Part 42 (2/2)

to defend oneself against.

As the woman had just demonstrated, the weapon worked very efficiently out of the water. It was tubed to her gelsuit airsystem, powered by the carbon diox- ide from her own lungs.

Her slightly taller male companion stood alongside her. A similar device was held loosely in his left hand.

The other was peeling gelsuit.

”Where did you people spring from?” The woman's query was a mixture of resentment and surprise. ”You, fat boy-hold it right there or it's sleepy time for you, too.” Mataroreva, who had started edging toward the

railing, was forced to halt.

Rachael was kneeling alongside Merced, showing somewhat more than ordinary concern. ”How strong

was the dosage, d.a.m.n you?”

”Not very. He'll sleep for a while and be good as new.” The woman's tone turned threatening as she

studied the two bodies by the hold opening. ”That's more than you can say for Solly and Chan-li.”

”We're from-” Cora started to explain.

Dawn cut her off quickly. ”We're the last survivors of Vai'oire. Don't talk to us about sympathy.”

”That may be.” The woman leaned against the in- ner wall of the cabin. Her companion, Cora saw to her dismay, was already yammering into the s.h.i.+p's trans- mitter. ”It's no concern of mine. We'll let Hazaribagh decide whether it's necessary to know where you come from.” She smiled meaningfully. ”There's no doubt in my mind where you're going. Though I may be wrong.”

”You've killed several thousand people,” Cora said angrily. ”Why pretend you're going to treat the five of us any differently?”

That caused the woman to frown. ”We haven't killed anybody. At least, I don't think so.”

”What are you talking about?”

”I said, we haven't killed anybody!” The woman, to Cora's great surprise, appeared honestly upset. ”I think that's about enough talking.” The muzzle of her weapon swung several degrees to starboard. ”And if you take one more step, fat boy, I'm going to put one of these into you. At this range I couldn't miss.”

Mataroreva, who had used the conversation to gain another couple of meters toward the cabin, said qui- etly, ”You keep calling me fat boy, and I'll make that toy pistol into a necklace for you.”

”Okay.” She took a couple of nervous steps back- ward. ”Standoff, then. You keep your feet still and I'll do the same with my mouth.”

For all her initial bravado, the woman did not strike Cora as a coldblooded member of a band of ruthless killers. What was going on here?

Undoubtedly they would soon find out. Other divers appeared, to desuit on deck while muttering with seeming confusion about the presence of the five

182.

CACHALOT.

CACHALOT.

183.

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