The Icarus Hunt

CHAPTER 20

IT WAS, ON stunned reflection, about the last sight I would have expected tosee. The last person in the Spiral I would have thought would be striding with such casual arrogance into a Patth den. I opened my mouth to saysomething—anything—but he beat me to the punch. "I see you've got him," hesaid to Nask. "About time."

"Yes, I have," Nask said, considerably less taken aback by Nicabar'sappearancethan I was. "And you are...?" he added as Nicabar crossed the room toward him.

"What do you mean, who am I?" Nicabar countered scornfully. "Weren't youwatching when Brosh held my ID up to the monitor?"

"Only the Director General's seal was clear," Nask said. "Not the number orrank designation."

With a supremely restrained sigh, Nicabar pulled an ID folder out of his innerpocket and dropped it on the desk. "Fine. Help yourself."

Nask did. For nearly half a minute he studied the folder, while the rest of ussat or stood where we were in silence. Nicabar sent his gaze around the room, pausing briefly and measuringly on each of the Iykams in turn, sent me a briefand totally impassive glance, then looked back at Nask.

Finally, almost reluctantly I thought, the Patth closed the folder and laid itback down on the table in front of him. "Satisfied?" Nicabar asked.

"Quite satisfied, Expediter," Nask said, his voice almost sullen.

"Good," Nicabar said, holding out his hand. "Then you can return the favor.

Brosh tells me you're the ambassador to Palmary. Unless you want to trytellingme this is an embassy annex, I'd like to see some proof of that."

"Of course this isn't the embassy," Nask said stiffly, reaching into his robeand pulling out his own ID folder. "I chose this place precisely because Ididn't want the encounter taking place on official Patthaaunutth soil."

"So where exactly are we?" I asked.

Nask glanced at me but didn't answer. Nicabar, studying Nask's ID, didn't evenbother to look at me. I looked around at the Iykams, but none of them seemedinterested in talking to me, either. After a moment, Nicabar closed Nask's IDand dropped it onto the desk beside his own. "Fine," he said. "Any progress sofar?"

"We have him," Nask said, gesturing toward me. "That's a start." He clearedhis throat. "You'll forgive me if I find myself surprised by your unexpectedarrival, Expediter. I was not informed of your presence on Palmary."

"You'll be even more surprised when I tell you the name of the ship I came inon," Nicabar said dryly. "A little independent freighter by the name ofIcarus."

It was as if all three Patth had simultaneously grabbed hold of the samehigh-voltage wire. "What?" Enig said, the sound coming out more as a gasp thana legitimate word. "The Icarus?"

"What, don't you read your own government's hot-sheets?" Nicabar sniffed. "Mypicture ought to be plastered all over the embassy identifying me as one ofthe Icarus's crewers."

"There have been no such pictures," Nask said. "We have only now begun topiecetogether the profile of the Icarus's crew from sifting through the variousreports, and there are no pictures or sketches as yet."

Nicabar grunted. "Sloppy."

"We are doing the best we can with what we have," Nask insisted, his voicestill civil but clearly showing some strain. "It was mere blind luck that one of Enig's defenders spotted McKell heading for that pharmacy and was able to seethrough his disguise."

"Enig's defenders?" Nicabar echoed, looking over at Enig.

"Yes," Nask said. "Enig and Brosh are the pilot and copilot of the freighterConsiderate."

"Civilians?" Nicabar demanded, his eyes blazing. "You brought civilians intothis?"

"I had no choice," Nask snapped back. "I couldn't involve my staff for thesame reason I didn't take McKell to the embassy. Besides, Brosh and Enig are nolonger precisely civilians. Their ship happens to be the only Patthaaunutthvessel currently on the planet, and once we have the Icarus we'll need someonewho can fly it back to Aauth. I've therefore commandeered both of them intoofficial service."

"I see," Nicabar said, glancing at me. "You know where the ship is, then?"

"Not yet," Nask had to admit. "I was just beginning negotiations when youarrived." He sent me a rather disgusted look. "Now, I presume, the question ismoot."

"Not quite," Nicabar said. "The rest of the crew know he's missing and are onthe alert. We have to be careful or we'll risk damaging the artifact."

