Cobra Slave-eARC (6 page)

And to Jody’s relief Lorne trotted up to the group. “Lorne!” she said, getting a hand under her and starting to get up.

“No—just stay there another minute,” Lorne said, squatting down beside de Portola and gently but firmly pushing Jody’s shoulders back onto the cold pavement. “You caught a sonic blast, and your balance is probably still shaky. You okay otherwise?”

“Yes, I think so,” Jody said. “I was—”

And suddenly, it all flooded back to her. “Lorne—my recorder!” she gasped. “The Marines have it.”

“No, it’s okay,” Werle said quickly. He dug the recorder out of his pocket and pressed it into her hand. “We got it back.”

“Thank you,” Jody breathed, closing her fingers tightly around the recorder, feeling the sudden spike in her heart rate start to slow down again.

“You can thank us by telling us what the hell is going on,” Lorne said a little gruffly. “What’s Uncle Corwin afraid of? That the Dominion will find out about your embarrassing taste in music?”

Jody flashed a look at each of the other two Cobras. “I don’t—”

“And if you’re thinking about going all dark and mysterious, don’t,” Lorne said firmly. “Badj and Dill just attacked a pair of Dominion Marines. Their necks are stuck out all the way into the next province on this one. They deserve to know what fire they just pulled your butt out of.”

Jody grimaced. But he was right. “You remember Uncle Corwin telling us at dinner that the Dominion is looking for Qasama?”

Lorne nodded. “Of course.”

“They’re looking for Qasama?” Werle cut in, frowning. “What in the Worlds for?”

“Nothing good, I’ll bet,” de Portola said. “From everything I’ve read of Dominion history—”

Lorne silenced him with a gesture. “What does this have to do with you?” he asked Jody.

She braced herself. “Qasama’s coordinates are on my recorder.”

The three men looked at each other. “So erase them,” de Portola said.

“Or if you want them really erased, let me do it,” Werle suggested, holding out his hand. “A couple of arcthrower shots, and they won’t even be able to tell that it was a recorder anymore.”

“It’s not that easy,” Jody said, clutching the recorder to her chest. “There’s other data there that I have to keep, and it’s all multi-laced. I can’t explain any further.”

“Okay,” Lorne said, clearly puzzled but also clearly willing to let her run with this. “So what’s the plan? I assume from the fact you were with Uncle Corwin that there was a plan?”

“I was trying to get to Esquiline,” Jody told him. “The Southern Cross is right across town, but it’s full. He was hoping he could twist Chintawa’s arm and get me aboard.”

“No chance of that now,” Lorne said, scratching his cheek. “Dill; Badj? Any ideas?”

“She could come to Archway with us,” de Portola suggested doubtfully. “Lots of places there where we could stash her for awhile.”

“No, I have to get off-planet,” Jody insisted. “I need to be able to…go. Other places.”

“Like Qasama?” de Portola asked pointedly.

“Just other places,” Jody said. “Look if you can’t help—”

“What about the Troft ship?” Werle asked suddenly.

“What Troft ship?” Lorne asked.

“There’s a Hoibie merchant on Aventine,” Werle said. “He was in Capitalia this morning, but I think he’s in Pindar right now.”

“Yes, he is,” de Portola confirmed. “I heard a couple of people in town talking about Hoibie shipments being due in this afternoon, and about damn time, too.”

“If we hurry, we should be able to get her there before he leaves.” Werle looked at Jody. “If you don’t mind traveling with Trofts, that is.”

“Riding a Hoibie ship will be a lot safer than sticking around here right now,” Jody said, suppressing a fresh flicker of uneasiness. A Tlossie ship she would have jumped at without hesitation, especially after all the time they’d spent with the Tlossie demesne-lord’s third-heir. But she didn’t know the Hoibies nearly so well.

But it was her best chance. Possibly her only chance. “The question will be whether or not I can get them to take me aboard,” she added.

“We’ll manage,” Lorne said, eyeing her closely. “My question is, where are they headed after they leave Aventine?”

“Anywhere will do,” Jody assured him, a sudden thought flicking across her mind. Esquiline was out, she realized now. With the Dominion fully aware that her entire family was involved, Aunt Fay’s house would be the first off-planet location that would pop up on their list. Depending on how badly they wanted her, they could find her there without much trouble.

On the other hand, if she could persuade the Hoibies to tweak their delivery schedule, maybe she could get them to take her somewhere a little less obvious.

