“They’re in pretty bad shape,” Allyce said as she carefully straightened up from the twin beds where the Wisps had laid the injured Ponngs, wincing as she strained her own injuries. “No broken bones—which wasn’t from lack of effort on their attackers’ part—multiple epidermal bruises, lacerations, and muscle bruising. Teika has some internal bleeding, and both of them may have some organ damage, but I don’t know enough about their physiology to be sure.”
“So how do you intend to learn?” Nicole asked.
Allyce seemed taken aback. “How do I intend to learn what?”
“They’re hurt,” Nicole said with strained patience. “You’re their doctor. Figure out how to heal them.”
“Nicole, they’re aliens,” Allyce protested. “I don’t have the slightest idea how to treat creatures like this.”
“We could ask the Caretaker,” Jeff suggested.
Allyce frowned. “What does the Caretaker have to do with anything?”
“No, he’s right,” Nicole said, embarrassed that she hadn’t thought of it first. “The Fyrantha used to be a zoo. It must have health data from all sorts of creatures. If we’re lucky, they may have something on Ponngs.”
“I thought we didn’t trust the Caretaker,” Allyce said. “Wasn’t he the one who lured Cambria into the ambush?”
“Yes, but that was probably at the Shipmasters’ instructions,” Nicole said.
“Or the Koffrens’,” Jeff said. “If Nevvis wasn’t lying, they’re the ones calling the shots now.”
“And they may not have the same control of the Caretaker that the Shipmasters had,” Nicole said slowly. Thinking about the Caretaker’s connection with the Shipmasters had started her on an entirely new train of thought. “Even if they do, they may be too busy to notice a request for alien medical information.”
“It’s still risky,” Jeff warned. “We’ll want a team with us.”
“I think you, me, and the four Wisps should do,” Nicole said. “Besides, there’s a little experiment I want to try, and if it doesn’t work we might need a quick exit.”
“We could still bring Iosif,” Jeff suggested. “He seemed hurt that he didn’t get to join into our last outing.”
“Really?” Nicole asked, frowning. “Is this one of those Navy/Marine things?”
“Probably,” Jeff said with a grin. “I’ll go find him. You should probably go see how Levi and Carp are doing with Cambria, anyway.”
Nicole winced. “Yeah. But make it fast. If Ushkai has Ponng medical information, I want Allyce to have it as soon as possible.”
Levi and Carp had set up in the dining room, pushing two of the tables together to make a workstation they could lay Cambria on while they got the spider goo off it. “How’s it going?” Nicole asked as she walked in.
“Slowly,” Levi said. “They slapped it with a lot more shots than they needed just to immobilize it.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Trake,” Nicole said sourly. “If you like doing something, do it as many times as you can. Especially if it makes someone else hurt.”
“I don’t know if it hurts, but it’s got to be damn uncomfortable,” Levi said. He held up the bottle of dissolving liquid. “Speaking of uncomfortable, we’re getting uncomfortably low on this stuff.”
“It’s okay—Jeff’s got another bottle stashed away,” Nicole said. “Do you have enough there to finish with Cambria?”
“I think so,” Levi said, leaning over the Wisp and peering at the remaining goo. “Carp?”
“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” Carp seconded. “But this one will be pretty much dry at that point.”
“We’ll just have to try to limit the number of times we get shot, then,” Nicole said. “Thanks.”
She laid a hand on Cambria’s arm. They’ll have you free soon, she told it. Are you doing all right?
I’m fine, Protector, it replied. The Oracle wishes to speak with you.
Nicole frowned. The Oracle?
Yes.
She looked at Levi, who was carefully squeezing another drop onto the spider goo. If the Caretaker was to be believed, the Oracle was the part of the Fyrantha that spoke for the Shipmasters.
Except when it was speaking for itself to the Sibyls. Nicole still hadn’t figured out how that worked.
She’d heard the Oracle speak before, giving orders and instructions to the combatants in the Fyrantha’s various arenas. But this was the first time it had asked to speak to Nicole personally. Did it say why?
No.
Where can I talk to it? One of the arena hives?
The Oracle will speak to you on level 10 in bahri-four-four-six.
That’s where the Caretaker hangs out.
Yes.
Are the Oracle and Caretaker the same?
No.
Nicole made a face. Back to that again.
Still, she’d been planning to go talk to the Caretaker, anyway. If the Oracle was able to join the party, it would save her a trip. Fine. Tell it I’ll meet it there.
I’ll do so. Thank you.
The door opened behind her. “Ah—Protector,” Kahkitah said as he lumbered into the room. “I thought I’d find you here.”
“I was just checking on—wait a second,” Nicole said, frowning at him as the implications of that sank in. “Are you saying I’m always eating?”
“No, of course not,” the Ghorf said with a mix of earnestness and shyness. “Besides, Jeff said you’re our leader, and a leader has to keep up her strength.”
“Yeah, and I’ve got the pink slip on Independence Hall,” Nicole growled.
Kahkitah gave a confused whistle. “What’s a pink slip, and why is a building wearing one?”
Levi snorted. “Jeopardy! really missed its chance with him, didn’t it?”
Kahkitah’s next whistle sounded plaintive. “I don’t understand,” he said. “I wish you wouldn’t say things I can’t understand.”
“It’s all right, Kahkitah,” Nicole soothed. “Just ignore him. Did you finish that job I asked you to do?”
“Oh, yes,” Kahkitah said, brightening again. “That was what I came to tell you.”
“Great,” Nicole said, looking back at Levi and Carp. “You two all right here?”
“We’re fine,” Carp said. “Go ahead.”
“And, Kahkitah?” Levi added. “Sorry. We were only kidding.”
“Oh,” Kahkitah said cheerfully. “That’s all right, then. I like it when people kid each other. It’s good to be happy.”
“Yes, it is,” Nicole said, gesturing him back toward the door. “Show me.”
They left the room. “I’m really looking forward to seeing their faces when you’re finally able to drop the act,” Nicole murmured as they walked.
“As am I,” Kahkitah said ruefully. “But I’m afraid that will be some time yet.”
“It may happen sooner than you think,” Nicole said. “What does the magic Ghorf network tell you?”
“That you were right,” Kahkitah said. “All the Sibyls have disappeared. Not just the ones with the blue and green work teams, but every Sibyl from every crew aboard the Fyrantha.”
“You’re sure? All of them?”
“Certainly from all the groups with one of my people on the crew. There are a few groups that don’t, but the local Ghorfs say there are strong suggestions that their Sibyls are gone as well.” He cocked his head toward her. “Do you know what it means?”
“Not yet,” Nicole said. “But at least it answers the question of why the Koffren want me back so badly. If all the other Sibyls are gone, I’m the only one who can fix the teleport for them.”
“Assuming they want to bring in more of their kind,” Kahkitah said. “Which of course makes sense if they’re trying to take command of the Fyrantha.”
“Yeah, we’re not going to let that happen,” Nicole said firmly. “Cambria tells me the Oracle wants to talk to me, and it sounds like the Oracle is the section of the Fyrantha’s mind that the Shipmasters have most under their control. Maybe Nevvis is trying to open communication.”
“The last time one of the Shipmasters suggested a communication it was to betray you.”
“Yeah, but things have changed a lot since then,” Nicole reminded him. “The Koffren have basically made them working prisoners, I’ve proven to be a harder nut than anyone expected, and I’ve started collecting Wisps under my personal control.”
“Five Wisps hardly constitutes an army.”
Nicole shrugged. “Okay, so right now it’s not much more than a commando team. But I know how to make more.”
“Pour a mixture of Q2 and Q3 Wisps into Q4, allow them to marinate for a while, then spoon onto the Protector and serve.”
Nicole had to smile at that one. “You remind me of my grandmother trying to teach me how to cook.”
“Really, Nicole,” he admonished her, his neck gills flapping with suppressed chuckling. “Did you think Ghorfs didn’t cook?”
“No, of course not,” Nicole assured him with a straight face. “Actually, I was planning to put you in charge of the big victory feast when this is all over. So did anyone have any idea where the Sibyls might have gone?”
“There was one thought,” Kahkitah said hesitantly. “But it seemed to make so little sense that I hesitate to mention it. One of the Q2 Ghorfs said his team had been brought in to convert the Q1 arena dispensers to distribute human food.”
“Why is that so outrageous?” Nicole said. “If the Shipmasters are trying to hide them from the Koffren, it’s a perfect place.”
“From the Koffren, yes,” Kahkitah said. “But hardly from us. We’ve already shown our ability to get in and out of the arena whenever we want.”
“Maybe that’s the point,” Nicole said thoughtfully. “The Shipmasters know you got me out through the ocean half of the arena and the Fyrantha’s water system. Maybe Nevvis is counting on us to sneak the Sibyls out of there before the Koffren figure out where they are.”
“To what end?”
“To hide them someplace where we’re in control,” Nicole said. “The Shipmasters don’t dare traipse over here to Q4 to stash the Sibyls, so they do the next best thing and put them someplace where we can grab them. If we do that, even if the Koffren find out they’ve been stashed in the arena it won’t do them any good. They can beat at the doors all they want and still not get anywhere near the Sibyls.”
Kahkitah pondered that for a few steps. “You realize your analysis presumes that the Shipmasters are now acting as our allies,” he said. “I was unaware they’d made any such offers to you.”
“They haven’t,” Nicole conceded. “On the other hand, maybe this is their way of doing that. This, plus their request to talk to me via the Oracle.”
“Or perhaps it’s another trap.”
“I don’t think so,” Nicole said. “Remember what I said about being a hard nut to crack? Well, that raises my value as both an enemy and an ally.”
“One would think the Koffren would come to that same conclusion.”
“I’m sure they have,” Nicole said, grimacing with memory. “Only they know there’s not a chance in hell I’ll come to their side. Not after Bennett’s murder right in front of me.”
“Yet the Shipmasters have also killed many Sibyls.”
“It’s different,” Nicole said. “I mean, maybe it’s not. But it is. I’m sure they didn’t set out to deliberately poison us with the chemical in our inhalers—they needed the Fyrantha fixed, and that was the only way they had to do that.”
“They’ve sent many from other races to their deaths in alien wars,” Kahkitah continued doggedly. “They’ve also kidnapped everyone aboard the ship to serve as their slaves.”
“What are you trying to do, Kahkitah?” Nicole asked, glaring at him. “We may have a chance here to pick up some allies. Are you saying we should just ignore that?”
“There’s a human saying we’ve heard during our years aboard the Fyrantha,” Kahkitah said. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that one,” Nicole said. “What’s your point?”
“My point is it’s untrue,” Kahkitah said. “The enemy of my enemy is merely the enemy of my enemy. The bits of Earth history we’ve been able to glean show that with distressing regularity.”
“So you’re saying what?” Nicole asked. “That we go it alone and fight both the Koffren and the Shipmasters?”
“I don’t believe the Shipmasters are truly fighters,” Kahkitah said. “But yes, I believe the price for their assistance and their weapons would be higher than you would wish to pay.” His birdsong trill went dark and bitter. “It is certainly higher than the Ghorfs wish to pay.”
“Okay,” Nicole said. “Noted. So. Bottom line. If I enlist the Shipmasters to my side, does that mean the Ghorfs will abandon us?”
“Of course not,” Kahkitah said firmly. “You’re the Fyrantha’s Protector, and you’re also our friend. No matter what else you do or don’t do, whatever you need from us we’ll do. I just wanted to make our thoughts known.”
“I appreciate that,” Nicole said.
She meant it, too. The Ghorfs had been good allies, and their secret communication system was a resource that could make a crucial difference in any future action against the Koffren. The last thing she wanted to do was drive them away. But she might not have a choice.
Because without the Shipmasters and their greenfire weapons, they didn’t have a chance. Not against the Koffren. Especially not if the Koffren had gotten more greenfire weapons of their own.
Not a chance. Not a chance in hell.
Surreptitiously, she looked at Kahkitah as he walked stolidly beside her. The Ghorfs were warriors, or at least had trained themselves to be warriors. They would surely understand.
But did Nicole herself understand?
Kahkitah had a good point. The Shipmasters had caused all sorts of misery and death and destruction. Could she really in good conscience cooperate with them?
Even more importantly, would the Fyrantha understand? Would it approve?
She frowned suddenly. No. It didn’t matter if the Fyrantha didn’t approve. It didn’t really even matter if the Ghorfs approved.
She was the Fyrantha’s Protector. All that mattered was whether she approved.
And she didn’t. Suddenly, she realized that down deep she didn’t.
“All right, then,” she said. “We’ll do it ourselves.”
Kahkitah turned his head, his bird whistle taking on a surprised tone. “You really don’t need to decide so quickly, Nicole,” he said.
“Too bad, because I have,” Nicole said.
“You have a plan?”
“Maybe,” she said. “First, I need to grab Jeff and Iosif and go see what the Shipmasters want to talk about.”
“Shall I come along?”
“No, I think the three of us and my Wisps can handle it,” she said. “Besides, I want you to talk to the other Ghorfs. I need to see if a crazy idea I’ve just come up with is even possible.”
