Dragonback 06 Dragon and Liberator (17 page)

Perhaps he's relying on the Valahgua to keep the Brummgas in
line
, Draycos suggested.
Certainly they have the most to lose
if something happens to the ship or the Death weapons
.

Good point
, Jack agreed, trying to think. Back on
Brum-a-dum, he knew, Alison had tried to sow a little dissention
between Neverlin, Frost, and the Patri Chookoock. Maybe he and Draycos
could stir up a little distrust of their own between the Valahgua and
Brummgas.

The Number Two weapons bay is around the next corner to the left
,
Draycos warned.
The Death weapon is mounted in the bay's auxiliary
control room
.

Any idea how many Valahgua might be aboard
?

There will be at least nine
, Draycos said.
A Death
weapon requires one operator and one controller, There will also be a
Lordover in command aboard this ship, plus a Lordhighest in overall
command, probably on the
Advocatus Diaboli
with Neverlin and
Frost
.

How good are they at hand-to-hand fighting
?

Adequate
, Draycos said.
But the K'da and Shontine are
far better. It is only the Death that gives the Valahgua their advantage
.

Ah
. Though at nine-to-one odds, Jack noted privately, the
Valahgua didn't have to be particularly good to still win out in a
straight-up, toe-to-claw fight. He and Draycos would have to make sure
that didn't happen.

He rounded the final corner and found himself facing an
orange-rimmed door fifteen feet away, flanked by a pair of armed
Brummgas.
That's it
? Jack asked.

That's it
, Draycos confirmed.
You'll need to bring me
as close as you can
.

Easy
, Jack cautioned as he strode toward the guards. To his
eye, the Brummgas didn't look particularly alert. Certainly not as
alert as someone guarding the ultimate weapon ought to look.

In fact, come to think of it, they looked bored and even a bit
resentful.

Small wonder. Here in the middle of a ship populated entirely by
their friends and allies, guard duty would seem pretty unnecessary.

They would have a rude awakening on that point soon enough. In the
meantime, a pair of bored guards opened up some intriguing
possibilities.
What did you call the Valahgua head honcho again
?
he asked Draycos.

The Lordover
, Draycos said.
You have a plan
?

I'm thinking we might try the subtle approach first
, Jack
told him, glancing casually around. Besides the two guards, there
didn't seem to be anyone else around.
We can always kick butt later
if we have to
.

"What do you wish?" one of the guards demanded.

"What do you
think
I wish?" Jack retorted. "The last
diagnostic on the big gun came back a little iffy, and the Lordover
wanted me to run a quick check."

The Brummgas looked at each other, and Jack held his breath. If
they decided to call the Valahgua to check on the order, Draycos was
going to get some exercise after all. "Come on; come on," Jack growled,
waving toward the door behind them. "I haven't got all day."

"No one is permitted to be inside with the weapon," one of the
Brummgas rumbled.

"No one is permitted to be
alone
inside with the weapon,"
Jack countered. The trick with Brummgas was to stay one step ahead of
their mental processes. "Read your standing orders sometime, will you?
So open up and we'll all go in together."

The aliens exchanged a second uncertain glance. "All of us,
together?" the same one asked.

"I'm not supposed to be in there alone, remember?" Jack reminded
him, putting some strained patience into his voice. "Besides, I'm going
to need an extra hand or two."

"Yet the orders also state that we cannot leave the door
unguarded."

"Then you wait out here, and your buddy can come in with me, and
everyone'll be happy," Jack said.

The Brummga drew himself up. "No," he stated firmly. "He will
stay.
I
will go." He gestured, and his companion stepped back
to the door control. "But I will watch you closely," he added warningly.

"Fine by me," Jack said. "Can we please just get to it?"

The Brummga gestured again. His companion keyed the control, and
the door slid open. Squaring his shoulders, Jack stepped between the
aliens and into the doorway.

And found himself face-to-face with the Death.

Viewing it on the monitor, Jack had been able to appreciate both
its comical appearance as well as its more deadly aspects. But no more.
Here, standing in its presence, he could see nothing amusing about it
at all. The device reeked of destruction and anger, of hatred and pride
and a lust for power.

All tools and weapons, Uncle Virgil had once said, could be used
for both good and bad. They could be a help in Jack's work, or could
throw a snarl-up in his path.

But the Death was different. There was no useful task to which it
could be put, no role of defense or creation that its technology could
provide. All it could do was kill, without discrimination or restraint
or mercy.

It was pure evil.

Jack felt a cold shiver run up his back. Uncle Virgil, he knew,
would have immediately looked for ways the Death could be of use to
him, as either a prize to ransom or a commodity to sell to the highest
bidder. Jack himself, a year or two ago, would probably not have
approved, but he would probably not have voiced any serious objections,
either.

Not so the Jack Morgan of the present. This Jack Morgan could
recognize the need to destroy this device. And he was ready and willing
to do so.

Six months of living with a poet-warrior of the K'da had turned
Jack into a person he'd never thought he could be. A person he'd never
even dreamed he could be.

He was going to do what was right. Not because he stood to gain a
thing from it, but just because it was
right
.

And despite the danger all around him, it felt good. It felt
really
good.

Jack
?

With an effort, Jack shook away the sudden rush of feelings. The
self-evaluation and warm fuzzies could wait until later. Right now, he
had a job to do.

He eyed the Death, doing a quick mental calculation. Assuming the
device hadn't been moved since his visit to the monitor room, one of
the two cameras in the room had to be directly above the door, while
the other was across in the far left-hand corner. A simple,
straightforward arrangement, and one that covered the room quite
adequately.

Unfortunately for Frost, the people who'd installed them had made
the classic mistake of mounting both cameras out of the way near the
ceiling. As long as Jack kept his head down, he should be able to keep
his face off the monitors.

