So what? he thought. Lark saw smears, like grease stains on the metal plating. Traeki often do that.

Then he blinked, recognizing Anglic letters. One, two,' three . . . four of them.

REWQ.

"What the . . . ?" Rann puzzled aloud. '

Lark raised a hand to his forehead, where his rewq symbiont lay waiting for its next duty while supping lightly

from his veins. At a touch, it swarmed over his eyes, recast- j ing the colors in the room. At once, everything changed. Till that moment, the stillquivering flanks of the Jophur had seemed a mottled jumble of distorted shades. But now, rows of letters could be I seen, crisscrossing several older rings. '

lark, the first series began, one ring opens doors. use it. rejoin the six. . . .

A squeal of pain interrupted from Lark's right, unlike any shouted by a mammal. He whirled, and cried, "Stop!"

Rann stood over one of the newly vienned rings, his foot raised to stomp on it a second time. The small creature shook, bleeding waxy fluids from a rent along one flank.

"Why?" the Danik demanded. "You sooners signed our death warrants with that crude missile attack. We might as well get in some of our own."

Ling confronted her former colleague hotly. "Fool! Hyp- j ocrite! You stopped Lark earlier, and now do this? Don't you want to get out of here?"

She bent over the quivering ring and reached toward it nervously, tentatively.

Lark turned back toward the ring stack . . . the corn-, posite being that had somehow managed to become Asx again, in a strange, limited way. The letters were already fading as he read the second line.

Give other to Phwhoon-dau,Lester. he,you, they must This time, the scream was human. Ling! He spun around and rushed to her aid. She held the little wounded torus in one hand while the other clawed over her shoulder at Rann. The male Danik throttled her from behind, his forearm around her throat, closing her windpipe, and possibly her arteries.

Rann heard Lark's irate bellow and swiveled lightly, using Ling's body as a shield while he kept choking her. Rann's face was contorted with pleasure as Lark feinted right, then launched himself at the star warrior's other side. There was no time for finesse as they all toppled together, a grappling ma.s.s of arms and legs.

It might have been an even match, if Ling hadn't pa.s.sed out. But when her body slumped, insensate, Lark had to face Rann's trained fury alone. He managed to get a few blows in, but soon had his hands full just preventing the Rothen agent from striking a vital spot. Finally, in desperation, he threw his arms around Rann, seizing his broad torso in a wrestler's embrace.

His opponent felt confident enough to spare some strength for taunts.

"Darwinist savage , . ." Rann jeered, close to Lark's ear. ". . . devolved ape ..."

Lark managed an insult of his own- "The . . . Rothen . . . are . . . pigs. ..."

Rann snarled and tried to bite his ear. Lark swung his head aside just in time, then slammed it back into Rann's face, breaking his lip.

Abruptly, a stench seemed to swell around their heads, filling Lark's nostrils with a cloying, sickening tang. For an instant he wondered if it was the Danik's body odor. Or else the smell of death.

Rann managed to free a hand and used it to pummel Lark's side. But the pain seemed distant, and the blows vague, unsteady. Vision wavered as the awful smell increased . . . and Lark grew aware that his opponent was being affected, as well.

More so.

In moments, Rann's iron grip let go and the man collapsed away from him. Lark backed up, gasping. Through a haze of wavering consciousness, he noted the source of the stench. The wounded traeki ring had climbed onto Rann's shoulder and was squirting yet another dose of some noxious substance straight into the star G.o.d's face.

Should . . . make it . . . stop, now. Lark thought. An

excess might not just knock Rann out, but kill him. j Life had priorities, though. Fighting exhaustion and the' tempting refuge of sleep, Lark rolled over to seek Ling,', hoping enough life still lingered to be coaxed back into the world.

Blade Dia ". . . THE MOST EFFECTIVE WARHEADS WERE THE ones tipped with toporgic capsules, filled with traeki formula type sixteen an' powdered Buyur metal. Kindle beetles were useful in settin' off the solid rocket cores. A lot of the ones that didn't use beetles either fizzled or blew up on their launchpads. . . ."

Blade listened to the young human recite her report to an urrish telegraph operator, whose keystrokes became fast-departing beams of light. Jeni Shen winced as a pharmacist applied unguents to her singed skin. Her face was soot-covered and the left side of her jerkin gave off smoldering fumes. Jeni's voice was dry as slate and it must have been painful for her to speak, but the recitation continued, nonstop, as if she feared this mountaintop semaph.o.r.e station might be the first target of any Jophur retaliation.

". . . Observers report that the best targeting happened, in rockets that had message-ball critters aboard. Usin' 'ern that way was just a whim of Phwhoon-dau's, so there weren't many. But it seemed to work. Before everything blew up, Lester said we should reexamine all the Buyur critters we know about, in case they have other uses. . . ." i The stone hut was crowded. The missile a.s.sault, and subsequent fires, had sent refugees pouring through the pa.s.ses. Blade was forced to wade through the tide offugi lives in order to reach this militia outpost, where he might make a report of his adventure.

