The Crimson Claw

by Deborah Chester

  The room fell deathly quiet. Glaring, Sollusk pointed his side arm right at Elrabin’s face.

  “You so smart,” the Reject said, “how come you’re here, wanting my help? Why don’t you go break in Vess Vaas all by yourself?”

  Defeat burned inside Elrabin. It took all he had to swallow it, to accept it. He didn’t beg. His pride hurt too much for that. “Sure,” he said, swiveling his ears. “Guess you too busy to go out and take easy pickings. So I’ll go alone. So thanks for nothing.”

  He tried to twist free of the Kelths and go, but they held him fast. Elrabin snapped at them, nipping an ear and getting himself knocked against the head.

  His hearing rang, and everything swam around him momentarily. When his senses cleared, he found himself flat on the dirty floor with someone’s foot planted in the center of his back.

  “Good idea you brought me,” Sollusk said. “Maybe I’ll use it. Maybe I won’t. Either way, we don’t need you.”

  Elrabin panted, too angry to be afraid now. “Yeah, you do. ’Cause I can pick the locks and run you past the security slick, see? Otherwise, you going to have an automatic alarm bringing out the army.”

  Sollusk said nothing, but finally the foot came off Elrabin’s back, letting him up.

  He scrambled to his feet, dusting off his coat. “So what’s it to be? We got a deal?”

  Sollusk flicked out his tongue. “Deal,” he said without enthusiasm. “But hear this. If we don’t get in or there’s nothing out there worth our trouble, then your hide, furred one, will make me a winter coat.”

  Elrabin’s ears swiveled, and fresh doubts filled him. He was gambling plenty on the unknown, all right, but as he’d once told Ampris, the risk made the gamble worthwhile. Now he was about to put that to the test.

  Masking his fear, he met Sollusk’s cold Viis eyes and drew a deep breath. “So let’s get to it,” he said.

  CHAPTER•EIGHTEEN

  Ampris moved slowly along the corridor outside the offices, making steady swaths with the floor polisher. Its engine hummed loudly, clanking each time she made the return sweep. On the opposite side of the corridor, a trio of techs emerged from their offices, talking about their Festival plans. As Ampris had guessed, the whole staff had been given leave to spend Festival in Lazmairehl or elsewhere, if they could afford shuttle travel to one of the larger cities. All experiments had been suspended, and Ehssk had already departed the facility earlier that day, bound for parties with the noble and influential in Vir.

  While Ampris regretted his departure, for it meant she would not get the chance to sink her teeth into his throat, she put her own desire for revenge aside for the larger good. Besides, ripping out the throat of one evil Viis was less of a blow than destroying the premier research lab on Viisymel. All of Ehssk’s work—his notes, the records of years of research—would be wiped away. And someday, if Fate was kind, she would once again meet him face-to-face to kill the murderer of her daughter.

  She bared her teeth, growling softly to herself, and made her way toward the end of the corridor, unnoticed by the techs who casually tapped security codes on the keypads of their office doors and walked away. Ampris pretended to keep her attention on her work, but from the corner of her eye she saw that they used minimal security codes only. The full security required tapping in eighteen numbers, but it was considered too much bother by everyone on the staff except Ehssk himself.

  Ampris went on sweeping the polisher back and forth, moving slowly and steadily. By the time the techs were out of sight, she had reached the far end of the office corridor. She stopped outside the door to a small janitor closet. Matiril had promised to pick the lock to it earlier during his chores. They knew none of the Viis ever bothered to check it. Niruo was unlikely to come this way, since his presence in the office area was frowned on by the Viis staff.

  She glanced back, then reached out and pushed on the door. It swung open. Swiftly, Ampris darted inside. She looked around. The closet was cramped, dirty, and dark. A rusted, dripping water pipe stained the wall and floor. Outside, a bell rang in the corridor, and Ampris jumped violently. She was running out of time. That was the end-of-shift bell. If she didn’t show up promptly, Niruo would get suspicious and come looking for her.

  But where was the gas pipe? According to the lab construction schematics which Robuhl had found, the pipe was supposed to go through this closet. So where was it?