"That would just be too bad, wouldn't it," I murmured.

Nicabar regarded me as if I were something he'd found on the bottom of hisshoe.

"Who are all of these?" he asked, waving at the assembled Iykams. "Moremerchant-ship conscripts?"

"They're my ship's personal defenders, Expediter," Brosh said, bristlingnoticeably at what he obviously took to be a slight. "They're more than equalto whatever task you require of them."

"I suppose we'll find that out, won't we?" Nicabar said, leaving the desk andmoving through the gathered Iykams, looking at each in turn with the piercingglance of military inspection officers everywhere. "Do I also assume you havecloaks of invisibility for all of them?"

"What?" Brosh asked, clearly startled. "Cloaks of what?"

"That's the only way they're going to get close enough to the Icarus to usethese," Nicabar said, lifting the nearest Iykam's gun hand and tapping thecorona weapon.

"Yes, I see," Nask said with a nod. "A good point. Brosh, do any of thedefenders standing guard outside have plasmics with them?"

"Some of them, yes," Brosh said, glaring from under his hood at Nicabar.

Apparently, he wasn't used to dealing with top-ranking Patth agents. Hecertainly didn't seem to care much for their style. "I'll call them and ask."

"No—no phones," Nicabar said as Brosh reached beneath his robe. "We don't wantanything going through the phone system that could be backtracked later. Youthree"—he jabbed a finger at a clump of Iykams—"go to the others and collectall their plasmics from them."

"Wait a minute," Brosh protested, pointing at me. "You can't just send themaway. What about him?"

"What, it takes more than five of your highly competent defenders to guard asingle manacled prisoner?" Nicabar countered scornfully.

"He has a point, Expediter," Nask put in. "McKell is a highly dangerous human, and has slipped out of several other traps. Enig can go check on the weapons."

"I don't want you three going outside this room any more than you have to,"

Nicabar said in a voice of strained patience. "You shouldn't even be in thispart of town, let alone wandering around loose."

"It's the Grand Feast," Nask pointed out tartly. "All races mix freely togetherfor that. But if you insist." He nodded to the three Iykams Nicabar had markedout. "Carry out your orders."

"And make sure you bring back one for me," Nicabar added as the three headedto the door.

"You're not armed, Expediter?" Nask asked as the Iykams left the room, closingthe door behind them.

"You know I'm not," Nicabar said. "I presume you were watching as Enig and hisdefenders checked me for weapons outside."

"My question was more along the lines of why you didn't have a weapon at all,"

Nask said. "I was under the impression Expediters were routinely armed."

"Most Expediters don't have to live aboard a ship the size of the Icarus withpeople like McKell poking their noses into everything," Nicabar reminded him.

"He'd have fingered me long ago if I'd brought a gun aboard."

"You had us fooled, all right," I growled, trying not to sound too bitter.

"Especially that little speech you made back in the engine room. That was anice touch."

He lifted his eyebrows mockingly. "I don't know why," he said. "I thought Imade it pretty clear that I thought the Patthaaunutth were being unfairly picked onjust because they happened to be more technically innovative than the rest ofus. You must not have been listening very well."

"I guess not," I murmured, a sudden surge of adrenaline jolting through mysystem. I had been listening to that conversation; had been listening witheverything I had. And that was not in any way what Nicabar had said orimplied.

Which either meant he was playing a completely pointless game with me... orelse there was something else entirely going on here.

And then, even as Nicabar turned contemptuously away from me and back to Nask, I

heard the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard in my life. A soft sound, hardlyaudible, certainly not at all melodic. But a sound nevertheless that threeminutes ago I would have sworn I would never hear again.

The soft sneeze of a Kalixiri ferret.

I would have been surprised if any of the others noticed it. Certainly theygaveno sign that they had. Nicabar was conversing in a low but intense tone withNask, probably discussing plans for the upcoming raid on the Icarus, and allthe Iykams in my field of view were still glowering at me with the same unfriendlyexpressions that their companions had worn in the back room just before I'ddropped a chair on them. Slowly, making it look like I was checking them outin turn, I moved my head just enough to see the lower of the room's air vents.

