Cobra Gamble (32 page)

Haafiz slammed his fist on the table.
"Treason!"
he snarled. "Treason and madness. They'll turn on us, Miron Akim—if not today, then the moment the other invaders have been thrown off our world. They must be stopped
now,
before they know all our secrets. We don't need their so-called help, and we don't
want
it."

"You're wrong, Your Excellency, on both counts," Akim said. "Besides, it's too late. The battle for our world has already begun." He picked up the radio from the table in front of him. "I received the word from the military commander of Azras fifteen minutes ago."

Haafiz's eyes dropped to the radio, his glare slipping a bit. "So it's true," he said bitterly. "The radio was yours.
You're
the traitor communicating with the invaders."

"The radio is mine," Akim acknowledged. "But I'm not in communication with the invaders. In fact, the invaders don't even know these exist. They operate in a special and undetectable way, piggybacking their signal onto the invaders' own radio communications. They can thus send messages back and forth without the invaders ever noticing a transmission or being able to search and lock onto it."

And then, to Daulo's amazement, Akim looked at Daulo and smiled. "The technique, and the radios themselves," he added, "were created in large part by Fadil Sammon, son of Daulo Sammon."

Daulo felt his mouth drop open. Fadil had done
that.
"But you said..."

"I said you and your son were traitors," Akim said, "and for that I beg your forgiveness. But it was necessary that we prevent Shahni Haafiz from traveling to Purma, and you were the only excuse I could think of to give him."

"But how could he have stopped Jin Moreau and the Cobras from aiding us?" Daulo asked in bewilderment. There was something here he still wasn't getting. "He's only one voice of many, and you said the Shahni had already approved the treaty. Wouldn't it require all the Shahni together to abrogate it?"

"It would," Omnathi said quietly. "If there were any Shahni left."

"God above," Haafiz said, his voice sounding shaken, his anger gone for the first time since the meeting began. "They're dead?
All
of them?"

"All of them," Omnathi said. "Killed during the defense of our world."

"And even you escaped Sollas only by the barest of margins," Akim added. "Either the soldiers who confronted us didn't recognize you, or else they deliberately let you leave in hopes that you would travel to Purma and unwittingly identify the military leaders to their drones." He waved a hand around them. "Yet another reason Moffren Omnathi and I felt it vital to hide you here."

Haafiz looked at him, then at Daulo, and finally at Narayan. "Then Qasama is gone," he said. "We have enemies on all sides, and you've deliberately prevented the one remaining leader from resuming command of our defense."

"There are other leaders, Your Excellency," Omnathi assured him. "Military leaders, who can see past old memories to what must be done for our world."

"If you believe that, then you're a fool," Haafiz said bluntly. "The Cobra Worlds care nothing for us beyond our destruction."

"I think not," Akim said. "They have, in fact, already given us a great gift."

Haafiz snorted. "The
gift
of demon warriors who will soon stab us in the back?"

"You may not like this, Your Excellency," Akim warned. "In fact, I'm quite certain you won't. But it's now time for you to know the rest of it."

He gestured. "So if Ifrit Narayan will take his Djinn and Daulo Sammon out of the room, Moffren Omnathi and I will tell you about a project called
Isis

* * *

Merrick's usual morning routine involved sleeping or at least dozing until the breakfast tray arrived at his cell, then doing some exercises and plotting escape until lunch. But not this morning. He and Anya were awakened an hour after dawn by a pair of soldiers whose armor bore the curlies, highlighted in red, of the Balin'ekha'spmi demesne. Ukuthi's personal guard, Merrick tentatively concluded. The soldiers brought new clothing for both humans—simple, unadorned gray jumpsuits—and an order from Ukuthi to dress quickly and accompany the soldiers to his warship.

Merrick also noted with some dark amusement that the soldiers seemed a bit jumpier than the other soldiers he'd encountered so far in this war. Ukuthi had probably alerted them as to exactly who and what they were dealing with.

They needn't have worried. Merrick had already given his word.

More than that, he'd done some serious thinking since yesterday's conversation. And while he wasn't yet ready to commit to Ukuthi's insane mission he had some definite ideas of how it might be done.

