Jack watched Sam work. He had always loved the look that came over her face when she was absorbed in one of her projects. It was the kind of fascinated concentration you usually saw only in a small child studying a seashell, or a feather, or a bug crawling up a blade of grass.
Sam's profile was sharply defined, in contrast to the slightly blurred and color-drained appearance of everything around her. That was because their personal cloaks were all tuned to the same phase-shift frequency, or something like that. The matched-tuning thing enabled the team to see and hear each other with perfect clarity, even though they were invisible and inaudible to un-shifted people. Sam had explained it all using lots of technical terms that Jack couldn't remember, but he'd enjoyed listening to her say them. What was it about Sam talking techno-babble that was so damn hot?
Sam put the wand-like tool back in her belt and looked at him. "It's ready," she said.
Jack felt a rush of anticipation, almost like the eagerness for action he used to feel as a young soldier. But a second later, he was swept by a wave of terrible anxiety. He was about to risk losing Sam.
These feelings were almost immediately replaced by annoyance. What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn't afford to keep wobbling emotionally like some green recruit.
Turning to Nara, he asked, "Sure you've got their security system taken care of?"
Nara was standing near Sam, next to a thick pillar. The patch of wall behind the pillar looked just like the rest of the wall in this corridor of the Pleasant Boulevard Underground Garage, but it was actually one of the entrances to the Syndicate's Arena facility. Glancing at the holographic readout that hovered over her data-wristlet, Nara said, "I've hacked into the outer layer of the Arena's security. I can keep the people inside from being alerted when we start opening doors. But, as I told you before, I won't be able to block all their communications until we get into the control room."
"Good enough," said Jack.
Jack's eyes swept over his team. They didn't look like daring commandos about to take on a world government. They looked more like contestants in that cross-country bicycle race the French thought was so special. It was mostly because the personal cloak generators they all wore looked like fancy bicycle helmets, but their clothes fit the theme, too. All the women had sleek, black outfits with strange insignia, sort of like the logo-laden sports attire you might see on a bicycle racer. (Their outfits were actually Ashoran Defense Force uniforms, which Sam had stolen in the hope of creating useful confusion later.) But it was the men who most looked the part. They wore tight-fitting athletic clothes, including what could only be described as bicycle shorts. It was the most practical men's clothing that could be found on Ashora. Even if it did expose his knobby, surgically scarred knees.
"You all know the plan," Jack said to his team. "Lagash, Ifefal, Nara – stay alert. Be prepared to use your guns if necessary, but let me and Sam and Daniel take the lead if we get into a combat situation. Remember, if you discharge your weapon, that'll give away your position despite the cloak. So if you have to fire, move."
Jack drew his altered military-grade gun. The original, neural-implant-controlled version of the weapon had a handgrip and a bulb-tipped "barrel," but was otherwise featureless, so it looked like something created by a lazy prop designer for a low-budget science fiction movie. Sam had added manual controls to the men's guns: a trigger for shooting, and a sliding switch for selecting the operating mode. Like a zat, the gun could stun, kill, or disintegrate.
"Make sure your weapons are set to stun," said Nara.
"Nara," said Jack, his voice deceptively mild, "remember that concept we discussed earlier? Called chain of command? For all our sakes – especially yours – don't forget it again."
Nara frowned, but seemed to accept the reprimand. It was Daniel who tensed up in a way Jack didn't like. Come on, Daniel, thought Jack. Suck it up. A new girlfriend is no excuse for forgetting everything you ever learned about military discipline. Oh, wait, I almost forgot – you've never learned a thing.
Jack gave Daniel a brief, freezing stare before dismissively turning his attention back to the group. "Everybody ready?" he asked. They all nodded. He was confident that Sam really was, and he was willing to give Daniel the benefit of the doubt. However, Nara looked a bit too aggressively determined, while Lagash seemed nervous, and Ifefal was wearing a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression. He had to remember at all times that half his team had no military training whatsoever. Ready as they'll ever be, he thought.
His eyes caught Sam's. She lifted her arm and held her data-wristlet next to a certain spot on the wall for a moment. Then she nodded to him. The wall looked exactly the same as before, but he knew the holographic camouflage would have kicked in as soon as the door started opening.
