But as Langston had predicted, the bandage came off when Draycos went two-dimensional. Every time after that, whenever he came back off Jack's skin, they found that a little more fresh blood had oozed from the wound.
And while the K'da soon came back to a sort of dreamy consciousness, he remained weak and unable to do much except eat and sleep.
"I just hope he didn't take any damage he can't heal by himself," Langston commented midmorning on the third day as he carefully wiped off the latest bit of blood. "If your numbers areright, the rest of his people are still over a month away."
"He's going to get well," Jack growled. "He is."
"I know, I know," Langston said quickly. "I'm just saying, that's all."
But he was right, Jack knew as he gazed down at his sleeping friend. Draycos was recovering, but slowly. Much more slowly than he'd bounced back from other injuries. He needed medical attention, and medical treatment.
And he wasn't going to get either trapped in the Golvin canyon. "You're right," Jack said with a sigh. "We need to get him out of here." He looked up at Langston. "Tonight."
"Let's not go off half-charged," Langston warned. "If he's got internal injuries or bleeding it might actually be more dangerous to move him than to let him just lie here quietly and heal."
"And starve to death?" Jack countered.
Langston grimaced. "Point," he conceded. "Okay: compromise. At current rations, we've got about three days left. Let's give him one more day to rest and heal. Tomorrow night, win, lose, or draw, you and I will sneak down the rabbit hole and see about grabbing that aircar."
"Deal," Jack said with a twinge of dread. If they moved Draycos too soon—or moved him too late—they could end up killing him.
He was just wondering if he should suggest they wait two days instead of one when he heard the sound of a distant explosion.
Draycos's eyes came halfway open. "Jack?" he murmured.
"I know," Jack said, getting to his feet and heading to the door.
One look at the rising pillar of smoke and sand above the eastern canyon rim was all he needed. "I don't believe it," he said. "They blew up the mine."
"Someone did," Langston said grimly from beside him. "But it wasn't the Golvins. You hear that?"
Jack strained his ears. "No."
"I do," Langston said. "It's the lifter subthrob from a Djinn-90 pursuit fighter."
Jack felt his heart seize up. "Oh, no," he breathed.
"Yeah," Langston said. "Offhand, I'm guessing your Malison Ring buddies have tracked you down."
And right on cue, three large starfighters shot into view over the canyon rim.
"That tears it," Langston bit out, stepping back from the door. "Come on."
"Where are we going?" Jack asked, following him to where Draycos lay.
"Into the rabbit hole," Langston said, scooping the rest of their food back together into Jack's Judge-Paladin hat. "They'll be firing up their sensors any minute now, looking for human heat signatures. Inside a pile of stone is our best bet."
"We're already in one," Jack objected. His muscles still ached from his earlier climb up the light shaft, and he wasn't at all sure he could handle a repeat performance. "Besides, those Djinn-90s are way too big to get down here."
His last word was punctuated by the rippling crack of laser fire. There was a second salvo, and the air was suddenly shattered by the sound of crumbling stone. "Not for long," Langston said grimly, stuffing the hat into his jumpsuit. "That was one of the stabilizing arches getting blown to gravel. A couple more of those, plus a few guy wires, and they'll be able to bring in any floosing ship they want."
Jack swallowed hard. And when that happened, he and Draycos would be caught like trapped mice. "You've sold me," he said, getting a grip on Draycos's paw. "Let's get that aircar and get out of here."
"No," Draycos said.
"It's the only way," Jack told him. "Come on, get aboard."
"We don't go down," Draycos insisted, his voice strained. "We go up"
Jack looked at Langston, saw his same puzzlement mirrored there. "Draycos, Frost and his men are up there," he explained, searching Draycos's face for signs of fever or delirium. If the K'da was starting to drift off on them . . .
"But soon they will be down here," Draycos said. "Wing Sergeant Langston is correct. Once they have a path through the obstructions, all their ships will come down to join in the search. We can then cross the guy wires and arches to the edge of the canyon."
"Great, except that it's all desert out there," Langston said in a tone of strained patience. "There's nowhere to hide."
"Not even in the mine," Jack added. "They blew up the entrance."
"I know," Draycos said. "But we can hide in the sergeant's wrecked starfighter."
Jack opened his mouth. Closed it again. "Can we?" he asked, looking at Langston.
"I think maybe we can," Langston said, his forehead wrinkled in thought, a cautious excitement starting to creep into his voice. "I'll be floosed. The hatch should be—yes. A little digging and we can—and the whole thing's pretty well sensor-shielded. They'd have to specifically target it to pick us up."
"Assuming we can get to it," Jack warned. "But at least we've got a plan. Come on, Draycos."
This time the K'da obeyed. A minute later, Jack and Langston were once again in the light shaft, and once again starting to climb.
As all around them came the echoing sounds of destruction.
The sky had begun to go dark, and Alison was settling in for her fourth night in the isolation hut, when she heard the sounds of distant gunfire.
"What's that?" Taneem asked, her ears stiffening.
"Sounds like Stronlo and his friends got tired of waiting," Alison said grimly as she pulled on her shoes. "Great."
"What are we going to do?" Taneem asked anxiously.
"Try first to figure out what's happening," Alison said, cautiously pushing open the door. No one was visible among the deepening shadows. "After that, I don't have a clue." She held out her hand. "Come on."
She'd made it no more than fifty yards when Taneem whispered a warning in her ear. Alison dodged sideways behind a tree, and was pressed against it when a female Parprin shot past, heading for the hut. "Looking for me?" Alison called softly.
The Parprin jerked to a halt. "They have come," she gasped, hurrying back to Alison. "The Brummgas have entered the compound with weapons and restraints."
Another burst of gunfire echoed in the distance, and Alison winced in sympathetic pain. "So the spies figured it out."
"The Penitent has had no choice but to lead us to the attack," the Parprin said. "He asks for your aid."
And Taneem, Alison suspected, was more than ready to render that aid. And possibly get herself killed in the process.
The question was how much Alison herself was willing to do for this lost cause.
"Alison Kayna?" the Parprin prompted as she hesitated.
Alison came to a decision. "Go back to the Penitent," she ordered the Parprin. "Tell him we'll do what we can."
For a moment the alien searched Alison's face, as if not sure whether to believe her. Then, with a curt nod, she took off again through the forest.
"We are going to fight?" Taneem asked, her voice wary.
"Do you want to?" Alison countered. "We don't have to, you know. This isn't our war."
"It was our arrival that created this danger," Taneem said. "We can't simply turn our backs on them."