And there he was, barely visible in the shadows behind the vent's crosshatchedgrating: Pix or Pax, I couldn't tell which, his head turned to the side as ifhe was grooming himself or gnawing at an itch. Just as slowly, I turned back tothe desk again, not wanting my interest in that part of the room to spark anyunwelcome curiosity.

Nicabar was looking sideways at me, still talking to Nask. I dropped oneeyelida millimeter and got an equally microscopic nod in return from him before he seemed to notice his ID still lying on the desk and returned it to his pocket.

Not his ID, rather, but the one I'd taken off the Patth agent on Dorscind'sWorld after my old buddy James Fulbright's attempt to cash in on the reward.

Clearly, my original estimation of Thompson as little more than a glorifiedPatth accountant had been seriously off target.

"I suppose you're wondering what we've got planned," Nicabar spoke up into mythoughts.

"Oh, no, don't tell me," I said, remembering to put the same bitterness intomyvoice that I'd been feeling two minutes earlier. "I just love surprises."

"I'd be a little less flippant if I were you," Nicabar said reprovingly.

"Whether the rest of the Icarus crew lives or needlessly dies is going todependentirely on you. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that—what the hell?" Hejumpedaway from the desk toward the wall, just as Nask let out a yelp of his own.

And for good reason. The air vents, upper and lower both, were suddenlyspewinga dense, pale yellow smoke. "We're on fire!" Enig gasped.

"You three get out of here!" Nicabar snapped. He'd reached the area of thelower vent now, his head and torso disappearing as he bent down into the smoke.

"You—defenders—get that top vent sealed!"

Two of the five Iykams were already scrambling against the wall, straining toreach the upper vent's sealing lever. From Nicabar and the lower vent came ateeth-grinding screech of torn metal; and then abruptly he was standinguprightagain out of the cloud of smoke, a cloud that seemed already to be starting todissipate.

And in his hand was Fulbright's Kochran-Uzi three-millimeter semiautomatic.

His first two shots took out two of the Iykams still standing guard over me.

The third guard nearly got his own weapon up and aimed in time, but lost the lastchance he would ever have as I leaned sideways and kicked his gun arm out ofline. I swiveled back around as Nicabar systematically took out the rest ofthe guards, heaving myself up with the chair on my back again, and hurled myselfacross the desk at Nask.

The Patth threw his own chair backward as he saw me coming, making one lastfutile grab for something in the drawer he'd opened as he got out of my way.

But the desk was higher than the table in the back room had been, and with theadditional barrier of the monitors along its edge I only made it about halfwayacross before I ran out of momentum. Nask, belatedly seeing that his reflexivedodge had been unnecessary, killed his own backward momentum and dived out ofhis chair toward the open drawer.

"Don't," a familiar voice warned from the doorway.

Nask froze, his head twisting to look in that direction, his hand stilloutstretched toward the drawer. I looked, too, trying to ignore the fresh redhaze my sudden bit of exercise had sent swimming across my vision. Ixil stoodin the doorway, the plasmic in his hand pointed squarely at Nask, his wideshoulders and settled-looking stance blocking any hope of escape for the twoPatth pilots standing rigidly in shock in front of him.

"I see," Nask said. I looked back to find he had straightened up again, hishand fallen empty at his side.

"It's like a class reunion in here," I said, my voice sounding distant in myears through the trip-hammer that had apparently finished its lunch break andstarted up work again on the back of my head. "I hope someone thought to bringsome painkillers along."

"We did better than that," Ixil assured me, motioning Brosh and Enig backtoward Nask and closing the door behind him. "We've got Everett waiting outside."

"Everett?" I echoed. "I told him to stay with Shawn."

"Tera and Chort are with Shawn," Nicabar told me. He was at my side now, examining the handcuffs. "It occurred to us that you might need medicalattention more urgently than he did."

"I don't, but I might have," I admitted, nodding toward one of the guardslyingdead on the floor. "That one. Keys in his belt pouch. How did you find me, anyway?"

"We never really lost you," Nicabar said, dropping to one knee and digginginto the pouch. "Tera wanted to know just where you were going to go on yourerrand."

