Pham smashed the barrel up against the hull, safing it at the same time. The back flash was a surge of heat that crisped his eyebrows. “Blueshell! Get us down! Get us down!”
CHAPTER 39
“A bad understanding. She was lied to.”
Ravna tried to read something behind the voice. Steel’s Samnorsk was as creaky as ever, the tones childish and whiny. He sounded no different than before. But his story was stretched very thin by what had just happened. He was either a galaxy master of impudence—or his story was actually true.
“The human must have been hurt, then lied to by Woodcarver. This explains a lot, Ravna. Without her, Woodcarver could not attack. Without her, all may be safe.”
Pham’s voice came to Ravna on a private channel. “The girl was unconscious during part of the ambush, Rav. But she practically scratched my eyes out when I suggested she might be wrong about Steel and Woodcarver. And the pack with her is a lot more convincing than Steel.”
Ravna looked questioningly across the deck at Greenstalk. Pham didn’t know she was here. Tough. Greenstalk was an island of sanity amidst the madness—and she knew the OOB infinitely better than Ravna.
Steel spoke into her hesitation: “See now, nothing has changed, except for the better. One more human lives. How can you doubt us? Speak to Jefri; he understands. We have done the best for the children in…” a gobbling noise, and (another?) voice said, “coldsleep.”
“Certainly, we must speak to him again, Steel. He’s our best proof of your good intentions.”
“Okay. In a few minutes, Ravna. But see, he is also my good protection against treachery from you. I know how powerful you Visitors are. I… fear you. We need to—” gobbling consultation “— accommodate each other in our fears.”
“Um. We’ll work something out. Just let us speak to Jefri now.”
“Yes.”
Ravna switched channels. “What do you think, Pham?”
“There’s no question in my mind. This Johanna is not a naive kid like Jefri. We’ve always known Steel was a tough critter. We just had some other facts wrong. The landing site is in the middle of his territory. He’s the killer.” Pham’s voice became quieter, almost a whisper. “Hell of it is, this may not change anything. Steel does have the ship. I’ve got to get in there.”
“It will be another ambush.”
“… I know. But does it matter? If we can get me time with the Countermeasure, it could be—it will be— worth it.” What matter a suicide mission within a suicide mission?
“I’m not sure, Pham. If we give him everything, he’ll kill us before we ever get near the ship.”
“He’ll try. Look, just keep him talking. Maybe we can get a directional on his radio, blow the bastard away.” He did not sound optimistic.
Tyrathect didn’t take them back to the ship, or to their rooms. They descended stairs within the outer walls, part of Amdi first, then Jefri with the rest of Amdi, then the singleton from Tyrathect.
Amdi was still complaining. “I don’t understand, I don’t understand. We can help.”
Jefri: “I didn’t see any enemy cannons.”
The singleton was full of explanations, though it sounded even more preoccupied than usual. “I saw them from one of my other members, out in the valley. We’re pulling in all our soldiers. We must make a stand, or none of us will be alive to be rescued. For now, this is the best place for you to be.”
“How do you know?” said Jefri. “Can you talk to Steel right now?”
“Yes, one of me is still up there with him.”
“Well, tell him we have to help. We can talk better Samnorsk even than you.”
“I’ll tell him right now,” was the Cloak’s quick reply.
There were no more window slots cut in the walls. The only light came from wick torches set every ten meters along the tunnel. The air was cool and musty; wetness glistened on unquilted stone. The tiny doors were not of polished wood. Instead there were bars, and darkness beyond. Where are we going? Jefri was suddenly reminded of the dungeons in stories, the treachery that befell the Greater Two and the Countess of the Lake. Amdi didn’t seem to feel it. For all his mischievous nature, Puppies was basically trusting; he had always depended on Mr. Steel. But Jefri’s parents had never acted quite like this, even during the escape from High Lab. Mr. Steel suddenly seemed so different, as if he couldn’t be bothered pretending to be nice anymore. And Jefri had never really trusted the sullen Tyrathect; now that one was acting downright sneaky.
There had been no new threat on the hillside.
Fear and stubbornness and suspicion all came together: Jefri spun around, confronting the Cloak. “We’re not going any farther. This isn’t where we’re supposed to go. We want to talk to Ravna and Mr. Steel.” A sudden, liberating realization: “And you’re not big enough to stop us!”
The singleton backed up abruptly, then sat down. It lowered its head, blinked. “So you don’t trust me? You are right not to. There is no one here but yourselves that you can trust.” Its gaze drifted from Jefri to the ranks of Amdi, and then down the hall. “Steel doesn’t know I’ve brought you here.”
The confession was so quick, so easily made. Jefri swallowed hard. “You brought us down here to k-kill us.” All of Amdi was staring at him and Tyrathect, every eye wide with shock.
The singleton bobbed its head in part of a smile. “You think I am traitor? After all this time, some healthy suspicion. I am proud of you.” Mr. Tyrathect continued smoothly, “You are surrounded by traitors, Amdijefri. But I am not one of them. I am here to help you.”
“I know that.” Amdi reached forward to touch a muzzle to the singleton’s. “You’re no traitor. You’re the only person besides Jefri that I can touch. We’ve always wanted to like you, but—”
“Ah, but you should be suspicious. You will all die if you aren’t.” Tyrathect looked over the puppies, at the frowning Jefri. “Your sister is alive, Jefri. She’s out there now, and Steel has known all along. He killed your parents; he did almost everything he said Woodcarver did.” Amdi backed away, shaking himself in frightened negations. “You don’t believe me? That’s funny. Once upon a time I was such a good liar; I could talk the fish right into my mouths. But now, when only the truth will work, I can’t convince you… Listen:”
Suddenly it was Steel’s human-speaking voice that came from the singleton, Steel talking with Ravna about Johanna being alive, excusing the attack he had just ordered on her.
Johanna. Jefri rushed forward, fell on his knees before the Cloak. Almost without thought, he grabbed the singleton by the throat, shaking it. Teeth snapped at his hands as the other tried to shake free. Amdi rushed forward and pulled hard on his sleeves. After a moment Jefri let go. Centimeters away from his face, the singleton peered back at him, the torchlight glinting in its dark eyes. Amdi was saying: “Human voices are easy to fake —”
The fragment was disdainful. “Of course. And I’m not claiming that was a direct relay. What you heard is several minutes old. Here’s what Steel and I are planning this very second.” His Samnorsk abruptly stopped, and the hallway was filled with the gobbling chords of Pack talk. Even after a year, Jefri could only extract vague sense from the conversation. It did sound like two packs. One of them wanted the other to do something, bring Amdijefri—that chord was clear—up.
Amdiranifani went suddenly still, every member straining at the relayed sounds. “Stop it!” he shrilled. And the hallway was as quiet as a tomb. “Mr. Steel, oh Mr. Steel.” All of Amdi huddled against Jefri. “He’s talking about hurting you if Ravna doesn’t obey. He wants to kill the Visitors when they land.” The wide eyes were ringed with tears. “I don’t understand.”
Jefri jabbed a hand at the Cloak. “Maybe he’s faking that, too.”
“I don’t know. I could never fake two packs that well.” The tiny bodies shuddered against Jefri, and there was the sound of human weeping, the eerily familiar sound of a small child desolated… “What are we going to do, Jefri?”
But Jefri was silent, remembering and finally understanding, the first few minutes after Steel’s troops had rescued—captured?—him. Memories suppressed by later kindness crept out from the corners of his mind. Mom,
