But there were certain constants in every electronic design, constants forced by the laws of physics. Control circuits, which always ran on low voltage, were connected together by thin wires. Power supplies, which ran much higher voltage, required thicker wires and heavier insulation.
And if the high-voltage current from the power circuits ever wandered over into the control circuits, trouble was pretty much guaranteed.
Reaching a hand to the top of the weapon. Jack tapped one of the handles. "Hold it right here," he told the Brummga. "Keep it real steady. And don't bump any of the controls."
The Brummga did as instructed. Pulling out one of his multitool's special blades, Jack touched it to one of the thicker wires. The indicator light remained dark, confirming that there was no current flowing there at the moment. He checked two other wires, then replaced the sensor and pulled out a slender knife.
The operation took less than a minute. "Okay, I think I got it," he announced as he began screwing the cover plate back into place. "But don't let go until I tell you."
He finished with the plate and stood up, vigorously rubbing his forehead to again block any view of his face. "Thanks," he told the Brummga as he turned and strode back to the door, bowing his head as if he were checking on his multitool as he put it back into his pocket. "I'll let you get back to your exciting guard duty."
Jack left the room and headed back down the corridor. That went well, he thought toward Draycos, his skin itching as it always did when he had his back to people he'd just conned. What now?
Now we get under cover, Draycos said. Take the second door to the right.
Right. Jack chewed at his lower lip. On the other hand, what's the hurry? They're going to be on to us soon enough. It seems to me we should squeeze everything we can out of this time of blissful ignorance.
If we do, we run the risk of being caught in the open when the alarm is given, Draycos warned.
It's still worth a shot, Jack said. Where's the next nearest weapon?
A few rooms forward in the Number One weapons bay, Draycos said. From the camera image, I believe this one's mounted in the bay's main control room, instead of in auxiliary control. That room is right up against the hull, and we'll need to use a different door to reach it.
Then let's do it, Jack decided. Just show me where to go.
Very well, Draycos said. Take the next turn to the left.
CHAPTER 13
Neverlin had told Frost to search the man calling himself Virgil Morgan before allowing him aboard the Advocatus Diaboli. Frost had apparently taken that order very seriously, because Taneem ended up crouching by the grille overlooking Neverlin's office for nearly half an hour before the man finally arrived.
When he did, he wasn't at all what Taneem had expected. For one thing, he didn't look or smell anything like Jack, as she would assume a relative should. He was a large man, slightly bigger even than Frost, who was walking closely and watchfully behind him. He had broad shoulders and a way of moving that somehow brought the best Phooka dancers to Taneem's mind.
His clothing was another surprise. Instead of Jack's casual jeans, shirt, and jacket, he was wearing a distinguished-looking white uniform.
A moment later, she realized it was the same uniform she'd seen earlier on the Advocatus Diaboli's bridge crew. Apparently, Frost had decided not to let the man even keep his own clothes but had pulled a spare uniform from the ship's stores for him to wear.
But all of this Taneem noticed only secondarily. Her main attention was focused on Neverlin.
And on Neverlin's sudden and violent reaction to the man's entrance. "What the hell?" he all but gasped, twitching back from his desk. "Frost!"
"Hold it," Frost snapped, grabbing the man's right wrist.
Or rather, he tried to grab the man's wrist. Before he could get a solid grip, the other twisted his arm smoothly out of the mercenary's grip.
Neverlin twitched again, shoving himself even farther back from his desk as if expecting an attack. But the newcomer simply stood where he was, making no attempt to do anything at all. "Hello, Mr. Neverlin," he said calmly. "Nice to see you again."
Snarling a curse, Frost got another grip on the man's wrist. "You know him?" he demanded.
"Oh yes, I know him," Neverlin bit out. "His name's Harper. He's one of Cornelius Braxton's bodyguards."
Frost's shoulder twitched, and suddenly his other hand was pressing a gun against Harper's side. "Big mistake, friend," Frost said softly.
"Actually, the mistakes are all on your side," Harper said, his voice still calm. "What Mr. Neverlin failed to mention—because Mr. Neverlin doesn't know—is that I'm not actually working for Braxton anymore."
"Meaning?" Frost asked.
"Meaning that in all your grand and detailed planning for this operation, you never once thought about putting a spy on Braxton himself," Harper said, his voice suddenly hard. "Did you actually think he was just going to go about his business and forget about you?"
"Let me guess," Neverlin said. "You're volunteering for the job?"
"Don't be absurd," Harper said contemptuously. "The time for that is long over. Fortunately for you, someone else had the foresight to approach me months ago with an offer I decided was worth the risk."
"Does this person have a name?" Frost demanded.
"Yes, a name you know quite well," Harper assured him. "The Patri Chookoock."
Frost snorted. "And you expect us to just believe that?"
"Of course not," Harper said. "By all means, call him and ask." He eyed Frost over his shoulder. "Only be sure none of his Brummgas are within eavesdropping distance of the InterWorld transmitter when you do."
"Meaning?" Frost asked.
"Meaning you've been infiltrated," Harper said bluntly. "One of the Brummgas, possibly more than one, has been suborned."
"By whom?" Neverlin asked. "Braxton?"
"Worse—the Malison Ring." Harper looked at Frost again. "Possibly General Davi himself."
A shadow seemed to cross Frost's face. "That's ridiculous," he insisted. "Davi has no idea what's going on here."
"Like he had no idea you were holed up on the Chookoock estate?" Harper asked pointedly.
"That had nothing to do with Davi," Frost growled. "It was some con Morgan stirred up. Morgan, or the Kayna girl."
"Speaking of Morgan," Neverlin said, "if you're really working for the Patri, why this Virgil Morgan masquerade?"
"With all due respect, Mr. Neverlin, kindly start using your brain," Harper said. "Our conversation out there could have been picked up by anyone in your fleet. Would you really have wanted me to simply announce my true identity and mission to the Malison Ring's spies?"
"A good point," Neverlin said. "Again, why Virgil Morgan?"
"Because everyone here knows you've been trying to find Morgan to get him to open the K'da/Shontine safes for you," Harper said patiently. "He's the one person who could show up without raising anyone's suspicions."
"So how exactly do you know about any of this?" Frost asked. "If your job was to keep tabs on Braxton, how do you know what General Davi and the Malison Ring are up to?"