"You know I'm not," Nicabar said. "I presume you were watching as Enig and his defenders checked me for weapons outside."

"My question was more along the lines of why you didn't have a weapon at all,"

Nask said. "I was under the impression Expediters were routinely armed."

"Most Expediters don't have to live aboard a ship the size of the Icarus with people like McKell poking their noses into everything," Nicabar reminded him.

"He'd have fingered me long ago if I'd brought a gun aboard."

"You had us fooled, all right," I growled, trying not to sound too bitter.

"Especially that little speech you made back in the engine room. That was a nice touch."

He lifted his eyebrows mockingly. "I don't know why," he said. "I thought I made it pretty clear that I thought the Patthaaunutth were being unfairly picked on just because they happened to be more technically innovative than the rest of us. You must not have been listening very well."

"I guess not," I murmured, a sudden surge of adrenaline jolting through my system. I had been listening to that conversation; had been listening with everything I had. And that was not in any way what Nicabar had said or implied.

Which either meant he was playing a completely pointless game with me... or else there was something else entirely going on here.

And then, even as Nicabar turned contemptuously away from me and back to Nask, I.

heard the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard in my life. A soft sound, hardly audible, certainly not at all melodic. But a sound nevertheless that three minutes ago I would have sworn I would never hear again.

The soft sneeze of a Kalixiri ferret.

I would have been surprised if any of the others noticed it. Certainly they gave no sign that they had. Nicabar was conversing in a low but intense tone with Nask, probably discussing plans for the upcoming raid on the Icarus, and all the Iykams in my field of view were still glowering at me with the same unfriendly expressions that their companions had worn in the back room just before I'd dropped a chair on them. Slowly, making it look like I was checking them out in turn, I moved my head just enough to see the lower of the room's air vents.

And there he was, barely visible in the shadows behind the vent's crosshatched grating: Pix or Pax, I couldn't tell which, his head turned to the side as if he was grooming himself or gnawing at an itch. Just as slowly, I turned back to the desk again, not wanting my interest in that part of the room to spark any unwelcome curiosity.

Nicabar was looking sideways at me, still talking to Nask. I dropped one eyelid a millimeter and got an equally microscopic nod in return from him before heseemed to notice his ID still lying on the desk and returned it to his pocket.

Not his ID, rather, but the one I'd taken off the Patth agent on Dorscind's World after my old buddy James Fulbright's attempt to cash in on the reward.

Clearly, my original estimation of Thompson as little more than a glorified Patth accountant had been seriously off target.

"I suppose you're wondering what we've got planned," Nicabar spoke up into my thoughts.

"Oh, no, don't tell me," I said, remembering to put the same bitterness into my voice that I'd been feeling two minutes earlier. "I just love surprises."

"I'd be a little less flippant if I were you," Nicabar said reprovingly.

"Whether the rest of the Icarus crew lives or needlessly dies is going to depend entirely on you. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that-what the h.e.l.l?" He jumped away from the desk toward the wall, just as Nask let out a yelp of his own.

And for good reason. The air vents, upper and lower both, were suddenly spewing a dense, pale yellow smoke. "We're on fire!" Enig gasped.

"You three get out of here!" Nicabar snapped. He'd reached the area of the lower vent now, his head and torso disappearing as he bent down into the smoke.

"You-defenders-get that top vent sealed!"

Two of the five Iykams were already scrambling against the wall, straining to reach the upper vent's sealing lever. From Nicabar and the lower vent came a teeth-grinding screech of torn metal; and then abruptly he was standing upright again out of the cloud of smoke, a cloud that seemed already to be starting to dissipate.

And in his hand was Fulbright's Kochran-Uzi three-millimeter semiautomatic.

His first two shots took out two of the Iykams still standing guard over me.

The third guard nearly got his own weapon up and aimed in time, but lost the last chance he would ever have as I leaned sideways and kicked his gun arm out of line. I swiveled back around as Nicabar systematically took out the rest of the guards, heaving myself up with the chair on my back again, and hurled myself across the desk at Nask.

The Patth threw his own chair backward as he saw me coming, making one last futile grab for something in the drawer he'd opened as he got out of my way.

But the desk was higher than the table in the back room had been, and with the additional barrier of the monitors along its edge I only made it about halfway across before I ran out of momentum. Nask, belatedly seeing that his reflexive dodge had been unnecessary, killed his own backward momentum and dived out of his chair toward the open drawer.

"Don't," a familiar voice warned from the doorway.

Nask froze, his head twisting to look in that direction, his hand still outstretched toward the drawer. I looked, too, trying to ignore the fresh red haze my sudden bit of exercise had sent swimming across my vision. Ixil stood in the doorway, the plasmic in his hand pointed squarely at Nask, his wide shoulders and settled-looking stance blocking any hope of escape for the two Patth pilots standing rigidly in shock in front of him.

"I see," Nask said. I looked back to find he had straightened up again, his hand fallen empty at his side."It's like a cla.s.s reunion in here," I said, my voice sounding distant in my ears through the trip-hammer that had apparently finished its lunch break and started up work again on the back of my head. "I hope someone thought to bring some painkillers along."