Jack walked straight through the wall, and into the antechamber where the Syndicate collected money before letting in customers. As expected, it was empty. They were attacking late at night, when activity within the Arena facility would be at a minimum. Jack hoped to free the Arena slaves quickly, and move on to Government House before the day shift came in.
"All clear," Jack called.
Once everyone was in the antechamber, Sam closed the outer door. She then took out her electronic wand and began sweeping it over the walls. Nara was already doing the same. The main door into the Arena was visible, but they knew there was a second door that led to the "back stage" areas.
The walls flickered, and the outline of another door appeared. "Good work, Nara," said Sam. "That must be the one we want."
But then the walls flickered again. For a moment, three-dimensional images of naked, painted men were visible. One gleamed and sparkled in gold. And Jack noticed Daniel staring at the golden man incredulously before the images flickered out again.
"What the fuck was that?" Jack snapped, annoyed at the heat flooding into his face.
"Sorry," said Nara. "Guess I triggered the advertising display. But don't worry, I'm certain the Trainers didn't noticed anything. I'm controlling the signal traffic from this room, and I have all the cameras and monitors on a loop."
Jack's embarrassment turned to icy anger as he remembered the Arena slaves' vulnerability. Until they deactivated the men's Collars, the Trainers could kill them with a thought. "You better be right about that."
"She already told you she's certain, Jack," interjected Daniel.
Jack's gaze met Daniel's with an almost audible clash.
Sam said, "Nara's right. I'm not picking up any alerts. And I'm ready to open this door, Jack." She spoke in an especially calm tone and gave him a steady, cobalt stare.
Jack took the hint. "Okay," he said. "I'll take point. Sam, you're right behind me. Then Nara, Ifefal, and Lagash. Daniel, guard our six."
They went through the door, down some stairs, and through another door. This brought them into a wide, gently curved hallway that Jack recognized as the one encircling the lower level of the Arena. They moved quickly down the deserted hallway, and soon reached the other side of the Arena. Jack stopped and held up his fist – and then felt silly. Since their conversations were cloaked, hand signals were unnecessary. "There it is," he said, pointing to a door. "That's the entrance to the control room."
They needed to open the control room door, and then immediately stun the two Trainers inside. If the control room Trainers alerted any of the other Trainers, the Arena slaves would be dead before Jack's team could deactivate their Collars.
Sam and Nara positioned themselves on either side of the door. They pulled some high-tech gizmos out of their backpacks and set to work.
As Jack watched Sam work, he reflected that it felt strange to be here again – but not unpleasant. Because this time, he wasn't wearing a Collar. This time, he was armed. Not only with a fancy Ashoran ray gun, but also with his good old P90. It lay against his chest, it's weight reassuringly familiar, because Sam had retrieved it from the Patriarchal Technology Collection. For him. It hadn't been truly necessary, considering they had the Ashoran weapons, but Sam had surprised him with it. He smiled a little, once again touched by her thoughtfulness. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine snuggling the P90 under his chin and shooting Umala right between the eyes…
"They work well together," came Daniel's voice. "It's lucky for us that Nara decided to come."
Without looking at Daniel, Jack said, "You mean it's lucky for you. Sam's always managed the tech stuff pretty damn well on her own."
"Sam's a genius, of course. But Nara's skills at hacking into Ashoran computer systems are going to be extremely valuable."
Jack said nothing. He was still annoyed with Daniel over the whole revenge thing. Which was not a revenge thing. Not really. It was about justice, but it went beyond justice, even. It was more practical than that. Though Jack had used a sarcastic tone when he'd said it was about making the universe a better place, he'd basically meant it. Because some people were just bad. And life was hard enough without some asshole deliberately trying to make it harder. So if you could improve the picture a little by taking a few bad guys out of it – well, that was the thing to do. And taking out bad guys seemed to be his particular calling in life.
Most of the time, Jack believed that absolutely. But, sometimes, a small voice inside him raised doubts. This treasonous little voice wondered if all the violence and killing could really improve anything in the end. It whispered that maybe he'd become one of the bad guys himself. Or, if he hadn't yet, maybe he would. Maybe the next moral compromise would be the one that tipped him over to the Dark Side.
A lot of the time, Daniel sounded exactly like Jack's little voice. Which was what made Daniel so extremely annoying.
"Having both Sam and Nara on our team is going to be especially important when we get into Government House," Daniel droned on. "When we enter the Labyrinth, I mean. That's quite literally what Government House is, because the word 'labyrinth' comes from the ancient Greek myth of Theseus and the Minotaur."
"Daniel," said Jack. "Mythology? Now?"
"Why must you always discount the importance of myth?" exclaimed Daniel. Jack still refused to look at him, but in his mind's eye, he could see Daniel's face perfectly. He would be wearing that deceptively mild expression, the one he used to gull strangers into believing he was harmless. But those who knew Daniel had learned to notice the subtly maniacal glint in those blue eyes.
"The myth of Theseus and the Minotaur is absolutely pertinent to our situation," continued Daniel. Of course. When he got into obsessive mode, he was unstoppable. "The Minotaur was a monster with the body of a man and the head of a bull. King Minos, the ruler of Crete, kept the Minotaur inside a great maze called the Labyrinth. King Minos would sacrifice youths and maidens by sending them into the Labyrinth. They would become lost and wander hopelessly, unable to escape, until the Minotaur caught and ate them. But, one day, the Athenian hero Theseus went into the Labyrinth with a sword. He killed the Minotaur, and then escaped the Labyrinth using a ball of string he had been given by Ariadne, daughter of Minos. Theseus unrolled the ball on his way in, and then followed the string to get back out."
"Are you suggesting we should have packed some string?" Somehow, Jack found himself making eye contact with Daniel. "We've been over this, remember? We know how to find our way around inside Government House."
"I'm not talking about that! I'm just pointing out the connections between the myth and situation in which we find ourselves. It's a Greek myth, but it contains folk memories of the Minoan culture of Crete, which predates Greek civilization. The Minoans were the ones who taught the Greeks how to be civilized. And from archeological excavations, we know that the Minoans built sprawling, labyrinthine 'palaces,' which seem to have combined political, economic, and religious functions. The Labyrinth in the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur is believed to be a folk memory of those maze-like government buildings. And Ashora Government House is obviously a direct descendent of those same Ancient Minoan buildings. Which means that, in a very real sense, Government House is the mythical Labyrinth!"
"Okay," said Jack. "So?"
"In a certain sense, we're about to participate in one of the founding myths of Western civilization!" cried Daniel.
"So?" repeated Jack. As Daniel's face scrunched up in exasperation, Jack found himself enjoying the conversation.
"That was a very strange story," broke in Ifefal. She and Lagash had been listening to Daniel's exposition with puzzled expressions – as well they should. "Why would King Minos sacrifice youths and maidens? And how come he was a king instead of a queen?"
"And why was the Minotaur a monster?" added Lagash. "A man with the head of a bull sounds like an Initiator. For certain rituals, we wear a mask shaped like a bull's head."
"Fascinating!" cried Daniel. "As I said, Theseus and the Minotaur is a Greek myth. The Greeks undoubtedly twisted certain aspects of the earlier Minoan culture. Greek culture was very patriarchal – unlike that of the Minoans."
But it was clear Ifefal was no longer listening to Daniel. She had gasped when Lagash used the word "we" in reference to the Initiators – the virgin-deflowering male members of the Ashoran priesthood. And, to Jack's extreme irritation, Sam had looked up from her work long enough to give Lagash a significant glance.
"Lagash!" exclaimed Ifefal. "You mean you were an Initiator? You never told me!"
"I didn't want to brag," said Lagash.
"I should have guessed," simpered Ifefal.
"You know," said Jack, "back on Earth, we have this underground facility called the SGC. It has lots of corridors. People tend to get lost, so we have these colored lines on the floor to help them find their way. Painted strings, you might say. Must be another example of the importance of mythology."
Daniel narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, no doubt to launch into another useless lecture, but at that moment Sam said, "Okay. We're ready."
Thank God, thought Jack.
Stepping up to the door and drawing his gun, he said, "Sam, you take the Trainer on the right. I'll take the one on the left. Nara, open the door on my mark. Everybody ready?"
Sam drew her gun and nodded. Nara held her data-wristlet next to the wall and nodded.
"Now," said Jack.
The door slid open. Two women turned startled faces toward them, but didn't see anything, of course. From the Trainers' perspective, it would appear that the door had opened by itself.
Jack and Sam gave them no more than a split-second to wonder about it. Near-simultaneous bolts shot out from their guns, each striking one of the Trainers. The Trainers' bodies jerked as they were wreathed in blue lightning. One fell limply out of her chair, while the other slumped back into hers.
Jack was pleased to see that both Trainers belonged to Elal's Wrestling operation. The most sadistic Trainers were the ones under Umala.
They entered the control room, which was lined with electronic consoles. Above the consoles were rows of holographic "windows" that showed various parts of the Arena facility. Sam and Nara got to work on the electronics, with help from Lagash. Daniel and Ifefal removed and destroyed the Trainers' data-wristlets, and then tied them up. Jack looked through the surveillance views of the Arena facility. He saw no women in any of them. So, they could assume the rest of the Trainers were in their quarters, as expected. There was no surveillance from inside the Trainers' quarters. He studied the views of the Big Room.
"I count twelve men missing from the Big Room," Jack said, "including Buddy." He grimaced. "They'll be in the Trainers' quarters."
"Twelve?" exclaimed Daniel. "That's more than we expected. That's more than one per Trainer!"
Jack had given the impression there were normally only a few men in the Trainers' quarters at night. He hadn't wanted to give Daniel any time to consider the true logistics of the situation. "Guess the Trainers must be extra horny tonight," lied Jack. "We can handle it."
"We now have complete control of the Arena facility's computer systems," announced Nara. "I've cut off external communications."
"But that doesn't include the Trainers' personal electronics," reminded Sam. "If they have their data-wristlets, the Trainers will be able to communicate with the Collars of the men in the Big Room. And the men in their quarters arewithin range of the Trainers' bare neural implants."
"It's like we expected," said Jack. "We can't deactivate the Collars of the men in the Big Room until we take out all the Trainers, because the multiple 'death' alerts would let the Trainers know something's not right. We wouldn't be able to deactivate all the Collars fast enough to keep the Trainers from killing some of the men."
Jack had already decided Lagash was the best person to cover the control room. Though the disciplinary circuits in his Golden Collar had been deactivated, the feedback circuits were intact. That meant he could interface directly with Ashoran computer systems. The women could do that, too, but only the women could operate the Collar deactivators.
From the control room, Lagash would be able to command all the doors and security systems in the Arena facility, as well as keeping an eye on the monitors. The phase-shifted radios in their "bicycle helmets" would enable the other team members to stay in touch with him.
Jack led everyone but Lagash out of the control room, toward the Trainers' quarters. That required them to pass through the Big Room. When they opened the door, the few Arena slaves who were awake looked up with wary puzzlement. Jack was sorely tempted to decloak and let the men know they would soon be free, but it would be safer for them if he didn't. So he strode quickly down the center of the Big Room, past the black boxes on their pedestals and the cuffs sticking out of the floor. Thankfully, no men were actually on the Ropes tonight. Never again, Jack silently promised the men. You'll never have to go through that again.
They exited the Big Room through the opposite door. Jack led his group down some corridors, and through several more doors, until they reached an area that was nicely carpeted and painted instead of bare and grey. He stopped at the intersection of several hallways.
"The Fighting Trainers' quarters are on that side," said Jack, pointing to his left. "All six apartments should be occupied. The Wrestling Trainers are around that corner. Since we already snagged two of them in the control room, only two are left. Ishpia is behind the first door; Elal is three doors down."
Jack had already calculated how to divvy up assignments so as to carry out the primary mission with maximum speed and efficiency – while also serving his secondary goals. "Daniel, Nara: you take the Wrestling side. And Nara, let Daniel do the shooting. You just worry about deactivating Collars and taking care of men." Nara scowled at him.
"Ifefal, Sam," he continued, "the three of us will work together. Sam, since you're the only person who can deactivate Collars and shoot straight, you don't need a tactical partner. Start at the far end of the Fighting Trainers' quarters. Ifefal and I will start at the near end and meet you in the middle.
"Remember, it's imperative not to let any of the Trainers signal any of the others. If a Trainer realizes something's wrong, she could kill the men instantly. These rooms are soundproof, but make sure not to have more than one door open at the same time. We don't want any noise to travel. Ifefal and I will enter first, then Sam, then Daniel and Nara. Move out."
The team split up as he had directed. When Jack ordered Lagash to open the door of the first Trainer's quarters, there was only dim silence within. Jack entered the living area and quickly scoped it out before calling Ifefal to join him. He then entered the bedroom. Hetrisha was in her bed, with Red Panther beside her. They were both asleep.
Jack hit Hetrisha with a stun bolt. "Like shooting fish in a barrel," he said.
Red Panther didn't stir as the stun bolt's energy made Hetrisha's body jerk beside him. So long as Hetrisha was unconscious, his Collar would keep Red Panther unconscious as well.
"Okay," said Jack to Ifefal, "start looking for her data-wristlet." They soon found it in a bureau drawer. Jack put the device on the floor, switched his gun to disintegration mode, and shot it. It disappeared in a crackling ball of energy.
It was now safe to deactivate Red Panther's Collar. Since his Collar was under the direct control of Hetrisha's bare neural implants, no signal would reach the other Trainers when his Collar went dead.
After they decloaked, Ifefal gave Jack a somewhat nervous glance. "Go ahead," he told her, filling his voice with reassurance.
Sam had integrated a Collar deactivator into each woman's data-wristlet. Ifefal held up her forearm and studied the readout in the small, silvery plaque that was now affixed to her wristlet. After about thirty seconds, Ifefal looked at Jack and nodded.
"Red Panther," called Jack.
Red Panther awoke. When he caught sight of Jack and Ifefal, he sat up with a start. Then his eyes went to Jack's neck, and he gasped, because Jack had insisted that his Collar be removed as well as deactivated. Ifefal had performed the surgical procedure.
"That's right," said Jack. "No more Collar."
Red Panther's gaze darted fearfully toward the unconscious form of Hetrisha.
"Notice how you're awake even though she's asleep?" said Jack. "That's because we deactivated your Collar." Jack pointed to his own bare neck. "It's the same as if you weren't wearing a Collar at all. You're free."
As Jack quickly explained the rest, Red Panther continued to look stunned. He'd been an Arena slave for at least a year, so Jack realized it might take a little while for his new status to really sink in.
"We have to go on the next room now," Jack finished. "The other men won't be truly safe until we've knocked out all the Trainers, so we have to do this as quickly as possible. Stay here till we come back for you. If Hetrisha wakes up, make sure she doesn't go anywhere. Remember, you have nothing to fear from her anymore."
This was where Jack's secondary plan turned sticky. Using his officer's voice – the one that brooked no argument – he ordered Ifefal to recloak and move out. He didn't want to give her any time to think.
But as they left Hetrisha's quarters, Ifefal seemed oblivious to the possibilities. And Jack remembered what Sam had told him about the terrible history hidden in Ifefal's subconscious. In the end, this fragile-seeming young woman had turned on her brutal, murdering husband and stabbed him to death with a kitchen knife. It occurred to Jack that maybe Ifefal's subconscious was perfectly happy to leave Red Panther alone with a now-helpless Hetrisha.
In the hallway, as he and Ifefal moved toward the next door, Sam emerged from her first Trainer's quarters. Down the length of the hall, Jack felt Sam's grimly determined gaze connecting with his own. Sam had at first been hesitant about his secondary plan, but he'd persuaded her it was the right thing to do.
The operation continued to go smoothly. Everyone kept finding the Trainers asleep in their beds, which simplified things. By the time Jack and Ifefal stood in front of their third Trainer's quarters, Sam had already stunned her third Trainer. She was still searching for the data-wristlet, however. That meant Jack couldn't substitute Sam for Ifefal in the last Trainer's quarters, but he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to, anyway.
"You there, Jack?" That was Daniel's voice on the phase-shifted radio.
"Yep. Go ahead."
"We've freed the men in Elal's quarters," said Daniel. "That's all of them on our side." Daniel and Nara had begun by hitting Ishpia's quarters. Nara had baby-sat the man they found there while Daniel entered Elal's quarters and stunned her. Now, everyone was in Elal's quarters.
"Is Buddy okay?" asked Jack.
"If you mean the guy with the bronze paint, yeah, he's fine. It's the other guy that's annoying the hell out of us. He's actually complaining about our intrusion."
"That'd be Sweet Ass," said Jack. "Leave him tied up in Elal's rooms along with Elal and Ishpia. Take everybody else down to the Big Room."
"Wouldn't it be better if…"
"No, Daniel. I want you and Nara to be standing by in the Big Room. We've only got one Trainer to go. As soon as we get her, I'll signal you so Nara can start deactivating Collars in the Big Room. Got it?"
"Okay, Jack," said Daniel.
Jack was pleased. His secondary plan was working better than expected. He'd thought that even if Ifefal didn't question his handling of the freed men, Lagash would. Lagash couldn't see into the Trainers' quarters, but he could see the hallway. However, Lagash hadn't said a word. Maybe he was being a good little Son of Ashora and following Ifefal's lead.
Jack returned his attention to the door of the last Trainer's quarters. He told himself it was just another mission. Just another job that needed doing.
But when they opened the door, cries of agony flew out at them. Clearly, Umala was awake.
Ifefal looked at him, her child-like face full of distress. "It's okay," Jack told her. "We're about to put a stop to that." After they entered, Jack told Ifefal to wait in the living room. He had a pretty good idea what would be going on in the bedroom, and he wanted to spare her.
Jack thought he was ready. He had shoved his emotions deep into his mental basement. He had slipped into that cold, focused state of mind that he thought of as "combat mode." Over the years, it had become second nature to him. But when he entered the bedroom and saw Umala, his inner barriers wavered.
There were three men in the room with her: Bruiser, Squealer, and the man Jack still thought of as the Warrior Guy (though Umala had named him Big Dog). The Warrior Guy was tied down on Umala's bed, with Umala on top of him. He was crying out in agony, because Umala was using the Collar to turn sex into a form of torture. Bruiser and Squealer knelt on either side of Umala, adding their caresses to her sick pleasure.
Jack was glad that Umala was facing away from him, so he didn't have to see her look of ecstasy. Even the sight of her gelatinously heaving back was almost enough to make him puke. Fevered waves of hot and cold swept through his body as he choked down his bile.
He became angry that she was getting to him, and that was it. As soon as he let himself feel any anger at all, it took over. It swelled into a towering rage that filled his entire consciousness. He literally saw red. Jack raised his gun and shot Umala.
But the sight of her body being struck by blue energy brought only a small measure of satisfaction. It wasn't nearly enough. When Umala slumped backward, her hated face upturned before him, he stepped forward and grabbed her plaited hair. In a burst of berserker strength, he pulled her enormous bulk off the bed without even feeling the effort.
Jack raised the gun over his head in a clenched fist. He had forgotten it was a gun. It was just something to hit with. But before he brought it down on Umala's face, he noticed that her eyelids were fluttering.
Sanity returned in a cold rush. Umala was already coming to, and Jack realized it was because of the pain he had inflicted when he dragged her by her hair. He could see blood seeping from her scalp. He quickly shot her again.
Then he went over to the men on the bed, whose Collars had forced them into unconsciousness as soon as he knocked out Umala. He checked Squealer and the Warrior Guy, shuddering with relief when he found their pulses. One command from Umala's neural implants could have killed them instantly. His loss of control could have cost them their lives.
Jack struggled to pull himself together. He couldn't allow that to happen again. It was absolutely essential that he never allow personal emotion to interfere with life-and-death decisions.
Even happiness couldn't be trusted. After all, wasn't that how Charlie had died? He'd been so lost in happy anticipation as he prepared for the family camping trip. That was what had made him careless. That, and the fact he was too goddamn comfortable around guns.
Guns and pain and death. That's what I'm all about.
Jack's body tensed as the dreaded memories rushed over him. That eternal second when the gunshot rang out, and he realized what he'd done. The trifling weight of Charlie's body in his arms, the heat of Charlie's blood soaking into his clothes. The terrible moment when he'd known that he'd never again see his son's eyes sparkle as they played ball together. Or hear him laugh. Or hear him cry. All of it gone forever. Nothing left.
