Elmas Ofka thought a moment, then took the isyas back around several corners until she came to a branching tunnel. Eyes on the spotter, she turned into it and began picking her way to a point equivalent to where she'd been; twice the spotter jumped, twice Lirrit Ofka went ahead and darted the unlucky wanderer, then Elmas Ofka rounded a bend and saw the end of the tunnel; beyond that there was what looked like a vast open s.p.a.ce. After signaling Lirrit Ofka andhalf the isyas to wait, she led the other three toward the opening, keeping close to the wall, moving warily, ready to dart anything that popped into the arch.

She dropped to her knees and eased her head past the edge.

The room beyond was immense; the ceiling was three levels up, aboveground, with a series of slim horizontal windows circling just below it, windows with one-way gla.s.s in them, black now because of the fog and clouds. The floor was another level below where she knelt; it was laid with black and white tiles in a swirling pattern that made her dizzy when she shifted her eyes too quickly.

At the north wall there were several tiers of theater seats with a separate thronechair for the Imperator; at the south end, near where she was, a large curved screen, blindingly white, took up part of the wall; in the s.p.a.ce it left there were three inconspicuous doors, one to the east of the screen and two on the west. A guard stumped back and forth in front of the single door, the sc.r.a.pe of his footsteps loud enough to send her heart knocking in her throat.

She frowned; the chamber was filled with shadows, except near the screen which seemed to gather in and amplify what light there was. Nothing moved except the guard. Why was he still moving? Was he beyond the range of the alien's weapons? They were at least ten yards closer to him than she was. Did they have to be almost on the man before they could take him out? Why were they waiting? What did they expect to happen? She glanced down at the spotter, stared at it, startled; there were two spikes on the line, not one. She shifted it slowly back and forth, watching the spikes shift. Something else was out there, something closing on the guard. She moved her eyes slowly over that dizzying floor; whatever it was, she couldn't see it, no matter how hard she searched. She looked at the scanner. The two spikes had nearly converged.

A section of floor reared up. She heard a hum like an angry bee. The guard dropped. There was a short whistle, then a small alien with brownish fur was standing over the guard's body, waiting.

First the video room (that's what it looked like, giant size), then the operations cell of the mainBrain.

We parked the miniskips on the stage, out of sight behind some low railings and got into the subterra with almost no difficulty. Adelaar had sense enough not to argue and let Pels take the lead, she'd seen a little of his work on Weersyll; besides, she was carrying a heavy pack she cherished like a child, her tools. I had a launch tube slung across my back and half a dozen clips for it in a pouch on my belt; the darts in the clips were loaded with bang juice strong enough to take out a wall if the need arose. Portable back door, you might say. Pels was in huntmode and harder to see than a black ship in the CoalSack. Shadow made him a special stunner, one small enough for him to carry in his mouth; he had it in his fist now and used it whenever he came on a guard we couldn't avoid or some idiot with weak kidneys heading for the can. There weren't many of them, thank whatever. It was late and most sensible folk were sleeping.

I was navigator, reading the chart, calling the turns, laying on rubwhite to guide us should we come back this way when the job was done. I shot it up near where the ceiling met the wall, where not many people would notice it.

We didn't have much trouble; Pels laid out half a dozen, I shoved them against the wall and on we went. Boring, eh? If you plan right, that's the way it should be. You don't want interesting experiences at a time like this. We used about fifteen minutes reaching the place k.u.mari took one look at and called the video room. Then we waited while Pels sneaked up on the guard. It was slow and tedious, nothing we could do but watch our backs and sweat out the computer's reaction time; some of the men Pels blanked had to be guards, at least one had to have missed a check-in by now, maybe even two checks if our Luck went sour on us. We were counting on redundancy; there's no gadget made by man or G.o.d that's foolproof, you have to include some sort of back check to make sure an idiot particle hasn't wandered where it shouldn't.Stunner hidden in his mouth, Pels eeled forward on toes and elbows, his fur mimicking the pattern of the tiles; if you were as high as we were and you knew what to look for, you could find him; the floor would shift a little as if something moved a lens across it. But if you were down there walking a tedious stint like that guard, you'd most likely never see him until he had you.

As Pels got closer, the guard's nervousness increased. He kept looking around, snapping and unsnapping the flap of his holster, pacing jerkily about, wheeling and glaring at each whisper of sound. Pels changed his technique. He moved and froze, moved and froze, timing his progress to the jitters of the guard; the operating range of that stunner was just under two meters so he had to be very close before he could trigger it and hope to do the job.