He would need help, of course. Five to ten Qasamans, or an equal number of Cobras if he could get his hands on them. His father hadn't specified in that hurried Dida conversation back at Milika how many Cobras he and Jin had brought from Caelian, but surely they'd brought at least that many. Assuming they could spare a few, and assuming Ukuthi had been right about being able to disguise any equipment they wanted to smuggle onto Anya's world, this whole thing might actually be possible.

The soldiers had a ground vehicle waiting at the subcity exit when they emerged into the sunlight. Merrick winced as they rode across the battered landscape, both at the horrible wasteland Sollas had become and also at the sheer number of Troft warships gathered on the plains north of where the city had once stood. Whatever the Qasamans were planning at Azras, it had better be good.

The Balin ships, as best as Merrick could read the curlies, were gathered together at the eastern end of the group. The driver steered the car to the base of one of them and tapped a signaling button on the control board.

And to Merrick's surprise, one of the warship's bow doors opened and Ukuthi stepped out. [The vehicle, remain in it,] he called to Merrick as he strode up to the car. [The Drim'hco'plai command ship, I am ordered to report to it.]

An unpleasant tingle ran up Merrick's back. [The battle, it has begun?] he asked as he slid hastily across the seat to give Ukuthi room to get in.

[The battle, I have yet seen no signs of it,] the other said. [Commander Inxeba, I believe he merely wishes to consult with his colleagues.]

Merrick grabbed for a handrail as the car lurched forward again. [Slaves, are they also invited to this meeting?] he asked pointedly.

[A problem, it will not be one.] Ukuthi paused. [My proposal, have you given more thought to it?]

[The proposal, I have given a great deal of thought to it,] Merrick assured him. [The details, I will wish to discuss them further.]

[Further discussion, I will look forward to it.] Ukuthi gestured to Anya. [A slave, you must now behave as one. Anya Winghunter's behavior and manner, you must imitate them.]

Merrick grimaced. He hadn't thought about that aspect of this masquerade. If the other Trofts tumbled to the fact that he wasn't, in fact, one of Ukuthi's slaves, there would be serious hell to pay.

Still, if he wanted to monitor Ukuthi's behavior during the upcoming action and confirm he wasn't helping the Drim against the Qasamans, this was where he needed to be. [My best, I will do it,] he told the other.

There were four soldiers waiting at the base of the Drim command ship when the Balin car arrived. Merrick thought he saw some surprise in their faces when Ukuthi strode toward them with a pair of human slaves in tow, but it might have been his imagination. Certainly neither of them said anything. Two of the soldiers ushered the visitors through the bow door into what seemed to be a guard room, then led the way up a switchback stairway to the ship's top deck. There, they were shown into a conference room where four Trofts wearing senior officers' insignia and identical sets of curlies were already seated on upholstered couches.

The couches, Merrick noted, came equipped with small control boards and tables to hold the Trofts' drinks. A fifth couch, currently unoccupied, had a drink poured and waiting.

The soldiers had been too polite or too discreet to mention Ukuthi's slave entourage. But one of the officers had no such compunctions. [The meaning, what is this?] he demanded, glaring at Merrick and Anya. [Commander Ukuthi, does he now bring slaves to military conferences?]

[Commander Ukuthi, he is training them to military capabilities,] Ukuthi said calmly. [Constant service, I require them to learn it.]

[Unseemly, it is,] the other Troft growled. [Commander Inxeba's slaves, he has not brought them.] He gestured to the other Drim officers. [My officers, their slaves they have also left elsewhere.]

[Commander Inxeba's forgiveness, I ask it,] Ukuthi said. [My departure, do you wish it?]

Inxeba sent Merrick another glare, but pointed to the empty couch. [Your presence, I request it,] he said tartly. [The slaves, they will stand silently]

Ukuthi looked at Merrick as he settled onto his couch. [Silence, you will maintain it,] he ordered.

Anya bowed. Merrick caught the beginning of the gesture in time to follow suit. [The order, we obey it,] she said. She looked sideways at Merrick and gave a small warning shake of her head.

Merrick nodded back and remained silent. Apparently, all the members of a group of slaves were to bow, but it was sufficient for only one of them to acknowledge a general order.