I looked at Nask, who was standing stiffly glowering at us. "Don't worry aboutgiving anything away," I told Nicabar. "They were staking out pharmacists, after all. Like he said, they're putting together the pieces."

"And we already have most of them," Nask said quietly. "Sooner or later wewill get you."

He drew himself up. "And when we do, you will wish you had bargained here andnow. You will wish it very much."

"I'll make you a small wager that we don't," I offered. But the words wereautomatic, and ninety percent bluster besides. For at least the foreseeablefuture, the smart money was definitely still on the Patth. "So what, after Ileft she called and had you tail me?" I asked, turning back to Nicabar.

"Actually, we'd already set it up," Nicabar said. He found the keys and set towork on my cuffs. "After the Iykams jumped you, I followed your party backhere and then called Ixil. He brought the chemicals I needed, and while I mixed upthe smoke bombs and time fuses he sent his ferrets in to reconnoiter. Theycame back, and we rigged them with harnesses to drag the bombs and gun inside."

The last cuff came loose. "You certainly had me going," I said, massaging mywrists. So that was what the ferret in the vent had been doing: chewingthroughhis harness straps so that he wouldn't have to be sitting on top of the smokebomb when it went off. "How exactly does the rest of the plan go?"

Nicabar nodded at the three Patth. "We cuff our friends together and get outof here."

"Good plan," I said. "There's only one problem. This ship of theirs, theConsiderate. It must be pretty good-sized, or Nask wouldn't have thoughtthey'dbe able to handle the Icarus. If they get loose before we make it off-planet, they might take it into their heads to try and intercept us."

"A good point," Nicabar admitted. "Well... if you want, I'll deal with it."

"Be warned," Nask said. Suddenly every trace of smarminess was gone from hisvoice, leaving nothing but simmering threat in its place. "The murder of aPatthaaunutth citizen is punishable by the most severe consequencesimaginable."

"And how would they know who'd done it?" Nicabar scoffed.

"There are ways," Nask said, still in that same tone. "There are always ways."

"Doesn't matter," I said before Nicabar could reply. "We can't shoot downunarmed civilians in cold blood anyway."

"Then what do we do?" Nicabar demanded. "Just leave them here like this?"

"We leave them here," Ixil said, stepping forward and handing me his gun. "Butnot precisely like this. Jordan, if you'd be so kind as to watch them; andRevs, I'd appreciate it if you'd get that upper vent open so that Pix can get out."

"What are you going to do?" I asked, keeping one eye on the three Patth andthe other on Ixil. He had retrieved one of the corona guns and was fiddling with apair of control settings.

"This will be an experiment," Ixil said. "I found this setting when I wasexamining the weapons you brought from your encounter on Xathru. It's quitelow-power—far too low, in fact, to possibly serve as a credible weapon."

"What's it for, then?" Nicabar asked, grunting as he tore the grating from theupper vent. Pix was more than ready, diving out of the opening almost beforethe grating was all the way off. Hitting the floor, he dodged around the Iykams'bodies and scampered up Ixil's leg.

"I expect it's used for torture," Ixil said, squinting at the dials.

"Somethingto cause pain without the risk of physical damage."

"What an efficient idea," I muttered, gazing hard at Nask. He said nothing, his eyes riveted on the weapon in Ixil's hand. "No reason you should have to carryboth a gun and a set of thumbscrews, too."

"Indeed," Ixil said. Finishing his adjustments, he headed toward Brosh.

"Just a moment," Brosh said, taking a hasty step back. "I'm a simple starshippilot, from a civilian merchant ship. I have nothing to do with decisions orpolicies of that sort."

"I realize that," Ixil said, reaching out his free hand and taking one ofBrosh's arms in an unbreakable grip. "And for that reason I sincerely hopethis doesn't hurt too much."

And pressing the corona gun against Brosh's left cheekbone, he pulled thetrigger.

There wasn't any flash—the current flow was far too low to produce a spark.

