How good are they at hand-to-hand fighting?
Adequate, Draycos said. But the K'da and Shontine are far better. It is only the Death that gives the Valahgua their advantage.
Ah. Though at nine-to-one odds, Jack noted privately, the Valahgua didn't have to be particularly good to still win out in a straight-up, toe-to-claw fight. He and Draycos would have to make sure that didn't happen.
He rounded the final corner and found himself facing an orange-rimmed door fifteen feet away, flanked by a pair of armed Brummgas. That's it? Jack asked.
That's it, Draycos confirmed. You'll need to bring me as close as you can.
Easy, Jack cautioned as he strode toward the guards. To his eye, the Brummgas didn't look particularly alert. Certainly not as alert as someone guarding the ultimate weapon ought to look.
In fact, come to think of it, they looked bored and even a bit resentful.
Small wonder. Here in the middle of a ship populated entirely by their friends and allies, guard duty would seem pretty unnecessary.
They would have a rude awakening on that point soon enough. In the meantime, a pair of bored guards opened up some intriguing possibilities. What did you call the Valahgua head honcho again? he asked Draycos.
The Lordover, Draycos said. You have a plan?
I'm thinking we might try the subtle approach first, Jack told him, glancing casually around. Besides the two guards, there didn't seem to be anyone else around. We can always kick butt later if we have to.
"What do you wish?" one of the guards demanded.
"What do you think I wish?" Jack retorted. "The last diagnostic on the big gun came back a little iffy, and the Lordover wanted me to run a quick check."
The Brummgas looked at each other, and Jack held his breath. If they decided to call the Valahgua to check on the order, Draycos was going to get some exercise after all. "Come on; come on," Jack growled, waving toward the door behind them. "I haven't got all day."
"No one is permitted to be inside with the weapon," one of the Brummgas rumbled.
"No one is permitted to be alone inside with the weapon," Jack countered. The trick with Brummgas was to stay one step ahead of their mental processes. "Read your standing orders sometime, will you? So open up and we'll all go in together."
The aliens exchanged a second uncertain glance. "All of us, together?" the same one asked.
"I'm not supposed to be in there alone, remember?" Jack reminded him, putting some strained patience into his voice. "Besides, I'm going to need an extra hand or two."
"Yet the orders also state that we cannot leave the door unguarded."
"Then you wait out here, and your buddy can come in with me, and everyone'll be happy," Jack said.
The Brummga drew himself up. "No," he stated firmly. "He will stay. I will go." He gestured, and his companion stepped back to the door control. "But I will watch you closely," he added warningly.
"Fine by me," Jack said. "Can we please just get to it?"
The Brummga gestured again. His companion keyed the control, and the door slid open. Squaring his shoulders, Jack stepped between the aliens and into the doorway.
And found himself face-to-face with the Death.
Viewing it on the monitor, Jack had been able to appreciate both its comical appearance as well as its more deadly aspects. But no more. Here, standing in its presence, he could see nothing amusing about it at all. The device reeked of destruction and anger, of hatred and pride and a lust for power.
All tools and weapons, Uncle Virgil had once said, could be used for both good and bad. They could be a help in Jack's work, or could throw a snarl-up in his path.
But the Death was different. There was no useful task to which it could be put, no role of defense or creation that its technology could provide. All it could do was kill, without discrimination or restraint or mercy.
It was pure evil.
Jack felt a cold shiver run up his back. Uncle Virgil, he knew, would have immediately looked for ways the Death could be of use to him, as either a prize to ransom or a commodity to sell to the highest bidder. Jack himself, a year or two ago, would probably not have approved, but he would probably not have voiced any serious objections, either.
Not so the Jack Morgan of the present. This Jack Morgan could recognize the need to destroy this device. And he was ready and willing to do so.
Six months of living with a poet-warrior of the K'da had turned Jack into a person he'd never thought he could be. A person he'd never even dreamed he could be.
He was going to do what was right. Not because he stood to gain a thing from it, but just because it was right.
And despite the danger all around him, it felt good. It felt really good.
Jack?
With an effort, Jack shook away the sudden rush of feelings. The self-evaluation and warm fuzzies could wait until later. Right now, he had a job to do.
He eyed the Death, doing a quick mental calculation. Assuming the device hadn't been moved since his visit to the monitor room, one of the two cameras in the room had to be directly above the door, while the other was across in the far left-hand corner. A simple, straightforward arrangement, and one that covered the room quite adequately.
Unfortunately for Frost, the people who'd installed them had made the classic mistake of mounting both cameras out of the way near the ceiling. As long as Jack kept his head down, he should be able to keep his face off the monitors.
He stepped inside, looking down at his waist as he pulled out his multitool. Have you gotten close enough to Valahguan equipment over the years to know what kind of fasteners they use? he asked Draycos.
I have, Draycos said. They're like human-style screws, but with a triangular hole in the end.
Jack winced. His multitool had screwdriver blades with both cross-headed and square-headed tips. But a triangular tip was something new. I suppose it's too late to tell them I need to go get a tool kit?
Definitely, Draycos said. But I think one jaw from your needle-nose pliers will work.
I hope you're right. Jack reached the Death and leaned over the blue-light panel as if examining it. Control circuitry?
Beneath a cover plate on the underside, directly under the status light display.
Jack finished his examination and crouched down beside the weapon, using its bulk to block the relevant camera's view of his face. He found the access cover plate right where Draycos had said it would be, held in place at its four corners by the odd-looking triangle-holed screws. Mentally crossing his fingers, he opened his needle-nose pliers and inserted the tip of one jaw into the nearest screw.
The fit wasn't perfect, but it was close enough. Be careful—the thread is left-handed, Draycos warned. It works the opposite way from human designs.
Thanks. Jack turned the proper direction, and the screw began to loosen.
"You don't have right tools," the Brummga said, sounding more confused than suspicious. "Why don't you have right tools?"
"You've got to be kidding," Jack said with a snort. "Those Valahgua tools are for sissies." He got the panel off and laid it aside, then flicked on his flashlight and pointed it up into the opening.
Inside was a maze of wires, four rectangular circuit boards with neat rows of small components, and a few larger, thumb-sized modules wired separately into the system. Jack had dealt with his share of electronic designs over the years, but this one was completely unlike anything he'd ever seen.