He stepped inside, looking down at his waist as he pulled out his
multitool.
Have you gotten close enough to Valahguan equipment over
the years to know what kind of fasteners they use
? he asked Draycos.

I have
, Draycos said.
They're like human-style screws,
but with a triangular hole in the end
.

Jack winced. His multitool had screwdriver blades with both
cross-headed and square-headed tips. But a triangular tip was something
new.
I suppose it's too late to tell them I need to go get a tool
kit
?

Definitely
, Draycos said.
But I think one jaw from your
needle-nose pliers will work
.

I hope you're right
. Jack reached the Death and leaned over
the blue-light panel as if examining it.
Control circuitry
?

Beneath a cover plate on the underside, directly under the
status light display
.

Jack finished his examination and crouched down beside the weapon,
using its bulk to block the relevant camera's view of his face. He
found the access cover plate right where Draycos had said it would be,
held in place at its four corners by the odd-looking triangle-holed
screws. Mentally crossing his fingers, he opened his needle-nose pliers
and inserted the tip of one jaw into the nearest screw.

The fit wasn't perfect, but it was close enough.
Be
careful—the thread is left-handed
, Draycos warned.
It works the
opposite way from human designs
.

Thanks
. Jack turned the proper direction, and the screw
began to loosen.

"You don't have right tools," the Brummga said, sounding more
confused than suspicious. "Why don't you have right tools?"

"You've got to be kidding," Jack said with a snort. "Those
Valahgua tools are for sissies." He got the panel off and laid it
aside, then flicked on his flashlight and pointed it up into the
opening.

Inside was a maze of wires, four rectangular circuit boards with
neat rows of small components, and a few larger, thumb-sized modules
wired separately into the system. Jack had dealt with his share of
electronic designs over the years, but this one was completely unlike
anything he'd ever seen.

But there were certain constants in every electronic design,
constants forced by the laws of physics. Control circuits, which always
ran on low voltage, were connected together by thin wires. Power
supplies, which ran much higher voltage, required thicker wires and
heavier insulation.

And if the high-voltage current from the power circuits ever
wandered over into the control circuits, trouble was pretty much
guaranteed.

Reaching a hand to the top of the weapon. Jack tapped one of the
handles. "Hold it right here," he told the Brummga. "Keep it real
steady. And
don't
bump any of the controls."

The Brummga did as instructed. Pulling out one of his multitool's
special blades, Jack touched it to one of the thicker wires. The
indicator light remained dark, confirming that there was no current
flowing there at the moment. He checked two other wires, then replaced
the sensor and pulled out a slender knife.

The operation took less than a minute. "Okay, I think I got it,"
he announced as he began screwing the cover plate back into place. "But
don't let go until I tell you."

He finished with the plate and stood up, vigorously rubbing his
forehead to again block any view of his face. "Thanks," he told the
Brummga as he turned and strode back to the door, bowing his head as if
he were checking on his multitool as he put it back into his pocket.
"I'll let you get back to your exciting guard duty."

Jack left the room and headed back down the corridor.
That
went well
, he thought toward Draycos, his skin itching as it always
did when he had his back to people he'd just conned.
What now
?

Now we get under cover
, Draycos said.
Take the second
door to the right
.

Right
. Jack chewed at his lower lip.
On the other hand,
what's the hurry? They're going to be on to us soon enough. It seems to
me we should squeeze everything we can out of this time of blissful
ignorance
.

If we do, we run the risk of being caught in the open when the
alarm is given
, Draycos warned.

It's still worth a shot
, Jack said.
Where's the next
nearest weapon
?

A few rooms forward in the Number One weapons bay
, Draycos
said.
From the camera image, I believe this one's mounted in the
bay's main control room, instead of in auxiliary control. That room is
right up against the hull, and we'll need to use a different door to
reach it
.

Then let's do it
, Jack decided.
Just show me where to go
.

Very well
, Draycos said.
Take the next turn to the left
.

Neverlin had told Frost to search the man calling himself Virgil
Morgan before allowing him aboard the
Advocatus Diaboli
. Frost
had apparently taken that order very seriously, because Taneem ended up
crouching by the grille overlooking Neverlin's office for nearly half
an hour before the man finally arrived.

When he did, he wasn't at all what Taneem had expected. For one
thing, he didn't look or smell anything like Jack, as she would assume
a relative should. He was a large man, slightly bigger even than Frost,
who was walking closely and watchfully behind him. He had broad
shoulders and a way of moving that somehow brought the best Phooka
dancers to Taneem's mind.

His clothing was another surprise. Instead of Jack's casual jeans,
shirt, and jacket, he was wearing a distinguished-looking white uniform.

A moment later, she realized it was the same uniform she'd seen
earlier on the
Advocatus Diaboli
's bridge crew. Apparently,
Frost had decided not to let the man even keep his own clothes but had
pulled a spare uniform from the ship's stores for him to wear.

But all of this Taneem noticed only secondarily. Her main
attention was focused on Neverlin.

And on Neverlin's sudden and violent reaction to the man's
entrance. "What the
hell
?" he all but gasped, twitching back
from his desk. "Frost!"

"Hold it," Frost snapped, grabbing the man's right wrist.

Or rather, he tried to grab the man's wrist. Before he could get a
solid grip, the other twisted his arm smoothly out of the mercenary's
grip.

Neverlin twitched again, shoving himself even farther back from
his desk as if expecting an attack. But the newcomer simply stood where
he was, making no attempt to do anything at all. "Hello, Mr. Neverlin,"
he said calmly. "Nice to see you again."

Snarling a curse, Frost got another grip on the man's wrist. "You
know him?" he demanded.

"Oh yes, I know him," Neverlin bit out. "His name's Harper. He's
one of Cornelius Braxton's bodyguards."