But from the effect on Brosh Ixil might have just put a thousand volts across hisface. He gasped sharply, his head jerking back with such violence that my ownhead injuries throbbed in sympathetic pain. Ixil didn't give him a chance torecover his balance, but simply leaned forward and delivered a second jolt tothe other cheekbone. Brosh gasped again, a sound that seemed to be on the edgeof panic or hysteria. "Just one more," Ixil soothed him, and delivered a thirdshock to his forehead just above his eyes.

Abruptly, Nask snarled something in the Patth language. About a step behindme, he'd suddenly figured out what Ixil was doing. "You sacundian alien frouzht—"

"—and then we move on to the hands," Ixil said, ignoring both Nask's cursesand Brosh's yelps and delivering a quick jolt to the backs of each of the pilot'shands. "And that," he added, letting go of Brosh's arm so quickly that theother nearly toppled over backward, "is that."

"Yes, indeed," I agreed. "And with all that lovely implanted circuitry now scrambled or fried, the Considerate is without a chief pilot."

"And will be also without its backup pilot in a moment," Ixil agreed, movingto where Enig was cringing.

Enig demonstrated himself capable of more dignity and self-control than hissuperior, leaving Nask's continuing stream of invective un-punctuated by gaspsor moans. "Now it should be safe to secure them to the desk," Ixil said, tossingthe weapon distastefully across the room and taking his plasmic back from me.

"Revs, if you'll do the honors?"

A minute later, the three Patth were trussed like a matched set ofThanksgivingturkeys. They maintained a stoic silence throughout the operation, even Naskapparently having run out of things to call us. But the ambassador stared atIxil the whole time, and there was something about the very deadness of hisexpression that sent a chill up my back.

"Looks good," I said after Nicabar had finished, giving his handiwork a quickexamination. Not that I didn't trust him to do a proper job, but it was toolate in the day to be taking unnecessary chances. "I presume one of you knows thebest way out?"

"Straight through the club," Ixil said. He snapped his fingers and Paxabandoned his examination of one of the dead Iykams and scurried toward him. "Did youknow you were in the back rooms of a night-to-dawn club, by the way?"

"No, but I should have guessed from the music I was hearing," I said as Paxclimbed up and took his accustomed place on Ixil's other shoulder. It occurredto me that I hadn't actually heard the band for some time now; straining myears, I discovered I still couldn't hear it. Either Nicabar's gunshots hadaffected my hearing, or else the club had suddenly gone silent. An ominouspossibility, that one. "Let's go."

I headed for the door, scooping up one of the corona guns along the way justto have some kind of weapon in my hand. Nicabar and Ixil moved into supportpositions on either side of me, Nicabar easing the door open for a cautiouslook as Ixil kept an eye on our three Patth friends. "All clear," Nicabar murmured.

He started out—

"Kalix."

I turned around. Nask was still staring at Ixil, the look of death stillsmoldering in his eyes. "For what you did here you will pay dearly," theambassador said quietly. "You, and all your species with you. Remember thisnight as you watch your people starve to death."

For a moment Ixil looked back at him, his own face expressionless, and Iwondered uneasily if he was having second thoughts about the side he'd chosen.

If Nask wasn't just blowing off steam—and if he could persuade the PatthDirector General to back him up—the Patth certainly had it within theireconomic power to make life miserable for the Kalixiri.

"Ixil?" Nicabar prompted quietly.

His voice seemed to break the spell. "Yes," Ixil said, turning back. "Goahead.

I'll take the rear."

Seconds later, the three of us were moving along a well-lit but desertedcorridor. There was still no music; nor, as we moved along, could I hear anysounds at all other than our own. "What did you do, scare away all the patrons when you came in?" I murmured.

"Something like that," Nicabar murmured back.

"I hope you scared away the Iykams, too," I said. "Nask implied he had a wholetroop of them guarding the building."

"He did," Ixil said grimly. "Everett and I dealt rather more permanently withthem while the Patth were distracted with you and Nicabar."

"And where is Everett?"

"On guard in the main club area," Ixil said. "It's right up here on theright."

