Winds of darkness - Part Two

		(c) 2001, Wirewolf
		(Rewritten 2/1/99)

  Zephanthus peered around a support column at his target.  The boy's back was to him.  
He padded silently along the balcony railing until he was directly behind his quarry.  He 
sat down, stretching his neck until his nose was inches from the target.  He blew a soft 
'whuff' of breath into the boy's ear.

  Kitress swung around, his eyes wide.  With a firm push from one forepaw, Zanth put 
him off balance.  He thumped to the carpeted deck with a grunt.

  "Ow!"  He rolled onto his side and twitched his tail out from under him.  Zanth moved 
closer.

  "Land on it wrong?"  he asked.

  "It bent back," Kitress confirmed, rubbing the root of his tail.  The tundra cat held out 
his paw again, this time to help him up.  "It's no fun playing when you don't make any 
sound at all," he complained.

  "Maybe I should wear a bell."  Zanth seemed rather smug about his advantage at 'seek.'

  Kitress sighed and leaned against the railing.  Looking down at the mass of people, he 
said, "Maybe we should play something else."  His favorite game at school was 'twist,' but 
there wasn't enough room on the balcony to play.  Besides, it involved a lot of shouting 
and he knew that would cause him trouble.  He looked at Zephanthus.  He knew what he 
really wanted to do, but he was denied that also.

  "I wish I was little again so you could carry me like you used to."

  Zanth nuzzled his friend.  He missed the old times too.  Redics and T'yonnosh had been 
assigned as Sesh's personal guards several years ago.  While that assignment had only 
lasted a few months, Zanth and Kitress had become great friends.  They had gone 
exploring at Sesh's estate, careened through the house, gone swimming together.

  He bit gently at Kitress' ear, then licked at the sensitive hairs inside.  The boy giggled 
and shook his head.
 
"We'll make a new game," Zanth said.

  **************************

  When Ria's presentation was over, the initial ceremony concluded.  Chairs were 
abandoned and the tables of food were brought out.  Soft strains of high-pitched Yrboti 
music mixed with the sounds of conversation.  Redics and T'yonnosh separated again to 
keep an eye on things. 

  Redics noticed Garvin talking to Ria J'uoch.  He wondered if he had met her once 
through Garvin.  Before he could approach the two, he saw Stretreten heading in his 
direction.  Another conversation with the diplomat was not something he wanted.  Using 
a bulky human crew member from the Alvarado as cover, he ducked out of Stretreten's 
line of sight.  It was childish, perhaps, but preferable to the alternative. 

  He moved to the outer edge of the milling crowd.  From there, he could catch glimpses 
of the security personnel Garvin had mentioned.  He glanced up at the balcony.  He could 
see both Kitress and Zanth.  They seemed to be talking intently.  Across the large hall, he 
saw T'yonnosh talking to a small woman in a security uniform.  The woman nodded 
once, then walked away.  T'yonnosh looked around, saw him and flicked his ears in an 
exaggerated gesture that meant all was well.  He tilted his head to one side in response. 

  Everything seemed to be going well.  Redics felt he could relax just a little.  Perhaps 
Garvin's rumors were unfounded.  He laughed to himself.  His luck was never that good. 

  **************************

  While looking around, T'yonnosh had an opportunity to talk to Prulim.  She had been 
telling him a little of the history of Outreach when she paused, looking over his shoulder.  
He turned to find a Group of Dheway standing in a knot by the hall entrance.  The 
Dheway were natives of Yrbo's nearest neighboring star system.  They had been the 
declared enemy of the Yrboti for years.  After the Alliance of Free Worlds had 
orchestrated peace between the two, only Yrbo had been willing to join the A.F.W.  
There was still some distrust between Yrbo and Dhewa. 

  The Dheway stayed by the doorway.  Their round, chubby faces looked pained as they 
glanced around the hall with quick, nervous gestures.  This was the way all Dheway 
appeared.  Long strips of brightly colored cloth hung from metal rings around their 
stubby necks.  The strips lay against their plump, round bodies to serve as clothing. 

  T'yonnosh wondered if this might be the trouble Garvin had anticipated.  "Were they 
expected?" he politely asked the Director. 

  "No," she replied.  "They are merchants.  Lost, most likely." 

  The Dheway noticed Prulim and immediately moved toward her.  They stepped in 
unison and stayed pressed against each other.  Dheway lived their lives in tight Groups, 
such as these merchants.  What determined who lived in which Group no one but the 
Dheway knew.  They refused to speak on the subject. 

  T'yonnosh took a few steps back as the merchants faced Prulim.  One of them thrust a 
small, clawed hand out.  In it was a battered translator.  The person began making sounds 
in the back of its throat without opening its mouth. 

  "Gathering crowd active confuse purpose explain."  The translator's words were shrill 
and hurt T'yonnosh's ears. 

  "This is a convention of Alliance peoples," Prulim told the apparent leader. 

  The Dheway holding the translator began waving its short arms in agitation.  It grunted 
again. 

  "Unaware surprise station attention unknown self presence explain." 

