Zero Recall (29 page)

It was the Grekkon who
broke the silence.  The voicebox affixed to the small concavity in the
underside of his plated body said, “
I’m a PlanOps Battlemaster.  I’m here to
kill Dhasha.  Why do we stand around?
”

“I agree,” Daviin said. 
“They know we’re here, but they don’t know where.  As long as we keep to the
slave tunnels and stay out of the main shafts, we should be able to surprise
them.”

“How?” Jer’ait demanded,
turning on the Jreet, who remained invisible.  “They can hear your echolocation
and as soon as they see one of us, all bets are off.  This isn’t a training
mission—these Dhasha are on high alert.  The moment we step in the main shaft,
we’re all going to die.”

“I could lie in wait.”

“Blind?”  Jer’ait
snorted.

“If I have to, yes,”
Daviin said tightly.

Scarab interrupted
again.  “
My species spent six million turns on Grek learning how to surprise
our enemies.  If we can separate the Dhasha, I can give the Jreet the surprise
he needs to overpower them.
”

Joe nodded.  “Show us.”

CHAPTER 16:  The Best Laid Plans…

Daviin dangled from the
ceiling, his scales tingling with the higher energy level, listening to the
Dhasha lord striding closer.  It was a small one, but still easily large enough
to rip him apart, should things go wrong.

“Flea and Jer’ait say
it’s clear,” Galek whispered into his ear.

Daviin winced as the
Ooreiki then scrambled away from his coils, making a rustling sound deeper in
the tunnel behind him.  Below, the Dhasha paused.  Daviin could hear its
indestructible scales grate against each other as it cocked its head, waiting
for the sound to come again.

Come on,
Daviin
thought, growing frustrated.  It was the first target that had shown itself
without other Dhasha nearby.

To his relief, the Dhasha
grunted and the sounds of his talons scuffing against the floor resumed as he
continued his walk.

They are so arrogant,
Daviin thought.  A Jreet warrior would have vanished instantly.  This one
simply strutted along, unafraid.

A moment later, its
hulking body passed under Daviin.  Daviin dropped from the ceiling, landing
atop its cold, massive back.  As the Dhasha tensed, Daviin whipped his body down
and under, twisting violently around his victim’s middle, knocking the Dhasha
off its feet and immobilizing his dangerous talons in one swift, bone-breaking
cinching motion.  As the Dhasha began to struggle, its powerful legs flailing
for purchase, Daviin tightened his body around the creature’s thick neck.  He
felt the familiar pressure of constriction as he threw more coils around the
stronger creature, careful to keep his body away from the black rows of
triangular, razor teeth. 

He tensed his muscles,
tightening down on the massive neck and torso.  The sheer
weight
of a
Dhasha left him straining, the power behind its muscles hard to control.  For a
moment, Daviin thought that he would lose his grip and allow the razor claws to
tear him apart.  For several tics, the Dhasha twisted, writhed, and struggled. 
Slowly, it made a strangled, gasping roar through its meaty neck and went
still.

As soon as the Dhasha had
exhausted itself, Daviin began throwing loop after loop around it, tightening
until the force of his coils began to force the air from the Dhasha’s chest in
a fleshy gurgle.

To finish it, Daviin
ripped away a huge rainbow-colored scale under the creature’s neck, then
followed with the smaller golden underlayer.  He felt the Dhasha sluggishly try
to struggle again as it realized what would come next.  Daviin slammed his tek
into the creature’s body, ending its protests. 

“That’s some good stuff,”
Joe said, once Daviin had extracted all seven rods of his length from around the
body, “Didn’t even twitch.”  The Human gave the ceiling a dubious glance.  “Are
you sure you can get it back up there?”

Muscles quivering from
the pressure he had exerted on the Dhasha, Daviin merely grunted.  He wrapped
the end of his body around the Dhasha’s neck and pushed his head through the
hologram masking the hole in the ceiling.  Above, the Ooreiki watched
nervously, the Grekkon backed into the wall beside him.

“He’s got it,” Galek
said.

Scarab pushed its body
deeper into the wall, then up, then around, popping back into the tunnel six digs
above where he had exited.  In less than a tic, he had a niche for the Dhasha’s
body.