[The purpose of this meeting, what is it?] Ukuthi asked as he sampled his drink.

[Activity in Purma, it has suddenly increased,] Inxeba said, pointing to one of a bank of sixty small monitors arrayed across two of the room's walls. That particular display showed an aerial view of a city intersection, with twenty Qasamans moving purposefully around the area. At the bottom of the image were the words
Purma/Five
in cattertalk script. [A SkyJo lair, it is,] Inxeba identified the view. [The Qasamans' attack helicopters, they are about to deploy them.]

Merrick frowned. Ukuthi had predicted an attack, but in Azras, not Purma. Had he been wrong? Or was Purma just a diversion?

Ukuthi was apparently wondering along the same lines. [The SkyJos, have you yet seen one?] he asked.

[The SkyJos, I have not seen them,] Inxeba admitted. [A SkyJo lair, I am still convinced it is.]

[The truth, perhaps you speak it,] Ukuthi said. [Azras, is there activity there?]

[Activity, it is also occurring in Azras,] Inxeba said, a note of impatience in his voice. [But the activity, it is less urgent. Purma, the center of enemy government it is. Purma, from there will the enemy's next attack arise.]

[Purma, the attack will perhaps arise from there,] Ukuthi said noncommittally. [The truth, you appear to have it. My presence, why have you requested it?]

[Strategic command, the Drim'hco'plai have given you,] Inxeba said, and there was no mistaking the resentment in his tone. [Commander Goqana, he requests your approval for my action.]

[Your action, what form does it take?] Ukuthi asked.

The Drim commander launched into a convoluted explanation, much of it involving military terms that Merrick didn't know. As he listened with half an ear, he looked across the rest of the monitor bank until he found the set of eight images that were marked with the identifying word
Azras.
Like the Purma cityscape, all the Azras images were coming from hovering drones. All eight showed the same sort of street activity that the Purma drones were watching, though as Inxeba had said the Azras version didn't seem nearly as intense or surreptitious.

He frowned as something odd caught his eye. The eight Azras monitors showed street activity; but it was the
same
street activity. Whoever was directing operations had apparently been intrigued enough by what was happening on that particular street to gather all the drones together to monitor it.

Leaving the rest of the city completely unwatched.

Merrick's guess had been right. Purma was a diversion.

He stole a look at Inxeba. The Drim commander was still gazing intently at the wrong displays, his radiator membranes fluttering slowly with anticipation of the coup he was fully expecting to achieve today.

[Slave.]

Startled, Merrick looked at Ukuthi. The Balin commander was pointing at his empty glass.

[Your wish, we obey it,] Anya said. Nudging Merrick, she nodded across the room to a sideboard where a large, half-full pitcher sat on a cooling plate.

Merrick nodded back and crossed to the pitcher. It was heavier than it looked, but his arm servos were more than up to the task. Returning to Ukuthi's couch, he carefully refilled the glass. [The others, you will serve them,] Ukuthi said when he'd finished.

[The order, I obey it,] Merrick said, wincing. Here he was, trying to hold still and remain invisible; and here Ukuthi was, thrusting him squarely into the center of attention.

But for all he didn't know about proper slave protocol, he
did
know that he wasn't supposed to argue with his master. Steeling himself, he set off around the room, stopping at each of the occupied couches and topping off the other Trofts' drinks.

To his mild surprise, none of them looked at him. Certainly none of them thanked him. It was entirely possible, in fact, that they didn't even notice him. Perhaps that was the point Ukuthi had intended to make.

Still, Merrick didn't breathe easy again until he'd finished his task, returned the pitcher to the sideboard, and resumed his place at Anya's side.

[My thought, I will give it to your proposal,] Ukuthi continued, gesturing to the Purma displays. [My attention, I will now give it to the situation.]

His eyes flicked to Merrick. [Useful knowledge, I will hope to gain it.]

Merrick swallowed hard, his eyes on the Azras displays. There was useful knowledge out there, all right. Ukuthi seemed to have already spotted it.

The question was whether Inxeba would also pick up on it in time. Merrick would bet heavily that he wouldn't.

The Qasamans of Azras were betting, too. Only they were betting their lives. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN