When Ruiz had emptied every hiding place on Marmo’s chassis and stowed the useful gear in his own pockets, he returned to Nisa’s couch. She showed no sign of waking. He strapped her to the couch, to prevent her from injuring herself should she try to rise before her equilibrium returned.
Ruiz walked down the ramp, carrying the splinter gun and Marmo’s power cell. The other prisoners sat by their tents, eyes wide in the light that spilled from the boat. Ruiz smiled at Dolmaero, gave Flomel a hard look, nodded at Molnekh. Kroel made a whimpering sound and scurried into his tent.
“Things have changed,” Ruiz said. He threw the power cell far out into the darkness.
Flomel got painfully to his feet. “How so?” he demanded. “What terrible thing have you done? I’ve heard all about you and your murderous ways. If you’ve harmed any of the Lady’s employees, you’ll regret it.”
In spite of himself, Ruiz was astonished. “You are an idiot, Flomel. What did you imagine yourself to be? One of her ‘employees’? You were her slave, a piece of property.”
“You’re a liar,” Flomel snarled. “You’ll suffer for this, oh yes.”
Ruiz saw that reason would be wasted on the mage. He sighed and raised the controller. Flomel’s eyes bulged. He fell back, raised his hands defensively.
Dolmaero stood up. “Ruiz, wait,” he said. “Master Flomel is a fool, but should he die for that? If we kill all the fools, who’d be left?”
Flomel shot a malevolent look at Dolmaero, and Ruiz thought, Flomel won’t thank him for that.
Ruiz touched the yellow button by Flomel’s color code, and the mage dropped unconscious. “He’ll live, so I imagine,” Ruiz said. “But I’ll get some use out of him. I think I have the antidote to the collar anesthesia; I’ll experiment with him before I try it on Nisa.”
He went to Dolmaero, pressed the collar key to his neck. The collar dropped away. Dolmaero rubbed his throat thoughtfully. “How did you manage this? I’m impressed beyond words.”
“Banessa’s dead, and the half-man disabled. I’ll tell you about it later.” Ruiz looked at Molnekh. “Molnekh, I must ask you: Will you do as I tell you, if I release you?”
Molnekh smiled nervously. “I assume that my other choice is to remain here until the Lady arrives.”
“No, I won’t leave you here. Sook has an interesting variety of predators; without the ruptor, they’d soon have you for dinner. I won’t even leave Flomel, but I’ll have to lock him in the hold.”
The thin mage blinked. “You’re not so bloodthirsty as we’ve been told. In any case, I have no desire to meet the Lady again; she’ll be put out by these events, I suspect. Lead on.”
Ruiz released him from his collar. “Thank you,” Molnekh said.
“You’re welcome,” Ruiz said. “But what about Kroel? Is he capable of acting rationally?”
Molnekh pursed his lips. “I’m unwilling to venture a guess. What do you think, Guildmaster? You’re well known to be a good judge in such matters.”
Dolmaero scratched his head. “I don’t know. Master Kroel has an inflexible and brittle mind, and under these circumstances… I don’t think I’d put much trust in him.”
“Then for the time being, we’ll leave the collar on him. What of Flomel? Can logic penetrate his skull?”
Dolmaero looked at the sprawled mage. “Flomel is an intelligent man, if not a very pleasant one. He may listen. By the way, where is the woman-man?”
“Dead, in my tent.”
Dolmaero raised a quizzical eyebrow, but asked no more questions.
Dolmaero and Molnekh carried the slumbering Flomel into the hold, still collared. He snored vigorously.
“Do you think you can fetch Kroel?” Ruiz asked Molnekh.
“I’ll try.”
“Here’s the leash key,” Ruiz said, retrieving it from Nisa’s tent. “We’ll leave the collar for a bit.”
Ruiz watched from the top of the ramp while the skinny mage squatted by the opening to Kroel’s tent and talked to Kroel. After a few minutes, Kroel came forth, moving uncertainly, leaning on Molnekh’s frail shoulder.
Molnekh helped Kroel into the hold, murmuring reassurances. Kroel sat heavily on the bench, staring at the floor.
“Master Kroel,” Ruiz said. “Give me your attention, please.” The mage nodded without raising his eyes. “Things have changed, it’s true, but for the better. I promise you this.”
Kroel nodded again, a childlike bobbing of the head, incongruous in such a burly man.
Dolmaero touched Ruiz’s back, where blood from the splinter wounds soaked the cloth. “You’re injured,” he said.
Ruiz winced. “It’s not bad. But if you’d be kind enough to pick the splinters out, I’d thank you.”
Dolmaero smiled. “That much I can probably do.” Ruiz located a med kit, let down the top of his overalls. Dolmaero doctored him quite gently. When he was finished, and Ruiz’s wounds were covered with patches of pseudoskin, Dolmaero spoke with courteous curiosity. “I would have expected a man such as yourself to have more scars.”
Ruiz smiled, clapped Dolmaero on the shoulder. “I keep my scars on the inside, where they belong.”
Ruiz brought out the skinpopper, pressed it to Flomel’s neck. The mage jerked when Ruiz triggered the popper, and then his eyes flew open. He struggled to rise, spluttered in impotent rage.
“Shut up,” Ruiz said sharply. “Keep silent and listen, or I’ll put you under again. You’re no longer in charge.”
Flomel’s face froze, and his eyes burned. But he clamped his mouth shut.
Ruiz sighed. “All right. Listen, all of you. You’ve surely guessed that Corean is a slaver. Her plan was to make you perform for an audience of bidders. I’ll tell you this: The phoenix troupes of Pharaoh bring a high price on the pangalac market — she’d have made a tidy sum from you.”
Dolmaero spoke. “Why are you here, Ruiz? You’re not of Pharaoh.”
Ruiz lied automatically. “An accident. I was a tourist on Pharaoh; I was as surprised as any of you when we were snatched up.”
Dolmaero rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “What of Master Flomel’s story? That you jumped onto the stage just before we were taken?”
“Yes,” Molnekh said. “I saw you, too.”
Stop underestimating Dolmaero, Ruiz thought. He improvised. “I was just trying to get a good picture. With my camera — a picture-making machine all tourists carry. I tripped. But none of this is important now. Now we have to decide what we must do.”
“What can we do?” Dolmaero asked.
“Sensible question. First, there is a large corpse to be removed from one of the cabins. Then I’ll see to reviving Nisa. Then we’ll examine the boat and see if we can control it.”
They left Kroel huddled in the hold, secured to the bench. Flomel followed a few paces behind, as if fearing to be associated with the others. At Banessa’s door, Ruiz paused. “There’s an ugly sight inside. But we’ve got to get her out; she’d make an intolerable stink after a few days, if we had to leave her in there.”
He pushed open the door. The giantess lay on the bunk, face black, legs spraddled.
“It won’t be easy,” Dolmaero said. “She must weigh two hundred kilos. How did you manage to overcome her?”
Ruiz shook his head, unwilling to provide details. “Surprise. Now roll her out of the bunk, and we’ll see if we can drag her.”