Before he went down, Pels got a good look at the man. "Fiveworlder," he said.

"Looks like the local biga.s.s has brought some muggers home from exile; I suppose he feels safer with gits like that keeping the crawlers off his back."

Squat and powerful, sniffing trouble even if he couldn't see it, the Fiver swung his head back and forth as if questing for a scent. He was good all right, I wouldn't want to be the one to take him, but he'd never gone up against an Aurranger Rau in huntmode. Pels got him going away, laid him out like butcher's meat.

Adelaar and I sprinted along the ramp that led down from our tunnel, moving like the devils in h.e.l.l were chasing us. We got the door open and she went to work; she'd spent some time over what the EYEs had told her about the system, so she needed about thirty seconds to put a hold on the alarms. Pels and I nosed about. The place looked empty, but we weren't taking chances, we checked every shadow. There was no one about, no techs or guards, just the interface ticking over by itself. When we got out front again, Adelaar'd begun the tedious process of switching the instructions of the alarm system. I could see it wasn't all that difficult, she was clucking and snorting as she worked, scorn oozing from every pore. Watching her was about as interesting as watching gra.s.s grow, so I went to help Pels carry the guard inside.

We'd just dropped him behind a bench when the door slammed open.

"Don't move."

Pels and I froze; there was a load of menace in that whispery female voice. I took a chance and turned my head. Seven more females in black with knitted black socks over their faces followed the first through the door, spreading out so they could keep their weapons on us from half a dozen directions.

Definitely not authorized personnel. The wormholes were having a busy night.

"Can I straighten up?" I said, as mildly as I could manage. "I'm getting a crick in my back."

The leader used her free hand to tap twice at her weapon. "The darts these shoot don't stun," she said, "they kill." The look in her eyes which was all I could see of her face said don't push it, I like you about as much as a bad smell. "Three seconds for a man your size. Less for your friend." She thought that over a moment. "Probably less. Keep that in mind. Get yourself straight.

Slow and easy. That's right. Now. Both of you. Step over that bench and flatten your backs against the wall. That's good." She glanced at Adelaar who hadn't been interested enough to look around and see what was happening.

"What're you doing?"

"Don't bother me," Adelaar snapped; hands briefly stilled, she scowled over her shoulder at the speaker. "Unless you want a load of trouble landing on your necks."

"Talk as you work."

"No." Adelaar turned back to the board and went on with what she'd been doing.

I didn't like the way that conversation was going. Adelaar had no intention of being reasonable, especially since she was right; what she was doing was more important than this woman's curiosity. However, I was fairly sure the woman wouldn't see it that way. "Uh," I said, "I can tell you in general terms what's going on. She's not playing games with you, you'd better let herconcentrate on what she's doing; it can get touchy, changing the rules on an alarm system that complex."

The woman's eyes switched back to me. She wasn't liking me much more than before, but she was willing to listen. "What do you mean?"

"You came across some bodies on your way here?"

"Yes."

"Some of them were guards. You know how they check in?"

"We know there's something they're supposed to do."

Fools and drunks, they say Luck looks after them, maybe they should add angry female rebels. Going into a place like this with no preparation ... ah! "Every twenty some minutes they touch a thumbplate set up along their routes. That tells the Brain there that they're on the job and where they should be. If a guard doesn't report and all systems look clear, the lid blows off. My friend is changing the rules, making touch and no-touch equivalent states. In other words, it doesn't matter what a guard does or doesn't do." I s.n.a.t.c.hed a look at Adelaar. "No, I'm wrong, she's done with that. She's putting together a clear corridor so we can get out clean once we have what we came for. Did you use those darts on anyone?"

"Why?"

"The ones we knocked out, in an hour or so they'll wake up with a sore head,"

I was talking quietly, keeping things relatively abstract, trying to cool down the situation; seemed to me it was working, so I kept on, "it's been our experience that guards like them, unless they're terminally stupid, when they find out there's no sign of trouble they keep their mouths shut about going to sleep on the job. You see, they won't remember what hit them, the stunner wipes out the last few seconds before they go down. With you leaving bodies about, that's not going to happen. s.h.i.t. Can't be helped, I suppose." I gave her a grin. "Anyway, it's you and your friends who're going to get the blame for all this."

"No doubt. Who are you and why are you here?"

"You've been importing slaves."

"Not me." She made the two words sound terminally grim.

"Whatever. We're here to collect some of them. My friend there, the reason she's a bit testy, she had her daughter s.n.a.t.c.hed."

