There were a couple of back doors into each of the arenas, entrances that bypassed the main hatches and took the visitor into the side away from the living areas. But getting to one of them would require extra time and, worse, take them dangerously close to the observation balcony where the Shipmasters could watch the fighting. The main hatch they were now standing beside would be faster and easier.
Unfortunately, it would cost Nicole another puff on her inhaler to get the access code. But it was becoming painfully clear that she wasn’t likely to die of old age, anyway.
In fact, odds were that she wasn’t even going to last long enough for the inhaler to kill her.
“Caretaker, I need to get into the Q3 arena,” she called out into the empty corridor. “Have the Fyrantha ready to give me the code when I use the inhaler. Please.”
She gave it a few seconds, then put the inhaler into her mouth and sent a blast into her lungs.
Enter the arena with the code seven nine two zero nine four seven.
“Got it,” she said, putting the inhaler away. She stepped to the door and punched the code into the keypad.
The lock snicked open. Wesowee was ready, his big hands already gripping the handle, and as Nicole stepped back out of the way he swung the door open. Taking a deep breath, motioning to the Ponngs to stay close, she headed inside.
The door on this side of the arena opened up near one of the two hives. Nicole’s first fear was that the Shipmaster and stick hornets would be right in front of her, maybe standing around talking about what had just happened in the corridor. To her relief, none of them were anywhere in sight. With the others beside her, she headed in.
She looked closely at the hive entrance as they headed for the tall grass that filled most of the arena, wondering if the Shipmaster might be lurking in there. But again, no one was visible.
She’d taken three more steps and was starting to breathe easier when the grass ahead parted and a pair of wolves stalked out and headed toward them.
Nicole jerked to a halt, her heart seizing up. What the hell—?
She was still staring when the wolves lurched up onto their hind paws and continued toward them on two feet, their forelegs now hanging very much like normal human arms at their sides.
“Those are new,” Wesowee murmured from beside her.
“Or really old,” Nicole murmured back. Now that the creatures were walking upright, she could see that they looked more like really hairy men than wolves. Hairy, hunched-over men with long snouts, rounded shoulders, and short-fingered hands. “We used to have stories about things called werewolves.”
The two wolfmen stopped, and one said something that had a lot of pops and crackles in it. “Who are you?” the translation came through. “What are you doing with our flyer?”
“What, this?” Nicole asked, hefting the drone a couple of inches. “First off, it was one of the other guys’ flyers, not yours. Second, it’s not really a flyer anymore. I mean, it doesn’t fly.”
“The flight doesn’t matter,” the other wolfman said. “It’s still food for our bellies. You will hand it over.”
They started forward.
“Explain,” Moile said, stepping in front of Nicole and lifting his sword to point at the wolfmen.
They ignored him and kept coming.
Beside Nicole, Wesowee gave a rumbling birdsong warning. “No—stay back,” Nicole ordered him quietly. The Shipmasters would be monitoring the arena action, and she didn’t want them spotting an aggressive or even a protective Ghorf. “Let’s see how the Ponngs handle it.”
The wolfmen were still coming.
“He asked you to explain,” Teika said, stepping to Moile’s side and also raising his sword.
“It’s a simple question,” Nicole added. “A simple answer, and you can have the flyer.”
“We will have it regardless,” the first wolfman said.
“When we’ve had our answer,” Nicole said firmly. “Really, are you that eager to lose some blood? Especially when it’s going to drain out onto all that fur? It must look really gross when it mats up.”
The wolfmen stopped. “Are you trying to be funny?” the first demanded.
“What does appearance matter when one is starving?” the second added.
“Not much,” Nicole agreed. “And I wasn’t trying to be funny. I was trying to get an answer. How are these flyers connected with your food?”
The first wolfman gave a brief scrunch of his snout. “We’ve been ordered to fight the Skinless. We have been—”
“The Skinless?” Nicole interrupted. “You mean those stick hornet things?”
“Stick hornet?” the wolfman echoed, scrunching his snout again.
“The ones we got the flyer from,” Nicole said. “That’s what we call them.”
“Stick hornet,” the wolfman said again as if trying out the term. “No. The Skinless.”
“Whatever,” Nicole said. “So how do you fight?”
“We are twenty,” the wolfman said. “The Skinless, too, are twenty. Each group has fifteen flyers.”
“Fifteen of us operate the flyers,” the second wolfman said. “We search the grasslands for the Skinless operators. When we find one, we use the flyer’s flail-tips to briefly paralyze him.”
“So the spinning weed-whacker edges are drugged?”
“I don’t know what a weed-whacker is,” the first wolfman said. “But yes, the edges contain a suppression poison.”
Nicole shivered. So that was why the Shipmasters had recruited the stick hornets and their drones. A single touch, and the Shipmaster could have just strolled over and picked her up.
