Dragon and Liberator

For a moment Draycos was silent, his background thoughts rushing past Jack's mind like the rapids of a mountain stream. We surrender, the K'da said at last. If all he wanted was our deaths, he could simply have removed all the Brummgas and suffocated us as he threatened without giving us a warning.

So if he doesn't want us dead, what does he want?

I don't know, Draycos admitted. But if we stay here, we'll surely die. Alive, even in Neverlin's hands, there's always hope.

Jack took a deep breath, eleven years' worth of Uncle Virgil's warnings and counsel flowing through his mind. Run away. Protect yourself. Don't stick your neck out for anyone. Run away.

Run away. . . .

But he couldn't run away. Not this time.

Okay, he said with a sigh. Let's go.

Even with Neverlin's promise, Jack half-expected them to be gunned down as soon as they emerged from the tween gap. Certainly there were enough armed Brummgas waiting to have made quick work of them.

But apparently for once Neverlin had been telling the truth. "Okay I'm here," Jack said, trying to sound as if stepping into a circle of guns was something he did every day.

"So we see," a tall human said as he pushed his way through the wall of glowering Brummgas. "Lieutenant Pickering, captain of the Foxwolf." His eyes flicked up and down Jack's form. "I trust your friend is with you?"

"I'm here," Draycos confirmed, lifting the top of his head from Jack's shoulder.

Pickering didn't take a step backward, but Jack had the feeling that he very much wanted to. "Yes, I see." He lifted a finger and beckoned.

And to Jack's surprise, Langston stepped into view. "Hello, Jack," the other said darkly. "Nice to actually see you this time."

"Hey, it's not my fault you can't walk and read at the same time," Jack countered, picking up instantly on the cue. Langston must have played Frost the same scenario he'd pretended to play for Jack, that he'd been too busy studying his notepad to focus on the pilot who came out of that KK-29 patrol ship. "Come on; let's get this over with."

Langston jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "This way."

They walked in silence to the docking bay. Brummgas lined the whole route, most of them fidgeting with their guns. Langston stepped to the side of the open hatchway and gestured Jack to go in.

Jack did so, and found himself in the KK-29 he'd borrowed from Chiggers back on Bentre. "I would have thought they have moved it by now," he commented.

"They did," Langston said, coming in and closing the hatch. "Frost had it brought back for the occasion. Come on—you might as well sit up front."

They headed forward to the cockpit. The ship was all powered up, Jack saw as he sat down in the copilot's seat. So were the weapons boards, he noted with interest. "A functional ship with functional weapons," he pointed out as Langston took the pilot's seat. "You'd think they wanted us to make a run for it."

"It does look that way, doesn't it?" Langston agreed. He checked his displays and hit the release control, and the patrol ship floated free. "Maybe they do. Maybe all this is just more of Frost's fine-weave rope."

"Could be," Jack conceded. "He's probably hoping we'll try something and he'll have an excuse to blast us to dust."

"I don't think so," Langston said as he eased in the drive, moving them away from the Foxwolf. "See those Djinn-90s over there?"

Jack peered out the canopy where the other was pointing. In the distance he could see three of the heavy fighters, drifting silently along. "Look like they're minding their own business, don't they?"

"That's the point—they are minding their own business," Langston said. "So is everyone else. If we made a break for it now, we'd be on ECHO before anyone could stop us."

Jack frowned, searching the sky. He didn't know nearly as much as Langston did about military ships and tactics, but he was willing to trust the other's judgment. "So what's the scam?" he asked. "They want some practice with the Death?"

"What Death?" Langston countered. "The only one left is on the Advocatus Diaboli, and it's way out of position to hit us back here."

"Then maybe we're booby-trapped," Jack suggested.

Langston shook his head. "I already ran a check on the air system and did a quick visual," he said. "There's nothing aboard they could use to gas us. And they sure aren't going to blow up one of their ships just to take us out. They need all of them they've got."

Jack chewed at the inside of his cheek. "Draycos?" he asked. "What do you think?"

"I agree with Sergeant Langston," the K'da said from his shoulder. "The entire setup is strange."

"So what do we do?"