Cobra Alliance-Cobra War Book 1 (38 page)

An instant later it was caught in a terrifying pillar of fire as the control tower it was passing over disintegrated in a thunderous explosion. The crippled ship veered violently sideways, tried to back up, then crashed to the ground. From the multiple flashes of secondary explosions, Merrick guessed it had probably crashed on top of some of the other Troft ships.

He turned back to Siraj. "You're right," he slurred through suddenly numb lips. "That was one hell of a message."

The last thing he remembered as Siraj's face blurred and then faded into darkness was the sight of a pair of SkyJos coming up behind Siraj, their lowered grab nets fluttering in the breeze.

The deep-forest village was quiet and dark as the SkyJo settled into the center square. "Where is everyone?" Jin asked as the pilot cut the engines.

"He's waiting," the other said tersely, pointing to one of the larger houses bordering on the square. "You go alone."

Jin unstrapped from her jumpseat, keying her optical enhancers as she did so. There were two men flanking the building's front entrance, standing with the stiffness of military guards. "Understood," she said, turning for a final look at Merrick. His eyes were closed, and even in the dim light she could see that his face was unnaturally pale. But his chest was rising and falling rhythmically, and the stretcher's readouts were showing a cautious stability in his other vital signs.

"He's waiting," the pilot repeated.

"Go ahead," Zoshak said. "Ifrit Akim and I will wait with him. Go and find out what this is all about."

"All right," Jin said, wondering what exactly she was going to tell the two of them when she came back. According to the plan, she and Merrick were to have been brought out here alone, not with a pair of Qasaman hitchhikers in tow. Certainly not with Miron Akim's own son along for the ride.

But there was nothing for it now but to play it through and hope Akim was able to improvise. Opening the gunship's side door, she stepped out onto the wet grass and started toward the house.

From the air, the village had looked deserted. From ground level, it looked dead. There were no lights showing anywhere that Jin could see, and the only sound aside from the light wind rustling through the trees and bushes was the faint whooshing from the second SkyJo flying high cover above them. Even her infrareds were unable to pick up human heat sources in any of the buildings except the one she was heading for.

Had Miron Akim cleared out the entire village for this?

One of the two door guards stirred as she approached. "He's waiting," he said, leaning over and pushing open the door. "First room on the right."

"Thank you." Stepping between them, Jin walked into the house and turned into the indicated doorway.

And stopped abruptly in her tracks. "Good evening, Jasmine Moreau," Moffren Omnathi said gravely from the depths of an armchair in the center of the room. "How nice to see you again."

It took Jin two tries to find her voice. "And you as well, Advisor Omnathi," she said between frozen lips, her heartbeat thudding suddenly in her chest.

"Yet you seem surprised to see me," Omnathi said calmly. "Almost as if you were expecting someone else."

"Indeed," Jin said as calmly as she could. So it was over. Akim's plan, and her own hopes. Omnathi had found out about it, and it was all over. "Tell me, what have you done with Miron Akim?"

"I?" Omnathi asked, as if surprised she would even think such a thing. "I do nothing to anyone. Surely you know that."

"Of course," Jin said. "My mistake. You merely give the orders. Others carry them out."

"Yes," Omnathi said. It was a simple statement of fact, unencumbered by either embarrassment or pride. "But do not concern yourself," he continued. "As I'm sure Miron Akim himself told you, he is far too valuable to be disciplined."

"I'm relieved to hear that," Jin said. As if she actually believed it. "Do my son and I stand in similar positions?"

"You made an agreement with the Shahni," he reminded her, his voice going a shade darker. "Your nanocomputer for the chance to warn your people of the impending Troft attack. Despite that agreement, you and Miron Akim conspired to send both you and your son away without fulfilling your side of the bargain."

"Yes, I know what was said and done," Jin said, suddenly tired of playing games. "Whatever you're going to do to us, get on with it."

"Please; indulge me," Omnathi said gravely. "I lay out the facts solely to impress upon you the understanding that I know everything there is to know about the path you and Miron Akim have chosen." He paused. "So that you will know that I speak from full understanding when I tell you I agree with that path."

