“Xris!” Jamil’s voice, urgent, warning.
Xris swiveled. Corasians, being each single units of one gigantic collective brain, had the ability to communicate with each other instantly. The second Corasian had apparently alerted central control. The door was sliding shut. And once it shut, there was no way to open it from the inside.
Jamil stood in the doorway, prepared to use his body to try to keep the door open. Unfortunately, the metal door was heavy, massive. Jamil wouldn’t be a doorstop very long. He’d be jelly.
Xris fired a second missile at the remaining Corasian. His aim was low; he hit it square in the massive body. The missile exploded on impact, but only cracked the plastisteel case.
Tess was on her feet at his side. She fired her lasgun. The Corasian’s head blew up. The lavalike larva inside the case was still alive, but one of the shots had damaged the case, destroyed the mechanism which allowed the case to open. For the moment, the Corasian was trapped.
And so were Xris and Tess. Laser fire flashed in front of them, lighting up the dark room. The two surviving bodyguards were using the dead Corasian’s broken case for cover, trading shots with Quong, crouched behind a girder, and Tycho, lying flat on the deck. The chameleon was so excessively thin that he was a difficult target, as long as he kept his head down. It looked to be a stalemate. Xris didn’t have time for stalemates.
Harry had added his weight to the fight with the door—he was wedged in tight—and, for the moment, the door was holding. Jamil had disappeared; presumably he’d gone out the door into the corridor. Outside, the red glow was steadily brightening.
More Corasians.
Xris was suddenly very tired.
Why fight it? he asked himself. It would be a whole lot easier on everyone concerned if we just gave up right now.
Tess tugged on his sleeve. Leaning close, she shouted, “The spaceplane! The PRRS! It’s in the docking bay at the end of this corridor!”
He eyed her grimly. “You really work for the Navy?”
“I really do.” She smiled. “You want to see my pension plan?”
“I just want to see you live to collect it. The rest of us included. You say that the plane’s nearby?”
“Not one hundred meters away.”
“You had this all arranged?”
She shook her head. “Not really. I’m making it up as I go along.”
“Great!” Xris grunted. “Well, you haven’t done bad so far. When this is over, remind me to kiss you.”
“It’s a deal.” Tess peered out through the smoke and laser flashes. “My plan only works if we make it to the door. How do we get rid of these two? It looks like they’re figuring on settling down here.”
Xris readjusted his weapons hand to fire a laser. “I’m going to try to circle around behind them. You keep them busy.”
“No, Xris!” Tess said. “They’ll—”
The moment Xris moved, one of the bodyguards looked that direction, shifted his aim, fired.
Xris went down flat, hugging the deck, Tess at his side. The blast took out a chunk of bulkhead behind them.
“—spot you,” Tess finished. “The light reflects off the metal on your arm! To say nothing of those flashing doodads. What about one of those Corasian-killing missiles of yours?”
“I have three left. We’re going to need them once we’re out of there.”
Another blast burst over them. Tess scrunched down. “Times like this, I wish I was flat-chested!” She shook her head. “Look, Xris, if we don’t make it out of here alive, we won’t need those three missiles!”
Xris conceded she had a point. He aimed, was just about to fire when a smothered giggle and a hand on his shoulder interrupted him.
“Excuse me, friend Xris. Don’t shoot.” Raoul, crawling on his hands and knees, was pointing at something in the semidarkness. “But would you look at that? Did you ever see anything so silly? He’s going to get himself killed!” Tears of mirth rolled down the Loti’s cheeks.
Xris looked. The Little One, raincoat flapping around his ankles, had done what Xris was going to do, had circled around behind the two remaining bodyguards. The Little One was visible only intermittently, small body showing up vividly when the laser light flashed, vanishing into the darkness when the light died.
“What the hell—” Tess began. “He’s not even armed.” She started to get up.
“Wait!” Xris caught hold of her arm, pulled her back down. He yelled, hoped the comm would pick up his command. “Tycho! Quong! Fire high! Aim for the ceiling!”