Daviin slid forward until
he felt the first bit of strain from his grip on the Dhasha’s neck.  “A little
help,” he muttered.

The Ooreiki jerked
sheepishly and hurried to the center of the tunnel.  There, he grabbed Daviin
around the torso, seemingly oblivious to the tek
’s
sheath he hugged, and
added his strength, giving Daviin a more stable basis with which to use his
upper body as a fulcrum.  With some effort, the Dhasha’s head appeared in the
hole.  Galek ran to grab the corpse behind its massive jaw, and together they
levered its mass into their tunnel.  The Human, who only stood to be crushed by
the forces involved, stood out of the way to watch. 

Once they had the Dhasha
entombed, Daviin pulled himself into a coil to rest.  The dual load of forming
his energy-shield and wrestling a Dhasha into submission was bringing on the
familiar after-battle exhaustion that Daviin had experienced many times
before.  He would need a few hours to recuperate.

“Everyone quiet,” their
Prime said once the Ooreiki had helped him back in the Grekkon’s tunnel.  “Flea
says they heard us.”

Not two seconds later, a
group of Dhasha came barreling down the tunnel beneath them, their cold green
eyes glittering with mad rage.  They passed without slowing.

“They’ll be back,” Joe
whispered.  “I just hope Jer’ait’s smart enough to—oh, ash.”

“What?”  Daviin swiveled
around.  Behind him, Joe and Galek looked petrified, staring into space as they
listened to something Daviin couldn’t hear.  The Human’s skin had paled,
moisture beading on his forehead.  The Ooreiki’s liquid brown eyes were wide,
the slitted black pupils fully dilated.

“They got Flea,” Galek
cried.  Even as Daviin turned to chastise the Ooreiki for being so loud, a
flash of rainbow appeared in the opening behind him.

“Found you,” the Dhasha
said, its unholy emerald eyes glittering Death.

#

Jer’ait followed the
Baga’s corpse at a distance, staying out of sight.  A Dhasha’s purple-scaled
slave was carrying it a pace in front of its master, the Takki’s cerulean,
egg-shaped eyes downcast.  Behind the Takki, the Dhasha strutted like a
gem-studded tank.  Its massive body and stubby legs made for an awkward shuffle
behind the more elegant violet biped, who held the Baga’s corpse out before it
with two scaly purple arms that resembled Joe’s. 

They were taking the pest
back to the deep den, a prize to show their leader.

Jer’ait ducked into a
slave tunnel, deciding to take a less obvious route.  He was halfway to the
Takki living-quarters when the Grekkon’s voice said over the local channel, “
They
got the Ooreiki and the Prime.  The Jreet escaped in a side tunnel after
killing one of them, but I think he’s injured, possibly fatal.  He’s raised his
energy level—I have no idea where he went.  What should I do?
”

Jer’ait hesitated,
considering.  “
Did the Dhasha sever the Jreet’s head or separate its body in
any way?
”

“
No.
”

“
Then it will live. 
Worry about yourself, for now.  They’ll send Takki after you.  Escape to the
surface if you have to, but meet me back at our penetration point in two hours.
”

“
Very well.
”  The
Grekkon said nothing more.

Now was an excellent time
to abandon the Human.  Jer’ait had suspected from the beginning that the
Trith’s message had been a fake, and this was perfect proof.  Three of their
team dead, one incommunicado, the rest of the six battalions destroyed. 
Headquarters would welcome a retreat with open arms, considering the
intelligence they had gained in the process. 

Yet, he had his orders. 
The Human was to survive until the Vahlin was dead.

Jer’ait took a deep
breath and moved deeper into the tunnels.

When Jer’ait reached the
deep den, the first thing he realized was that the Human was still fully
conscious.  The Ooreiki lay in a tentacled, fleshy heap on the floor, its
biosuit closed over whatever wounds it had endured in its capture.  If it was
still alive, it was just barely.

The Human, meanwhile,
spat a continuous stream of invective intended to provoke his captors into
killing him—a final attempt to protect the rest of his team.  The prince seemed
oblivious.  He was listening to a report by one of his lieutenants.

“It’s a five-part com
system.  That means there’s two more members out there.”

“A Grekkon and a Huouyt.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then who killed my
heir?”