  "I was not told of your arrival," she explained.  She sounded apologetic to T'yonnosh, 
but with her grating voice it was hard to be certain.  "If I had known you were here, I 
would have made arrangements for your inclusion." 

  Several of the Dheway were waving their arms and grunting by then.  The leader shook 
the translator wildly. 

  "Outrage deliberate Director responsible acknowledge merchant delay outrage." 

  While the translator provided a dead monotone, it was obvious the words were intended 
to be shouted.  They started shuffling their feet and waving their arms in unison. 

  "This was not an intentional insult and I ask your forgiveness.  Perhaps we can arrange a 
reimbursement." 

  Prulim's words had no effect.  At least not until the word 'reimbursement' was used.  The 
Dheway quieted almost instantly. 

  "Arrangement," the translator squealed. 

  "I will begin by waiving the docking fee.  I will also reduce your import tariffs by half." 

  "Continue." 

  Prulim considered a moment.  "First to put your cargo on the open market when it 
reopens tomorrow." 

  "Accept."  The hand with the translator slipped back under the cloth strips and the 
Group walked away without another word. 

  "Is that typical for them?" T'yonnosh asked as they left. 

  "Yes.  Theatrics and bluster." 

  While they seemed belligerent and irritable, T'yonnosh did not feel the Dheway would 
be a threat to security.  At least not those Dheway. 

  **************************

  The celebration was finally winding down.  Almost half the guests had already left and 
those remaining were drifting away in small groups. 

  Redics was relieved that Garvin's worries had been unfounded.  He was rather tired and 
looked forward to getting some sleep.  Afterward, he and T'yonnosh could begin work on 
the Ti Phorus. 

  As he made one last pass by the banquet tables, he saw Garvin talking to Ria J'uoch 
again.  He chose a sipi stick, an Yrboti confection, and made his way over to them. 

  Garvin noticed him approaching and said, "Here he is now.  Redics, I'd like you to meet 
Ria J'uoch."  Redics transferred his sipi stick to his other hand as he grasped hers and 
shook.  "Ria, this is Redics Mlkosni."  Garvin smiled broadly at them as they exchanged 
greetings.  "I've been trying to convince Ria to join our staff.  In fact I was just telling her 
how effective the two of you would be as a team." 

  Ria couldn't help smiling when Redics turned a wide-eyed stare at his employer.  It was 
obvious that this Redics fellow felt the same way about the proposed partnership she did.  
Perhaps she could help him out. 

  With a glint in her eye, she asked, "You like sipi?" 

  Thrown off by her question, he hesitated before replying, "Uh, yes.  Although this is 
actually the first one I've had." 

  "They're too sweet for my taste." 

  Redics had an idea what she was doing, and took up where she left off. 

  "I've been wondering, have we met somewhere before?  You look familiar somehow." 

  Ria studied him a moment.  "No, I don't think we have.  I'd have remembered eyes like 
yours." 

  Garvin wouldn't be put off so easily.  "What do you think, Redics?  Wouldn't she be a 
great help to you?" 

  Redics decided he was too tired to play Garvin's game.  "I have a partner.  Do you need 
us for anything else?" 

  Jim Garvin laid a heavy hand on Redics' shoulder and said, "Would you excuse us a 
moment, Ria?"  He lead Redics a few paces away. 

  "Would you mind helping me out here?  You know how long I've been wanting to get a 
good telepath on the staff.  She's the perfect match for you."  He held up his hands to 
forestall Redics' objections.  "I don't intend to split you and T'yonnosh.  In fact, I was 
hoping to make you a team of three.  She's the best candidate I've found yet." 

  When Redics didn't respond, Garvin forged ahead.  "I know this is kind of sudden, but 
you have to admit she would be-" 

  "Jim," Redics interrupted, "even if you convinced me, it doesn't take a telepath to see 
that she's happy talking to bugs.  You'll never convince her to leave her first contact 
work." 

  "But-" 

  Redics shook his head.  "Sorry, Jim.  Do you need us anymore?" 

  Garvin studied him a moment.  Apparently he was willing to let the matter go, for now.  
"No.  And thanks for coming." 

  "Sure.  Where are you headed next?" 

  "Earth.  There's a debate within the ICC about letting private colonization ships leave 
Alliance space with faster-than-light technology aboard." 

  The corner of Redics' mouth twitched.  "So they've already forgotten about us receiving 
FTL drive technology as a gift from the Bethrea, eh?" 

  Garvin just nodded.  "Take care." 

  Redics clapped him on the shoulder.  "See you around, Jim."  He walked off, looking for 
T'yonnosh and munching on his sipi. 

  As he watched him go, Garvin's expression became puzzled.  "Bugs?" he wondered 
aloud. 

  **************************

  T'yonnosh was not hard to find.  He was standing by himself near the platform, leaning 
against it with his elbows, his hands laced across his chest.  He twitched his ears as 
informal greeting, but his eyes were half closed.  He obviously felt just as tired as Redics. 

  "Garvin's released us.  Have you seen Zanth?" 

  "Not lately."  He looked at the half-eaten confection in Redics' hand.  "Where did you 
get that?" 

  Redics pointed in the direction of the food tables.  He glanced at the section of the 
upper balcony that he could see.  There was no sign of Zanth or Kitress. 

  "What about Sesh?" 

  "No.  What does it taste like?" 

  Redics looked at T'yonnosh.  The face revealed nothing, but the cant of his caniform 
partner's ears showed amusement.  He felt himself smile despite how tired he was.  
"Here," he said, and handed the sipi stick to him.  "I'm going to look for Zanth." 

  "Better hurry," T'yonnosh warned. 

  Redics frowned.  "Why?" 

  T'yonnosh nibbled on the sipi and didn't answer. 

  From behind him, Redics heard a familiar voice ask, "A wonderful celebration, won't 
you think?" 

  "Perfect," Redics groaned. 

  **************************

  Vaporous curls etched their way across the huge panel of forced crystal that served as 
one of the windows of the meeting hall.  Kitress watched with declining interest as the 
heat of his breath spread lace patterns under his nose then quickly evaporated into the dry 
station air without a trace.  The window was frigid from being exposed to space on its 
outer surface.  Forced crystal was a poor insulator compared to the materials used by the 
Alliance.  His father had told him that. 

  Kitress sighed, creating a larger breath bloom.  He took his nose away from the window 
and rubbed it to bring some warmth back.  He looked at Zanth.  His friend was still 
watching Yrbo spin below them.  The sight seemed to fascinate the tundra cat. 

  "How many planets have you been to?" he asked while tracing a finger along the frame 
of the window. 

  Zephanthus looked up.  "I don't know.  I don't count." 

  When Kitress responded with only a quiet "Oh," Zanth turned back to the window.  A 
moment later, a thought struck him and he looked at Kitress again.  "How many have you 
been to?" 

  "Two." 

  Zanth recognized the tone of voice and the sagging ears.  He pressed on. 

  "Which ones?" 

  "Demrion and Earth." 

  Including Demrion, Kitress' own home world, in his list of planets he had 'been to' told 
Zanth what he suspected was true.  The boy was feeling a bit of wanderlust.  He was 
often frustrated in his wish to travel with his father because of his school schedule.  He 
once told Zanth that he would rather travel like his father and Redics did than anything 
else. 

  "What about this place?  Will you go down to Yrbo?" Zanth asked, putting a paw 
against the window to point. 

  "No.  My father says the gravity is too strong."  Disappointment was heavy in his voice. 

  Zanth could understand Sesh's decision.  He had been to a high-g planet once.  He 
looked at Kitress, an idea forming. 

  "You're lucky.  I had to go to a high gravity planet with Redics once.  It was awful." 

  Kitress stared at him, curiosity mixing with disbelief.  "Really?  Why?" 

  "You feel like there's someone standing on top of you all the time.  And you walk like a 
new-borne cub, all weak in the legs."  Zanth began pacing around, putting a trembling 
falter in his step that was very close to what he remembered his experience being.  "It's 
hard to breathe, too.  You wheeze like you have become old and decrepit.  And your ears 
and eyes hurt."  He started coughing and breathing in thin, weak gasps.  He shook his 
heavy head as though to clear the pain.  His legs wobbled even more as he staggered 
about, rasping and twitching his ears. 

  Kitress couldn't help laughing at his friend's comic display.  He laughed all the harder 
when Zanth's careening carried him smack into Kitress' legs, almost knocking him over. 

  "And then," he declared, "you pass out from exhaustion."  He dropped stiffly onto his 
side and let his tongue hang from his open mouth. 

  Still smiling, Kitress knelt by the tundra cat's head.  "Be glad you don't have to go 
through that!" Zephanthus said. 

  The caniform boy scratched the thick fur at Zanth's shoulder.  "Silly." 

  Zanth sat up and pushed his head into Kitress' chest, glad he had helped to lighten his 
friend's mood. 

  **************************

  "It started with the drawing of tiny threads of cerium.  The cerium threads are charged 
and interwoven with terbium and rhodium.  When the threads were successfully woven, 
they are spun at high speed within an inducted thoron field."  Stretreten had been talking 
animatedly for several minutes about spun metals and showed no signs of slowing down. 

  To make things worse, T'yonnosh was perversely urging him on by asking questions.  
Redics found the conversation boring and incomprehensible.  He had nearly failed 
physics in school.  T'yonnosh had done fairly well in his physics classes, but Redics 
couldn't remember him ever really caring much for the subject.  Why the caniform would 
suddenly develop an interest in spun metals was beyond him.  Perhaps he was 
deliberately goading Stretreten on as retaliation for Redics' earlier remark about 
scratching behind caniform ears. 

  Redics stifled another yawn while T'yonnosh asked, "Doesn't the radioactivity of a 
thoron field make those metals inherently brittle?" 

  "Yes, it did."  The Yrboti diplomat lowered his voice as though he were giving away 
vital secrets.  "But it is found that after spinning, a brief exposure to energized deuterium 
changes the bonding structure at the molecular level.  The resulting metal is still brittle, 
but only under extreme stress."  Stretreten waved his arms in a grand gesture.  "In fact, 
such methods were used to make many components of this station.  It is a great technical 
achievement." 

