And flinched back as the acrid green flash of a laser slashed out, slicing across the flying blade and sending a spray of liquid metal droplets in all directions. By the time the sword completed its arc, barely half of the hilt was left to bounce off the door.
"That answers that question," Spadafora said conversationally.
Lathe nodded grimly. "I guess it does."
From the other side of the monitor room door came a soft thunk. "What was that?" Haberdae demanded, half turning in his seat to look at the door.
"Something hit the door," Galway told him. "Something thrown, probably, that your defense lasers weren't able to completely disintegrate."
"Maybe it was a spare arm bone," Haberdae said with a sniff.
"I doubt it," Galway said. He drew a deep breath. "They didn't follow you to the strongpoint, you know."
Haberdae frowned. "What?"
"They didn't follow you to the strongpoint the night of the casino attack," Galway repeated. "They already knew that was where Caine was being held."
Haberdae's face was a surging sea of bewilderment. "What the bloody hell are you talking about?" he demanded.
Lifting Taakh's laser, Galway shot him in the leg.
The bewilderment vanished into utter disbelief as Haberdae bellowed in pain. Ignoring him, Galway shifted his aim to the row of Ryqril techs, shooting his way systematically down the line of suddenly panicked aliens until all of them were dead. Then, stepping to the control board, he lifted the orange cover and turned off the defense lasers.
He'd just closed the cover again when a much louder thud came from the door. "Galway!" Haberdae hissed between clenched teeth, his hands gripping his injured thigh. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Don't you really mean how the hell am I doing it?" Galway countered.
Haberdae's eyes widened as the deeper question finally sank in—
And then the door slid open, and Lathe and the others strode into the room. "You made it," Galway greeted them soberly, gesturing toward Haberdae. "I've got mine."
"And we've got ours," Lathe said. Turning to a clearly stunned Judas, he took the spy's wrist and twisted it suddenly behind him.
"Lathe!" Judas yelped. "What are you—?"
"Clear me a chair," Lathe told Galway as he deftly snapped off Judas's belt, letting it and its attached weapons clatter to the floor.
Galway stepped over to the closest chair and pulled the dead Ryq out of it, swiveling it around to face the blackcollars as Lathe walked a still protesting Judas over and sat him down. Spadafora produced a pair of quick-ties, and a moment later the boy's wrists were fastened securely to the armrests. "There we go," Lathe said as he began removing Judas's other weapons from the various pouches on his flexarmor.
"Sorry about this—what's his name, Galway?"
"Karl Judas," Galway said, watching the blood drain from Judas's face.
"Judas?" Lathe echoed, looking at Judas with fresh interest. "You're joking."
"Not at all," Galway assured him. "Caine's Resistance friends have a very warped sense of humor."
"I think it's more irony than humor, actually," Spadafora put in as he similarly secured Haberdae's wrists.
"Whatever," Galway said. "For what it's worth, he didn't really want to do this. His whole town's essentially being held hostage for his good behavior."
"We'll have to bring that up with the command half-circle when we talk to them," Lathe said, stowing Judas's weapons in his own pouches. "They in the central core?"
"Either there or in the lounge just off the core," Galway said. "Watch yourselves—they probably have a full guard in there with them."
"Understood," Lathe said, collecting Judas's weapons belt from the floor and tossing it to Spadafora.
"You want one of us to stay here with you?"
Galway shook his head. "I can handle them."
"We'll be back soon," Lathe said, motioning the others to the door. Mordecai opened it and glanced out, and the three blackcollars disappeared outside.
"This is insane," Haberdae said mechanically, his eyes locked in disbelief on Galway. "Insane."
"Perhaps," Galway said, looking over at Judas. Some of the color had come back into the younger man's face, but he had much the same look as Haberdae. "It's called Whiplash, Judas," he said. "I don't know where it came from, but its sole function in life is to release people from Ryqril loyalty-conditioning."
Haberdae sucked in his breath. "That's impossible," he said.
"Impossible and insane both," Galway agreed. "But it works." He took a deep breath, let it go in a tired sigh. "It works."
Judas's tongue swiped at his lips. "How long?" he asked.
"Since I was turned?" Galway shook his head. "Actually, only since last night. Lathe ambushed me on the road, knocked out my guard and driver ..." He hefted the laser. "And gave me a whole new purpose in life."
"A purpose of—" Judas broke off, an odd look flashing briefly across his face. "A purpose of treason," he continued, a subtle new tone in his voice. "How can you do this to your people?"
"What my people need is freedom," Galway said, frowning. Something was wrong here. But what? He looked down at Judas's wrists, still fastened to the armrests, confirmed that Haberdae was also still restrained.
So where was Judas's sudden new courage coming from?
"And you think this will get it for them?" Judas demanded. "Well, you're wrong. All it'll do is get you killed and bring reprisals down on the whole TDE."
"Lathe has a plan," Galway said firmly, trying to conceal his own misgivings. He wasn't at all sure that this was going to work, that the Ryqril wouldn't react in exactly the way Judas was suggesting. But the plan was already in motion, and he could either help or watch it go down in flames.
If Lathe was wrong, God help them all.
Across the room, the door slid open. "That was fast," Galway commented, turning toward it.
But it wasn't Lathe.
It was Taakh.
For a suspended fraction of a second man and Ryq stared at each other in mutual disbelief. Then, Galway broke free of his paralysis and swung his laser around, trying desperately to get in the first shot.
But if khassq warriors weren't as fast as blackcollars, they were far faster than ordinary humans. Even as Galway tried to bring his weapon to bear Taakh snatched out his short sword, flipped it into a throwing grip, and hurled it across the room. The sword slammed crossways into the laser's trigger guard, slicing two of Galway's fingers and knocking the weapon out of his grip. It caromed off the monitor board and skittered away into the far corner of the room.
"I could ha' killed yae," Taakh said, his voice quietly dark, his eyes flicking once to the dead techs.
Galway clenched his hand over the blood welling from his fingers. "Why didn't you?" he heard himself ask.
"'Ecause I rould rather kill yae rith ny own hands," the Ryq said. Stepping away from the door, he started toward Galway. "'Re'are yaersel' 'or death."
The sky was beginning to darken over the mountains when, in the distance, Skyler heard a faint explosion.
He looked at the two Ryqril, standing over by the air vent with Poirot, Bailey, and the lieutenant. Both aliens had turned toward the southeast, their postures unnaturally stiff as they listened intently. There was a second explosion, and a third—
Abruptly Halaak snatched a small comm from his belt and snarled into it. Even as a fourth explosion echoed through the mountains the Corsair hovering overhead stirred and lifted into the sky, picking up speed as it headed toward the sound. Putting away the comm, Halaak turned and strode across the clearing toward the prisoners, his hand clenching the grip of his holstered laser. "This may be it," Skyler warned the others quietly.