“I hope the ride you called made it through all right,” I commented as our elevator headed down. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for some cool air and a nice, comfy seat.”
“It should be here soon,” Bayta said as she wearily brushed some stray hairs away from her face. All in all, she didn’t look a whole lot better than I felt.
I hadn’t had a chance to look up Bay 39’s exact location, but from the floor number Doug had had me push it appeared it was nearly at the bottom edge of Proteus’s main disk. Once again, the trip seemed to take forever, but finally the elevator came to a halt and opened into another maintenance area. Doug led us through a few more narrow walkways until we came to a pressure door. Holding my Beretta ready, I punched the release, and waited as the heavy door swung open.
Beyond it, exactly as advertised, was Docking Bay 39.
It was a very small docking bay, I saw as we walked inside, smaller even than I’d expected. It was only about sixty meters long, no more than forty wide, with a ceiling that couldn’t top out at more than three meters. Rows of equipment and storage lockers lining the walls made the place feel even more cramped, as did the massive hatch that took up most of the bay’s far end.
And waiting for us in the center of the room were Emikai, Minnario, and Ty.
“Welcome,” Emikai called, lifting a hand to beckon us over. “I am pleased and gratified that you have made it through safely.”
“We’re kind of pleased and gratified about that ourselves,” I assured him. “I presume Minnario has been keeping you apprised of our progress?”
“Yes,” Emikai said, with markedly less enthusiasm as he shot a sideways look at Minnario in his hovering chair. Small wonder, since after hearing my impassioned plea in the courtroom that morning he was probably having trouble adjusting to the idea of the Modhri as an ally. “It has been most … interesting.”
“The Modhri is definitely all that,” I agreed, switching my attention to Minnario. “And you, Minnario? You seem to have made a remarkable recovery.”
“He was treated most efficiently and professionally,” the Modhri confirmed. “There may yet be some lingering symptoms, but he should recover completely.”
“Assuming he gets enough to drink,” Emikai put in wryly. “He insisted we stop at four restrooms along the way here for water.”
“There should be plenty to drink aboard the transport,” I said. “Though he might have to wait in line behind Bayta and me. A few more minutes, and we’ll be out of here.”
“You may go,” Emikai said. “But I will not. Here, among my people, is where I can best fight against this new threat.”
“A noble goal,” a soft voice said from my left. “A pity that you won’t succeed.”
I spun around, snapping up my Beretta. Wandek was standing there, half out of sight between a pair of large floor-to-ceiling oxygen tanks. Set into the bay wall behind him was a half-hidden door.
And between Wandek and the door, standing as straight and silent and motionless as a class of about-to-be-graduated Marines, were at least thirty Shonkla-raa.
“And of course,” Wandek continued, his eyes glittering, “none of you will be leaving Kuzyatru Station.”
EIGHTEEN
For a long moment no one spoke. No one moved. I could feel Bayta’s tension to my left, and Emikai’s chagrin to my right. On Bayta’s other side, Doug had gone utterly still.
Wandek, too, remained still, and it occurred to me that he was probably waiting for me to offer some response. It seemed a shame to disappoint him. “I see you took my advice,” I commented into the silence.
He cocked his head. “What advice is that?”
I nodded to the silent Shonkla-raa behind him. “I said that the next time you came after me you should bring the whole crowd.”
Wandek smiled. “And now you think you have me?” he asked. “You and your Modhran ally?”
Abruptly, Doug and Ty launched themselves toward him, snarling like rabid dogs, their teeth gleaming in their open jaws.
But before they’d covered even half the distance, a sudden, high-pitched whistle burst out from the assembled crowd, the sound filling the bay. It seemed to cut straight through my ears and head, sending a bone-jarring tingle through my teeth.
And as abruptly as they’d launched themselves into battle, Doug and Ty screeched to a frozen halt.
“You’re a fool, Compton,” Wandek said contemptuously, raising his voice to be heard over the whistling. “Did you really think I hadn’t noticed the curious change in msikai-dorosli behavior that has taken place aboard Kuzyatru Station since your arrival? Did you think that such careless terms as everywhere friend would go unheard and unnoted?”
“You talk a good fight,” I told him. “But as you can see, your impressive little organic Modhri whistle doesn’t bother me any.” I hefted the Beretta. “I seriously doubt it’ll stop a thudwumper, either.”
“Do you propose to kill thirty of us with your thirteen remaining rounds?” he countered scornfully. “That would be remarkable marksmanship indeed. And as for your friend and her kwi…” He gestured to my left.
I looked at Bayta, my throat tightening. The Chahwyn part of her operated on a slightly different telepathic frequency than the Modhri did, and its audio response characteristics were also significantly different. The Shonkla-raa’s whistle didn’t give them the same kind of direct control over her that they now had over the two watchdogs.
But it was close enough for her to feel some of the same effects. Her face was flushed and rigid, her eyes staring unblinkingly at Wandek, her body trembling visibly as the waves of debilitating sound washed over her. With her mind half frozen in battle against the Shonkla-raa’s telepathic call there was no way she would ever be able to aim and fire the kwi, or even spare enough focus and energy to activate the weapon for me to use.
I turned in the other direction and looked at Minnario. His face was rigid, too, but not with the watchdogs’ loss of control or even Bayta’s frozen helplessness. Alone of everyone in the room his deaf ears were immune to the Shonkla-raa’s siren song, leaving him still free to act.
But his immunity did us no good. He had no weapons to use against the Shonkla-raa, no tools, no special skills. In one way he was as free as I was. In another, he was effectively as helpless as Doug and Ty.
“Okay, I’ll grant you the tactical high ground,” I said, turning back to Wandek. “But even if I can’t take out all of you, I can definitely put a serious dent in your ranks.” I lined up the Beretta on his nose blaze. “And I’m pretty sure I’d start with you.”
“I don’t think so,” he said, lifting a hand. Behind him, at the very rear of the group, there was a small stirring of commotion. Something was moving toward the front—someone was moving toward the front—
And from behind one of the Fillies Terese German stumbled into view. Before I could move or speak, Wandek grabbed her arm and yanked her roughly over to his side, planting her directly in front of him.
Emikai snapped something vicious-sounding in Fili. Wandek didn’t bother to acknowledge the comment. “Well, Compton?” he invited.
“You’re an awfully big target to try hiding behind a Human girl that small,” I pointed out. “Terese? How are you doing?”
“How do you think I’m doing?” she retorted, her voice shaking. “What the fleeking hell is going on here?”
“In a nutshell, these fine folks want to take over the galaxy,” I told her. “Their current plan is to do in vitro genetic manipulation on unborn Human babies so as to give them enough telepathic ability that they’ll be able to control them.” I gestured with my free hand toward Doug and Ty. “The same thing they’re doing to those two watchdogs right now.”