  While T'yonnosh asked another question, Redics reflected that the only technical 
achievement he was interested in were the lifts that ran out to the docking ring. 

  **************************

  Zephanthus looked over the balcony railing at the scattering crowds below.  Redics 
would probably want to leave soon. 

  "Hey, Zanth," Kitress called.

  Zanth looked over his shoulder at the boy.  "We should go back down," he said. 

  Kitress pointed to a bulge on the frame of the huge crystal window. 

  "Look at this," he said.  The bulge was as big as Kitress and looked out of place among 
the clean lines and sharp angles that defined most of Yrboti architecture.  When Kitress 
rapped on the bulge with his knuckles, it gave a hollow sound, more like extruded plastic 
than metal. "What do you think it is?" 

  Zanth looked further along the curved balcony at the next section of window frame.  
Even from where he stood, he could easily see an identical lump on the next frame.  
"Decoration, maybe." 

  He looked again at the bulge.  It almost resembled a blister on the skin of some large 
creature.  Why hadn't he noticed it before? 

  Curious, he stood on his hind legs and placed a paw against it.  It felt as cold as the 
surrounding metal did.  He lowered his head to listen and smell, the two senses he relied 
on the most.  There was nothing to hear, but there was definitely an odor that was out of 
place.  The sharp tang that most metals gave off was missing.  There was also an 
underlying scent that he could barely detect, one he was sure he knew. 

  He sniffed intently around the edge of the deformation.  Kitress watched silently.  Near 
the bottom edge he caught it again, stronger this time. 

  He jerked back.  He snorted and shook his head.  No, that couldn't be right.  He sniffed 
again. 

  It was still there, and there was no doubt.  He backed away.  Puzzled, Kitress asked, 
"What's wrong?" 

  He leaned over the railing again and looked for Redics.  There were fewer people left in 
the hall but he couldn't find the one he wanted. 

  "Redics," he called.  Perhaps the translator signal would reach his ear receiver.  "Redics, 
I need you." 

  "What is it?" Kitress asked again.  "Is something wrong?" 

  "Redics, I have a problem on the balcony.  Can you hear me?" 

  Still nothing.  He turned to the Sadrao boy.  "We have to get down from here." 

  **************************

  "The production facilities are moved to an orbiting platform when we found a null 
gravity environment was better suited to the spinning of metals." 

  Redics had heard enough.  Stretreten and T'yonnosh had been bantering about spun 
metals too long and he had used up the last of his patience.  He opened his mouth to 
make some excuse and depart in quick order. 

  A low, dull pulse of sound stopped him.  It also stopped Stretreten and T'yonnosh. 

  "What was that?" T'yonnosh asked the Yrboti diplomat. 

  Stretreten paused a moment before declaring, "Probably just a freighter rubbing against 
the docking platforms.  Not all ships have accurate short range proximity sensors." 

  "Rub?"  T'yonnosh' s skepticism echoed Redics' own. 

  "There will be no problems.  Outreach is triple-hulled with corindium plating and spun 
tritanium bracing."  Stretreten flung his thin arms wide to encompass the whole station.  
The partners were not encouraged by the diplomat's assurances.  Redics thought back to 
his conversation with Garvin, wondering how many forms of political 'embarrassment' 
there were. 

  **************************

  Zephanthus snarled.  He, too, had heard the dull thud.  Now he heard the whine of stress 
singing through the hull of the station and being amplified by the crystalline windows.  
"Zanth!"  Kitress also heard the sounds and was nervous.

  "Follow me.  We have to get down."  He headed for the staircase at the end of the 
balcony.  Kitress hesitated. 

  "But the lifts are the other way." 

  "We can't trust the lifts now," Zanth said forcefully.  "Stay with me." 

  He looked over his shoulder and saw Kitress start running after him.  He silently praised 
the boy's good sense.  As he moved at a fast walk, he repeated a short description in 
hopes Redics would hear and be able to help. 

  "Redics, this is an emergency.  Someone has placed explosives near the windows." 

  **************************

  The sound came again.  It reminded Redics of large metal doors slamming closed from 
a great distance.  Only the ringing of metal was missing.  Perhaps the diplomat was right.  
It could be the impact of ship against station.  But why a second time? 

  "What are they doing now?  Bouncing?" 

  With a strange twisting of his mouth that Redics assumed was a frown, Stretreten said, 
"Perhaps it is an inexperienced pod jockey."  He looked to his left, the relative direction 
of the docking ring from the hall.  "Going to damage the locks doing that."  He glanced at 
Redics.  "The seals were somewhat fragile."  Redics stared back, not saying anything. 

  They waited a few moments, listening for the sound to come again. 

  It came.  Louder this time.  The direction was impossible to figure out.  The sound was 
being carried by the superstructure of the station.  Redics noticed T'yonnosh looking 
down at his feet. 

  Redics scanned the other remaining guests in the hall.  They all seemed to notice the 
odd sounds.  A few were pointing, perhaps guessing where the noise was originating. 

  "Impact's closer this time," T'yonnosh said.  Redics turned to him.  The Sadrao's ears 
were pitched forward, the beginnings of alarm.  "The deck's vibrating." 

  Redics felt nothing.  "Are you sure?  I don't-" 

  "You're wearing boots," T'yonnosh interrupted. 

  Redics considered.  If the point of impact was moving, that ruled out a ship docking.  
He shook his head.  Perhaps not.  He forgot that this station rotated to provide gravity.  If 
a ship had problems docking and became disabled, then perhaps the station was hitting 
the ship as parts of it rotated past where the ship was drifting. 

  T'yonnosh pulled the comm unit Garvin had given him and activated it. 

  "Jim, this is T'yonnosh.  Please respond."  Stretreten looked at him curiously. 

  The next explosion, and neither Redics nor T'yonnosh doubted it was an explosion now, 
was loud enough to cause the deck to shake noticeably and the air to hum.  People in the 
hall began milling about in confusion and fear.  Station bound folk knew the dangers of 
living in their self-contained world.  Any threat to the station itself was a threat to them 
all. 

  Stretreten felt the deck shake and felt fear clutch at his hearts.  His confidence in 
Outreach's hull went only so far.  "Perhaps we are moving to a safer area?"  The inhaled 
grating of his voice couldn't cover the slight edge of panic in his words. 

  A new noise filled the hall.  A high, keening sound that galvanized the stationers into 
movement.  It was quite obvious they were hearing an alarm.  What it warned against 
they didn't know, but it was certainly serious. 

  "Is the station being attacked?" Redics asked no one in particular. 

  T'yonnosh's hand gripped his shoulder.  With his other hand he pointed at something 
that commanded his attention. 

  The doorways around the meeting hall, framed in strobing yellow lights, were being 
closed.  The huge section seals were coming down. 

  **************************

  By the time he reached the stairs, Zephanthus was at a dead run.  He was sure the series 
of explosions was meant to disable the station.  He had to find Redics. 

  He stopped at the top of the stairs, looking behind him.  Kitress was some distance off, 
running as fast as he could.  Zanth loudly urged him to hurry anyway.  The last explosion 
had been close, and he feared the bulge they had discovered would be the next one to go. 

  "Redics, Kitress and I are on the balcony by the stairs.  We're coming down." 

  He looked at Kitress again.  Still too far away.  "Come on!" he roared. 

  **************************

  Stretreten gaped at the section seals that were coming down, but only for a second.  He 
shook Redics' arm and shouted, "One of the decks has gone to vacuum!  We must get to 
the core!"  He ran for the nearest doorway. 

  The partners looked at each other.  "The Ti Phorus," T'yonnosh said. 

  Redics nodded.  They would be safest aboard the ship.  Then he remembered. 

  "Where's Zanth?" 

  T'yonnosh was only dimly aware of where the next explosion came from, somewhere 
above them on the balcony.  It assaulted his senses with numbing speed.  A painfully 
brilliant flash of light burned his eyes while a thundering jolt of sound seemed to echo 
both inside and outside his skull. 

  Worst was the physical attack of expanding air that slammed into him from behind.  It 
drove the breath from his lungs and pushed him to the brink of consciousness.  There was 
another sensation, almost overwhelmed by the others.  He could feel the needle sharp 
strikes of shrapnel hitting his legs and head. 

  When T'yonnosh realized he had survived the explosion and was lying on the carpeted 
deck of the hall, his first thought was that he was blind.  All he could see was a murky 
swirling of white and gray.  When he closed his eyes, the white was gone and the dark of 
true blindness swept over him.  He opened his eyes and knew.  The hall was filled with 
dense smoke. 

  He took a deep breath to see if his ribs were intact.  The smoke was laced with the acrid 
residue of scorched plastics and burned his nose and throat.  Gagging, he covered his 
snout with his hands.  He rolled onto his back and sat up, feeling the prickly anger of his 
wounds.  The smoke was bringing tears to his eyes.  He squeezed them shut and tried to 
listen. 

  He had to find Redics and Zanth. 

  He felt rather than heard the groan that came from his burning throat. 

  **************************

  Zephanthus recovered from the initial blast faster than T'yonnosh for he had been 
further away from it.  That hadn't saved him from being thrown down the stairs in a 
yowling frenzy of thrashing legs.  There was also a hot line of pain on the inside of his 
left foreleg, a piece of flying debris that had found him. 

  He got to his feet and shook his head.  As he looked around, a thick white wall of smoke 
enveloped him.  It blinded his eyes and nose as effectively as a bag over his head would 
have.  He pawed angrily at his muzzle for a moment, coughing and sneezing. 

  It was useless.  He snarled in frustration and sank his claws into the carpet, wanting for 
an irrational moment to kill the smoke, to sink his teeth into the throat of the cause of his 
torment.  Eventually he just stood, splay-legged and panting.  Breathing through his 
mouth increased the burning, but also helped him to calm down.  He had to think straight 
to get out of this situation. 

