There were, and Scarface showed them to him. 'But the least energy expended, the least noise and alarm to do the job, the best. Instead of polarizers, we might bury some stasis units outside, perhaps at the entrance to their meeting hut. Then we catch those kshat priests, and use the lying scum for target practice. '
'Good idea, and we may be able to improve on it. How many units here in the cave?'
That was the problem; two stasis units taken from cages were not enough. They needed more from the crypt, said Locklear.
'They destroyed that little airboat you left me, but I built a better one,' Scarface said with a flicker of humor.- from his ears.
'Sa, did I. Put a bunch of polarizers on it to push yourself around and ignored the sail, didn't you?' He saw Scarface's assent and winked.
'Two units might work if we trap the priests one by one,' Scarface hazarded. 'But they've been meddling in the crypt. We might have to fight our way in. And you…' he hesitated.
'And I have fought better Kzinti before, and here I stand,' Locklear said simply.
'That you do.' They gripped hands, and then went back to set up their raid on the crypt. The night was almost done.
When surrendering, Scarface had told Locklear nothing of his equipment cache. With two sidearms he could have made life interesting for a man; interesting and short. But his word had been his bond, and now Locklear was damned glad to have the stuff.
They left the females to guard the cave. Flitting low across the veldt toward the stasis crypt with Scarface at his scooter controls, they planned their tactics. I wonder why you didn't start shooting those priests the minute you were back on your feet,' Locklear said over the whistle of breeze in their faces.
'The kittens,' Scarface explained. I might kill one or two priests before the cowards hid and sent innocent fools to be shot, but they are perfectly capable of hanging a kitten in the village until I gave myself up. And I did not dare raid the crypt for stasis units without a warrior to back me up.'
'And i'll have to do,' Locklear grinned.
'You will,' Scarface grinned back; a typical Kzin grin, all business, no pleasure.
They settled the scooter near the ice-rimmed force wall and moved according to plan, making haste slowly to avoid the slightest sound, the huge Kzin's head swathed in a bandage of leaves that suggested a wound with,-with luck-hiding his identity for a few crucial seconds. Watching the Kzin warrior's muscular body slide among weeds and rocks, Locklear realized that Scarface was still not fully recovered from his ordeal. He made his move before he was ready because of me, and I'm not even a Kzin. Wish I thought I could match that kind of commitment, Locklear mused as he took his place in front of Scarface at the crypt entrance. His sidearm was in his hand. Scarface had sworn the priests had no idea what the weapon was and, with this kind of ploy, Locklear prayed he was right. Scarface gripped Locklear by the neck then, but gently, and they marched in together expecting to meet a guard just inside the entrance.
No guard. No sound at all-and then a distant hollow slam, as of a great box closing. They split up then' moving down each side corridor, returning to the main shaft silently, exploring side corridors again. After four of these forays, they knew that no one would be at their backs.
Locklear was peering into the fifth when, glancing back, he saw Scarface's gesture of caution. Scuffing steps down the side passage, a mumble in Kzin, then silence., Then Scarface resumed his hold on his friend's neck and, after one mutual glance of worry, shoved Locklear into the side passage. 'Ho, see the beast I captured,' Scarface called, his voice booming in the wide passage, prompting exclamations from two surprised Kzin males. Stasis cages lay in disarray, some open, some with transparent tops ripped off. One Kzin, with the breast scars and bandoliers of a priest, hopped off the cage he used as a seat, and placed a hand on the butt of his sharp w'tsai. The other bore scabs on his breast and wore no bandolier. He had been tinkering with the innards of a small stasis cage, but whirled, jaw agape.
'It must have escaped after we left, yesterday,' said the priest, looking at the 'captive,' then with fresh curiosity at Scarface. 'And who are-” At that instant, Locklear saw what levitated, spinning, inside one of the medium-sized cages; spinning almost too fast to identify. But Locklear knew what it had to be, and while the priest was staring hard at Scarface, the little man lost control.
