Chapter 30

"You're actually going out in public like that?" Daulo asked.

Standing before the apartment's largest mirror, Jin took one last look at herself in her gray night-fighter garb and turned to face him. Seated on the couch, his hand rubbing restless patterns on the end table beside him, Daulo glared back with barely controlled distaste. "If it's the outfit that offends you," she said coolly, "you'd better get used to it. From what you've told me it sounds like Mangus will be hiring mainly men for their work party, and if I'm going to get in it'll have to be disguised as a man."

He growled something under his breath. "This whole thing is ridiculous. Even if someone was out to get us, what makes you think they fell for that little game of yours? Suppose, for starters, they haven't noticed that that's our car parked outside the other apartment?"

"I told you one of those toughs was watching when we drove off this morning," she reminded him, pulling her full-face mask from the back of a chair and fitting it on. "You have to make it a little hard for them, Daulo-everyone gets suspicious of prizes handed over on silver platters."

"It'll serve you right if they're too stupid to catch your subtleties," he snorted. "Then while you're out there watching an empty apartment, they'll break in here instead."

"That's why you're going to have this," she told him, pulling a small cylinder from her belt and handing it over. "Short-range signaller-flip the top cap back and push the button if you're in trouble. I'm only going to be two blocks away;

I can be here before you've stopped insulting each other."

Sighing, he took the device. "I just hope all this is nothing but a fever-trick of your imagination."

"I hope so, too," she admitted, scooping up the pack she'd prepared and settling it onto her shoulders. "But if it isn't, then tonight is the obvious time for them to strike."

"I suppose so. Well, at least we'll know one way or another by morning."

Probably a lot sooner than that, Jin thought. "Right. Well, I'm off. Lock the door behind me, and don't be afraid to signal if you hear anything suspicious.

Promise?"

He managed a smile. "Sure. You watch yourself, Jin Moreau."

"I will." Activating her optical enhancers, she cracked open the door and looked outside. No one was in sight. Slipping out, she closed the door behind her and headed off down the street.

She'd been ensconced in her chosen place of concealment, halfway under an outside stairwell, for barely an hour when they showed up: the same seven toughs who'd accosted her and Daulo on the street that morning.

And it was quickly clear they weren't total amateurs at this. Moving silently down the deserted street, taking advantage of shadows and cover, they approached the vacant apartment from both directions. Two stopped at the car, presumably making sure no one was watching from there, before joining the rest at the apartment door. One crouched over the lock, and after a few seconds swung it open. Moving quickly, the group filed inside the darkened apartment.

They probably hadn't even realized yet that the place was deserted when she caught up with them; and it was for certain that none of them had a chance to shout before her disrupter's ultrasound washed over them from close range, hammering them into instant unconsciousness. They dropped into seven heaps on the floor and lay still.

Jin nearly wound up joining them. For a long minute she staggered against the wall, gripping her stomach and fighting to keep her balance. Layn had warned them about the dangers of using sonics in such enclosed spaces; but there had been no other way to silently disable the toughs without killing them. And questions of ethics apart, with the Shahni now aware that there was an outworlder on Qasama, leaving laser-ridden corpses lying around would be about as clever as standing up at the sajada and identifying herself as a demon warrior.

Eventually, the throbbing in her head and gut faded away, and she set about tying up the would-be assailants with rope from her pack. That accomplished, she stepped to the door again and scanned the street. Still no one in sight, and she gave silent thanks that Azras's night life shut down so early in the evening.

With a little luck, she might get back to the apartment in time to get at least a few hours' sleep.

Thoughts of the apartment reminded her of Daulo; Daulo, who still didn't believe they were under deliberate attack. Pulling her signaller from her belt, she flipped back the lid... and paused. True, she could show him evidence that the toughs had indeed tried it again, but given the Qasaman sense of personal honor, they might conceivably have launched this second attack entirely on their own.

What she needed was some kind of admission from one of them as to who had put them up to this job.

And until she had such a confession, there was no point in dragging Daulo out here. Putting the signaller back, she returned to the unconscious youths.

Assuming the one who'd thrown the first challenge this morning was the leader... locating him, she hoisted him to her shoulder and carried him across the street to the car. It would have been nice to have a supply of those sophisticated interrogation drugs they were always using in the telvide fictions, but in their absence she would just have to fell back on one of the more traditional methods.

And for that, she was going to need a little more privacy.

Starting the car, she headed off through Azras's deserted streets.

The knock on the door jolted Daulo awake, and for a disoriented heartbeat he stared in confusion at the darkened ceiling. Then it clicked. "Coming," he growled, getting stiffly out of the chair where he'd fallen asleep. Jasmine

Moreau, returning from her little hide-seek game-and the stupid woman had managed to forget the door's combination. If this is the kind of people who become Cobras, he thought sourly as he straightened his tunic and stomped to the door, we haven't got much to worry about. The knock came a third time; "I'm coming," he snarled and threw open the door.

Three men stood there: one middle-aged, the other two much younger. Their city-style clothing was all similar; their grim faces were almost identical.

"Are you Daulo Sammon of the village Milika?" the middle-aged man asked.

Daulo got his tongue working. "I am," he nodded. "And you?"

"May we come in?"

It wasn't really a question. Daulo stepped aside and the three filed into the room, the last flicking on the light as he passed the switch. "And you are...?"

Daulo asked again, squinting as his eyes tried to adjust to the sudden light.

The door was closed with a thud, and when Daulo could see clearly again he found the middle-aged man standing in front of him, holding out a gold-rimmed pendant from around his neck. "I am Moffren Omnathi; representing the Shahni of Qasama."

Daulo felt an icy shiver run up his back. "I am honored," he managed through stiff lips, making the sign of respect. "How may I serve you?"

Omnathi's eyes flicked around the room. "Your father, Kruin Sammon, sent the

Shahni a message through Mayor Capparis of the city Azras yesterday. Do you know the content of this message?"

"Ah... in a general way, yes," Daulo said, wishing he knew what, if anything, his father had told this man. "He said he was going to inform the Shahni that the Yithtra family had discovered an offworld artifact."

"Essentially correct," Omnathi nodded casually. "Do members of the Yithtra family find such artifacts regularly?"

Daulo frowned. "No, of course not, sir."

"Oh? An unusual event, then?"

"Most certainly."

"An event most people would think worth staying to see?"

Daulo fought to keep his expression neutral as he finally saw the net the other was weaving. "I suppose most people would, yes."