  His first cause for concern was Kitress.  He had no idea where the boy was now, or if he 
was even still alive.  Zanth looked around and saw nothing but smoke.  He had no clear 
idea where he was or how to find the boy. 

  "Kitress," he roared as loudly as he could.  If he stayed were he was and called out then 
perhaps Kitress would find him.  "Kitress!" 

  After a few moments, the ringing in Zanth's ears had subsided enough to let him hear 
other people around him.  Mostly he heard moans and cries of pain.  The smoke was just 
starting to thin out, dispersed by the overtaxed vents.  He called out Kitress' name several 
more times, then started calling for Redics as well. 

  Through his watering eyes, Zanth saw a moving shadow at his right.  He took a step 
forward, asking, "Kitress?" 

  Another shadow moved along side the first.  He heard voices, strangely muffled grunts 
that seemed unaffected by the choking haze.  The shadows moved closer.  Zanth froze. 

  An arm shrouded in a heavy sleeve and glove reached out and grabbed at the base of the 
tundra cat's neck.  It held with a bruisingly tight grip. 

  Zephanthus hissed and took a solid claws-out swipe at the arm, but couldn't dislodge the 
grip.  The arm's owner shouted something and the second shadow moved to press against 
Zanth's shoulder.  He felt a second hand trying to get a hold of his fur. 

  His anger mounting, Zanth reared back and twisted to shake the second shadow's 
groping hand.  He then launched himself at the one holding his neck.  When he collided 
with his attacker he opened his mouth and bit at the first place he could.  He felt tough 
fabric against his tongue and tasted a bitter fluid as his teeth slid through the suit and into 
flesh. 

  The shadow's grip was broken and Zanth plunged into a run.  He tripped over a body 
lying on the deck, but was back up in an instant.  He ran some more, until he almost ran 
headlong into a wall  There he stopped.  His anger and frustration tightened his chest.  
The shadows had kept him from finding Kitress. 

  The smoke was finally clearing enough so that Zephanthus could see a few meters 
away.  There was no one around him.  His nose and throat still stung, leaving only his 
eyes to help him. 

  He had to find Redics.  Unless he wanted to increase the risk of running into those 
groping shadows again, he was left with only one way to find him. 

  "Redics!  Redics!" 

  **************************

  Redics found himself on the deck without being quite sure how he had gotten there.  He 
wasn't entirely sure where he was, either.  He was certain of how much pain he felt.  
Someone had plunged a red-hot spear into his left shoulder and his head ached terribly.  
His throat was raw and scratchy.  He coughed, and his chest spasmed as a flood of heat 
flashed through his insides. 

  He tried to move.  He clenched his fists, bent his arms, flexed his shoulders.  The fiery 
spear in his shoulder twisted, causing a hoarse shout to push past the smoldering rawness 
of his throat. 

  White.  Everything around him was covered in a shifting veil of white.  He blinked, 
realizing for the first time that he was actually alive to see white, to feel pain. 

  How had this happened?  What had happened?  His mind was slowly coming out of the 
darkness and sorting through bits of memory that were relevant to these questions. 

  A flash.  Light that seemed to pierce the body.  No, an explosion. 

  Sound and movement and pain.  A concussion of moving air within the contained area 
of the meeting hall that seemed to press the very life out of him, tossing him like a dead 
leaf in an autumn storm, a wall that fell over him, a crushing thunder. 

  An explosion.  Above him.  Redics groaned, wondering if anyone else had lived through 
it. 

  He could feel everything now.  He was on his back, his legs trembling, his hands 
absently trying to grope for something.  He smelled burning plastics and suddenly feared 
the prospect of fire within the station.  He rolled onto his right side and pushed himself 
up. 

  Looking around, he could see only smoke, a haze that obscured everything beyond a 
meter or two.  He could see no fire, but that didn't rule out the possibility.  A sound came 
from his right, a moan.  There are other survivors, he thought.  He managed to get to his 
knees, then to his feet.  His left shoulder twitched, more pain. 

  He looked at his wound and was surprised to see only a small hole in his shirt outlined 
by a little blood.  He touched the spot tenderly with his right hand.  The spear twisted 
again, and Redics almost went back down to his knees. 

  When the pain had eased off enough, Redics started walking.  He had no idea where he 
was going, only that he should be moving away from where he was. 

  He heard another sound.  Two sounds, actually.  A familiar growling, off to his left and 
out of sight, and a static-laced computerized voice whispering in his right ear that said, 
"Redics.  Redics." 

  **************************

  Sounds were starting to come back to T'yonnosh.  He could hear voices off to his left.  
He heard the rumbling vibrations of the explosions still coursing through the station's 
superstructure.  Overlapping these was the now intermittent screeching of the alarm. 

  The smoke was clearing now.  He could see at least ten meters away.  Redics was still 
missing, though.  He couldn't understand how the human had vanished. 

  Gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, he forced himself to stand.  His legs protested, 
sending sparks of pain up his spine as a hindrance.  He stood for a moment, getting used 
to the feeling.  There were at least two wounds in his right leg and three that he could 
feel in his left.  There was another hit on the back of his head, just behind the cluster of 
muscles that controlled the rotation of his right ear.  Moving that ear lit threads of fire 
across the back of his scalp and up into the ear itself. 

  A shout came from his left.  It sounded like Redics, but he couldn't understand what had 
been said.  He tried to give a reply but his throat closed, turning his own shout into a fit 
of coughing. 

  T'yonnosh headed in the direction of the voice.  It was difficult to walk, but to his relief 
it seemed to get easier as he went.  By the time he reached the large double doors they 
had come in, the pain had dulled to a gripping throb.  To his dismay, Redics was nowhere 
in sight. 

  There were other people by the doors, about ten in all.  Most were sitting or lying on the 
floor.  He recognized no one. 

  Looking back out across the hall, T'yonnosh still saw no sign of Redics or Zanth.  The 
smoke had retreated even more, letting him see almost to the platform.  A few motionless 
bodies lay scattered across the hall.  One person he could see was moving weakly.  It 
appeared to be an Yrboti. 

  "Can you get it down?"  A weak voice came from behind him.  He turned to see a 
female Thurnockt leaning against the wall.  She was dressed in the smudged and 
scorched remains of a delicate orange gown.  Her thin face and body were similar to the 
Yrboti build, except that her fragile appearance revealed the truth of her race's physical 
stature.  Much of her exposed skin was marked with the beginnings of some painful 
looking bruises.  T'yonnosh was surprised she had survived the blast at all. 

  The Thurnockt, a diplomat according to the gilt bracelets jingling on her wrists, was 
looking with concern at a male human near the doors.  The man was doing something to 
the control panel that operated the doors. 

  T'yonnosh looked up and saw the cause of her concern.  The section seal had stopped 
halfway down.  The doors themselves hadn't closed, which meant something had gone 
wrong in the control systems.  The human was apparently trying to bypass the problem 
and bring down the seal manually. 

  "Give me a minute, will you?", the human snapped back.  "I'm only guessing at how this 
panel works!" 

  T'yonnosh glanced again at the battered group of survivors.  Most of them seemed to be 
watching the human at work.  He looked out across the hall.  The Yrboti he had seen 
moving lay still now. 

  "Wait," he said.  Redics and Zephanthus were out there.  He had to get to them, bring 
them to the section seal.  "Wait.  There are still people out there."  He looked at the 
human.  "My friends are out there." 

  The man gave him a look of annoyance and snarled, "Fine.  Go out there and get them.  
But when this door closes, it's not opening again."  He turned back to his work, muttering 
angrily to himself. 

  Movement by the corner of the door caught T'yonnosh's attention.  An Yrboti in a spun 
metal tunic and kilt crawled over the threshold of the door and collapsed.  She lay 
panting, a small cut on the tip of her chin dripping blackish blood.  "Doors close," she 
gasped.  "Seal close." 

  The human looked down at her.  He grunted and pushed past T'yonnosh to kneel by her.  
"How?" he demanded loudly.  "How do I get the seal to drop?" 

  T'yonnosh gazed anxiously across the hall.  He was afraid this door might be the only 
one still open.  If he left, there was no way to guarantee it would be open on his return, or 
that the angry human would not keep to his word about refusing to open it.  If he could at 
least catch sight of them, he could ask for some extra time. 

  "Panel control remove," the Yrboti told the human.  Impatient, the human yelled, "It's 
already open!  What do I do with the exposed circuits?" 

  "Calm down.  You're only putting more stress on her."  That came from another human 
male.  This man was dressed in a ICCN uniform and wore a lieutenant's insignia on his 
tunic.  He had been sitting against the wall with his head between his knees but was now 
paying close attention to the angry human. 

  The angry man glared at the lieutenant.  "Keep out of this.  I'm trying to save our lives." 

  The Yrboti woman had gotten a bit of her strength back.  She sat up and said, "Circuits 
remove.  Switch relay remove.  Bars long." 

  The human stood and reached into the open panel. 

  "No, wait," T'yonnosh protested.  "Can't you give me just a few minutes?  My friends 
are still out there." 

  As he groped blindly with his hand in the open access, the angry man yelled at 
T'yonnosh.  "Shut up!  If you want to go then go!  If one of those windows let go then 
we'll all die, not just your friends!" 

  At that moment, he pulled his hand out of the access.  In his hand was a long bar that 
contained the control circuits.  Immediately the large doors closed, almost catching the 
Yrboti woman's foot. 

  "No!"  T'yonnosh moved toward the open panel, but was stalled when the human 
quickly took up a fighting stance. 

  "I told you this door is staying closed.  Now back off!" 

  A loud groan of protesting metal sounded above them.  They both looked up to see the 
heavy section seal slide down a meter or so, then stop again. 

  The Yrboti woman stood, grimacing and speaking in her native language.  Then she 
pointed at the stalled seal and said, "Understanding no.  Seal fail-safe is.  Fail-safe." 