“Our guess is the
Grekkon, sir.  He stayed behind to watch the tunnel.  The Grekkon could have
surprised him from above.”

“Why would they send a
five-member groundteam?” the prince demanded.  “I was told it would be six. 
PlanOps always sends six.”

Jer’ait dropped to his
knees to aid another Takki in removing Dhasha waste from the floor as he
listened.  Beside him, the slave didn’t even look up.  It simply continued
dragging its scaly violet hands through the excrement—much of which contained
the undigested bones of Takki—and kept its pupilless, gemlike blue eyes focused
on the floor.

When the lieutenants had
no opinions to offer, the prince turned to the Human and casually batted him
aside, cutting off his curses abruptly.  Jer’ait watched the suit seal over the
angry red wounds on the inside and wondered if the Human had been dealt a
killing blow.

He hadn’t.  He groaned as
the Dhasha prince flipped him over and pressed a stubby paw to his chest, razor
black talons poised to sink into his organs.  Into the Human’s face, the prince
said, “What species is the sixth member of your groundteam?  Which one are we
missing?”

Jer’ait tensed.  The
Jreet was their best hope of getting out alive.  If the Human gave him away...

“We’ve only got five,”
the Human said.

The Dhasha tensed the
muscles in his foot, sinking the claws through the biosuit and into the Human’s
chest.  Joe let out a wretched scream. 

“Slave, scan him.”  A
Takki rushed forward and pressed a small metallic device to the Human’s head. 
“We know you’re lying.  Tell me again how many were in your group.”  He sank
his talons deeper.

“Five,” the Human
screamed.

The prince looked up. 
“Well?”

“The truth, master,” a
Takki said, pulling the scanner away from the Human’s head.

“These Humans, have they
the Huouyt’s ability to lie?”

No, they don’t,
Jer’ait thought, perplexed.

The Takki checked the
instrument’s database and said, “No, sire.  Their mental energies are quite
straightforward.”

The prince grunted and
returned his attention to the Human.  “Why five?  The Ground Force works in
increments of six.”

“Because the Prime told
him to burn off.”  Joe’s breaths were coming in small pants, his face twisted
in pain.  “He wouldn’t follow orders.”

Jer’ait stood from his
place beside the Takki cleaning the floor and wove his way through the
congregated Dhasha.  Without being told, he began to groom the prince.

The prince ignored him
completely.  To his lieutenants, he said, “Nehi, Glahs, you stay here and guard
the captives.  The rest of you I want in the tunnels, figuring out where the
hell the other two of them are.”

Jer’ait felt a wave of
frustration as the two largest Dhasha took positions near the entrances to the
den.  He had an entire array of poisons on his person, but unless he could get
the prince alone, there was no way he could use them without being torn to
pieces afterward.  As it was, if he wasn’t careful, the prince could kill him
in his death throes.  It would only take one stray talon to rip him open from
throat to abdomen.

“Harder, slave,” the
prince barked at him.  “
Scratch
, don’t rub.”

Seething, Jer’ait reached
under the golden sub-scales and began clawing away huge portions of stale,
rancid-smelling flesh.  Biting red parasites came off with the administration
of his claws, falling to the ground and scuttling across the floor looking for
another host.  Around him, other Takki materialized to help, each taking a
position on their master’s body seemingly at random.  The prince gave a
contented sigh and shuffled over to the pillows surrounding his brooding
females and stretched out to give his slaves better access.

Jer’ait got a good look
at his groundmates as he worked and immediately felt a pang of worry.  Joe was
unconscious, now, and his breathing was shallow enough to suggest his biosuit
had shut off his body functions to prolong death.  The Ooreiki had been in that
state for almost half an hour now.

“Scratch harder!” the
prince roared again.

Jer’ait glanced again at
the two unconscious bodies on the other side of the room. 
Leave them,
his mind screamed at him. 
The Trith’s message was a hoax.  He will not kill
the Vahlin.  They are no use to you now.

Yet, every time Jer’ait
considered getting up and leaving the den, he was haunted by an image of the Human
standing over him, running off one of his brother’s agents while he lay drugged
and helpless.

Jer’ait gritted his
borrowed Takki jaw, and scratched.

#

Daviin came to a halt
when the slave tunnel widened enough for him to double back upon himself and
check his wounds.