Chapter 32: Found and Found Out

"Thunder Bandit, what are you doing?"

Enough time had passed that Little Cato's personal babysitter had gotten bored and wandered off to talk with the other guards. Pressed against the bars of the cage door, Gary never paused in fiddling with the nearest lock. It was just barely in his line of sight. "Trying to figure out the combination. These guys strike me of being a few Brady's short of a bunch, so I'm betting all the cages have the same combo. I just have to figure it out. That way, we'll be halfway out."

Little Cato let out a huff of exasperated affection. "It's an eight-cycle lock! You still need the key."

Another wink. "I know. One step at a time, kiddo." He glowered at the combination lock, one of four set in a row on the door of the cage. They weren't far removed from tumbler locks, simple but effective and something Gary was very familiar with cracking from his ill-spent youth. The settings on them were in Galactic Standard, but the combination of five symbols was proving to be remarkably stubborn. "I can't believe I actually wish KVN was here to cut the bars. Don't repeat that. Ever. Please tell me your old man included jail breaks in your education."

A dour expression was answer enough. "If he did, I'm not consciously aware of it."

"He and I are gonna have a talk when I get back," Gary said, only half-joking. "I mean, prime opportu-"

"Eight, trex, alphatron, nine, one, two , three, and kirp," grumbled an impatient voice on the far side of Little Cato. They looked over in astonishment at the cranky and non-descript whisp of an alien sitting in the next cage. Gary didn't recognize the species, but it seemed to have the same emotional range as most beings, though perhaps a bit heavier on the doom and gloom end of the spectrum. He gave them a sour look, as if they were wasting his time with their plans. "Just use the sequence in order, it doesn't matter which lock."

"Really?" asked Little Cato. He blinked, completely taken aback. Nothing ever came this easily for them.

The alien made a noise of disgust. "Oh, no, because lying to you about something everyone here already knows benefits me greatly. Some of us have been here a while, child. We know things."

The sarcasm he emitted was thicker than the stench. Nonetheless, Gary tried the combination and had the immense satisfaction of seeing the light built into the electronic mechanism turn on, followed by a barely-audible click. "Uh, thanks?" said Gary.

Gratitude generated a sneer. "You won't get out. No one ever-"

"One of the slaves escaped!"

The cry echoed through the warehouse, momentarily silencing the constant murmur of the captives. Alarms sounded, feet pounded, slavers swarmed between the rows of cages, and the cranky alien rolled his three eyes in disgust, muttering, "Fine. Prove me wrong, cosmos. You, and my ex-waifu. What else is new?"

There followed a hasty meeting of slave dealers in the far corner. Gary would have liked to imagine their combined IQ might light a match, but since he was here in a cage and they were the ones in control, it was evident who on the scene had more working brain cells. Admittedly, these geniuses had kidnapped the son of the most feared and renowned warlord who ever lived, but they didn't know that. Yet.

"Spider Cat! Recon!"

Little Cato cocked his head, his ears angled sharply forward as he eavesdropped.

"A Foog escaped. Old. Bad vision. Whiney. Not worth much, but they have to have every cell filled or someone named Saa will sell them instead."

"A Foog?" groaned the miserable alien. "Arrgh! He wanted me to help him. Of course I said no and of course his plan worked." He banged his head against the cage. "Of course, because it's me and the cosmos hates-"

"Quiet!" snapped Little Cato, straining to hear. "They figure it happened when I tried to get out." He paused to grin at Gary. "I stirred up a fuss."

"That's my boy." Gary blinked. "They only noticed now?"

"He was remarkably unremarkable, that one," bitched their fellow prisoner, clearly jealous. "And the same color as the floor."

Abruptly a whole new layer of tension was added when door slammed open and six-plus feet of enraged Kormidorn thundered into the large storeroom, his rage silencing all voices. Gary recognized him from the video in the docking bay and had to agree with Avocato's assessment - powerful to the max and very dislikeable. He could only hope this one was the act first, think second type. Hot on his heels was the Delgan, his hair in lanky braids that were hung with beads and trinkets, and his dusky skin showing a weird undertone of blue.

"Korg," whispered Little Cato. "The leader."

"What the beag is going on?" bellowed Korg. "Where is that lazy wad Shunk? Who got out?"

"Uh, one of the slaves, Korg," stammered a rat-faced minion. "He - he escaped. We think when the Ventrexian tried to run."