  T'yonnosh pressed himself against the hall door, looking through a row of windows set 
along the hinged edge.  Most of the smoke had cleared and still there was no sign of his 
companions.  He felt the cold fingers of fear closing around his chest. 

  The Yrboti woman moved over to the panel, the human only grudgingly giving her the 
needed room.  She put her gnarled hand inside and tried to bring the seal down.  Despite 
her efforts, it wouldn't move. 

  The Thurnockt diplomat asked. "Are those doors strong enough to withstand pressure 
release?"  The Yrboti looked at her without comprehension. 

  "Vacuum!" the human clarified and banged his hand against the door for emphasis.  
"Vacuum!" 

  She looked him squarely in the eye and said, "No.  Hold no vacuum.  Break." 

  "Gods," muttered the Thurnockt. 

  **************************

  The smoke was finally giving way.  Redics and Zanth saw each other at the same time.  
The tundra cat looked well except for a slight limp. 

  Redics knelt, putting his hand on Zanth's shoulder.  "How bad?" was all he asked.  
Zephanthus had been through enough with him to know what he was asking. 

  "Not too bad.  It stings.  You?" 

  Redics looked again at the small hole in his shirt.  "This is the only one, but it hurts a 
lot."  He stared at Zanth a moment.  "I lost track of T'yonnosh." 

  Zanth stared back.  "I lost Kitress." 

  "Where?"  T'yonnosh could fend for himself, but the boy was a different matter. 

  "Up there."  Zanth turned his head toward the balcony. 

  A twenty meter section of the balcony was missing and the majority of the rest was 
twisted and buckled. 

  "Damn," Redics muttered.  Kitress' chances were not good.  He wondered briefly where 
Sesh and Dalthia were. 

  "Redics."  Zanth's rumble had an edge of urgency he had learned to recognize.  "The 
window." 

  The crystal window above the missing balcony had two small blurs at the edge.  As they 
watched, the blurs got bigger.  Redics knew they were seeing stress fractures clouding the 
crystal.  The fractures were growing at a steady rate, but there was no telling how long 
the window would remain in place. 

  "Dammit!" he growled.  Looking at the other windows, he realized that they were all 
covered by seals.  All but the one that was cracking.  The explosive force had damaged 
the track in which the seal rode.  The seal had closed up to the damaged area and 
snagged. 

  Someone has planned this very well, Redics thought.  "We have to find a way out," he 
said. 

  "We have to find Kitress," Zanth argued.  "He was my responsibility." 

  Redics stood.  "I know.  I don't want to leave without trying either.  But that window is 
about to go.  And I doubt..."  He looked up at the wreckage of the balcony again.  "I doubt 
we would find him alive, anyway." 

  While Redics looked around for a way out, Zephanthus considered making a run for the 
balcony.  If he could pick up the scent. no.  His nose still burned from the plastics.  
There was no way he could find Kitress quickly without a scent to trace.  He hissed in 
anger. 

  "There," Redics announced.  Zanth turned, hoping for a moment his companion had 
spotted the boy.  The human was pointing to an Yrboti kneeling by a wall.  It looked as 
though the Yrboti was opening an access panel large enough to crawl into.  Reluctantly, 
Zanth followed Redics. 

  As they approached, Redics could see that the Yrboti was having trouble getting the 
panel open.  He called out to the alien. 

  There was an unmistakable look of fear on the Yrboti's wrinkled face when he turned 
toward them.  Upon seeing what had hailed him, his expression turned to sheer terror.  
He raised his hands and sputtered something in Yrbot.  Redics stopped a few paces away 
from the frightened alien and raised his hands also.  He wished he had thought to bring a 
translator from his ship. 

  He told Zanth to sit next to him while he tried to convince the Yrboti they meant no 
mischief.  Redics pointed to the panel, to the weakening window, and to his wound.  He 
pointed to the panel again.  The alien pointed to the panel also, saying something.  Redics 
pointed again, then mimicked opening the panel.  He pointed to himself. 

  The Yrboti glanced fearfully at Zanth then.  He pointed to the tundra cat and spoke once 
more. 

  Redics frowned, impatient.  "This one?" he said aloud.  "He only bites what he eats."  
He rubbed the top of Zanth's head and told him to open his mouth. 

  "What?"  Zanth looked at Redics, perplexed. 

  "Open your mouth so we can calm this fellow down." 

  Zephanthus didn't understand, but time was running short.  He opened his mouth as 
though yawning, his pale yellow teeth a fearsome sight.  Before Zanth knew what was 
intended, Redics had stuck his right hand into his mouth.  He fought against his surprise 
and his instinct and refrained from taking Redics' hand off at the wrist. 

  "See?"  Redics gestured with his left hand at this show of trust.  He withdrew his hand, 
wiping it on his pants. 

  Zanth licked his lips and grumbled to his companion, "You need to wash your hands.  
They taste awful."  Redics ignored him and gestured at the panel again. 

  It was impossible to tell if it was Redics' display or the audible sounds the clouded 
window was making that prompted the Yrboti into acceptance.  He moved over so that 
Redics could grab the handle. 


**************************
This text is (c) 2001, Wirewolf
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