It was fear that drove Dagger to call Ferret, though he would never have admitted it. Just the sound of a human voice, or, even if Ferret refused to answer, the knowledge that he was there, reduced his fear of this black hell he was moving through. This black hell that turned bright and grainy under enhancement, fronds and branches reaching out like wings or arms to grasp at him, brush at his legs, or worse, his head. His teeth were clattering and his knees shaking, but he pressed on. Damn that Darhel, he had to catch that little freak, or this was all a bad screwup to try to explain. He’d catch a firing squad if they convicted him, and without the box for assets, he had no way to get out of the Republic.
“Ready to give up yet, Ferret?” he asked. Just the act of talking made the fear retreat slightly, as it emphasized his humanity.
There was no reply, so he continued, “You know we’re going to flank you and kill you, you crippled little loser.”
Still nothing.
“But I want to be fair, Ferret. Tell me who to send regards to, and I’ll tell them you died bravely.”
At that, there was a response. “Bravely how, Dagger?” Ferret’s voice was angry. Good. Dagger could almost hear the teeth grinding. “Bravely against you? Or are you going to blame this on the Darhel and kill him, too? Because you sure as hell can’t blame this on the Blobs and be believed.”
Dagger had no immediate reply, and hesitated just long enough. Ferret continued, “That’s it, isn’t it? He’s not really your ally, he’s a convenience.”
Dagger snarled. This wasn’t the way he’d planned it.
But Ferret was still talking. “I wonder if I can convince him of that? Hey, Dagger? Be awfully bad for you if we started hunting you instead, wouldn’t it?”
That he could respond to. “Not at all, Ferret. I don’t mind superimposing a target on your face and watching the splatter. Be good for a laugh. And you don’t think a fucking Darhel is going to give me any trouble, do you? Do you imagine he’s going to believe you? ‘Oh, I haven’t spoken to you yet, but I’m really on your side.’ That will fly.”
“Him? Trouble? No,” Ferret replied. “But I can stalk you better than you can stalk me. And you have to sleep sometime. I don’t really need to talk to Tirdal, anyway. I know where you both are. Later, asshole. The next sound you hear will be your chest exploding.”
Dagger growled again and decided he’d better talk to Tirdal quickly. If he could keep these two afraid of each other, he could play them off.
“Hey, Tirdal,” he called.
“Yes, Dagger? Are we done with insults?”
“For now, Tirdal, for now,” Dagger said, grinning even though no one could see him. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh? A gift of some kind? What’s the occasion?” Tirdal was doing his best to sound light and cheerful, almost human. With that deep, slow voice it didn’t work well. Instead, it was ghastly.
“Sort of, Tirdal,” Dagger said, nodding to himself. “Ferret is still alive and is right with me. You recall how well he can track?”
“Interesting, Dagger. You realize, of course, I find that very hard to believe. If you really had an ally, I would have been flanked in short order, or one of you would have secured the box before you ‘fragged’ your entire team.” Tirdal did not sound distressed. That reasonable, logical tone of his was one more reason Dagger was going to see him dead.
Tirdal obviously hadn’t Sensed Ferret, he realized! He thought this was a bluff, but he should know. If he didn’t, then that defined a limit on his Sense. Excellent to know.
“Well, it was a lucky fluke,” Dagger said, grasping for control. He really needed to rehearse his comments before talking to the damned Elf. “But once we realized how much we both hate Darhel, and the value of the box, it became easy. We both get you dead, we each get money. It’s a good deal all around. Except, of course, for you, because you’ll be dead. The fact that you can’t Sense him gives us even more of an advantage, not that we need it. You’re dead.”
“Very well, Dagger,” Tirdal replied. “You have an ally. It’s amazing how much of an advantage you feel you need over a lowly Darhel. It makes me think that you aren’t as formidable as you’d like everyone to believe you think you are.”
That stung a little, once he sorted it out. Tirdal knew how to use the language better than Dagger did. He must have spent years studying to be that sarcastic. But there were a billion credits at stake, and words weren’t going to change things.
“Tirdal, I don’t mind being generous with a billion. That’s why I was offering to cut you in. But you won’t take it, so it just leaves more for me and Ferret. As to being fair, why should I bother? We all know that Ferret’s the best tracker, I’m the best shooter, and you’re nothing. We’re not trying to prove some macho point, we’re simply going to kill you.”
“So you say, Dagger. To borrow a cliché, ‘First, you have to catch me.’ Goodbye again.”
Dagger knew better than to waste time replying. Tirdal wasn’t going to listen. Still, those seeds of doubt had been planted in him. If he kept playing them off each other, they would both be allies to him, while they imagined they were against him. It was even possible Ferret would do in the Darhel for him, if Dagger could get close enough to flank and let Ferret take him from behind. And Dagger could backtrack the discharge from a weapon easily.
Yes, this should turn out okay, after all.
The sooner dawn came or they cleared the woods, the happier Dagger would be. This was not pleasant. He grimaced. “I’m not a fucking coward. It’s just dark.” It didn’t reassure him. Dammit, there was nothing here except a few bugs he could outshoot.
And Ferret. Why was Ferret still alive? He stopped again, back to a tree, then turned in a circle, back still to it, searching through his scope for any activity in infrared. Little bugs, but no predator forms yet. And no sign of Ferret.
Ferret decided he needed to hear from Tirdal. He’d have to be doubly cautious what he said and felt, with that little freak probing at his mind, but he also needed intelligence. Whatever he could get from the Darhel would help. It likely wouldn’t be much; there wasn’t much inflection in that rich, deep voice, and as an alien, Tirdal had to deliberately emphasize his voice. If he chose not to, it was simply a monotone. Ferret would have to discern intent from very few clues. It was a whole new type of tracking.
Taking an extra breath for steadiness, he chose the channel and said, “Tirdal.”
“Ferret,” came the reply. “So you are alive.” Ferret lowered the volume. He had wanted it loud for best hearing of minute details, or any background noise that wasn’t filtered, but the level was interfering with his ability to hear his own environment. In the dark closeness of the trees, his hearing was a prime sense.
“Surprised, Tirdal?” he asked. “You know Dagger’s not really an ally to you. He’s just using you as a convenience to grab all the money for himself.”
Tirdal replied, “As a Darhel, allegedly what you’d call a ‘capitalist,’ I’m amazed at the avarice of humans. Money is a tool one uses to accomplish work. Yet you very often seem to think of it as a status symbol. Just what will you do with half a billion credits, Ferret? Wasn’t potentially thirteen million as a share enough? Especially as it was a fortuitous find rather than an earned development?”
What game was this? “I’m not here for the money, Tirdal. I’m here to see you two assholes dead, and the box in the hands of the Republic’s science bureau.” There was another scuffled weed. He was still on the trail.
“Now, Ferret, that’s just amusing and insulting to my intelligence.”
“How do you figure?” Ferret asked. The alien twerp was disturbing. He exuded a… confidence.