The Little One took up a position directly behind one of the bodyguards. The small figure reached his hand into a pocket of the raincoat, pulled out what appeared to be a stick. He clapped the stick to his mouth.
The bodyguard, intent on his battle, probably never felt a thing. Or, if he did, he might have thought it was a sliver of flying metal from a ricochet burst.
It wasn’t. The bodyguard suddenly ceased firing.
In the next flash of light, Xris could see the man slumped over his gun.
The Little One moved on, creeping up behind the second bodyguard. Quong and Tycho were keeping the guard busy, though he must have been wondering what had happened to their aim, for the laser blasts were now bursting on the overhead, raining down showers of sparks.
The Little One made the same motion—hand to mouth with the same result. The guard lurched forward, head first, toppled over in a heap.
“What Tess was mystified.
“Blowgun. Poisoned darts. Come on!”
Xris jumped to his feet, helped Tess to hers. He took a moment to assess the situation. The only light remaining in the meat locker now was coming from the trapped Corasian, crawling all over the inside of its robotic case. By the red glow, he could see Harry wedged in the door opening, Jamil standing outside, keeping watch on another red glow that was growing in intensity. Tycho and Quong were up and heading for the door. Xris started in that direction, remembered. He turned, reached down, snagged a handful of Raoul, hoisted the Loti to his feet.
“Can you walk?” Xris demanded.
“No,” said Raoul in a lilting voice. “But I can dance.”
“Great! Waltz over to the door! Make it fast or you’re going to be an appetizer.” He shoved Raoul, staggering, in the general direction of the door, waved at the Little One, who was already scurrying back to retrieve his friend.
“Ah!” cried Raoul, and made a dive for something lying on the deck. “My handbag!”
He slung the strap of a dampener rifle over his shoulder.
Having seen Raoul in action on a firing range, Xris’s first thought was to take the gun away. His second—that this would entail a fight. Raoul was very possessive of his purse. Xris let it be.
He joined the rest of the team, gathered around Harry and the door.
“Here’s the plan,” Xris said.
“We have a plan?” Quong was impressed.
“The PRRS is down the corridor, to the left.” Xris looked to Tess for confirmation. She nodded. “About one hundred meters away. When we get out of here, the rest of you make a run for it.” He flourished his weapons hand. “I’ll take care of the rear. Okay, Harry, you can move.”
“Uh, that’s gonna be a problem, Xris,” Harry said, his face glistening with sweat and extremely red. “I’m stuck.”
“Stuck!” Xris swore.
“Could you hurry, Xris?” Harry continued plaintively. “It’s kinda hard for me to breathe.”
“They’re coming, Xris!” Jamil reported from outside in the corridor. “Corasians! I can count ... four, five ... maybe more after that.”
“You can bet there’ll be more after that,” Xris muttered under his breath. “Did you find the controls for the door?”
“Yeah. No luck. I think the door’s jammed.”
Xris put his cybernetic foot against the metal hydraulic door and shoved.
The door was heavy and it wasn’t moving. Harry panted and gasped. A burst of lase
r fire lit the corridor outside. The range was short, but closing rapidly.
“Hand me one of those dampeners!” Jamil called.
Quong passed his through the opening, above Harry’s head. Jamil grabbed it, twisted around, opened fire. He wasn’t aiming at the Corasians, he was aiming at the supports of a large piece of metal ductwork on the ceiling.
Xris braced his back against the wall, planted his foot against the door, and, drawing on all his reserves, battery-powered and flesh and blood, he shoved. The door held a moment, then gave way, sliding on its track so suddenly that Xris landed on his back.
Harry, with a groan, staggered out the door. Quong caught him, supported him. Tycho dove through, gun blasting, kept Jamil covered. He blasted away at the ductwork.
The ductwork sagged, dropped at one end. Another few rounds, and it fell, crashing to the deck, blocking the corridor between them and the Corasians. Xris regained his feet.
“Go! Go!” he shouted. “I’ve got the Little One!” He scooped the empath up under his right arm. “Follow Tess!”