"Which one?" demanded the Kormidorn impatiently, seizing the brave idiot that broke the news. He growled, displaying two rows of supremely revolting brown teeth visible even at a distance.

"The- the old Foog. The one you said was only good for fodder in the death pits. But we caught a primey! Got a bionic arm, but he'll still fetch a better price than the Foog. He was following Droke in the market. So . . . we're not really down one?" he reasoned, terrified of his boss' wrath.

"Where's Shunk?"

Anxious glances were exchanged all around. The spokesrat ventured, "He was standing sentry duty, like you ordered."

"He ain't there now. We just got back and the street was empty. Find him!" Korg's one eye narrowed as half a dozen of his men went scrambling away through a side door, fighting for the chance to escape his wrath. "Where's this primey?"

"We stuck him by the Ventrexian."

"Red alert, kiddo," whispered Gary, scrambling the symbols on the lock before anyone noticed it wasn't secure.

Promised Little Cato, "Never saw you before in my life, Thunder Bandit."

Gary stood in his cage, his hair brushing the top of the small cell as he faced Korg. Close up, the Kormidorn was even uglier than Gary's worst imaginings. Like, Dartrichio-is-a-goddess-of-beauty-by-comparison ugly, one big eye and rotten teeth and that lovely lavender skin. The Delgan, an utter creeper, looked Gary over like he was about to ask how much he charged for a night.

"Followin' Droke?" mused Korg, studying Gary critically. "Was he alone?"

"Naa," said Rat Face. "Had some green blob with him. 'Bout yea big. Floated around. It got away, bu-"

"Green blob?" exclaimed Korg. "He's off the lightrunner we got the Ventrxian from!"

So much for plausible deniability, but it was a great relief to know Mooncake hadn't been caught. Of course, an anxious planet killer was high on the universe's list of things to avoid, so . . .

Gary's thoughts were scattered when a beefy arm reached through the metal bars and seized him by the robotic arm, reeling him in with one hard jerk so he was nose-to-noses with Korg. Gary wasn't ready for that particular closeup, but he looked the Kormidorn square in the eye and let his temper shine through. Korg slobbered and spat, "Who you hiding on that ship, primey?"

God, he hated that term for humans. Only one person was allowed to say bonk about humans, and Gary had married him.

"Your mother," was the glib reply. It was truly the only universal insult, and it worked every time. Gary, of course, was immune and inclined to agree with anyone who wanted to drag his mom.

"I'll make you sorry for that," swore Korg, twitching his arm and slamming Gary bodily against the bars, "after you tell me who's on that ship. Who you hiding?"

"Trust me," Gary replied, knowing better, "you don't want to know."

With an angry growl, Korg shoved him back and away with enough force that Gary stumbled two steps to the rear of the small pen. He only kept from falling by seizing the cage's bars.

"I want a guard right here, all the time!" bellowed Korg, pointing at a spot on the floor right in front of the cages holding Gary and Little Cato. "If someone ain't here, someone's gonna die or take the Foog's place. The primey and Ventrexian are both going to Saa! We're getting on that lightrunner and we're going to -"

Screams rang out from an adjoining room, startling even Korg as the sound of, well, a slaughter reached whatever passed as ears for this crew. Strangely, there was no sound of gunfire, just grunts and cut-off screams and the chaos of panic as if the battle happened so swiftly they never had a chance to draw their guns. Then . . .

Silence.

It was even worse than the slaughter.

Slaves and slavers alike were stunned, all of them gaping at the door in shock. The notion that anyone would attack them here, in their own den, rendered the slave dealers speechless. Knowing this was their cue, Gary caught his son's eye and pointed to the locks on Little Cato's cage, mouthing "Now," while all the slavers were focused on the disturbance in the next room. A disturbance that was clearly headed in their direction. Little Cato got to work, whispering the combination to himself as he moved from lock to lock.

The door slammed open and one of the four slavers who had scrambled out to look for the erstwhile sentry came literally flying back into the warehouse. It landed in a smear of brownish blood and guts and with a sickening crunch as broken bones broke further, rolling to a halt a good twenty feet from the door. Gary felt a weird wave of nausea and pride hit him at the sight of someone having been dismantled even as he resisted the urge to cheer. He knew of just one person who would kill someone so thoroughly and with so little hesitation.

"What . . . the . . . beag," breathed the Delgan, horrified.

"Told ya, you don't want to know," Gary didn't resist saying.