Specifically, Caelian.

She didn’t have any family there, but she had friends. Lots of friends. Also lots of places she could hide from any Dominion force foolish enough to come after her. “And we’re wasting time,” she said, once again getting her hands beneath her. This time Lorne didn’t push her back down, but simply caught her arm and helped her to her feet. She wavered a moment, clenching her teeth as a wave of dizziness washed over her. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Right,” Werle said. Scooping up the folded jacket that Jody’s head had been resting on, he shook it out and put it on. “I’ll go get the car. With luck, we’ll be in the air before the Marines even wake up.”

#

Barrington just managed to get his last tunic fastener closed before the conference room door slid open in front of him. “All right, I’m here,” he growled. “What’s all the—?”

He broke off, silently cursing himself for his carelessness. Colonel Reivaro, the man who’d sent Barrington the urgent wake-up call, was standing behind the long table, his expression just short of explosive.

But he wasn’t alone. Seated at the head of the table was Commodore Santores.

And even a Dominion captain didn’t barge into the presence of a superior officer without the utmost decorum. “My apologies, Commodore,” Barrington said hastily, coming to quick and belated attention. At least he’d managed to have his uniform in proper order before the door opened.

“Sit down, Captain,” Santores said, his voice giving no indication that he’d even noticed Barrington’s lack of proper manners. “We have a situation.”

“Yes, sir,” Barrington said, sitting down in his usual place at Santores’s left.

Santores made a small gesture. “Colonel?”

“Earlier this afternoon, as ordered, I placed Cobra Lorne Broom under observation,” Reivaro said, his voice stiff and formal. “The Marines were instructed to make sure he returned to his quarters after dinner.” His throat tightened. “Somewhere on the drive back to the Dome he managed to give them the slip.”

Barrington looked at Santores, but the commodore’s face was giving nothing away. “How?” he asked Reivaro.

“We still don’t know,” the colonel admitted. “His disappearance was quickly noted, though, and immediately reported. Also reported was the fact that Cobra Broom’s sister Jody had left the Moreau home shortly after Cobra Broom’s departure in a car with her great uncle and aunt. As we now had indications of coordinated action, I ordered a second Marine dyad to intercept the Moreaus and bring Jody Broom here.”

“As bait to lure in her brother?” Barrington asked.

“Or as leverage,” Reivaro said. “But the point is moot. The car bringing her in was ambushed, the dyad rendered unconscious, and Ms. Broom has also now disappeared.”

Barrington winced. Dominion Marines didn’t take well to being bested, especially not as quickly and easily as Reivaro made it sound. “Her escape was engineered by Cobra Broom, I assume?”

“Oh, there’s no doubt about that,” Reivaro said icily. “But he didn’t do it directly. We have security footage of him at a patroller station at the time of the attack. Obtained after the fact, unfortunately. Obviously an attempt to buy himself an alibi while a group of his fellow Cobras carried out the actual extraction.”

“Do we know how many Cobras there were?”

“No,” Reivaro growled. “The Marines didn’t see their attackers, and we haven’t found any visual record of the incident itself. I’m told the city’s security monitor system was deactivated by the Trofts during the occupation, and Chintawa hasn’t yet seen fit to reactivate it.”

“I see,” Barrington murmured, his own comment earlier that afternoon flashing back to mind. The Cobras might be utilizing hundred-year-old technology, but that tech was apparently good enough to take out two Dominion Marines.

Of course, the Marines had been taken by surprise, with their movements severely limited by the car they were in. Under those conditions, a mob armed with nothing more than wooden clubs could probably have taken them out. “Do we have any idea where either the brother or sister are now?”

“Not yet,” Reivaro said, clearly clamping down hard on his temper. “But we’ve questioned the parents and the Moreaus, and stress-matrix analysis indicates that Jody was trying to get off-world. Possibly Lorne, too—the family wasn’t sure about him.”

Barrington felt his eyebrows rise a millimeter or two. A surprisingly brazen move, trying to sneak off-world, especially considering that there were three Dominion of Man warships orbiting overhead. “The spaceport’s been locked down, I presume?”

“Yes, sir.” Reivaro snorted. “For all the good that’ll do.”

“Because,” Santores said heavily, “we believe they’re already off Aventine.”

Barrington frowned. How could they have—?

And then he got it. “The Troft merchant ship.”