We rounded a corner, to find ourselves at the edge of a garishly decoratedwiggle floor, its flickerlights still playing to its departed clientele, ascattering of spilled drinks and a couple of lost scarves adding color to thefloor itself. Beyond the wiggle floor, surrounding it on all three sides otherthan the one we were on, were the drinking and conversation areas, consistingof a collection of close-packed tables. Most of them sported abandoned bottlesand glasses, with the disarrayed chairs around them evidence of just how rapidlythe club's clientele had departed. The arrangement of lights had put most of theconversation area into deep shadow, a fact I didn't care much for at all.

Especially given that there was no sign of Everett. On guard or otherwise.

Nicabar had made the same observation. "So where is he?" he murmured.

"I don't know," Ixil said as we hugged the corner. "Maybe he went outside forsome reason."

Or maybe the Patth or Iykams had spirited him away, I didn't bother to add. Ifso, the evening was still a long way from being over. "Where's the door?" Iasked.

"There's an emergency exit behind that cluster of orange lights in thecorner,"

Nicabar answered. "It opens onto an alleyway just off one of the majorstreets."

"Let's hope he's out there," I said. "After you."

Silently, Nicabar headed off, angling across the wiggle floor toward theorangelights he'd pointed out. We were about two-thirds of the way across the wigglefloor, pinned like moths in the glow from the flickerlights, when I caught aglimpse of movement from behind the mass of darkened tables to our left.

"Watch it!" I snapped, jabbing a finger that direction.

But my warning was too late. There was the muted flash of a plasma-boltignition, and with a gasped curse Nicabar dropped to one knee, his gun firingspasmodically toward the area where the shot had originated.

"Damn," I snarled, jumping to his side and pulling him flat onto the floor asIxil's plasmic opened up from behind me, laying down a spray of cover fire.

"Shoulder," Nicabar bit out from between clenched teeth, his voice almostinaudible over the rapid-fire hiss of Ixil's plasma fire and the louderthree-millimeter rounds from his own gun. "Not too bad. Can you see him?"

I couldn't, though I could make out vague movements back in the shadows as ourunseen assailant apparently repositioned himself for his next shot. Butwithout a weapon that could reach that far it didn't much matter whether I could seehim or not. Instead, I darted to the edge of the wiggle floor, grabbed the nearesttable, and half shoved, half threw it to where Nicabar was firing.

And then, even as the table skidded with a horrendous screech into a positionwhere he could use it for cover, there was another plasmic flash from just to the right of our attacker's direction, this one accompanied by a startlinglyforlorn sort of squeak. "I got him," a hoarse voice croaked. "Come on—I gothim!"

"Stay here," Ixil ordered quietly, pushing me unceremoniously into the coverof the table beside Nicabar. Before I could do more than flail around for balance he heaved himself up from his prone position on the floor and was gone, chargingin a broken run across the open area with a speed and agility that weresurprising in a being of his size and bulk. Pix and Pax had already made itacross the floor, and I caught a glimpse of them as they disappeared among themaze of tables and chairs on that side. I held my breath, watching Ixil run, waiting in helpless agony for the shot that would take him down.

But that killing shot didn't come; and then he was there, ducking down andusingthe tables for maximum cover as he headed in. Abruptly he stopped. I held mybreath again—"Come on," he called, waving toward us as he holstered hisplasmic.

"It's Everett. He's hurt."

I felt like saying who isn't, but with an effort I managed to restrain myself.

Helping each other, with the added incentive of not knowing whether anotherattacker might be lurking in the shadows somewhere, Nicabar and I made itacross the wiggle floor in record time.

It was indeed Everett, lying beside a tangle of chair legs, and he was indeedhurt. A single plasmic burn, a pretty severe one, in his left thigh just abovethe knee. "I must have been looking the wrong way at the wrong time," heexplained, managing a wan smile as Ixil carefully tore the charred pant legawayfrom the wound. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," I said, taking his plasmic from him and making a quickbut careful survey of the area. If there were more attackers lying in wait, theywere being awfully quiet about it. "None of the rest of us are exactly in mintcondition at the moment, either. Where's the chap who was shooting at us?"

"He's over there somewhere," he said, nodding to the side.

"I see him," I said, stepping over to a misshapen bundle on one of the chairsa couple of tables away from Everett's position. The bundle turned out to beanother of the ubiquitous Iykams, this one lying draped across the seat with aplasmic still hanging loosely from his hand. Cause of death was obvious: aclose-range plasmic burn in his back. "Nice shooting."