“It will be,” Kahkitah promised. “For the Protector, we’ll make it possible.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Nicole warned. “Okay. Here’s what I’m thinking…”
Ushkai was waiting when Nicole, Jeff, Iosif, and their three-Wisp escort arrived in the animal treatment room.
But this time he wasn’t alone. A tall, heavyset creature stood beside him, towering over him by probably eight inches, with long, braided hair and a face that reminded Nicole of a koala she’d seen once on TV. Its arms were ape-long, and its legs were like horse’s legs, complete with hooves and horseshoes that flickered with colored lights. It wore a triangle-shaped piece of dark red cloth that started at its shoulders and angled down to a spot between the knees, with an edge that flickered like the horseshoes. “I am the Oracle,” it announced as they came closer.
Or rather, she announced. The voice coming from that v-shaped mouth was high and female and surprisingly gentle.
“I am Nicole,” Nicole called back. “The Protector. Do you speak for the Shipmasters, Oracle?”
“Welcome, Protector,” the creature said. “You may address me as R’taas, just as you may address the Caretaker as Ushkai. I speak for the Shipmasters when it serves the purposes of the Fyrantha. But I prefer to speak to the sisterhood of the Sibyls.”
“You’re the one telling them how to fix the ship?” Jeff asked.
“I am,” R’taas said.
“And killing them?” Jeff added pointedly.
The big alien seemed to slump. “That was never our intent. We did not so design this vessel. But circumstances were changed, and the ship altered—”
“Wait a second,” Nicole cut in. “You designed the Fyrantha?”
“We designed Leviathan,” R’taas corrected. “We designed it, and in conjunction with the humans of Earth we flew it to the stars.”
“Yeah, about that,” Jeff said. “Why humans? Why us? We must have been pretty damn primitive when you found us.”
“Primitiveness is a state of knowledge,” Ushkai spoke up. “Knowledge may be added and instilled and nurtured.”
“Not so spirit and inward talent,” R’taas said. “You had both. You still do.”
“This is all really fascinating,” Iosif put in. “But we have a war to fight. You got something useful to say, or did you just call us up here to say hi and shoot the breeze?”
“The Core,” Ushkai said solemnly.
“The Core,” R’taas agreed.
“I hope that’s not what they consider useful,” Iosif muttered.
“Yes, tell us about the Core,” Nicole said. If this was the part of the Fyrantha that spoke to the Sibyls, then this could be about fixing something important. “Where is it, and what do we need to do about it?”
“It centers the four quadrants,” R’taas said. “It nests at the crossness of the heat ducts.”
“Very poetic,” Iosif said sarcastically. “You—Caretaker—you want to put it in plain English?”
“I don’t speak English,” Ushkai said. “But the Oracle is correct. The Core rests at the intersection of the four quadrants on level 51.”
“How big is it?” Jeff asked.
“Each section fills a space four pess by two pess,” R’taas said.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jeff muttered. “English, Caretaker?”
“Approximately the size of two of the animal treatment cages behind you,” Ushkai said. “They’re densely packed, but there are narrow access corridors through the lines of consoles.”
“The Core needs to be repaired,” R’taas said. “Until then, I—we—I—will be fragmented.”
“If it’s that important, why isn’t it already fixed?” Iosif demanded. “It’s not like we haven’t been aboard for the last jillion years.”
“It has been fixed, hasn’t it?” Nicole asked as she suddenly understood. “All except the part in Q1.” She turned to Jeff and Iosif. “Don’t you see? The Shipmasters have kept everyone out of that quadrant, probably ever since they started kidnapping people.”
“Paranoid that we’ll rise up against them,” Jeff said, nodding.
“Pretty good assumption, if you ask me,” Iosif said. “So how do we get into the Q1 part?”
“There’s a horizontal air duct between level 51 and level 52,” Ushkai said. “Perhaps you can move through it to the entrance, then move in quickly before the guards can block you.”
“Guards?” Nicole asked. “You mean Q1 Wisps?”
“Yes.”
Jeff looked at Nicole. “Well, you were talking earlier about having your Wisps convert a bunch of their fellows. Sounds like this would be a good time to give that a try.”
“That’ll take too long,” Nicole said. “No, I’ve got a better idea.” She turned back to R’taas. “Are you in contact with the Shipmasters?”
“I am.”
“Send them this message,” Nicole ordered. “This is the Protector. I have a way to free you from Koffren domination. But to do so, you need to release all the Wisps to my control. And I mean all of them, including the ones in Q1.”
“What if they refuse?” R’taas asked.
“Then I’ll just have to take over the ship without them,” Nicole said, trying to project a confidence she absolutely didn’t feel. Her plan was only half-formed, and relied completely on whether or not the Ghorfs could pull off the engineering feat she’d set for them. “Of course, if I don’t get their help now, they won’t get my help after it’s all over. Fair is fair.”
For a moment R’taas and Ushkai stood silently. Neither looked at the other, but Nicole had the eerie feeling that they were communicating. “The message is sent,” R’taas said at last. “How do they acknowledge?”
“When the Q1 Wisps come under my control, I’ll know it,” Nicole said.
“You will?” Jeff asked, frowning.
“I think so,” Nicole said. “If not, giving one of them an order should do it.”
“Which requires you to be in Q1 at the time.”
“He’s got a point,” Iosif said. “My question is, how are the Shipmasters going to hand them over with the Koffren sitting on top of them?”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Nicole told him. “The Koffren may be watching them, but I doubt they really understand everything that’s going on. Should be easy enough to slip in a quiet order in the right place. Anyway, that’s their problem. If they want my help kicking the Koffren out of their lives, they’ll figure it out.” She turned back to the two holograms. “Next question: How many Koffren are aboard?”
Another silent consultation. “Thirty-eight,” Ushkai said.
Jeff swore under his breath. “Thirty-eight? Trake said there were only twenty.”
“Yeah, well, he would, wouldn’t he?” Nicole said grimly. Still trying to build favor with the Koffren or at least prove himself useful, Trake would certainly downplay their numbers. “Are you sure about that?”
“I’m sure,” Ushkai said.
“I’m sure,” R’taas repeated.
Jeff looked at Nicole. “So. Do you still have a plan?”
“Don’t be snide,” Nicole reproved him. “Yes, I still have a plan. Okay, just one more question. How can I get a message to the Koffren?”
“We could send a Wisp with a note,” Iosif suggested.
“You think these work with reading material?” Jeff asked pointedly, touching the side of his head where the hair covered his implanted translator.
Iosif reddened. “Right. Damn. I’m so used to this crazy setup I sometimes forget. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Nicole said. “What about the recorder that—what’s his name? Ezana—that Ezana built? I know the one you used to fake your voices with the drone diversion got smashed, but does he have another one we could use?”
“No, that was it,” Iosif said. “And it took him two years to figure out how to make that one.”
“Only one answer, then,” Jeff said. “Oracle, where’s the nearest Koffren?”
“Scrinthu section, level 51,” R’taas said.
“Don’t think I know scrinthu,” Jeff said, looking at Nicole. “Which one is that?”
“It’s the farthest aft part of Q1,” Nicole said, wincing a little. “Right in front of the crosswise heat-exchange duct.”
“Ah,” Jeff said, nodding as he got it, too. “And level 51. In other words, he’s helping the Wisps guard the Q1 section of the Core.”
“Sounds like it,” Nicole said. “Oracle, where’s the next nearest Koffren?”
“No, no, this is fine,” Jeff assured her. “Might as well walk into a stronghold section where they feel all safe and confident. Less likely to spook someone into thinking I’m the lead unit of an attack.”
“Is that how they teach you to do things in the Marines?” Iosif asked.
“Mostly they taught us to improvise,” Jeff said. “Nicole, if you can lend me one of your Wisps for transport, I’ll head on over. What’s the message?”
“Hold it,” Iosif objected. “I’m not done yet. Who says you’re the one going?”
“Who says I’m not?” Jeff countered. “Face it—it has to be one of Nicole’s closest allies for the Koffren to take him seriously.”
“Who says I’m not a close ally?” Iosif shot back. “And who says that they won’t see that close ally as a potential hostage?”
“Better they take me hostage than they figure it’s someone Nicole doesn’t care about and flat-out kill him.”
“Enough,” Nicole cut in harshly. The minute she’d seen where this was going she’d known Jeff would volunteer and suspected Iosif would do likewise.
Unfortunately, just because Jeff was the best choice didn’t make the decision any easier.
“Jeff’s right, Iosif,” she said. “Okay, here’s the message. Tell them I’ll fix the teleport for them if they’ll all come to the Q1 arena and let me talk to them.”
“The Q1 arena?” Jeff asked carefully.
“The Q1 arena,” Nicole confirmed.
Jeff looked sideways at Iosif. “You realize that the Sibyls—”
“Yes, that they’re all stashed away in there,” Nicole said. “But it’s the only arena that has the landscaping I need.”
“Okay,” Jeff said, his tone only slightly less concerned. “If you’re sure. I only ask because your memory hasn’t always been the best lately.”
Nicole’s first impulse was to deny it. Her second was to wonder if maybe he was right.
The inhalers the Sibyls used to hear the Fyrantha’s telepathic work instructions contained a slow poison that ate away at the user’s life span. Who was to say it didn’t also have other, equally horrendous effects? Effects on health, perception, reflexes?
Memory?
“My memory’s doing just fine, thank you,” she said tartly. “Tell them I want all of them there because I have a proposition to pitch and I want to make sure it gets to whoever’s in charge. I mean, really in charge.”
“Play them off against each other,” Jeff said, nodding. “Got it. Anything else?”
“They need to bring the Shipmasters with them,” Nicole said. “Again, all of them. What I have to say is about everyone, and they all need to hear it.”
“That’s going to be quite a crowd,” Iosif warned. “You sure you don’t want to do something more of the hit-and-run attrition variety?”
“Nope,” Nicole said. “Time’s getting short. We might as well have it out all at once.” She looked at Jeff. “Can you remember that long enough to spit it out to the Koffren?”
“I think so,” Jeff said, still eyeing her closely. “When do you want this grand assemblage to take place?”
“Let’s make it this time tomorrow,” she said. If the Ghorfs could pull off her plan at all, that should give them enough time. “The Shipmasters can get them in. Tell them I’ll meet them where the river meets the ocean.”
“Tomorrow; Q1 arena; oceanside; everybody,” Jeff said. “Got it.”
“Good.” Nicole half turned and beckoned. “Jessup, Lehigh: you’re going with Jeff. Remember you’re to obey his orders the same as you’d obey mine.”
The two Wisps glided forward. She touched an arm on each one as they came to a halt, repeating the order telepathically and confirming their acceptance of Jeff as their master. “Go quickly,” she said, trying to hide her misgivings.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Jeff said. Giving her a reassuring smile, he headed back toward the door they’d entered by, the two Wisps gliding along at his sides.
Nicole watched him go, a hollow feeling in her stomach. Up to now she’d been pretty good about guessing what the Fyrantha and the various groups aboard it were thinking and planning. But that depth of insight wasn’t exactly guaranteed.
And with Jeff heading off for a confrontation with the Koffren this would be the worst possible time for her instincts and hunches to fall on their faces.
“I could go with him,” Iosif offered quietly as they watched him go. “Better yet, I could grab a couple of my guys and some spider guns and ease in behind him. Take up backup position in case the Koffren decide to be cute.”
For a long moment Nicole was tempted. She and Jeff had been together a long time, they’d gone through hell together, and she’d become a lot closer to him than she’d probably been to anyone in her life. She desperately wanted him to be safe.
More than that, she needed him to be safe. There were more battles yet to fight, more decisions to make, more conversations and confrontations to prepare for. She needed his insights and his steadying presence through all that.
She needed him.
That was a new thought. A scary thought. She’d never needed anyone before. Not since she was ten. Not like this. She’d pretended to need Trake or Bungie or some of the others through her years with the gang. But that had all been an act, a calculated play to their egos or desires or whatever she needed to do to survive.
She’d seldom been in control of her life or the people or events around her. But she’d always been in control of her feelings, deadening them as needed to get through whatever crisis dropped onto her. Now, unbidden and unwanted, emotions and feelings she’d thought were in check were suddenly bursting out of their crypt.
And that was terrifying. Needing people was the fastest way to become vulnerable to anyone who wanted to hurt you.
Iosif was still waiting for an answer. “No,” she said. “Thanks, but no. They need something from me, and killing Jeff is the surest way for them to never ever get it.”
“They could still take him hostage,” Iosif warned darkly. “Like we said earlier. And they could hurt him. As long as he’s alive, they’ve still got leverage on you.”
“They might take him,” Nicole conceded. “But I don’t think they’ll risk hurting him. Not yet.”
“And if they take him?” Iosif persisted.
Nicole gazed at the door Jeff had disappeared to. “Actually, I almost hope they do,” she said. “Come on, let’s get back to the hive. I need to talk to Kahkitah.”