“It also means we’d better be figuring out how to get her out of there,” said Georgio.
“But how?” said Pew. “That’s the question. How?”
Morgan looked from one to the other, but saw no answer. She shivered and hugged the rain cloak to her neck as she gazed down at the silent house.
Major Talbott used his spy-glasses to study the house through the trees. There’d been no sign of activity except for the occasional circuit of the house by the Kyber woman. Kyber woman! He still didn’t understand what was going on here. Somehow everything had gotten turned around. The Kyber were supposed to be the ones he was working with. And now it turned out they were set to raid a house held by Kyber agents! Well, it was on the authority of the frigging Joint Command—meaning the Carlotta people and people like Hizhonor North—but it still didn’t make any sense. Weren’t the Kyber supposed to be working together? It sure as shit didn’t seem like it, the way those guys down there had nabbed the O’Hare woman before Strength could get to her.
All these years of putting his balls on the line for the cause, and he still wasn’t sure he trusted the Kyber “alliance.” He had to work with Joint Command, but more and more he wondered if the loonies weren’t in charge of the asylum.
Damn it all… if he didn’t believe so much in…
“So, Major, what are we going to do here?” grumbled the raven-haired woman crouched beside him. “Just stand around taking in the view all day?”
Talbott glared at her. Lieutenant Cassill. Good-looking bitch, but a pain in the ass. Supposed to be a top “field action-group” operative—code for act first, think later, as far as he was concerned. Too bad; he could think of better uses for someone with her looks. “We’ll move when I say we move,” he muttered finally. “If we botch it, we’ll be worse off than before.” He glanced at their third member. “You understand that, right, Corporal?”
Corporal Sladdak shrugged. “Right.”
Lieutenant Cassill checked her ion rifle. “I don’t see what’s so important about this woman, anyway.”
“She belongs to our sponsors, that’s what’s important about her.”
“Belongs?”
Talbott shrugged in annoyance. “Supposed to be one of their people. She got away. Defected. Whatever.”
Lieutenant Cassill looked unconvinced.
“You don’t have to understand; you just have to do it.”
“Yes, sir,” she said stiffly.
Talbott suppressed a snarl and raised his spy-glasses again.
The two Fabri natives slipped silently through the trees, moving with urgent speed. The word had come from their village leader, backed up by the informal Fabri intelligence network. Centrist Strength agents were on the move in connection with a kidnapping, and help was requested. A homefolk friend was involved—Harriet Mahoney, who had aided the Fabri on more than one occasion. Look for a human woman with a Swert and a Gos’n. Help them help the offworlder woman, if you can. The Fabri were not exactly freedom fighters, but they weren’t afraid to step forward when necessary.
The Fabri reconnoitered carefully as they approached the house in the woods. The taller one, the leader, searched the area around the clearing. “Fffff—two parties,” he murmured softly, with a shiver of his wings.
The other set down a ventilated leather case and joined the first in peering. “Those three, they are Strength,” he murmured, focusing on three humans about a third of a circle around the house to the right. “They are known to us.”
“And over there?” murmured the leader.
The second Fabri shifted his gaze to the left of the clearing. “Ah—the two aliens and the woman. They are Mrs. Mahoney’s people. They are here for the missing one.”
“Shall we make contact, then?”
Georgio was the first to see them. He muttered something guttural, and Morgan turned her head and nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of two approaching Fabri natives, clad in white. How did they move so silently? She placed a hand on Georgio’s tentacle-arm, the one with the weapon. “They’ve come to talk,” she said quietly.
Pew’s foghorn voice was surprisingly soft as he addressed the two Fabri males, “May we help you?”
One of the two fluttered his wings slightly. “That’s precisely what we intended to ask. Are you the friends of Vegas?”
Morgan’s heart raced. “She works for my mother.”
“Then you are here to attempt to free the offworlder woman?” asked the second Fabri.
“We are.”
“Then may we offer our assistance—?”
The shorter Fabri opened the leather case he was carrying and hoisted out a sinuous white animal. “This is a ferrcat,” he said softly, cradling the animal in his arms. “Its name is N’tari.” He was silent a moment, peering into the ferrcat’s eyes. There seemed to be a wordless exchange between the two. The ferrcat rolled its head from side to side, hissing softly. “She senses the woman,” the Fabri said. “Alive. And conscious. Weak, but well.”
The other Fabri unslung his weapon, a thistlegun. “Quickly, then. Before we are seen.” He bowed briefly to the others. “With your permission, I will move to another position, to offer additional protection.” Without waiting for a reply, he melted into the trees.
His companion spoke softly to the ferrcat, touching the glowing jewel hanging from its collar. Then he set the cat down. It stretched languorously for a moment, then suddenly flashed into motion, darting down through the brush in a fast zigzag, and out of the woods. It paused at the edge of the lawn, peering up into the treetops as though checking for birds; then it sauntered on toward the house.
“I have asked N’tari to find the woman and lead her to us. Now, we shall have to wait and see…” With those words, the Fabri raised his own thistlegun to the ready.
Maris woke up wondering why she was suddenly hearing voices. Or imagining voices, a soft mewling in her mind…
This way, Maris… this way to a friend…
She shivered, wondering if her captors had reactivated her implants. They’d claimed to have saved her life by turning them off; but what was to prevent them from switching them back on to keep her under their control?
But this hadn’t felt like a controlling force; it was more like a living voice. Not hostile. Friendly.
Come to the window. Come and you’ll see me…
There it was again.
Come to the window.
Like a purring in her mind. Come…
She rubbed her forehead. Well, why not? She could make it if she moved carefully. She heard Dennis clattering in the kitchen, and Lydia down the hall. If she got up slowly, now… if anyone saw her, she was just… going to the window.
Maris pushed herself to her feet, staggering a little. She caught her balance and stepped away from the chair. Dennis was clinking glassware. No sign of Lydia. Three more steps. She reached the living room window and gripped the sill.
Hello… there you are…
She peered through the curtain at an overgrown lawn, leading out to a woods. A light rain was falling.
A small face popped up on the other side of the glass. She stifled a cry. It wasn’t a human face; it was an animal. White. Like a large cat or weasel… wearing a collar with something glowing on it…