"I see." She inspected Adelaar's back. She had very bright eyes, hazel, expressive. Good figure. Athletic. Despite the cowl I thought I'd know her again if I met her in other clothes and other surroundings. Reminded me a little of Shadow. I relaxed; she wasn't going to use that darter unless we were thicker than usual and forced it on her. She caught me smiling; she didn't like that, but she was cool about it. "Clear corridor. Explain."

"Deactivating traps, alarms, scanners, acoustics, melt- ers, whatever, so we can scat like our tail's on fire once we're finished." "Scanners. It was you took them out?" "My furry friend did. He's good at that kind of thing. But the techs here, they've probably replaced the burnouts by now, and maybe someone has come up with the idea the flare was sabotage, so we don't have all that much time. If you'll just calm down and let us work. ..." "Seems to me we haven't interfered all that much." Adelaar dug in her pack, brought out the black box she called her crazyquilt; Pels was watching avidly, the smooth black plastic didn't give him much to go on, but he was blasting into his memory the points where she clamped the leads; he'd hung over her like a worried mother when she started tinkering on the EYEs, but she chased him, saying he made her so nervous she was botching the work. Actually, I think she didn't want him or anyone else around her when she was using her tools, look at the fuss she made over Kinok's snooping. She had her secrets and meant to keep them.

"Maybe we could get together on this." I was trying a little basic persuasion, push but not too hard. "We need information; you want something or you wouldn't be here."

She thought that over, those bright eyes flicking from me to Pels and back,then she nodded. She didn't put the darter away, she held it loosely so she could snap it up if she needed to. "Don't push at me," she said, a much more amiable tone to her voice. "You say you're here to take some slaves home. We can certainly stand the loss. What's she doing now?"

"Getting past the blocks; when she's through, she'll be looking for slave lists. Who's where."

"Ah. If she can do that, what do you want from me?"

"Mind if I move away from the wall, my leg's getting cramped."

"If you'll remember ..." She flicked the darter at the silent women watching us.

"I hear you." Moving slow and easy, I stepped over the bench and crossed to Adelaar. "About how long?"

She jumped, glared at me. Sweat was beaded over her face and there was a wild look in her eyes.

"Del, cool it, will you?" I know that wasn't the most tactful thing I could have said; I didn't mean to be tactful; I thought she needed an excuse to blow up, so I gave her one. She cursed me for half a minute. I don't know Soncheri, but those words didn't need translation, they sounded like a couple of k'yangs snarling at each other. When she wore out her vocabulary, she dragged a hand across her face, gave me a disgusted look and went back to watching the readout dials on her black box.

I left her to it and ambled over to another work station, swung the chair around and sat straddling it, my arms crossed over the padded back looking cool and friendly. Nothing like a cliche to comfort the edgy. "Hanifa," I said which MEMORY told me was a courteous honorific for an important femme, a good description for the one facing me, "might be a good idea to send a couple of your people outside, keep watch for rovers looking for trouble. Maybe the tall one there could put on enough of his uniform," I jerked a thumb at the unconscious guard, "to suggest he's still on guard. Another idea, my friend here is rather good at stalking, you see him take the guard? Right, then you know what I mean. You've got us two as hostages for his good behavior, why not let him help with the patrolling? He's an amiable soul if you don't coo at him too much. Women do, you know, it's the curse of his life."

She surprised me. She laughed full out, a pleasant noise over the faint hum of the interface and the ticking of the shutdown readouts, made me feel like smiling for the first time since she jumped us; those other grins and grimaces were just policy. She waved the tall chunky one over and told her to get to it, called a little one who looked like she was made of springsteel and hard rubber and sent her up into one of the holes to keep watch there and pot anyone who showed his nose. She gazed thoughtfully at Pels, then nodded and waved him after the women. When he was gone, she set her hands on her hips and looked me over. "I understand about her," she nodded at Adelaar, "Why you?"

"Gelt," I said. "It's how I make my living. She hired me and my Crew to help her find her daughter and on top of that I collect so much a head for every captive I bring back."

"Crew," she said. "You have a starship."

"I didn't walk here. The lists in there, they're going to say something like this person arrived at such and such time, he was sold or rented to such and such an individual living in such and such a town. We need someone to get us to the right houses. Or lay out maps for us."

"That might be arranged. We can talk about it next time we meet. Mostly he rents them, Old Pittipat I mean." She scratched at her chin with the barrel of the darter, stopped that when the front sight snagged in the knitted cloth that covered the bottom half of her face. "You noticed the Warmaster."

"Hard to miss."

"What do you know about ships like that?"