“So we believe,” Santores confirmed. “By the time Colonel Reivaro had sorted through the information and interrogation data, the Troft had already left Aventine. It lifted from the city of Pindar…where an aircar from Capitalia arrived approximately an hour before his departure.”

“Which I again don’t believe was a coincidence,” Reivaro said. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re have growing evidence of a massive conspiracy.”

Barrington gave a little shrug; agreement or acknowledgment, however Reivaro wanted to take it. “Do we have a plan yet on how to proceed?” he asked, turning to Santores.

“We do,” Santores said. “While Colonel Reivaro continues the investigation here, you’ll take the Dorian to the Hoibe’ryi’sarai home world and bring the fugitives back.”

Barrington felt his eyes widen. “Excuse me, sir?” he asked carefully.

“Relax, Captain,” Santores said, smiling slightly. “We’re not talking about a one-ship invasion of a Troft demesne. You’ll merely be carrying a message from Governor-General Chintawa requesting the Brooms’ extradition. He’s already assured me that their demesne-lord will honor it.”

“I see,” Barrington said, trying to read past his commander’s controlled expression. “In that case, why not send one of my couriers? I can have the Hermes detached and ready to fly in five hours.”

“I’d prefer that our initial show of presence be a bit more dramatic,” Santores said. “And with a ranking officer in command.”

“Yes, sir,” Barrington said, forcing back a frown. Something felt off-kilter here, but he couldn’t figure out what. “In that case, Commodore, I need to return to the Dorian and make preparations for our departure.”

“Indeed you do, Captain,” Santores agreed. “Check in with me before you leave orbit for any final data or instructions. Dismissed.”

It wouldn’t do, Barrington knew, to question a superior’s orders or information in that superior’s presence. He therefore waited until he was two corridors away from the conference room before keying his comm for Meekan.

Barrington had been called out of bed for his emergency meeting with Santores and Reivaro. By all rights his aide should have answered the call in a similar bleary-eyed state. But to Barrington’s complete lack of surprise, his cornea projector came on to show Meekan awake and properly dressed in full day uniform. Once again, the unofficial ship’s grapevine had done an efficient job of alerting subordinates to sudden changes in their superiors’ schedules. “Yes, Captain?” Meekan said briskly.

“I want you to do a search through Aventine’s official computer system,” Barrington said. “I’m told that Cobra Lorne Broom and his sister Jody have disappeared and are possibly off-world. I want some evidence one way or the other.”

“Yes, sir,” Meekan said, taking the order in his usual calm stride. “Anything else?”

“That should do for now,” Barrington said. “Connect me to CoNCH, then get busy.”

“Yes, sir.”

The projected image winked out and was replaced a few seconds later by a view of Commander Garrett in the CoNCH command chair. “Captain,” Garrett greeted him as briskly as Meekan had. “You’re up early.”

“You have no idea,” Barrington told him. “New orders, Commander. We’re taking the Dorian to the home world of the Hoibe’ryi’sarai Troft demesne. We have the coordinates?”

Garrett’s eyes widened, just noticeably. But like Meekan, he’d been in the Fleet long enough to have learned how to take even the most bizarre orders without question. “Yes, sir, we do,” he confirmed. “Do we have an ETD?”

“Nothing official,” Barrington said. “But I doubt the commodore will be pleased if we dawdle.”

“Understood, sir,” Garrett said. “I’ll start prep immediately. When will you be back?”

“I have a few things to finish up down here first, but I should be leaving within the hour.”

“Yes, sir,” Garrett said. “I’ll alert your launch crew to begin pre-flight.”

“Very good, Commander,” Barrington said. “Captain out.”

He keyed off the comm and resumed his walk toward his quarters. He hadn’t brought very much down from the ship, but those few items needed to be packed. Someone else could do that, and probably should, but at this point it would be quicker for Barrington to do it himself than to roust a yeoman out of bed.

His comm toned with Meekan’s ident, and Barrington again twitched on his projector. “Is there a problem, Lieutenant?”

“No problem, sir,” Meekan said. “I have a preliminary report. So far I haven’t found anything current for Jody Broom. But Lorne Broom has been added to today’s Cobra duty roster in DeVegas province.”

“Really,” Barrington said, frowning. Still, it could be nothing more than a leftover scheduling fragment from when Broom was supposed to be heading back there this morning. “When was the update?”