  Growling to herself, her heart thudding against her ribs, Ampris shifted a stack of boxes aside, and there it was, running along the floor. Painted white, the pipe was equal in diameter to the length of her hand. Its contents were deadly. Fear rippled through her, but she mastered it. She had volunteered to take this risk, knowing she was the most qualified for the job.

  Picking up the water bolt wrench which Matiril had slipped from the maintenance bin and left inside the closet, she hefted it in her hand, finding its balance and weight similar to a glevritar’s. Bracing her feet, she swung it up and over, bringing it down on the gas pipe with a resounding clang.

  The pipe seemed unaffected. Ampris swore under her breath, beginning to sweat beneath her fur, and lifted the wrench again.

  “Stop!” a harsh, unfamiliar voice commanded her.

  Startled, Ampris spun around with the wrench held upraised in her hands and found herself face-to-face with a Zrhel female. A pair of fierce, keen eyes glared at her above a vicious beak, parted now in aggression. The Zrhel’s head was covered with tiny gray feathers edged in black in a beautiful pattern. But right now, Ampris didn’t care what she looked like, only what she intended to do.

  “What do you want?” Ampris demanded. “You have no business here.”

  The Zrhel held her ground. “You’re the Aaroun, the one called Ampris.”

  Aware of passing time, Ampris backed her ears. “What of it?”

  “Don’t hit the zeron pipe again,” the Zrhel said.

  A chill sank through Ampris. Were the Zrheli going to betray them? “I’m just putting this tool away,” she said, hefting the wrench in her hands.

  But the Zrhel’s gaze took in the scattered boxes and the dent in the pipe. “That is a water bolt wrench, size twelve,” she said. “It belongs on rack three, left side, of the maintenance bin in—”

  “Forget it,” Ampris said gruffly. “I have work to do. Why aren’t you locked up in your rookery, where you belong?”

  “You will not do this, Ampris,” the Zrhel said, tilting her head. One of her feathers drifted to the floor. “You are making a serious mistake.”

  “I don’t know what you—”

  “Stop it!” the Zrhel squawked furiously. “We know the plan. We monitor the surveillance lines when it suits us. The Viis never do.”

  Ampris opened her mouth in dismay, then closed it again. She stayed silent.

  “Listen. This is an auxiliary line. If you break it, you will succeed only in flooding this wing with radiation. It will be sealed off from the rest of the lab, and you will have accomplished nothing. A more efficient strategy would be to tamper with the main power reactor located behind Building Three.”

  Unsure if this was advice or criticism, Ampris said slowly, “That’s outside. I can’t get to it.”

  “No, and you would not know what to do if you were there.”

  “Can you reach it?”

  The Zrhel hesitated, then tipped back her head to rub it against her hunched shoulders. “No.”

  Ampris lifted the wrench. “Then this is all that I can do.”

  “No! Are you stupid? I have explained the fallacy of this procedure to you.”

  “What do you recommend?” Ampris asked impatiently. “There’s no time to formulate another plan—”

  “Why did you send the message to us?” the Zrhel interrupted with a sudden change of subject.

  Understanding swept over Ampris. Over the others’ objections, she had sent a cryptic message to the Zrheli engineers, advising them to seek escape at the first indication of trouble.


  “You betrayed yourself,” the Zrhel said. “Why?”

  “Abiru folk should help each other. I’m not out to destroy innocent lives.”

  “Why not? You were an arena butcher.”

  The insult stung. Ampris snarled. “Not by choice.”

  “There is always a choice,” the Zrhel said, fanaticism gleaming in her eyes.

  “I don’t like suicide as a solution,” Ampris told her.

  “It is the Zrheli way. It is the Zrheli belief.”

  Ampris rolled her eyes. “Fine. Your beliefs are okay for you, but not for me. At least I warned you. Now go, and let me do what I’m here to do.”

  The Zrhel edged closer. “I do not understand,” she said. “One of my kind injured you. There is a direct correlation between that action and your presence here. Correct?”

  Ampris narrowed her eyes to slits, not liking this conversation at all. But short of braining the Zrhel with the wrench, she saw no way to get rid of her. “Yes, that’s correct,” she said with a growl.