He found the semaph.o.r.e already tied up with frenzied news-about the successful downing of the last Jophur corvette . . . and then the failure of a single rocket even to dent the mother ship. That night of soaring hopes crashed further when casualties became known, including at least one of the High Sages of the Six.

Yet a low level of elation continued. Bad news was only expected. But a taste of victory came amplified by sheer surprise.

Blade recalled vividly the fiery plummet of both burning halves of the ruined starship, setting off firestorms. I'm glad it only landed in boo, he thought. According to the scrolls, Jijo's varied ecosystems weren't equal. Greatboo was a trashy alien invader-like the Six themselves. The planet was not badly wounded by tonight's conflagration.

Me neither, Blade added, wincing as a g'Kek medic tried to set one of his broken legs.

"Just cut it off," he told the doctor. "The other one, too."

"But that will leave you with just three," the g'Kek complained. "How will you walk?"

"I'll manage. Anyway, new ones grow back faster if you cut all the way to the bud. Just get it over with, will you?"

Fortunately, he had managed to land on two legs spread apart at opposite sides of his body. That left a tripod of them to use, dragging himself from the fluttering tangle of fabric and gondola parts. The moonlit mountainside had been rocky and steep, a horrid place for a blue qheuen to find himself stranded on a chill night. But the beckoning glimmer of flashed messages, darting from peak to peak, encouraged him to limp onward until he reached this sanctuary.

So, I'll be able to tell Log Biter my tale, after all. Maybe I'll even write about it. Nelo should provide backing for a small print run, since half of my story involves his daughter. . . .

Blade knew his mind was drifting from thirst, pain, and lack of sleep. But if he rested now he would lose his place in line, right after Jeni Shen. The station commander, hearing of his balloon adventure, had given him a priority just after the official report on the rocket attack.

I should be flattered. But in fact, the rockets are used up. Even if there are some left, the element of surprise is gone. They'll never succeed against theJophur again.

But my idea's not been tried yet. And it'd work! I'm living proof.

The smiths of Blaze Mountain have got to be told.

So he sat and fumed, half listening to Jeni's lengthy, i jargon-filled report, trying to be patient.

When the amputation began, Blade's cupola withdrew instinctively, shielding his eye strip under thick chitin, preventing him from looking around. So he tried pulling his mind back to the time when he briefly flew through the sky . . . the first of his kind to do so since the sneakship came, so long ago.

But a qheuen's memories aren't strong enough to use as a bulwark against pain.

It took three strong hoons to keep the leg straight enough for the medic to do it cleanly, Lark n SECOND STENCH MET HIM WHEN HE WAKED. The first one had smothered cloyingly. When it filled I Ithe little room, the world erased under a blanket of sweet pungency.

The new smell was bitter, tangy, repellent, cleaving the insensate swaddling of unconsciousness. There was no transitory muzziness or confusion. Lark jerked upright while his body convulsed through a series of sharp sneezes. All at once he knew the cell, its metal floor and walls, the cramped despair of this place.

A greasy doughnut shape-purple and still covered with mucus-sent a final stream of misty liquid jetting toward his face. Lark gagged, backing away.

"I'm up! Cut it out, dung eater!"

The room wavered as he turned, searching ... and found Ling close behind, wheezing at the effort of sitting up. Livid marks showed where Rann had throttled her, nearly taking her life.

Lark turned again, scanning for his enemy.

In moments, he spied the Danik agent's bare feet, jutting from beyond the rotund bulk of Ewasx.

Ewasx? Or is it still Asx?

The ring stack shivered. Trails of waxy pus trickled from twin wounds on either side, where the vienned rings had made their escape.

I could try to find out. . . . Try talking to- But Lark saw an orderliness to the trembling toruses. A systematic rhythm. Almost regimented. Warbling sounds escaped the speaking vent.

"H-h-h-alt, humans, . . . I/WE COMMAND . . . obedience. ..."

The voice wavered unevenly, but gained strength with each,pa.s.sing dura.

Ling met his eyes. There was instant rapport. Asx had gone to a lot of trouble to provide gifts. Time to give them a try.

"STOP THAT!" Ewasx adjured. "You are required to ... desist. ..."

Fortunately, the Jophur's limbs were still locked in rigor. The lowermost set shivered with resistance when the master ring tried to make them move.

Asx is still fighting for us, Lark realized, knowing it could not last.

"Use the purple one," he told Ling, who cradled the larger newborn torus. "Asx said it opens locks."

She lifted her eyes doubtfully, but presented the ring to a flat plate beside the door. They had seen Ewasx touch it whenever the Jophur wanted to leave the cell. Meanwhile, Lark used his frayed shirt as a sling to carry the smaller, crimson traeki. The one cruelly injured by Rann. The one Lark was supposed to deliver to the High Sages-an impossible task, even if the mangled thing survived.

A moan echoed from behind Ewasx. It was the Danik warrior, rousing at last. Come on! Lark urged silently, though Ling almost surely had never used such a key to force a lock.

