the wisdom I offer.'
The shift in Spider's mood, from amusement to something that smelled of anger, made Sam think the elves had the right idea about Spider. 'As do I.'
The scent of anger faded and was replaced by a sweeter, almost sexual odor. 'Do not be hasty, Samuel Verner Twist. I am the holder of secrets and the crafter of power. I know many things that are mysteries to others. Many secrets are mine and mine alone. I share my secrets with a chosen few.' Sam's head was getting light. 'For what price?' 'Small services.'
Rallying his resolve he said, 'I'm not interested. I already have a patron in this place, and he doesn't like you.'
Spider dismissed his objection with the wave of a leg. 'Jealousy only. Dog is young and I am old, older than your kind. And age brings wisdom, Samuel Verner Twist. Such wisdom could be yours to call upon. You could know secrets of many things. Much would be within your power. For example, your sister need not remain as she is.'
Sam felt the truth behind Spider's words, but sensed a lie as well. Both truth and lie were hidden in Spider's honeyed promises, but which was which? His head was spinning, and he couldn't sort out what he felt. The deep ache that was his hope to save Janice made him want to believe Spider. Was it only her frightful appearance that made him distrust her? Janice, too, appeared scary now, but he knew that her goodness still lived within. More than anything, he wanted to bring that goodness out. 'That's what the Ghost Dance is for.'
'Now you attempt to deceive me,' Spider chided gently. 'Your dance raises power to change many things, but I know that you will focus it to do other things. You are not raising the power of the earth to help your sister. You have not the knowledge to apply the change magic to her.' Sam feared she was right. 'And you do?' 'I know many secrets of metamorphosis. I can teach you, if you let me.'
He wanted to know, needed to know. For Janice's sake. 'What do you want?'
'Channel to me this power you raise, and she shall be changed. It is but a small matter for me to alter the intent. Let me guide you.'
Sam closed his eyes; there was too much input. He needed to think. Spider said that Janice would be restored. It was what he had been seeking ever since he had learned it might be possible. All he had to do was let Spider take the reigns of the power that was building in the Dance. It would not be hard.
A brush of fur caressed his cheek. He thought of Inu, but the smell was wrong. He opened his eyes and saw the bristled surface of Spider's leg. Above him, another limb cradled a strand of silky white stuff. Sam turned and ran.
Spider's laugh was mocking. 'Run,' she taunted, 'but you can never get away from the truth.'
Near and far, the dancers moved in rhythm. Faster, ever faster, they flashed through the steps, raising the power that surged through Sam.
He felt the dancers. Myriad images flashed through his head as though he could see everything the dancers saw. Castle towers. Trees. Curving, cramped walls. The sprouting tree. Dark tunnels. Shamans moving in a circle. The stone of earth, alive and rippling. Dog.
Dog danced at Sam's side.
'Contact, bearing forty-five relative,' Rabo called out.
''Moving?' Ghost asked.
'Negative. Location matches prediction near enough. I think it's Wichita. '
'Take us in closer,' Tsung ordered.
Janice sat back, hugging her knees to her chest. It was a child's pose, but it helped her keep a grip on herself. She needed all the help she could get. Here in the confines of the submersible the scent of meat was strong, and hunger gnawed at her continuously. She was glad something would be happening soon. She had thought they would never find the lost submarine among the ridges of the shelf.
Rabo's voice came again on the speaker. 'I think we may have a problem.'' 'What's the problem?' Ghost asked. 'Can't you dock?' Tsung said. 'Drek! Knew it,' Kham snapped. 'We're wasting our time.'
Rabo's detached voice continued, as though none of them had spoken. 'Density scans are consistent with air in the hull.'
'What's unusual about that?' Tsung asked testily. 'Hull down this long should have leaked out any air she held when she went down. Somebody's repressur-ized her.''
'Any other craft around?' Ghost asked. 'None showing, but I've got sounds on sonar and they're coming from the Wichita. There's somebody on board.''
'Mechanical or organic sounds?' Ghost asked. 'You ain't running a sim chip on de side, Rabo?' Kham growled.
'Ain't done that since the Fuchi run. I learned my lesson. This is real, Kham. I don't know what the noise is, or what's making it, but it's real.' There was silence for a few moments. 'They'll know we're coming,' Tsung said to Ghost. Ghost nodded. 'Whoever they are.' 'Does it matter?' asked Fast Stag, the other norm. 'It matters,' Tsung said. 'Minimal opposition was the spec. Price goes up if there's serious trouble.'
'What about an astral scout, then?' Fast Stag asked, looking at Tsung.
'Already tried. There's a school of hexfish out there that picked me up as soon as I poked my head through the Searaven's hull. Those things hunt astrally as well as mundanely, and they're worse than piranha. Maybe you'd like to swim across?'
While Fast Stag shook his head in an emphatic 'no,' Ghost said, 'We'll have to dock without a re-con then.'
'Rabo!' Kham barked. 'Any way ya can slide us in quiet?'
'Negative,' the rigger replied. 'They're not using any active probes, but if they Ve got any of the Wich-ita's passive gear going, they'll hear us coming. No way to avoid it. Probably won't know what we are, though. The sub's databanks won't have specs for a submersible like the Searaven. They might not know we can dock.''
'And can we dock?' Tsung asked. 'Yeah. Didn't I tell you? The Wichita's aspect is almost perfect. There's a little fibrous debris around the forward hatch, but the approach is clear.' 'Let's get it over with,' Janice said. The runners ignored her.
'They'll hear the docking just through transmission of the vibrations,' Tsung said. 'It won't be a surprise.'
'Surprise is a tool, not an end in itself,' Ghost observed. 'We must neutralize the bombs. If those aboard the Wichita belong to the enemy, speed is now vital.'
Ghost's two tribesmen nodded their agreement. John Parker, the other ork, looked to Kham for his lead. Kham looked to Tsung. No one bothered to ask Janice for her opinion.
'If we're going to party, we'd better get on with it,' Tsung said. 'Whoever's in the Wichita didn't get down here without help, and we don't want their taxi dropping in on us. This run's too straight-line as it is; weVe got no freedom to maneuver. I don't want anybody sitting on our line of retreat.'
Ghost gave the mage a sharp nod. 'Rabo, take us in.'
'Won't be a surprise,' the rigger said. 'We have no choice,' Ghost told him. The docking approach went smoothly. The Searaven settled forward of the sail at the one hatch capable of being opened from the outside. The taxi shuddered slightly when her connection collar contacted the hull of the Wichita. As soon as Rabo reported a full lock and transmission of the unlocking codes, Kham opened the internal hatch and crammed his bulk into the nar row docking passageway. Parker stood at the edge holding Kham's automatic rifle, ready to hand it down to his boss as soon as he cleared the way. Janice could hear Kham grunting with the eifort of freeing the emergency hatch releases on the Wichita.
The ork's shoulders bulked back into view briefly as he swung the Wichita's hatch open. A strange, musky odor drifted up from the submarine, overpowering the briny smell of the water in the docking tube. Kham dropped out of sight almost immediately. Parker called a warning and dropped the rifle down the hole. Then he followed it down. Ghost was next through, then Sally and the other two Indians. No one called for Janice to follow, but she did. She didn't want to be alone in the echoing hollow of the Seamven's passenger compartment.
The climb through the docking attachment and the Wichita's lock was short but intensely uncomfortable. The designers had never expected anyone of her size to use the space; she scraped off fur and skin on every projection. The wounds itched from the salt water coating all the surfaces around her, but they would heal soon enough. It was more the closeness and the damp that bothered her.