  “You should hate all Zrheli for this.”

  Without realizing it, Ampris’s hand reached up and curled around the Eye of Clarity that she still wore. “Maybe I should,” she replied. “But you had nothing to do with what happened in the arena on Shrazhak Ohr. You weren’t the Zrhel that attacked me. He was defending himself the best way he could. I didn’t want to kill him like that, so I was careless.” She shrugged, the memories churning unpleasantly inside her. “I will hate what he did to me until I die. I hate not being able to move like I once did. I hate the constant pain. I hate being weak. But why should I hate you?”

  “The philosophy of Ampris,” the Zrhel muttered, looking unimpressed by her statement. “You have spread much sedition in your Freedom Network. What good does it do?”

  “Why do you ask me that?” Ampris replied in exasperation. “You and your kind keep sabotaging the repair efforts for the jump gate to Ruu-one-one-three. What good does that do?”

  The Zrhel whistled in outrage, parting her beak. Ampris backed up a step, but no more than that. She kept her eyes cautiously on the Zrhel, prepared to defend herself if necessary.

  “Ruu-one-one-three is sacred to us!” the engineer said vehemently, extending her arms and opening her talons. “All Zrheli are sworn to protect it to the death. While one Zrhel still lives and breathes, no Viis will set foot on it. It is a place of hope and beauty, not to be looted by Viis greed.”

  “I see,” Ampris said thoughtfully. “This explains much to me. Before, I could never really understand why your people would die just to thwart the Viis’ plans. Was it your homeworld?”

  “No,” the Zrhel said, her voice still hot. “But sacred.”

  Ampris sighed, relinquishing her dream. “Then it isn’t the solution I was looking for.”

  “What solution? Explain.”

  “Oh, I thought it might be a place for the homeless abiru to settle on one day. Folk like Aarouns and Kelths, who no longer have a habitable homeworld to return to.”

  “Gorlicans have no world. You let them live with you too?” the Zrhel asked scornfully.

  “Why not? A planet is a large place. There would be room for everyone.”

  “And who would rule? Which race would lead? Your race?”

  Ampris backed her ears. “Aarouns are no better than the others. Why not incorporate the talents of all the sentient races for the common good? Myals are thinkers and organizers. Aarouns are builders. Kelths are—”

  “Kelths are thieves and troublemakers. Hah!” the Zrhel said in contempt. She belched and dropped more feathers. “Utopia is a dream for fools.”

  “I agree,” Ampris said. “Utopias never work. We would start out with good intentions, then personalities would clash and there would be conflict and problems. But it would still be better than Viis oppression.”

  The Zrhel’s eyes softened and she tilted her head. “You make an excellent point.”

  Outside, the second warning bell rang. Ampris growled. “I’m out of time. I have to—”

  “Wait,” the Zrhel said. “It was necessary to see you for myself before I could reach a decision. The solution you seek is to open a valve to the main line. The sudden pressure drop will trigger a reactor failure strong enough to activate the alarm system.”

  “Thank you!” Ampris said in gratitude. “Where do I find the valve?”

  “You cannot,” the Zrhel told her. “Such a valve is in our section. We know how to open it, but it is too complex a procedure for you.”

  Annoyed and increasingly desperate, Ampris started to argue, but she knew that would be futile. “Will you do this for us?” she asked. “Can your people get out in time?”

  The Zrhel stared at her and did not answer.

  “Is there a way simply to fool the alarm system, to trigger it without releasing the gas?” Ampris asked.

  “It was your plan to destroy this lab,” the Zrhel said. “Why do you change now?”

  “I want this place blown to bits,” Ampris said angrily, baring her teeth. “But not at the unnecessary cost of lives—”

  “Even an arena butcher should know how to pay the cost,” the Zrhel told her. “You are a strange one, Ampris.”

  “Will you—”

  A distant sound made Ampris’s ears snap forward. She listened, then swore to herself. “Niruo is coming. I have no more time.”

  The Zrhel stepped to one side, and Ampris had to brush past her to exit the closet. She did so, tensed and expectant, but the Zrhel did not attack her. Ampris leaned down and left the wrench in a corner.