"We did better than that," Ixil a.s.sured me, motioning Brosh and Enig back toward Nask and closing the door behind him. "We've got Everett waiting outside."

"Everett?" I echoed. "I told him to stay with Shawn."

"Tera and Chort are with Shawn," Nicabar told me. He was at my side now, examining the handcuffs. "It occurred to us that you might need medical attention more urgently than he did."

"I don't, but I might have," I admitted, nodding toward one of the guards lying dead on the floor. "That one. Keys in his belt pouch. How did you find me, anyway?"

"We never really lost you," Nicabar said, dropping to one knee and digging into the pouch. "Tera wanted to know just where you were going to go on your errand."

I looked at Nask, who was standing stiffly glowering at us. "Don't worry about giving anything away," I told Nicabar. "They were staking out pharmacists, after all. Like he said, they're putting together the pieces."

"And we already have most of them," Nask said quietly. "Sooner or later we will get you."

He drew himself up. "And when we do, you will wish you had bargained here and now. You will wish it very much."

"I'll make you a small wager that we don't," I offered. But the words were automatic, and ninety percent bl.u.s.ter besides. For at least the foreseeable future, the smart money was definitely still on the Patth. "So what, after I left she called and had you tail me?" I asked, turning back to Nicabar.

"Actually, we'd already set it up," Nicabar said. He found the keys and set to work on my cuffs. "After the Iykams jumped you, I followed your party back here and then called Ixil. He brought the chemicals I needed, and while I mixed up the smoke bombs and time fuses he sent his ferrets in to reconnoiter. They came back, and we rigged them with harnesses to drag the bombs and gun inside."

The last cuff came loose. "You certainly had me going," I said, ma.s.saging my wrists. So that was what the ferret in the vent had been doing: chewing through his harness straps so that he wouldn't have to be sitting on top of the smoke bomb when it went off. "How exactly does the rest of the plan go?"

Nicabar nodded at the three Patth. "We cuff our friends together and get out of here."

"Good plan," I said. "There's only one problem. This ship of theirs, the Considerate. It must be pretty good-sized, or Nask wouldn't have thought they'd be able to handle the Icarus. If they get loose before we make it off-planet, they might take it into their heads to try and intercept us."

"A good point," Nicabar admitted. "Well... if you want, I'll deal with it."

"Be warned," Nask said. Suddenly every trace of smarminess was gone from his voice, leaving nothing but simmering threat in its place. "The murder of a Patthaaunutth citizen is punishable by the most severe consequences imaginable.""And how would they know who'd done it?" Nicabar scoffed.

"There are ways," Nask said, still in that same tone. "There are always ways."

"Doesn't matter," I said before Nicabar could reply. "We can't shoot down unarmed civilians in cold blood anyway."

"Then what do we do?" Nicabar demanded. "Just leave them here like this?"

"We leave them here," Ixil said, stepping forward and handing me his gun. "But not precisely like this. Jordan, if you'd be so kind as to watch them; and Revs, I'd appreciate it if you'd get that upper vent open so that Pix can get out."

"What are you going to do?" I asked, keeping one eye on the three Patth and the other on Ixil. He had retrieved one of the corona guns and was fiddling with a pair of control settings.

"This will be an experiment," Ixil said. "I found this setting when I was examining the weapons you brought from your encounter on Xathru. It's quite low-power-far too low, in fact, to possibly serve as a credible weapon."

"What's it for, then?" Nicabar asked, grunting as he tore the grating from the upper vent. Pix was more than ready, diving out of the opening almost before the grating was all the way off. Hitting the floor, he dodged around the Iykams'

bodies and scampered up Ixil's leg.

"I expect it's used for torture," Ixil said, squinting at the dials.

"Something to cause pain without the risk of physical damage."

"What an efficient idea," I muttered, gazing hard at Nask. He said nothing, his eyes riveted on the weapon in Ixil's hand. "No reason you should have to carry both a gun and a set of thumbscrews, too."

"Indeed," Ixil said. Finishing his adjustments, he headed toward Brosh.

"Just a moment," Brosh said, taking a hasty step back. "I'm a simple starship pilot, from a civilian merchant ship. I have nothing to do with decisions or policies of that sort."

"I realize that," Ixil said, reaching out his free hand and taking one of Brosh's arms in an unbreakable grip. "And for that reason I sincerely hope this doesn't hurt too much."

And pressing the corona gun against Brosh's left cheekbone, he pulled the trigger.

There wasn't any flash-the current flow was far too low to produce a spark.

But from the effect on Brosh Ixil might have just put a thousand volts across his face. He gasped sharply, his head jerking back with such violence that my own head injuries throbbed in sympathetic pain. Ixil didn't give him a chance to recover his balance, but simply leaned forward and delivered a second jolt to the other cheekbone. Brosh gasped again, a sound that seemed to be on the edge of panic or hysteria. "Just one more," Ixil soothed him, and delivered a third shock to his forehead just above his eyes.