His cry was in Interworld, not Kzin: 'You filthy bastard!” Before the priest could react, a roundhouse right with the massive barrel of a Kzin pistol took away both upper and lower incisors from the left side of his mouth. Caught this suddenly, even a two hundred kilo Kzin could be sent reeling from the blow, and as the priest reeled to his right, Locklear kicked hard at his backside.
Scarface clubbed at the second Kzin, the corridor ringing with snarls and zaps of warrior rage. Locklear did not even notice, leaping on the back of the fallen priest, hacking with his gunbarrel until the w'tsai flew from a smashed hand, kicking down with all his might against the back of the priest's head. The priest, at least twice Locklear's bulk, had lived a life much too soft, for far too long. He rolled over, eyes wide not in fear but in anger at this outrage from a puny beast. It is barely possible that fear might have worked.
The priest caught Locklear's boot in a mouthful of broken teeth, not seeing the sidearm as it swung at his temple. The thump was like an iron bar against a melon, the priest falling limp as suddenly as if some switch had been thrown.
Sobbing, Locklear dropped the pistol, grabbed handfuls of ear on each side, and pounded the priest's head against cruel obsidian until he felt a heavy grip on his shoulder.
'He is dead, Locklear. Save your strength,' Scarface advised. As Locklear recovered his weapon and stumbled to his feet, he was shaking uncontrollably. 'You must hate our kind more than I thought,' Scarface added, studying Locklear oddly.
'He wasn't your kind. I would kill a man for the same crime,' Locklear said in fury, glaring at the second Kzin who squatted, bloody-faced, in a corner holding a forearm with an extra elbow in it. Then Locklear rushed to open the cage the priest had been watching.
The top levered back, and its occupant sank to the cage floor without moving. Scarface screamed his rage, turning toward the injured captive. 'You experiment on tiny kittens? Shall we do the same to you now?' Locklear, his tears flowing freely, lifted the tiny Kzin kitten-a male-in hands that were tender, holding it to his breast. “It's breathing,' he said. 'A miracle, after getting the centrifuge treatment in a cage meant for something far bigger.'
'Before I kill you, do something honorable,' Scarface said to the wounded one. 'Tell me where the other kitten is.'
The captive pointed toward the end of the passage. I am only an acolyte,' he muttered. I did not enjoy following orders.'
Locklear sped along the cages and, at last, found Boot's female kitten revolving slowly in a cage of the proper size. He realized from the prominence of the tiny ribs that the kitten would cry for milk when it waked. If it waked. 'Is she still alive?'
'Yes,' the acolyte called back. I am glad this happened. I can die with a less-troubled conscience.'
After a hurried agreement and some rough questioning, they gave the acolyte a choice. He climbed into a cage hidden behind others at the end of another corridor and was soon revolving in stasis. The kittens went into one small cage. Working feverishly against the time when another enemy might walk into the crypt, they disassembled several more stasis cages and toted the working parts to the scooter, then added the kitten cage and, barely, levitated the scooter with its heavy load.
An hour later, Scarface bore the precious cage into the cave and Locklear, following with an armload of parts, heard the anguish of Boots. 'They'll hear you from a hundred meters,' he cautioned as Boots gathered the mewing, emaciated kittens in her arms.
They feared at first that her milk would no longer flow but presently, from where Boots had crept into the darkness, Kit returned. 'They are suckling. Do not expect her to be much help from now on,' Kit said. Scarface checked the magazine of his sidearm. 'One priest has paid. There is no reason why I cannot extract full payment from the others now,' he said.
'Yes, there is,' Locklear replied, his fingers flying with hand tools from the cache. 'Before you can get’em all, they'll send devout fools to be killed while they escape. You said so yourself. Scarface, I don't want innocent Kzin blood on my hands! But after my old promise to Boots, I saw what that maniac was doing and-let's just say my honor was at stake.' He knew that any modern Kzin commander would understand that. Setting down the wiring