  She gave the Zrhel a searching look, wishing she could be sure the engineer was trustworthy. “If you decide to help us, thank you.” The words seemed inadequate, but she could find no others.

  A door slammed. She heard footsteps coming behind her.

  Ampris lurched around, shutting the janitor closet and lifting her floor sweeper just as Niruo came into sight.

  His yellow eyes narrowed with suspicion and he trotted toward her. “Ampris! Are you deaf? Both bells have sounded. What have you been doing? That closet is off limits to you.”

  Ampris stepped aside, attempting to walk away, but Niruo tried the closet door. Her heart froze inside her, but the door did not budge.

  He grunted. “Good thing this is kept locked. You’re always trying to steal something for your cubs. Hurry! Get your equipment put up now. The techs can’t leave the lab until everyone is secured, and they’re furious at having to wait.”

  Ampris concealed her relief and moved along as fast as her crippled leg would allow. She was panting and damp from nerves. Worse, she wasn’t sure whether the Zrhel would really help her or not. Have some trust, Ampris told herself. But she was worried about depending on someone unknown and semihostile.

  Niruo seemed too angry to notice her distraction. He hustled her along, swore at her while she shoved the sweeper into its correct bin, failed to observe that she didn’t empty its tank of cleaner to avoid damaging it, and shoved her back to the inmate wing.

  She’d barely stepped through the doorway before he wheeled around and headed away at a trot. “Everyone accounted for and secured!” he shouted.

  Ampris peered through the window in the doors as he hurried into the main section of the lab, calling out his tally and wishing the departing techs a happy Festival.

  Meanwhile, Ampris could hardly dare believe her luck, or his carelessness. No doubt he thought she would simply walk down the row to her cage, where her cubs waited, reared up with their slender hands clutching the wire. But Ampris acted quickly. She went along the row of cages, pulling out the locking pins on everyone’s door, then entered her own cage.

  “Mama, Mama,” her cubs called to her, gripping her legs and butting their flat, naked faces against her with affection.

  She smiled and scooped them up in her arms, licking their faces and ears to make them laugh. Foloth was the more affectionate of the two. He entwined his little arms around her neck and nuzzle
d her.

  “Mama,” he said. “Smell strange.”

  “Do I, sweetness?” she asked breathlessly, still aware that her heart was thumping too fast. “I’m sorry. There wasn’t time to wash my fur before I came back.”

  Nashmarl butted his head against her cheek, trying to growl. “Me first!” he declared.

  She stroked him soothingly. He was always so quick to get jealous, so constantly desperate for her attention.

  “Did you grow today?” she asked him, knowing the question always made him puff out his little chest.

  He nodded vehemently. “Me bigger than Foloth.”

  “Not!” Foloth said at once.

  She jostled them gently in her arms to distract them from the quarrel, loving them so much it was an ache in her throat.

  Nashmarl squirmed to get down. The moment she put him on the floor, he dropped to all fours and crawled rapidly across the cage to the rear corner. Gripping the ball she had made for them from some rags crudely wadded together and tied with twine, Nashmarl tossed it in the air and tried to catch it.

  Foloth plucked at Ampris’s arm. “Me down, Mama. Down!”

  “All right, but just for a moment,” she said, lowering him to the floor.

  Tense with anticipation, she watched her cubs with only half her attention, glancing constantly at the doors.

  Foloth, not as fast or as agile as Nashmarl, crawled to his brother and tried to pick up the ball. Growling, Nashmarl butted him hard in the side with his head, knocking Foloth over.

  At once Foloth wailed, and Ampris had to pull them apart. While she was soothing Foloth and trying to correct Nashmarl, the doors opened.

  Niruo came through, his eyes burning above an ugly welt across his muzzle. He glared at them all, but they stood quietly in their cages. Ampris had coached them to offer him nothing to pick on tonight.

  “What happened to your face?” Matiril asked, unable to keep quiet. “Little farewell caress from our Viis masters?”

  Niruo’s ears flattened to his skull, and he bared his rotting teeth. “I’m in charge!” he announced. “You all dependent on my care until Festival is over, so mind your ways.”