Tess ran for the end of the corridor, yelling and flashing her nuke lamp so that they could see her in the darkness. Harry waved off Quong’s assistance and broke into a run. Quong grabbed hold of Raoul, who was doing the tango, and hauled him along. Tycho and Jamil fired one more burst each, then they took off, racing toward the docking bay.
The Corasians were momentarily halted by the fallen duct, but their robotic arms were already grappling with it, shoving it aside. Xris fired one of his special missiles into their ranks. He heard it explode, didn’t wait around to see the results. The red glow grew appreciably dimmer, however.
He dashed down the corridor. The Corasians fired after him, but they appeared more intent on removing the ductwork. Xris hung on to the Little One, who was clutching his fedora with both hands, and followed the gleam of Tess’s nuke lamp. The rest of the group had disappeared inside the docking bay, were probably already climbing aboard the PRRS.
“By God,” Xris said to himself, “we might just actually make it!”
He hurtled through the docking bay door, ran headlong into the rest of the team, who were bunched up together in the opening.
“What’s going on?” he demanded. “Why the hell aren’t you on board?”
“On board what?” Tycho’s translator screeched.
“There’s nothing here, Xris,” Harry said.
“She lied.” Jamil was grim.
“And we are nicely caught in a cul-de-sac,” Quong added.
“I want you all to know that I am not the least bit amused. I don’t find this at all funny!” Raoul burst into noisy, gulping sobs.
Xris activated the nuke lamp on his arm. flashed it around the docking bay.
Empty. Not a spaceplane in sight.
Chapter 42
Make strategic plans for encircled terrain.
Sun-tzu, The Art of War
Xris dropped the Little One.
“Tycho. You and Jamil cover the door.”
Behind him, he could hear the ductwork barricade scraping across the deck. Xris grabbed the nuke lamp from Tess’s unresisting hand, shone the light full on her.
“I swear, Xris! I swear—the PRRS was here! It should still be here! I left Jeffrey Grant on board and—” Tess stopped, put her hand over her mouth. Her eyes grew wide. “Oh, dear God! Grant! He stole the plane!”
“Again?” Harry shook his head. “That man’s a menace.”
“Xris, they’re coming!” Jamil shouted.
Xris shut off the glaring white light, tried to think. There had to be another way....
“Harsch’s plane,” he said. “He had a plane, didn’t he? He didn’t walk on board.”
“Yes!” Tess clutched at him, nearly knocking him off balance. “Yes! Harsch flew here in a Scimitar! I know where—a level above! There’s an access from here, the maintenance door!”
Xris switched on the nuke lamp, flashed it around, shone it on a crude lift.
“We can use that!” Tess said. “Come on—”
She started off.
Xris stopped her. “Why the devil should I trust you?”
“No reason,” ‘less answered softly. “None at all. Except ...”
She didn’t finish, looked back out the door where Jamil and Tycho crouched, firing down the corridor.
Except Xris filled in the blank—you don’t have a whole hell of a lot of choice.
He started to give the command to move out.
Something large and metal clunked on the deck.
“Take cover!” Xris roared. He threw Tess away from him, literally picking her up and tossing her as far as he could before he hit the deck.
The explosion was brilliant, blinding, deafening, numbing. It lifted him up off the deck, slammed him down again hard. Shrapnel flew through the air. A thin, piercing scream tore into his head, hurt worse than the bits of metal slicing through his flesh.
And then everything was dark and silent, except for a terrible bubbling sound and, from somewhere else, a groan.
Xris shook off the concussive force of the blast, heaved himself to his feet. A stabbing beam of light aimed at nothing in particular. The nuke lamp Tess had been holding lay on the deck a few centimeters from Xris’s hand. He bent over to pick it up, nearly passed out. lie staggered, steadied himself, tried again.
Retrieving the light, he flashed it around, searching for Tess. He found her. She was on her hands and knees, shaking her head muzzily. But she was alive. He continued searching. The bubbling sound had ceased. The groaning continued. And out in the corridor, the red glow pulsed brightly.
Xris stood in the door to the docking bay, aimed at the glow, fired another missile. One left.
