Shadowkill

##

Miralys watched tensely as the Hannys’ lander touched down, collected Azram and Kinefray, zipped up, and leapt off for the circling disk of landers.

As soon as Hannys was in place, the landers swirled up in a grand helix, reached the transports, and were swallowed by them.

The transports went arcing onward, going deeper into the dark.

Mimishay

Savant 4: (Answering the com) The Grand Chom is elsewhere at the moment. I speak for the Council. What is the problem?

Tinggal: Problem? I’ll tell you the problem. We’ve got a fleet of Dyslaera hanging over us. Someone talked. They know about the subjects you passed to us.

Savant 4: Fleet?

Tinggal: (speaking with a growing impatience) Three armed transports and I didn’t bother to count the landers. Armed! Better than a lot of governments. Took out our defenses before they bothered to say a word. Knew just where to hit, too. Someone talked. Yes, someone talked. Burned down four suites, killed everyone inside and what we’re going to tell their families I don’t know.

Savant 4: And?

Tinggal: (with obvious satisfaction) Better look to your own defenses. The Toerfeles has given us ten minutes to produce her kin and turn them over. We’ll do that, we’ve got no choice. Which means less than half an hour from now she’s on her way to you.

Savant 4: Ward Master, I want that Dyslaera brought to the Question Chamber. (His voice took on a shrill note despite the distorter he was wearing.) I want him there so fast the air smokes around him. You hear?

Ward Master: Yes, Savant. Anything special you want, tools, personnel, whatever?

Savant 4: Prepare for full hostile Probe.

Ward Master: The Chom…

Savant 4: The Chom isn’t here, he’s not going to be here any time soon. This is an emergency, fool, the Dyslaera are on their way here now.

Ward Master: Should I order a full alert? You have to authorize it.

Savant 4: Do it. Don’t just stand around asking stupid questions. Do it.

Rohant

“On your feet!” The wardbrother was rattling the door-grill, shrieking the order; he sounded terrified, as if he were apt to do something terminal if given half an excuse. And he was alone.

Rohant rolled off the cot and stood beside it, hands clasped behind him, head, down. They hadn’t come for him before like this, in the middle of the night, or sent a singleton guard after him; he stared at the floor and wondered what was going on.

After a delay that drove the young ward twitchy, the grill slid open and the watchandroid came in.

Rohant snatched a look at it. Yes… good… not just hesitations, the warning light by its left sound receptor was pulsing red. This wasn’t his usual escort, no scratch; it was older, too. They were scraping bottom with this one. Why? No matter. He pressed his arm against his body, felt the stunrod in the hem of his shirt. Yes. If they took him past the Novice quarters, this was it, good-bye Mimishay.

When the watchandroid was in position behind Rohant, the guard yelped, “Out, blitsor. You know the drill. Move it. Hup hup.