The purple ring oozed a clear fluid from pores near the plate. Clickety sounds followed, as the door mechanism seemed to consider. ...

Then, with a faint hiss, it opened!

He hurried through with Ling, ignoring bitter Jophur curses that followed them until the portal shut again.

"Where now?" Ling asked.

"You're asking me?" He laughed. "You said Galactic ships are standardized!"

She frowned. "The Rothen don't have any battlecruisers like this beast. Neither does Earth. We'd be lucky to glimpse one from afar . . . and even luckier to escape after seeing it."

Lark felt spooky, standing half-naked in an alien pa.s.sageway filled with weird aromas. A Jophur might enter this stretch of corridor at any moment, or else a war robot, come to hunt them down.

The floor plates began vibrating, low at first, but with a rising mechanical urgency.

"Just guess," he urged, trying to offer an encouraging smile.

Ling answered with a shrug. "Well, if we keep going in one direction, sooner or later we're bound to reach hull, Come on, then. Standing still is the worst thing we can do,"

The hallways were deserted.

Occasionally, they hurried past some large chamber and glimpsed Jophur forms within, standing before oddly curved instrument stations, or mingled in swaying groups, communing with clouds of vapor. But the stacks rarely moved. As a biologist, Lark could not help speculating.

They're descended from sedentary creatures, almost sessile. Even with the introduction of master rings, they'd retain some traeki ways, like preferring to work in one place, relatively still.

Lark found it bizarre, striding past closed doors for more than an arrowflight-then another, and a third-using their pa.s.skey ring to open armored hatches along the way, meeting no one. Asx must have taken this into account, giving us even odds of reaching an airlock and . . .

Lark wondered.

And then what? If there are sky boats or hover plates, Ling might understand their principles, but how will she operate controls made for Jophur tentacles?

Maybe we should just head for the engine room. Try to break some machinery. Cause some inconvenience before they finally shoot us down.

Ling picked up the pace, a growing eagerness in her steps. Perhaps she sensed something in the thickness of the armored doors, or the subtly curved wall joins, indicating they were close.

The next hatch slid aside-and without warning they suddenly faced their first Jophur.

Ling gasped and Lark's knees almost failed him. He felt an overpowering impulse to spin around and run away, though it was doubtless already too late. The thing was bigger than Ewasx, with component rings that shimmered a glossy, extravagant health he had never seen on a Jijoan traeki.

The way Rann compares to me, Lark thought numbly.

During that brief instant, his companion lifted the purple ring, aiming it like a gun at the big Jophur.

A stream of scent vapor jetted toward the stack.

It hesitated . . . then raised up on a dozen insectoid legs and sidled past the two humans, proceeding down the hall.

Lark stared after it, numbly.

What was that? A recognition signal? A forged safeconduct pa.s.s?

He could imagine that Asx-wherever the traeki sage had concealed a sliver of self-must have observed all the chemical codes a Jophur used to get around the ship. What Lark could not begin to picture was what kind of consciousness that implied. How could one deliberately hide a personality within a personality, when the new master ring was in charge, pulling all the strings?

The Jophur rounded a corner, moving on about its business.

Lark turned to look at Ling. She met his eyes and together they both let out a hard sigh.

The airiock was filled with machinery, though no boats or hover plates. They closed the inner door and hurried to the other side, applying the trusty pa.s.skey ring, eager to see blue sky and smell Jijo's fresh wind. If they were lucky, and this portal faced the lake, it might even be possible to leap down to the water. Surviving that, their escape could be cut off at any point, once they pa.s.sed into the Jophur defense perimeter. But none of that seemed to matter right now. The two of them felt eager, indomitable.

Lark still cradled the injured red ring, wondering what the sages were supposed to do with it.

Perhaps Asx expects us to recruit commandos and return with exploser bombs, using these rings to gain entry. . . .

His thoughts arrested as the big hatch rolled aside. Their first glimpse was not of daylight, but stars.

An instant's shivering worry pa.s.sed through his mind before he realized-this was not outer s.p.a.ce, but nighttime in the Rimmers. A flood of bracing, cool air made Lark instantly ebullient. I could never leave Jijo, he knew. It's my home.

A pale glow washed out the constellations where a serrated border crossed the sky-the outline of eastern mountains. It would be dawn soon. A time of hopeful beginnings?

Ling held out her free hand for Lark to take as they strode to the edge and looked down.

"So far, so good," she said, and he shared her gladness at the sight of glinting moonlight, sparkling on water. "It's still dim outside. The lake will mask our heat sign. And this time there will be no computer cognizance to give us away."

Nor convenient breathing tubes, to let us stay safe underwater, he almost added, but Lark didn't want to dampen her enthusiasm.

"Let's see if there's anything we can use to get down to the lake, without having to jump," Ling added. Together they inspected the equipment shelves lining one wall of the airiock, until she cried out excitedly. "I found a standard cable reel! Now if only I can figure out the altered controls ..."