"It's big. If it set down here, it'd grind this city to dust and just about empty the lake. When it has its full complement on board, it carries six or seven thousand, which includes crew, support personnel and strike force. Youhave any idea how many men your Pittipat keeps up there?"

She made a soft angry sound. "Not mine." She tapped the darter against her hip and went back to watching Adelaar. After a minute she said, "I don't know.

Maybe she can get the Brain to tell us."

I took a look at what Adelaar was doing. "When she has a moment free, shouldn't be long now, I'll see what she can turn up."

"How much to take us up there?"

"More than you or a dozen like you could afford."

"You don't know what I can afford."

"Maybe not, but you don't know how nervous that thing makes me."

"Bolodo takes pay in rosepearls. Other things too, but mostly them. Have you seen rosepearls?"

That straightened me up and got me interested.

Adelaar had mentioned the profits from the slaving, but she hadn't gone into details. I still wasn't willing to risk Slancy in something so close to a sacrifice mission, but if that Warmaster were seriously undermanned which I suspected from the way it acted, hmm, it was an interesting thought. "I've seen a few, didn't know where they came from." I kept my voice easy, noncommittal, but I don't think I fooled her much; she could smell a deal, but she was smart enough not to push it. "Let me find out what the Brain says," I told her. "I don't consider suicide an acceptable option."

"Nor I."

Adelaar started digging through her pack again; apparently she was in solid, because she brought out the duper and began attaching it to the black box.

After the marrying was done and the run started, she went a little limp, scrubbed at her face with her sleeve and swung her chair around to face me; she looked a bit like she'd been having great s.e.x with an inventive group, tired but with a kind of glow to her. "She's a slow b.i.t.c.h," she said, "it'll take maybe twenty minutes to get it all. Aslan first, then I'm pulling everything she's got about Bolodo. When we get back, those skells won't know what hit them."

"You think you could dig out what's in there on the Warmaster?"

"Explain."

She listened while I sketched the Hanifa's proposition. Not quite a proposition yet, but a suggestion that we might work out some sort of accommodation. I could see the spark of interest in her when I mentioned rosepearls. It looked a lot like mine. She listened without saying anything and after I finished, sat staring at the floor for several minutes. Finally she looked up. "Aslan first." The words hadn't much force behind them. She'd spent time, sweat and a lot of her gelt to reclaim her daughter, but teasing a profit out of her pain was so seductive a thought it almost obscured her original purpose.

"Agreed," I said, "that's in the contract."

"We need to make sure we've got legs for getting out of here."

"Right. Slancy's my income, I'm not hazarding her; you know how hard it is to get hold of a good ship. The tug's different. We could pick up another like her in a couple of months." I gave the Hanifa a half-grin, making sure she felt she was in the game; whether this happened or not, I wanted her kept sweet. With rosepearls in the pot, I was definitely coming back here once this business was finished. "Just looking won't hurt."

"Uh-huh. I think we've had this chat before."

"I hear. Crew and me, we run on equal shares once Slancy's serviced."

"Five shares?"

"Four. Kinok/Kahat count as one. Five with you. One time."

"Done."

I shifted to the Hanifa. "If the brain says it's doable, we'll do it, say you and I agree on terms." I gave her the grin again. "Anything else you'd like to buy?"

She thought that over a minute. "I need to talk to my people."

I checked my chron. "Plenty of time. The dupe run has to finish before myfriend can pull the Warmaster stats."

Adelaar watched the woman gather her raiders together and start whispering at them. "Until a year and a half ago, local, a little over two years std., Aslan was here. Right here, inside these walls."

"What happened?"

"She disappeared. Ran. There's some more, but I haven't tried reading it yet."

I nodded at the confa group. "Maybe one of them knows."

She pushed absently at her hair, her face gone blank, her eyes narrowed. I hadn't a clue what she was thinking. "Not here," she said finally.

"Mmf, maybe you better explain that some more."

"This is no place to twist answers out of anyone, too many ways we can get dumped on; besides, I left my kit behind, didn't think I'd need it."

"Twist answers? That's not too swift an idea."

"Rosepearls."

"I can see their shine in your eyes too."

She managed a thin smile. "I won't dispute that. You think you can trust them?"

"Not half. Fanatics. They'll do whatever they want to do and h.e.l.l with any contract." I yawned. It was getting later by the breath and I was tired. And I was getting nervous, stuck in this hole, waiting for the locals to pour on the troops. "Whatever they come up with, you keep hold of the data until they provide the pearls."

"We agree on that much anyway."