Abruptly, Nask snarled something in the Patth language. About a step behind me, he'd suddenly figured out what Ixil was doing. "You sacundian alien frouzht-"

"-and then we move on to the hands," Ixil said, ignoring both Nask's curses and Brosh's yelps and delivering a quick jolt to the backs of each of the pilot's hands. "And that," he added, letting go of Brosh's arm so quickly that the other nearly toppled over backward, "is that."

"Yes, indeed," I agreed. "And with all that lovely implanted circuitry nowscrambled or fried, the Considerate is without a chief pilot."

"And will be also without its backup pilot in a moment," Ixil agreed, moving to where Enig was cringing.

Enig demonstrated himself capable of more dignity and self-control than his superior, leaving Nask's continuing stream of invective un-punctuated by gasps or moans. "Now it should be safe to secure them to the desk," Ixil said, tossing the weapon distastefully across the room and taking his plasmic back from me.

"Revs, if you'll do the honors?"

A minute later, the three Patth were trussed like a matched set of Thanksgiving turkeys. They maintained a stoic silence throughout the operation, even Nask apparently having run out of things to call us. But the amba.s.sador stared at Ixil the whole time, and there was something about the very deadness of his expression that sent a chill up my back.

"Looks good," I said after Nicabar had finished, giving his handiwork a quick examination. Not that I didn't trust him to do a proper job, but it was too late in the day to be taking unnecessary chances. "I presume one of you knows the best way out?"

"Straight through the club," Ixil said. He snapped his fingers and Pax abandoned his examination of one of the dead Iykams and scurried toward him. "Did you know you were in the back rooms of a night-to-dawn club, by the way?"

"No, but I should have guessed from the music I was hearing," I said as Pax climbed up and took his accustomed place on Ixil's other shoulder. It occurred to me that I hadn't actually heard the band for some time now; straining my ears, I discovered I still couldn't hear it. Either Nicabar's gunshots had affected my hearing, or else the club had suddenly gone silent. An ominous possibility, that one. "Let's go."

I headed for the door, scooping up one of the corona guns along the way just to have some kind of weapon in my hand. Nicabar and Ixil moved into support positions on either side of me, Nicabar easing the door open for a cautious look as Ixil kept an eye on our three Patth friends. "All clear," Nicabar murmured.

He started out- "Kalix."

I turned around. Nask was still staring at Ixil, the look of death still smoldering in his eyes. "For what you did here you will pay dearly," the amba.s.sador said quietly. "You, and all your species with you. Remember this night as you watch your people starve to death."

For a moment Ixil looked back at him, his own face expressionless, and I wondered uneasily if he was having second thoughts about the side he'd chosen.

If Nask wasn't just blowing off steam-and if he could persuade the Patth Director General to back him up-the Patth certainly had it within their economic power to make life miserable for the Kalixiri.

"Ixil?" Nicabar prompted quietly.

His voice seemed to break the spell. "Yes," Ixil said, turning back. "Go ahead.

I'll take the rear."

Seconds later, the three of us were moving along a well-lit but deserted corridor. There was still no music; nor, as we moved along, could I hear any sounds at all other than our own. "What did you do, scare away all the patronswhen you came in?" I murmured.

"Something like that," Nicabar murmured back.

"I hope you scared away the Iykams, too," I said. "Nask implied he had a whole troop of them guarding the building."

"He did," Ixil said grimly. "Everett and I dealt rather more permanently with them while the Patth were distracted with you and Nicabar."

"And where is Everett?"

"On guard in the main club area," Ixil said. "It's right up here on the right."

We rounded a corner, to find ourselves at the edge of a garishly decorated wiggle floor, its flickerlights still playing to its departed clientele, a scattering of spilled drinks and a couple of lost scarves adding color to the floor itself. Beyond the wiggle floor, surrounding it on all three sides other than the one we were on, were the drinking and conversation areas, consisting of a collection of close-packed tables. Most of them sported abandoned bottles and gla.s.ses, with the disarrayed chairs around them evidence of just how rapidly the club's clientele had departed. The arrangement of lights had put most of the conversation area into deep shadow, a fact I didn't care much for at all.

Especially given that there was no sign of Everett. On guard or otherwise.

Nicabar had made the same observation. "So where is he?" he murmured.

"I don't know," Ixil said as we hugged the corner. "Maybe he went outside for some reason."

Or maybe the Patth or Iykams had spirited him away, I didn't bother to add. If so, the evening was still a long way from being over. "Where's the door?" I asked.

"There's an emergency exit behind that cl.u.s.ter of orange lights in the corner,"

Nicabar answered. "It opens onto an alleyway just off one of the major streets."

"Let's hope he's out there," I said. "After you."

Silently, Nicabar headed off, angling across the wiggle floor toward the orange lights he'd pointed out. We were about two-thirds of the way across the wiggle floor, pinned like moths in the glow from the flickerlights, when I caught a glimpse of movement from behind the ma.s.s of darkened tables to our left.

"Watch it!" I snapped, jabbing a finger that direction.