The missile hit one of the Corasians standing in the center of the group. Perhaps that Corasian had been carrying more grenades, because the resulting blast was far greater than it should have been. The red glow flickered and died. The corridor was dark.
But there were more Corasians. Once they found out that people were still alive down here, there would be lots more.
“Report in!” Xris gasped. He licked his lips and tasted blood. He could still hear, in his memory, that shrill scream. “Who’s hurt?”
“Xris! Bring the light! Over here!”
Xris picked his way through the debris left by the explosion. He found Jamil lying propped up against the bulkhead, one leg stretched out in front of him, a pool of blood beneath. Xris played the light on his friend’s face.
“You okay?”
Jamil’s face glistened; he nodded, said, “Not me, Xris. Not me.” His eyes shifted.
Xris followed with the light. “Bloody hell!” he whispered. “Damn it all to bloody hell.”
He crouched down, reached for Tycho’s wrist, but he knew he’d feel nothing. Not with a wound like that. He held on to Tycho’s thin-fingered hand—about the only part of Tycho that was intact—and yelled savagely, “Doc!”
He heard a crash, a curse, and Bill Quong’s cool voice. “Hold the light so that I can see, my friend. I will do you no good stumbling around blind.”
Xris held the light, not sorry to move it from the bloody mass that was all that was left of Tycho.
“You hurt bad?” Xris asked Jamil.
“Shrapnel tore through my leg. I won’t be running the marathon anytime soon, but I can walk. You?”
Xris looked down. The sleeve covering his good arm was torn and bloody. He couldn’t feel anything, for the moment.
“I’m okay. If we have company, keep them occupied.”
Grunting, Jamil twisted around to lie flat on his belly, the dampener rifle held in front of him.
“It was a grenade,” he said.
“Yeah,” Xris responded, holding the light steady. He could see Quong moving about in the darkness, could see Tess pausing beside Raoul. “We were lucky. Whatever that machine is over there contained most of the blast.”
“Tycho wasn’t lucky,” Jamil said. “Str
auss led us in here. She led us into a trap.”
“I keep hearing voices,” Raoul was saying querulously. “Someone’s talking inside my head. And this small and unknown personage in a raincoat keeps hugging me.” He paused a moment, then demanded loudly, “Where am I? What am I doing here? Why can’t I remember my name?”
“Amnesia,” Quong said, making his way to Xris. “He was hit in the head. We can only hope it is temporary.”
Xris sighed inwardly. Raoul’s mind was like a butterfly net at the best of times. Now the net was cut and the butterflies were fluttering about loose. God only knew where they’d land.
Quong took the nuke lamp from Xris’s hand, played the beam over Tycho’s body, shook his head. “There is nothing I can do, Xris. Our friend never knew what hit him. The blast caught him from behind, as you can see.”
No, Xris couldn’t. There wasn’t enough of Tycho left to tell his front from his back.
“Thanks, Doc. Do what you can for Jamil. And where the devil’s Harry?”
“Here, Xris,” came Harry’s aggrieved voice.
“You hurt?”
“I got hit in the ass. It feels like I’m on fire back there!”
“Just as long as it doesn’t interrupt your mental processes.”
“No, Xris,” Harry returned. “I said I got hit in the ass.”
“That’s what I meant. Doc, how’s Jamil? Can he walk?”
“The calf muscle is torn. He has lost a lot of blood, will be in considerable pain, and he will need assistance. If I had my med kit—”
“If you had your med kit, we’d be on the PRRS and Tycho wouldn’t be dead and we wouldn’t be trapped like rats on this motherfu—” Xris stopped, sucked in a deep breath. Reaching into his pocket for a twist, he noticed his hand was shaking. He pulled himself together, thrust the twist into his mouth. “Sorry, folks. Jamil, you see anything?”
“Red light. Getting brighter.”
“They’ve figured out we’re still alive and kicking.
Most of us, anyway. Harry, you help Jamil. Get him up and mobile.”
“Who are you people?” That was Raoul, irritable. “Why have you brought me to this awful place? And why don’t any of you know who I am?”
Robot Blues Page 37
