I can show you the way out.
Maris drew back, startled. Was the thing speaking in her mind? Maybe that glowing thing on its collar was doing it. The animal dropped out of sight. Maris leaned forward to peer out and down. The animal was on all fours on the ground. It was the size of a large house cat, with a bushy tail. It glanced up at her, then trotted toward the back door. To meet her?
Maris drew a breath. What was this all about? Faber Eridani was apparently full of hostiles. It would be insane to trust this animal. Wouldn’t it?
She remembered her determination to run, if she could.
The touch of the animal’s mind was reassuring. She sensed an earnestness. This way. My friends sent me. Your friends. Friends of Harriet. Friends of Legroeder. You know Legroeder?
Maris stiffened. Had she heard right? She pressed her face to the window again. The animal was standing outside the back door, staring up at it expectantly.
“What are you doing?”
Maris jerked back from the window, staggering a little. Lydia glared from the hallway.
“I’m just—”
“Well, you shouldn’t be—”
“Shouldn’t be up without help,” said Dennis, interrupting Lydia as he came in from the kitchen. “Still, can’t blame you for being curious, I suppose.”
“We’re supposed to be keeping her safe!” Lydia snarled. She pointed a finger at Maris. “Do not expose yourself like that!”
“But I was just—”
“Miss O’Hare,” said Dennis, “please stay away from the windows. We don’t know who might be out there.”
Maris allowed herself to look more confused than she felt. “But you’re keeping an eye out with all these sensors, aren’t you?” She shot a glance at the console.
Dennis opened his palms. “True. There’s no need to get all worked up.”
Lydia scowled. “Look—just be more careful, all right?” She hooked a thumb at Dennis. “Let’s talk.”
Dennis shrugged and followed Lydia out into the kitchen.
Maris’s pulse quickened. Her chance? Was she crazy?
Friend of Harriet and Legroeder—come quickly!
Her heart was pounding like a drum. What the hell was she thinking? But if this was for real…
Voices came from the kitchen:
“She’s not a goddamn house guest, you know!” Lydia sounded furious.
“Look, the orders were just that she’s to be held—”
“Held, you moron. Held.”
“But for safety—”
Lydia’s voice dropped in volume, but the contempt was sharper than ever. “…are we going to keep her safe if she’s sticking her goddamn face out the goddamn window—?”
Maris was surprised to realize that she’d crossed half the distance to the door while listening to the exchange from the kitchen. Her hand was reaching out.
Be quick! To safety! Before the others get here!
An image filled her mind of people approaching in the woods, strangers even less friendly than her captors here in the house. Maris shuddered, and pulled her hand back.
“…keep her the same way we’d keep any prisoner!”
“But the commander said we could—”
“What? The less she knows the better. You know that.”
“You were the one who said—”
I sense your fear. I can lead you to help.
Maris squeezed the door handle. What am I doing? What will happen if I stay?
You don’t want to meet the others.
There was a bang in the kitchen. “We better not leave her alone in there.”
“Well, it’s not as if she can—”
Maris yanked the handle and staggered out of the house. Raindrops struck her face. Fragments of memory of her escape from the outpost cascaded into her mind—the confusion, the urgency and fear, the need to escape now. Blood rushed in her ears.
Quickly… quickly…
The animal was waving its front paws like an excited dog. The pendant on its collar was pulsing with pink light. Now, Miss Maris! Follow!
“Okay,” she whispered, surrendering all reason, except that this creature had spoken the name of Legroeder, the only friend she knew. The creature sprang to the right, away from the house. Maris followed on shaky legs.
An alarm was trilling.
“She’s gone out!”
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”
There was a pounding of footsteps.
“Major,” said the corporal, “who’s that coming out of the house?”
Talbott peered down through the woods.
“There she is!” shouted Lieutenant Cassill. “It’s her.”
Jezu. “Let’s get moving! Get her!” Talbott shoved the underbrush aside with his rifle as he leaped downward toward the clearing.
“There she is—!” shouted an unfamiliar woman’s voice.
Maris hesitated, turning her head.
“Get her!” called a man’s voice from the same direction.
No! cried the animal. Follow me!
Maris ran dizzily after the scurrying creature.
“You stupid bitch!” screamed Lydia.
A plasma beam crackled across the wet grass behind her, and there was a muffled shriek of pain.
“What’s the ferrcat doing—look! There’s a woman coming out!” rasped Georgio, pointing a tentacle-arm.
Morgan rose from behind the bushes, stunned. “That’s her, that’s Maris! She’s alive. She’s running!”
“She’s following the animal,” Pew boomed in his foghorn voice.
“There she is!” shouted a voice from the far side of the clearing. Morgan blinked, then realized that it was one of the Centrist Strength people. Another voice shouted, and then a door banged, and a different woman’s voice: “…stupid bitch!”
“We’ve got to move!” Morgan hissed. “Now!” She jumped up to shout to Maris, but Pew’s large, horny hand shoved her back down. A shot crackled across the lawn; the flash had come from the far side of the clearing. A woman screamed in pain. Not Maris.
“NOW!” boomed Pew, leaping out to crash downward through the bushes. A weapon had materialized in his hand. Georgio leaped after him, and Morgan scrambled to follow. Maris was running in their direction, after the ferrcat.
More shots. From the house, from the woods; it was dizzying, and Morgan couldn’t tell who was shooting at whom. But the woman she’d seen circling the house earlier was down in a heap, and the Centrist Strength trio were crashing down through the brush across the way. Morgan cupped her hands and shouted, “Maris—KEEP GOING! Stay down!”
Pew and Georgio dropped for cover, and Pew’s great hand swung up, aiming his weapon across the clearing.
The fleeing Maris saw the movement of the gun and dove into the grass even as Pew shouted, “Get down, Miss O’Hare!”
Morgan sucked a breath, expecting to see fire erupt from Pew’s weapon. The three Centrists, bursting into the clearing, were exchanging fire not with Pew but with someone in the house. But before Pew could fire, Morgan heard the zzzip of a thistlegun. She saw the Fabri in the trees to her right taking another aim. One of the Centrist Strength men was down, and the other was staggering back. The Centrist Strength woman grabbed the second man and pulled him back toward cover.