“And you might defeat us again—were you free to oppose us. But this is not among your options.” Dash made a little winglike motion with his two hands, as of options flying away. “You may join us, and salvage an amount equivalent to the entire segment of Etamin. In fact, I believe I can commit my galaxy to sparing that very segment in exchange for your voluntary services. Or you can suffer immediate destruction. I believe you are reasonable enough to select the lesser penalty—for yourself, your friends, and your segment.”
He stood up again, moving in quick spurts, his gaze flicking about, his posture almost strutting. “And I hardly need to add, I would be extremely appreciative on the personal level. You are the finest Kirlian entity I have encountered, and you have a most remarkable mind considering your age and experience. I have prevailed upon the Dash Command of Andromeda to delay overt hostilities solely to enable me to obtain your cooperation. This is how important you are. My proposal of marriage between us is sincere. It can be arranged, with auras like ours.”
Again, Melody was horribly tempted. She would never again encounter an entity like Dash; she was certain of that. There were probably several higher male auras somewhere in the two galaxies, but he also had high intelligence and competence, and was not otherwise committed. She had waited all her life for a male like him. But if he were to learn her true age and status, he would find her a good deal less attractive. Only as Mintakans could they merge—and then, only once.
On that slender, almost irrelevant thread her decision was made. She knew that in her heart she had betrayed her galaxy, but circumstance rather than personal strength enforced her loyalty. “No.”
Dash sighed. “I do this with extreme regret, but you are too dangerous to set free. Slammer—”
“Sir!” Skot cried.
Melody glanced at him. A weapon had appeared in one hand—a Solarian laser pistol.
Dash shook his head. “You cannot possess a genuine metallic weapon. There was no signal as you entered.”
“I entered parallel to the magnet; my weapon was masked by that.”
“Shrewd. But you cannot react faster than a magnet, and your weapon will not hurt Slammer.”
“True. But I can burn off your mouth before you can complete the order.”
What affected Melody most, even in this tense situation, was her realization that neither was bluffing. Dash really would order the magnet to kill, and Skot really would fire his weapon. Melody herself would not have had the nerve to do either, despite the stakes. As a conspirator, as a warrior, she was a washout; she understood what needed to be done, but lacked the gumption to do it. She felt weak, as though about to fault. This was not the first time she had reacted to news of a threat with foolish weakness, yet—
“Stand up!” Yael cried. “If you fail, we’re all dead!”
Shamed for the moment, Melody stiffened her spine, and fought off her faintness.
Dash would not be balked. “In a moment the magnet will realize that you are threatening me. Then it will act anyway.”
“No. It is assigned to protect Yael of Dragon. I am not threatening her.”
But Dash was threatening her, Melody knew. How would Slammer react to that? Could she somehow…?
Dash nodded. “It seems I underestimated you, Skot of Kade. You were reserved as our lone nonhostage, in case Etamin made a surprise verification of aural identities before we were ready to act. It appears that was our mistake.”
“I don’t get it,” Yael said. “Why doesn’t the Captain just touch that button on his desk to call for help?”
The distraction of the question helped to firm Melody’s wavering resolve. “Because if he makes one move toward the desk, he’ll be shot. All he can do is talk— and if he says the word ‘Slammer’ he’ll be shot anyway.”
“Then why doesn’t Skot just shoot him now and be done with it?”
“Because then we’d all be locked in this office with a murder on our hands and ten angry hostages outside. We have to deal with Dash without overt violence— somehow.”
“I’m glad you know what you’re doing,” Yael said.
Of course Melody had no idea what she was doing. She had formulated the rationale of the tactical situation only when challenged to do so. What a mess she had gotten them all into! A professional agent would have found some better, safer way to deal with the crisis. Melody could only watch.
“Stand well clear of that desk,” Skot said. “Llume, roll to the desk and touch the door release. But first use the desk monitor to check the location of the hostages aboard this ship; they may already be waiting in ambush for us. We’re going to eliminate every one of them—quickly.”
There, Melody realized, was a leader speaking. While she stood frozen in indecision and fear, Skot was acting with force and effect.
“Your effort is futile,” Dash said. “Even if you killed every one of us, you could not affect the hostages in power on the other ships of the fleet. If you messaged Imperial Outworld, you would accomplish nothing; the very resistance movement that sent Melody here has been routed out. No nucleus of loyalists remains on the planet. We have nullified them and the Society of Hosts.”
Oh, no! Melody thought. The Colonel of Ice Cream and Flotsam of Polaris, betrayed by what they had tried to do for her, for their galaxy.
Llume moved toward the desk. “Around the other side!” Skot cried, too late.
For as she passed between Skot and the Captain, Dash cried: “Slammer—revert!”
Skot fired, but Dash was already diving for his desk. He collided with Llume, bouncing off her resilient Polarian torso. She remained between him and Skot, balking the shot. Slammer shoved forward, hesitating, since Llume had not actually attacked the Captain.
The magnet was back under the direct command of the Captain. Slammer had never comprehended the intricacies of transfer and hostaging; he took his orders from the apparent master. Melody’s efforts to tame him had been well conceived, but vain.
“Yael of Dragon!” Dash screamed. “Slammer k—”
Skot’s beam lanced into his mouth. A front tooth exploded with the heat, ruining the handsome face, and the Captain fell.
Slammer flew across the room, too fast to avoid. During the episode of romance and fatherhood the magnet had seemed friendly, and Melody had lost her initial fear of him. Now, abruptly, she remembered exactly how dangerous he was. The magnet was no pet!
Dash had done it! He had tried to kill her!
Slammer passed between Skot and Melody and smashed into the wall. The metal bulged under the impact, and one side tore partially free of the door.
Melody stood paralyzed. Now she understood references in the Tarot about “slow motion” effects in some species during the severe stress. Mintakans did not experience this, but the human host certainly did. To see, to comprehend, to be unable to react…
Skot fired at the desk controls. Sparks splayed up as the beam cut through the delicate mechanism. Slammer hesitated again. Was it obliged to defend a desk?
“The magnet’s confused!” Skot called. “There are magnetic effects of the short circuit on the desk, and it doesn’t know what represents the most immediate threat. You girls get out while you can; I’ll try to cover for you.”