Jin's bewilderment must have shown in her face, because Omnathi actually smiled. "You doubt my sincerity?" he asked. "Or merely my sanity?"

"I'm . . . confused," Jin managed. Was this some sort of cruel joke? "If you disagreed with the original deal . . . ?"

"Why did I not speak up?" Omnathi sighed. "Because despite the firm belief of our people, the Shahni's decisions are not always wise. In this case, they completely failed to understand the realities of our situation. Even if I held your nanocomputer in my hand right now, it would take months to decipher the programming and weeks or months more to construct enough of them for our needs. After that it would be months before we learned how to create the fiber control network and the bone laminae, to say nothing of the necessary techniques for implanting the servos."

"None of which you've been able to do in thirty years of trying," Jin murmured. "Miron Akim told me."

"In fact, it has been far more than thirty years," Omnathi said. "We have been trying to reconstruct your weaponry ever since your people's first visit here six decades ago. Even with your wholehearted assistance, I fear we would still fail in our attempts."

His gaze drifted away from her, his eyes focused on infinity. "No, Jasmine Moreau," he said quietly. "The promise of your nanocomputer, even offered in good faith, is a false hope. The Trofts were handed a terrible defeat tonight, and indeed many of them have fled from our world in disarray. But if this is indeed a war against all humankind, they will not stay away for long. They will return, more cautious and more determined. And we will have no further surprises with which to shake them."

His eyes came back to her. "We can survive for a season. But barring a miracle, ultimate victory cannot and will not be ours. Not alone. Not without aid from your people. If you fail to fulfill your promise to Miron Akim, Qasama will die."

Jin swallowed hard. Never before had she seen a Qasaman leader stripped of his pride and bluster and supreme confidence in himself. It was eerie, and more than a little unnerving.

But as she looked into Omnathi's eyes, she felt her fatigue and uncertainty hardening into a brittle, ice-cold resolve. Behind the cultural arrogance were real, genuine human beings. Human beings worth saving. "I won't fail, Moffren Omnathi," she promised him quietly "Whatever help I can find, I
will
bring back to you."

"Then I will trust you." Omnathi smiled again, but this time the smile was edged with sadness. "For indeed, I have no choice."

Placing his hands on the armrests, he pushed himself carefully to his feet. "Come. Your departure is at hand."

He walked past Jin out into the hallway and turned toward the rear of the house. "Where are the rest of the villagers?" Jin asked as she moved up beside him.

"The women and children have moved to nearby mines or ravines for safety," Omnathi said. "The rest are out in the forest, either hunting wayward Trofts or guarding the transport we have captured for your use."

Jin pursed her lips. "You
do
know, don't you, that I don't know how to fly a Troft ship?"

"That is being taken care of as we speak." Omnathi stopped at a door and gestured to it. "Please; after you."

Jin opened the door and stepped through into a large, brightly lit dining room, to find herself facing an extraordinary sight. Seated at a long dining table was a bedraggled-looking Troft, wearing a standard, unarmored leotard. Behind him stood two Qasamans, a young man and woman, the former wearing a Djinn combat suit, both of them peering unblinkingly at the alien's every move. Off to the side was a third Qasaman, this one a middle-aged man. The latter looked up as Jin and Omnathi entered, but none of the others in the room seemed to even notice them. Omnathi flicked his fingers at the older Qasaman, who nodded and turned back to the Troft. [An attack, it comes from behind,] he said in cattertalk.

The Troft's hands reached to the table in front of him, his fingers darting back and forth across the smooth wooden surface. [A radio challenge, it requires a response,] the Qasaman said.

The Troft swiveled around in his seat and again drummed his fingers, this time on a different part of the table. Like he was punching actual buttons, Jin thought, and operating an actual control board.

Which was, she realized abruptly, exactly what he thought he was doing.

She looked sharply at Omnathi. "The pilot of the transport we have obtained," the other murmured. "He believes himself to be in his control room."

Jin looked at the two young Qasamans, a shiver running up her back. And even as the middle-aged man manipulated his drugged Troft puppet, the two observers were watching his every move, their own drugged minds recording every nuance of his actions.

"You do not approve?" Omnathi asked.