Jack found himself choking back a sob. He clapped his fists against his forehead, still gripping the Ashoran gun. No, he commanded himself. You are not going to lose it.
With a supreme effort of will, he once again shoved his emotions down to the bottom of his mind. He visualized the great trap door in his head, making it as thick and strong as the enormous door that was supposed to protect Cheyenne Mountain from nuclear attack. He saw and felt the door falling shut with a resounding, air-tight thud, and imagined himself turning the wheel to lock it.
With considerable relief, Jack felt himself regaining his equilibrium. His inner barriers had not been permanently breached. Thank you, God, he thought.
Jack waited until he believed he was back in combat mode. Then he called Daniel on the phase-shifted radio and told him it was safe to start deactivating the Collars of the men in the Big Room. After that, he called Ifefal into the room. They found Umala's data-wristlet and destroyed it. Then they decloaked, and Ifefal used her Collar deactivator.
"Wake up," called Jack.
The Warrior Guy stirred against his bonds, but didn't quite come to. Jack figured he might be partially stunned, since Umala had been on top of him when Jack shot her. Squealer seemed dazed, but that was normal for him. Bruiser sat up and looked confused – until he saw Jack. Then he looked alarmed.
That look of alarm was frozen forever when Jack shot Bruiser neatly between the eyes with his P90. Perhaps it was indulgent to use his P90 instead of his high-tech Ashoran weapon, but it felt just right. No ray gun could match the simple, satisfying violence of a bullet impacting human flesh at 3000 feet per second.
Squealer's body jerked at the sound of the gunshot, as if he'd been shot, too. The fear that was always in his eyes intensified to terror. He began to tremble.
"It's okay, Squealer," said Jack, using a soft, calming tone. "Everything's going to be okay from now on."
Ifefal was gasping in shock. "But," she sputtered, "you said you'd only kill in self-defense. You promised…"
"I promised not to kill any women except in self-defense," said Jack. "Can I help it if when I said 'women,' you Ashorans heard 'people'?"
But Jack's attention was really on Squealer. He was slowly approaching the brain-damaged man. When he reached Squealer, he gently put a hand on the man's shoulder. Then he stood quietly, gazing into Squealer's eyes. Gradually, the panic drained from Squealer's face and body.
"But," said Ifefal weakly, "you didn't have to kill him."
Jack looked at her. "Yes, I did. He was a very bad man. He was the kind of man who would have caused nothing but pain as long as he lived. Can you understand that?"
Something flickered in Ifefal's eyes. She suddenly seemed calmer. Jack realized that her subconscious understood perfectly.
Jack moved to the other side of the bed. With an efficient yank, he pulled Bruiser's huge corpse out of the way. It slid against the wall before hitting the floor, added a trail of blood and brain to the patch of gore that was already spattered behind the bed. That kind of head shot might leave a small, neat entrance wound, but the exit wound was another story. Basically, the back of Bruiser's head was gone.
"See?" said Jack to Squealer. "Bruiser's dead. Very dead. He'll never hurt you again."
Ifefal made a gagging sound. Jack looked toward her to find that her delicate features where white, her eyes huge and unfocused.
"Sorry," he told her gently. "Why don't you go into the kitchen? Wash your face, get yourself a drink of water if you like. I'll finish up in here."
After Ifefal left the room, the Warrior Guy finally came around. As Jack untied him from Umala's bed, he explained the situation. He noticed that Squealer was listening, too, and wondered how much the brain-damaged man understood.
When the Warrior Guy was free of his bonds, he sat up shakily and touched his Collar. "Is this truly dead?" he whispered.
"As dead as Bruiser," said Jack. "That Collar is just jewelry now. It's as if you weren't wearing one at all." Jack touched his own bare neck.
True understanding began to dawn in the big man's eyes. He looked toward Umala.
"She's not dead," Jack told him, "just stunned. And I need to go do some things right now. Can you take care of Squealer while I'm gone?"
"Yes," said the Warrior Guy.
"Can you take care of Umala, too?"
The Warrior Guy didn't answer. His gaze went back to Umala's unconscious body, and stayed there.
"Like I said, I'll be back soon." Jack left the bedroom, and closed the door behind him.
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