“Those of us who aren’t operating flyers then go to him and take his controller,” the first wolfman said. “We use it to bring his flyer to us, then bring it to our hive. For each drone we have at the end of the combat period, we receive one ration of food.”
Nicole nodded. So each side needed to keep all its own drones intact plus capture five of the other side’s, or someone was going to go hungry. That sounded like a Shipmaster scheme, all right. “Don’t they try to protect their operators?”
“There are fifteen operators and only five to guard them,” the wolfman reminded her.
“And those same five also have to retrieve the enemy operators’ controllers,” Teika added. “Too many tasks for them to accomplish them all.”
“I suppose.” Nicole shifted her drone to a two-handed grip and held it up in front of the wolfmen. “So how much of the drone do you need to get food? And do you also need the controller?”
“That much will be sufficient,” the first wolfman said. “The Masters understand that damage can happen.”
“And the controller?”
“Unnecessary and unneeded. In the morning fifteen flyers and fifteen controllers will await us.”
“Great,” Nicole said. “Here’s the deal. You can have this one—if”—she lifted a finger—“if you help us steal an intact one and its controller.”
“Why would we help you do that?” the second wolfman countered. “We would be helping you steal food from our companions’ bellies.”
“You wouldn’t be any worse off than you are now,” Moile said.
“How would you steal it?” the first wolfman asked.
“These are Moile and Teika,” Nicole said, gesturing to the Ponngs. “I’m the Sibyl, by the way. And you two are…?”
“Our names are unimportant,” the second wolfman said.
“And you two are…?” Nicole repeated pointedly.
“Our names are—”
“I am Worwol,” the first wolfman said. “He is Rywoo.”
“Thank you,” Nicole said. “As to Moile and Teika, their people once fought in this same arena. They may know things about it that you don’t.”
“Such as?” Rywoo asked, not sounding particularly impressed.
“Moile?” Nicole invited.
“Have you investigated the various types of grasses in the arena?” Moile asked.
Rywoo made a sound that sounded a lot like a dog sneeze. “Grass is grass,” he said contemptuously. “Only the bushes matter.”
“The bushes?” Nicole asked, frowning.
“The bushes are the favored hiding places for Skinless flyer operators,” Worwol told her. “They lie beneath them so that our own flyers cannot see them from above.”
“And I suppose you use the bushes on your side the same way?” Nicole asked.
“We do,” Worwol said. “Our strategy is to—”
“Are you mad?” Rywoo cut him off, slashing a hand past the other wolfman’s snout. “How do we know they’re not spies for the Skinless?”
“Let me guess,” Nicole said. “Your strategy is to sneak around their side trying to find them.”
“Or else hoping your appearance will drive them from hiding,” Teika said. “We can help.”
“How?” Worwol asked.
“Some of the grasses don’t wave very much when passage is made through them,” Teika said.
“Particularly when passage is made near the roots,” Moile added. “The grasses flare out from a central core, rather like our own species of—”
“Stick to the point, Moile,” Nicole murmured.
“My apologies, Protector,” Moile said, ducking his head. “The point is that the operator won’t hear us coming, and there won’t be any disturbance in the tops of the grasses to warn him or the other flyer operators.”
“How do we do this?” Worwol asked.
“You don’t,” Teika said firmly. “You’re too large. We’re the only ones who can do it.”
Rywoo gave another dog sneeze. “And once you find him, you’ll defeat him?”
“There are two of us,” Moile said, a little stiffly.
“Who together barely make up a single Skinless,” Rywoo shot back. “What if the operator has a guard? Will you defeat both?”
“Who says they have to defeat anyone?” Nicole asked.
“Weren’t you paying attention?” Rywoo gritted out. “We need the flyer to earn food.”
“Yes, I got that,” Nicole said. “Why can’t they just grab the controller and run?”
“Because—” Rywoo broke off. For a long moment he and Worwol looked at each other. “Because they would be caught,” Rywoo continued at last a little hesitantly. “Wouldn’t they?”
“Moile?” Nicole again prompted.
“We would split up,” the Ponng said. “The Skinless would have no idea which of us had the controller.”
“Furthermore, once we were out of the immediate area we would again go to the ground and travel unseen through the grasses,” Teika added.
“What of the river dividing our territories?” Rywoo asked.
Nicole cocked an eyebrow. So the Shipmasters had left the river the way it was after she’d flooded the once-empty channel? Interesting. She’d expected them to drain it again, out of spite if nothing else.
“One of us will swim it while the other remains in hiding,” Moile said. “If there’s no reaction or attack from the Skinless, the one will reach the shore and the other will throw the controller to him. After that, retrieving the flyer will be easy.”
“Why not reach the river and throw it across to one of us?” Worwol suggested.
