arms across her chest. "Look,
we're out a lot of cash for this operation. We want payment and we
want it before we go. If you can't give us cash, then give us
permission to take our cargo into the interior, find someone who
can."

The Corasian
again consulted the collective mind. Maigrey held her breath.

"What is
that?" the soldier said suddenly, robotic head swiveling.
"Life-form readings."

"What's
that got to do—"

The soldier's
head pivoted toward the captain's berth. "There are other
life-forms aboard this ship which you have not shown us."

"It's only
the ship's captain and her guard. We had to take her prisoner, of
course. She's drugged. Now what about our money? Do we have a deal
or—?"

"We would
like to see these life-forms."

Maigrey eyed the
Corasians, tried to determine if this was a trick, stalling for time.
Or were they merely exerting their authority? There was really no
good reason why the Corasians shouldn't see the captain and Brother
Daniel. Just as there was no good reason why they should. Maigrey
didn't like it.

"Xris, the
door," she ordered.

The cyborg did
as commanded, opening the door—with his good hand, Maigrey
noted. Small beeps and tiny bright flashes indicated he was giving
his weapons hand a system check.

Maigrey entered,
cast a swift warning glance at Brother Daniel. The priest rose to his
feet, took an involuntary step nearer the bed. Captain Corbett was
groggily alert, fear and outrage successfully combating the effects
of the drug.

"Hullo,
bitch," Tomi slurred. "What's the occasion?"

Maigrey took her
place at the foot of the bed, turned to face the Corasian that rolled
rapidly into the room. She heard the captain suck in a shocked,
frightened breath, heard Brother Daniel murmur something reassuring.

I wish someone
would say something reassuring to me, Maigrey thought bitterly and
irrationally. She was tense, nervous. The soldier was up to something
and she had no idea what.

Sparafucile
glided silently in after Maigrey, stood near the bathroom opposite
the bed. Xris took his place by the door, lounging against it, but
actually blocking, with his body, the seven other Corasian soldiers
who remained standing in the corridor. The green and yellow lights on
his weapons arm had all shifted color to red.

The Corasian
soldier trundled near the foot of the bed.

"We will
have this one," it said.

The lights in
the robot head winked off, the robotic arms froze, fixed and locked
in position. The soldier's steelglass case cracked wide open, down
the front. The flaming red ameboid body oozed out and slid to the
floor. Moving slowly and deliberately, it crawled across the room
toward the bed.

Tomi dragged
herself backward, scrabbling with her elbows and pushing with her
legs. "Take these things off me, Daniel!" she gasped.
"Don't let me die like this! Help me, Daniel! Please, help me."

The priest was
staring in shock at the Corasian, moving relentlessly forward. The
body was like a horrible blob of fire that pulsed and breathed with
intelligent, terrible life.

"Daniel!
Take these off—"

The priest
turned toward her.

Maigrey made a
swift gesture. Sparafucile left his post, glided round the bed to the
far side. He clapped one hand over Tomi's mouth, held a knife to her
throat with the other.

The captain
ceased to struggle. Her body froze, terror-filled eyes on the
Corasian that was drawing closer with every breath.

Brother Daniel's
motion was arrested by the warning in the half-breed's eyes. "Back
away from bed!" the half-breed mouthed.

Tomi moaned in
her throat, the black eyes shifted for an instant from the Corasian
to the priest. She moaned again, her gaze pleading, desperate.

Sparafucile
clasped his hand tighter, the flashing blade rested on the dark brown
skin of the woman's neck.

"Back
away!" he snarled silently. "Trust lady!"

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