"With three dead Brummgas behind me?" Harper countered. "Don't be ridiculous."
Jack hesitated. Harper was probably right about that.
Question was, could Jack and Draycos trust the man? Jack looked at Draycos, but the K'da was looking back at him. Waiting for him to make the decision.
And as he gazed at those glowing green eyes, a memory popped back into Jack's mind: he and Draycos on Sunright, with Jack unwilling to go charging back into danger to rescue Alison and some of their fellow Whinyard's Edge soldiers. A warrior does that which is right, Draycos had told him. Not because he may profit from it. Because it is right.
If they left Harper here, the man was dead. Pure and simple. Either by the hand of the Brummgan legal system or by the far more personal hand of the Patri Chookoock.
And there was always a chance he and Harper were on the same side. "Come on, then," Jack told him.
Turning back to the ruined wall, he steeled himself and leaped the two feet across to the end of the ramp. Draycos was right behind him, with Harper a close third. "We're in," Jack called toward the airlock's camera/speaker/microphone module. "Close up and head to the roof."
"Right," Uncle Virge said.
"Wait a second," Harper protested as the ramp slid back into place and the outer hatch closed. He started toward Jack, stopping abruptly as Draycos stepped warningly into his path. "The roof?"
"They'll be looking for someone running," Jack called back over his shoulder as he headed for the cockpit. "So instead we go to ground."
The Essenay was already settling onto the roof beside the police station's set of big relay dishes when Jack reached the cockpit. "Hull-wrap on, everything else power crash-down," Jack ordered the computer as he slid into the pilot's seat.
"Got it," Uncle Virge said, the cockpit's lights and power indicators already winking out. "Jack, lad, bringing on another passenger—"
"Save it," Jack said. He turned as Harper came up behind him, Draycos close on his heels. "Just relax, Mr. Harper. It's under control."
He saw Harper's eyes flick to the single part of the board still showing indicators. "Chameleon hull-wrap?" he asked.
"That's right," Jack confirmed. "A very good one, too."
"It still won't fool them forever," Harper warned. "We may look like a section of roof from above, but there's no way to hide the ship's actual bulge from anyone looking straight across the rooftops at us."
"We aren't going to stay here forever," Jack assured him. "As soon as those fighters and police aircars get far enough away, we'll be making a break for it."
"And at night a sideways look isn't going to do anyone much good anyway," Uncle Virge added. "Trust me, we've done this before."
"I'll take your word for it," Harper said, glancing around. "I give up. Where are you?"
"Uncle Virgil's not actually here right now," Jack said, tensing a little as he always did whenever someone asked about his dead uncle. "He just added a personality simulation to the computer so I wouldn't get lonely when he was away."
"Interesting." Harper leaned over Jack's shoulder toward the P/S/8 designation plate on the computer-interface board. "That kind of personality simulation usually requires at least a P/S11. You must have upgraded your system somewhere along the line."
"Actually, I think the ship came already equipped with a P/S/11," Jack said. "I think what Uncle Virgil did was downgrade the designation plate."
"We've got a shuttle incoming from the northeast," Uncle Virge reported. "The police are moving to intercept."
"That'll be mine," Harper said. "Or, rather, the one the Patri was sending for me."
Jack sent him a sideways look. "Awfully nice of him."
"Relax; I'm not with them," Harper said. "Really. I just spun them that yarn to get myself into the police station."
"Ah," Jack said, wondering whether to actually believe that. "He's going to be furious when he finds out you killed three of his soldiers, you know."
"No more furious than he'll be when he finds out I lied to him about being one of Neverlin's associates." Harper consulted his watch. "Which should be any time now, depending on when the answer to his query gets back from the Advocatus Diaboli."
Jack frowned at him. "You knew he would check up on you?"
"Of course," Harper said. "But I also know how long it typically takes messages to transfer back and forth between underlings and superiors. I figured I had enough time, especially given how eager the Patri was to let me sneak you out of jail and into his hands."
A shiver ran up Jack's back. "You play dangerous games."
"You should talk," Harper countered. "From where I sit, it looks like you're involved with Neverlin up to your lower lip."
"Jack's involvement is purely accidental," Draycos put in.
"And then we have you," Harper went on, looking over his shoulder at Draycos. "I can't wait to hear your story."
"Jack, I believe it's time," Uncle Virge spoke up. "They're all far enough away."
Jack nodded. "Rev us up."
The board lit up again as the computer reactivated the Essenay's systems. Jack gave everything a quick look, then got a grip on the control yoke. "You might want to hang on to something," he advised Harper. "This could get a little bumpy."
"Keep it slow and casual as long as you can," Harper cautioned. "The more you look like someone out on an innocent late-night errand, the longer it'll take them to notice you."
"Thanks, I know the drill," Jack told him. "Here goes."
He eased the Essenay away from the roof, turning off the chameleon hull-wrap as he did so, and headed at a leisurely pace at right angles to the current focus of the searchers' attention.
For the first thirty seconds he thought they were actually going to pull it off. Then, three of the fighters turned away from their confrontation with the Chookoock shuttle and swung onto an intercept course. "That's it," Jack said, grabbing the thruster control. "Hang on, everyone." Mentally crossing his fingers, he jammed it to full power.
He needn't have worried. The fighters' pilots had apparently been motivated by little more than curiosity about the unidentified craft's presence over the city. By the time Jack's burst of speed turned their idle questions to sharp-edged certainty, the Essenay had too much of a lead.
Six minutes later, with the fighters still trying to play catch-up, Jack keyed in the ECHO. The starry sky in front of them flashed with the usual brief rainbow, and became the blue of hyperspace.
And they were safe. For now.
"Nicely done," Harper said. "Now what?"
"We find someplace to drop you off and get on with our lives," Jack said, frowning at the navigation display. With the data diamonds holding the refugee rendezvous information still aboard the Advocatus Diaboli, the new plan had been for him and Draycos to go to Driftline, where Alison had deduced Frost had been heading when he'd been ordered to Semaline to pick her up.
Of course, that had been a month ago. Frost and Neverlin could easily have changed their plans since then. But Driftline was the only lead they had.
But Uncle Virge had already laid in an ECHO course. Not for Driftline, but some obscure planet named Bentre at the edge of Compfrin space. "Uncle Virge?" Jack asked.
"We'll talk later, Jack lad," the computerized personality said firmly.
"Whatever," Jack said, catching the cue. Apparently, whatever was going on, it wasn't something Uncle Virge wanted to discuss in front of company.
"Meanwhile, we'd be more comfortable in the dayroom," Draycos put in.