“And meanwhile, you can let us have that,” Rywoo added, holding out a hand and wiggling his fingers at the broken drone as he took half a step forward.
Nicole felt her forehead crease. There’d been something odd in the wolfman’s voice just then. Actually, there’s been something odd in both their voices.
“Yeah, let’s hold on a second,” she said quickly, taking a step backward. Rywoo started to take another step, stopped as the Ponngs twitched their swords warningly.
“Why do we wait?” Worwol growled. “You take food from our bellies.”
“I said hold on,” Nicole said. Was this just paranoia? The uneasiness of someone who’d too often seen the chaos and betrayal that tended to follow a deal where either the sellers or the buyers seemed too easily convinced?
Or was this the Fyrantha, doing its brain nudging thing again?
She looked around, trying to see the scene with fresh eyes. Standing near their hive and the exit door, discussing how to get the wolfmen more food. Nowhere near the quiet war going on elsewhere in the arena. Worwol and Rywoo didn’t seem to be drone operators, which meant they must be two of the five guards and hunters. So why were they here instead of guarding or hunting?
Were they working with the Shipmasters? Had they been warned Nicole was coming and ordered to retrieve the broken drone the Ponngs had snatched? But then where were the Shipmasters, and why hadn’t they already attacked?
And then, she saw it, and all the troublesome pieces fell together. “So what are the Masters offering you to grab your people’s flyers and hand them over to the Skinless?” she asked.
“What?” Moile asked, half turning to frown at her.
And in that instant of inattention, the wolfmen struck.
Worwol hurled himself at Moile, paws outstretched toward the Ponng’s throat. At the same time, Rywoo threw his own long arms up over his own head, probably in hopes of drawing Teika’s sword up out of guard position and allowing for a strike at his torso.
But they hadn’t reckoned with Nicole.
Rywoo had finished his diversion and was starting to drop his arms for a jab at Teika’s head when Nicole hurled the damaged drone with all her strength into his stomach. The impact jerked him to a halt, half folding him over. Worwol’s paws were past Moile’s sword and nearly to his throat when Teika’s sword point jabbed hard into his side.
The wolfman’s arms jerked away from Moile and grabbed at his wounded side. He turned snarling jaws toward Teika, just in time to catch the flat of Moile’s sword across his face. Even as the two wolfmen staggered away from the attack, the two Ponngs leaped to counterattack, pressing their sword tips against the wolfmen’s throats and forcing them to hastily back up.
“How did you know?” Moile asked, his voice cold.
“They were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Nicole said, suddenly weary of all this. “They’d been tipped off that we were coming. But the Shipmasters aren’t here, so they didn’t get here ahead of us, so they must have had some other way of communicating with them.”
“That’s not true,” Worwol insisted. “We were merely returning to our hive and happened to find you here.”
“Really?” Nicole asked, raising her eyebrows. “Why?”
“Ah…” Worwol looked at Rywoo as if for help.
“It’s not that hard,” Nicole said. “Either you came here because the Shipmasters ordered you to, or else you were bringing in a trophy to add to your flyer collection. Which was it?”
Again, Worwol and Rywoo looked at each other.
“We have a flyer,” Rywoo said.
“We left it in the grass when we heard you,” Worwol added.
“Why?” Nicole asked. “No, don’t bother. You left it behind because you weren’t delivering it to the hive. You were delivering it to the Shipmasters, probably putting it in the corridor outside the door.”
“Why would they do that?” Moile asked.
“Because they’re traitors,” Nicole said bluntly. “They’re sneaking up on their own operators, stunning them, and stealing their flyers.”
Worwol twitched back as Moile pressed his sword tip a little harder into the wolfman’s throat. “Is this true?” the Ponng asked.
“It’s a lie,” Worwol protested. “The human is trying to sow distrust and bitterness among us.” He twitched again, harder this time, as Moile again pressed his sword tip into the wolfman’s throat.
“Really,” Moile said coldly. “And how did you know her kind is called human?”
Nicole had barely met this species, and had no idea of their range of expressions. Just the same, she was pretty sure the hooded eyes and clenched teeth indicated chagrin at his slip.
Not that it mattered. Nicole already had all the proof she needed.
“It’s all right, Moile,” she said. “It’s their own people they’re betraying, not us. Anyway, I should have seen this coming. The Shipmasters have already played around with different species fighting each other. Sooner or later they would want to see if they could talk or bribe someone into turning on their own side.”
She gestured to the wolfmen. “So what did they promise? That you’d each get a ration for every flyer you delivered to the Skinless?”
For a moment neither wolfman answered. Then, Worwol’s jaws separated a couple of centimeters. “Two rations,” he said. “Two rations each, and safety from our people if they learned of the deal.”
“Traitors,” Teika muttered.
“Realists,” Worwol countered. “Why should one starve because one’s leaders are fools?”