"Thanks," Everett said, the word cut off by a hissing intake of breath as Ixilfinished with the charred cloth. "I'm sorry I didn't get him sooner—I've beendrifting in and out of consciousness. I didn't even know he was there until hetook that shot at you. How bad is that burn, Revs?"

"Hurts like hell, but I don't think there's any serious damage," Nicabar said.

He was on one knee beside Everett, rummaging around in the medical pack lyingon the floor beside him. "So how come they left you here alive after they shotyou?"

"I don't know," Everett confessed. "I'm just glad they did."

"Ditto," I said. "Can you walk?"

"Do I have a choice?" Everett countered. He dug into the med pack, pushingNicabar's hands impatiently out of the way, and came up with a couple of burnpads. "I presume you know how to apply one of these," he said to Nicabar as hehanded him one of the pads.

"I've had more practice than I care to remember," Nicabar grunted, pulling thecharred shirt material away from his shoulder with stoic disregard for thepain.

"What about you, McKell?" Everett went on as he opened his own pad andarrangedit carefully over his burn. "I seem to remember you being the one we werecharging in to rescue in the first place."

"I'm all right," I assured him. "I could use a painkiller for my head, buttheyhadn't started on the really rough stuff yet. Aside from Ixil, I think I'mprobably in the best shape of all of us."

"I wouldn't tempt fate that way if I were you," Nicabar warned. "Everett?"

"I'm ready," Everett said, wincing once as he pressed the edges of the padfirmly into place against his leg. "Though I may need some help until theanesthetic takes effect."

I sighed. We were, without a doubt, just exactly the right men to bechallengingthe giant octopus of Patth economic domination. Humanity was counting on us, and humanity was in trouble. "Tell me some more good news," I said sourly.

"As a matter of fact, I can," he said, digging out a bottle of painkillers andtossing it to me. "I've found us a safe haven. A temporary one, at least."

I frowned at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I got in touch with a friend of mine on my way over from the ship," he said, dropping his voice. "Called him on that StarrComm station by the tram lines.

He's a retired doctor, one of my instructors when I went through med training.

He's running a private ski and ice-climbing place now on a quiet little resortworld about five days away, complete with a small but full-service landingarea.

Fuel supply, landing-pad repulsors, perimeter lift-assist grav beams—theworks."

"He'll be used to private yachts there," Nicabar pointed out doubtfully. "Canhe handle a ship the size of the Icarus?"

"I spelled out the dimensions and he says he can," Everett said. "And it'soff-season there right now, which means the place is deserted."

"Other towns?" Ixil asked.

"Nearest is two hundred kilometers away," Everett said. "We'll have time tofinish the camouflage work on the ship and give all these burns some healingtime." He lowered his voice still further. "We might even be able to get thestardrive working."

"Sounds too good to be true," I said. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," Everett said. "He has no idea who or what we are—I told him youwere a group of investors interested in buying into resorts like his and pouringexpansion money into the more successful ones. He won't even be there—he'sheading out in two days on an equipment-buying trip. We'll have the wholeplaceto ourselves."

I looked at Ixil and lifted my eyebrows questioningly. He shrugged slightly inreply, his expression mirroring my own thoughts. Even if this turned out to bea trap, given that the Patth were already breathing down our necks we didn'thave a lot to lose. At least with a trap set the Patth and Iykams might not be soquick to flail around with blunt objects, a restraint that would not only givemy head a chance to heal but would also automatically raise our chances of slipping or fighting our way out of it. "All right," I said. "We'll try it.

Where is this place?"

Everett hesitated, glancing around the darkened room. "I don't know," he said.

"Out here in the open—you know."

"I want to know now," I told him, moving close and putting my ear to his lips.

"Just whisper it."

He sighed, his breath unpleasantly warm on my cheek. "It's on Beyscrim," he whispered. "The northwest section of the Highlandia continent."

"Got it," I said, getting a grip under his arm. He was right; even whispering it in here was risky. But I needed to know, and I needed to know before we got back to the ship. "Okay. Now we can go."