me."
"Warfare is luck, Mr. Neverlin," Frost countered in the
same tone. "And ours, I think, has just improved a little."
Taneem felt another shiver run up her back. Mr. Neverlin, the man
Jack and Draycos had told her about. No wonder his voice had chilled
her the way it had.
"We'll see, Colonel," Mr. Neverlin said softly. "Just remember
that it's our luck, not just yours."
"You just make sure Patri Chookoock understands that," Frost
retorted. "I'll see you in four days." He leaned over to the desk and
touched a switch.
Some of the desk's lights went out. For a moment Frost just sat
there, glaring at the far wall. Then, with a snort, he gathered
Alison's papers together from the desktop and put them back in the bag.
With the bag dangling from his hand, he stood up and strode from the
room.
Taneem lay where she was, trying to decide what to do. She could
continue on through the ducts and try to track Frost back to his own
room. Maybe she would have an opportunity there to get the bag back.
But Frost had talked about giving Alison more safes to open. If he
went straight there, she would have no warning of this new test. No,
Taneem had better return at once.
Turning around in the narrow space proved harder than she'd
expected. After a few failed attempts she hit on the plan of going to
the next duct, turning into it, backing up, then turning again into her
original duct. Taking care to move silently, she headed back.
She had gone perhaps half of the distance when she suddenly
realized that the scents coming from the grille directly ahead weren't
ones she'd smelled before.
She moved up to the grille and peered through. Beyond was some
kind of food preparation room, with neat rows of cookware and large and
gleaming rectangular boxes. From two of the boxes were wafting aromas
similar to those of their morning breakfast bread.
Backing up a step, she turned her neck around to look behind her.
The last intersection she could see looked familiar, but it clearly
wasn't. Somehow, amid all the ducts and cross-ducts and grilles and
risers, she had taken a wrong turn.
She was lost. Completely and thoroughly lost.
CHAPTER 10
With a start, Alison came awake.
For a moment she lay still, trying to figure out what had
disturbed her. Beyond her closed eyelids the room was still dark, so it
wasn't the false dawn Frost had programmed into the ship's mood
lighting system to mark the beginning of ship's day. There were no
sounds of movement, either, so Taneem wasn't off on one of her midnight
wanderings around the room.
Taneem.
Alison reached into the neck of her nightshirt and touched her
skin. A K'da in two-dimensional form didn't have much of a feel about
her. But there was some, and that feel was very definitely not there.
She opened her mouth to call, then changed her mind. Hunching her
way instead to the nightstand, she switched on the bedside light.
The lamp was set on low, though to darkness-adapted eyes it still
was uncomfortably bright. She squinted away from it a moment until her
pupils had adjusted, then gave the room a quick scan.
Taneem was nowhere to be seen. Swinging back the blankets, Alison
got out of bed. Maybe the K'da was in the bathroom.
And then her eyes fell on the air system grille. Not fastened to
the duct like it was supposed to be, but casually propped up against
the wall.
Apparently, Taneem had decided to go off exploring.
One of the room's chairs had an especially high back. Dragging it
over, Alison leaned it against the wall beneath the opening and climbed
up. Carefully, she eased her head into the duct.
Nothing was visible. "Taneem?" she called as loudly as she dared.
There was no answer. Hopping down from the chair, she went to the
desk and picked up her pocket flashlight.
And paused. All her tools and disguised burglar equipment were
there, right where she'd left them. But the bag she'd taken from Virgil
Morgan's Semaline lockbox was gone.
She turned back to the chair, stifling a curse. So
"Warfare is luck, Mr. Neverlin," Frost countered in the
same tone. "And ours, I think, has just improved a little."
Taneem felt another shiver run up her back. Mr. Neverlin, the man
Jack and Draycos had told her about. No wonder his voice had chilled
her the way it had.
"We'll see, Colonel," Mr. Neverlin said softly. "Just remember
that it's our luck, not just yours."
"You just make sure Patri Chookoock understands that," Frost
retorted. "I'll see you in four days." He leaned over to the desk and
touched a switch.
Some of the desk's lights went out. For a moment Frost just sat
there, glaring at the far wall. Then, with a snort, he gathered
Alison's papers together from the desktop and put them back in the bag.
With the bag dangling from his hand, he stood up and strode from the
room.
Taneem lay where she was, trying to decide what to do. She could
continue on through the ducts and try to track Frost back to his own
room. Maybe she would have an opportunity there to get the bag back.
But Frost had talked about giving Alison more safes to open. If he
went straight there, she would have no warning of this new test. No,
Taneem had better return at once.
Turning around in the narrow space proved harder than she'd
expected. After a few failed attempts she hit on the plan of going to
the next duct, turning into it, backing up, then turning again into her
original duct. Taking care to move silently, she headed back.
She had gone perhaps half of the distance when she suddenly
realized that the scents coming from the grille directly ahead weren't
ones she'd smelled before.
She moved up to the grille and peered through. Beyond was some
kind of food preparation room, with neat rows of cookware and large and
gleaming rectangular boxes. From two of the boxes were wafting aromas
similar to those of their morning breakfast bread.
Backing up a step, she turned her neck around to look behind her.
The last intersection she could see looked familiar, but it clearly
wasn't. Somehow, amid all the ducts and cross-ducts and grilles and
risers, she had taken a wrong turn.
She was lost. Completely and thoroughly lost.
CHAPTER 10
With a start, Alison came awake.
For a moment she lay still, trying to figure out what had
disturbed her. Beyond her closed eyelids the room was still dark, so it
wasn't the false dawn Frost had programmed into the ship's mood
lighting system to mark the beginning of ship's day. There were no
sounds of movement, either, so Taneem wasn't off on one of her midnight
wanderings around the room.
Taneem.
Alison reached into the neck of her nightshirt and touched her
skin. A K'da in two-dimensional form didn't have much of a feel about
her. But there was some, and that feel was very definitely not there.
She opened her mouth to call, then changed her mind. Hunching her
way instead to the nightstand, she switched on the bedside light.
The lamp was set on low, though to darkness-adapted eyes it still
was uncomfortably bright. She squinted away from it a moment until her
pupils had adjusted, then gave the room a quick scan.
Taneem was nowhere to be seen. Swinging back the blankets, Alison
got out of bed. Maybe the K'da was in the bathroom.
And then her eyes fell on the air system grille. Not fastened to
the duct like it was supposed to be, but casually propped up against
the wall.
Apparently, Taneem had decided to go off exploring.
One of the room's chairs had an especially high back. Dragging it
over, Alison leaned it against the wall beneath the opening and climbed
up. Carefully, she eased her head into the duct.
Nothing was visible. "Taneem?" she called as loudly as she dared.
There was no answer. Hopping down from the chair, she went to the
desk and picked up her pocket flashlight.
And paused. All her tools and disguised burglar equipment were
there, right where she'd left them. But the bag she'd taken from Virgil
Morgan's Semaline lockbox was gone.
She turned back to the chair, stifling a curse. So
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