“Maybe you should have been the leader,” Nicole said.
“I should have,” Worwol agreed. “I would have. But Owrogor insisted.” He bared his teeth again. “Let them starve.”
“They certainly made it easy for you,” Nicole said. “Once your drones were all over the Skinless side of the arena there was no way for any of your side to see what you were doing. The Shipmasters probably gave you some of the flyer drug, and you just took it to the nearest operator, stunned him, and took his controller and the flyer.”
“Easy, and profitable,” Moile murmured.
“Unless they got caught,” Nicole agreed. “But with everyone working more or less on their own, and with all the grass to hide in, there wasn’t much chance of that unless they got sloppy.” She smiled tightly. “Or unless they switched to a smarter leader.”
Worwol bared his teeth again, but remained silent.
“What do we do with them?” Moile asked.
“I’d love to turn them over to their own people,” Nicole said. “But we really don’t have the time. So we say good-bye, and send them on their way.” She raised her eyebrows questioningly. “Or you stab them and let them bleed out. Their choice.”
“Point taken,” Worwol said with a touch of humor as he gingerly touched his injured side.
“May we have the flyer?” Rywoo asked, pointing to the one Nicole had thrown at him.
Nicole stared at him. “You’re kidding, right? No, you may not have it. And you can’t keep the one you were bringing the Shipmasters, either. Just go, both of you. If we see you again, we will kill you.”
“You may try,” Worwol said. “You may not succeed.”
“Oh, we will,” Nicole said. “Trust me. Now go.”
Without another word, the wolfmen backed up. They paused at the edge of the field, then turned and disappeared into the grass.
“Moile, Teika—go find that drone,” Nicole ordered. “And watch yourselves—they might try to argue the point.”
“They won’t succeed,” Moile promised grimly. “Come, Teika.”
They, too, disappeared into the grass.
“Interesting,” Wesowee said quietly, coming up from behind Nicole. “How did you know?”
“The river,” Nicole said, walking over to the broken drone she’d thrown at Rywoo and picking it up. “Like I said, the only two reasons for them to be here at this time of day was an order by the Shipmasters or a drone delivery. Either way, their own actions convicted them.”
“But if they had a stick hornet drone—ah.” Wesowee nodded. “One or both of them would be wet from swimming across the river.”
“Exactly,” Nicole said. “That, and the fact they were trying to hide the drone they’d brought, made it suspicious. I just had to put the pieces together.”
There was a rustling in the grass, and the Ponngs emerged, Moile carrying both swords, Teika carrying an intact flyer with a phone-sized tablet balanced on top of it.
“We found it, Protector,” Teika said. “Exactly as you said.”
“You can see the markings are different than those on that one,” Moile said.
“For the different sides,” Nicole said, peering at the drone in her hands. The damage had partially obliterated the markings, but even so she could clearly see what Moile was talking about. “Another good reason for them to hide it until they figured out who we were and whose side we were on.”
“Whose side are we on?” Wesowee asked, smoothly switching back to his big dumb Ghorf mode.
“Ours,” Nicole said. “The Fyrantha’s.”
“Ah,” Wesowee said. “So they betrayed their own people? That doesn’t sound like something true soldiers would do.”
“It’s not,” Moile said grimly. “But it’s something the Shipmasters would be more than willing to exploit.”
Wesowee pondered. “Then the Shipmasters are not true soldiers, either,” he concluded.
“No, they’re not,” Nicole agreed.
“What now, Protector?” Teika asked. “We have the drone you wanted. What do we do next?”
Nicole peered up at the sky. Like a real sky, on a real planet, with a sun, clouds, and everything. Also up there was the Shipmasters’ observation balcony.
Had the Shipmasters watched the little drama that had just played out down here? If so, they might already be on their way, possibly with their tame Koffren in tow.
But if for some reason they hadn’t seen it …
“We have one drone, yes,” she said. “But as long as we’re here—and as long as you and Moile have figured out a system—we might as well go ahead and get another one.”
“Are you certain?” Wesowee asked, sounding more confused than his dumb Ghorf role probably needed. “It would put even more pressure on everyone’s food supplies.”
“I know, and I don’t like that part,” Nicole admitted. “But there may be something else we can do about that. Anyway, I think it’s worth trying. If you’re willing, that is.”
“We follow the Protector,” Moile said firmly. “You may wait in the corridor if you wish.”
Wesowee squared his lumpy shoulders. “I will also follow the Protector,” he said. “Do we stay here while the Ponngs search out a controller?”
“We’ve already got the wolfman version,” Nicole said, hoping fervently she knew what she was doing. “I was thinking we’d head out the door, circle around to the stick hornet side, and grab one of theirs.”
“As you wish,” Wesowee said. “Lead us, Protector. We will follow.”