With an effort, Jin pushed the shivers away. "It'll get us home," she said. "That's all that matters."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Omnathi nod. "Good," he murmured. "They will be finished soon. Let us go examine your vehicle."

The Troft transport was parked about a hundred meters from the village, nestled into a small clearing that fit it so well that Jin suspected the trees had been cut down specifically for the purpose. "There were nearly a dozen razorarms in the cargo bay when we took the vehicle," Omnathi said as the two of them walked through a sentry line of grim-faced villagers. "We assumed you wouldn't wish to be bothered with their care and feeding during the voyage home and therefore released them back into the woods."

Jin nodded. It might have been smarter to leave the predators aboard in case they ran into an advance ship near Aventine whose crew decided to be suspicious and examine their cargo. But it was too late to do anything about that now. "How big a crew will we have?" she asked as Omnathi led the way through the open hatchway.

"Only the two you saw back there," Omnathi said. "The woman is Rashida Vil, the man is Ghofl Khatir."

"Who's also a Djinni," Jin murmured.

"Obviously," Omnathi said. "Interestingly, he was slated to lead tonight's attack on the sentry ship. The attack you weren't originally scheduled to take part in," he added offhandedly.

Jin swallowed. That had also been part of the deal she'd worked out with Miron Akim, something to give the attack better odds of success. Was there anything about her private conversations, she wondered, that Omnathi didn't know? "What happened?" she asked.

"Nothing mysterious," Omnathi assured her. "Miron Akim learned he was a qualified pilot and so pulled him off the attack so that he could be sent here to prepare for your flight to Aventine."

And put in his own son as second squad leader instead. Jin had wondered about that, especially so soon after Siraj's defeat the previous day. "And the young woman?"

"Rashida Vil is also a qualified pilot, and is furthermore fluent in the Troft language," Omnathi said. "That will be helpful if there are any sentries still in position over Qasama who will need to the pilot's pass codes and clearances. As to the rest of your fellow travelers, I presume you already know them."

Jin frowned. Fellow travelers, plural? "Isn't it just my son and me?"

"Hardly," Omnathi said. "You didn't really think Miron Akim would allow you to leave Qasama without an escort, did you?"

Jin grimaced. No, actually, she shouldn't have thought that. "Let me guess," she said. "His son Siraj is coming."

"Correct," Omnathi confirmed. "And as long as Djinni Zoshak is here anyway, he might as well also accompany you."

"There's really no need for you to send them," Jin said. The thought of taking a pair of Qasaman Djinn into the middle of Capitalia . . . "You know as well as I do that the treatment I received this morning only temporarily shrunk my tumor. If I don't come back to Qasama I'll still have no more than three months to live."

"I have no doubts that you'll return," Omnathi assured her calmly. "If for no other reason than to get your son."

Jin jerked her head around. "We had a deal, Moffren Omnathi," she bit out.

"A deal I was fully prepared to carry out," Omnathi said. "But the situation has changed. Merrick Moreau is far too badly injured to accompany you now. He needs treatment, and he needs it here."

A red haze of fury seemed to drop down in front of Jin's eyes. No wonder Omnathi had been so willing to honor Akim's deal and let her leave. He'd known all along that he had a hostage to her good behavior. "And if during this treatment his nanocomputer just happens to fall out into someone's hands?"

"Did I spend precious minutes of my life explaining my reasoning to you for nothing?" Omnathi countered, his voice going cold. "I have already told you I do not want his nanocomputer. Allow me to make it even clearer: I will not take his nanocomputer. Based on his performance this night, I am far more interested in seeing him healed and fighting again on our side."

Jin glared at him, the red haze slowly fading away. He could be lying, of course. But the logic held true.

And if he
was
lying, her tired brain and eyes would never pick up on it anyway. "He'll fight for you," she said, turning away. "Provided the Shahni allow him to do so."

"I will deal with the Shahni," Omnathi promised grimly. "As Miron Akim said to you once, victory is more important than honor."

He took a deep breath. "Let us return to the SkyJo. You may say your final farewells to your son, and I shall instruct Djinni Zoshak and Ifrit Akim on their new mission." His lip twitched. "Their reactions, I expect, will be most interesting."