There wasn’t much to do while sitting around the campfire other than talk, so it was an opportunity for Cato to learn more about his traveling companions. It turned out that Phelonious had been the property of a retired roboticist, who having acquired three A-7276 carcasses, combined the parts to create a fourth machine, albeit without many of the built-in software restrictions that Imperial law insisted on. That explained why Phelonious was free to make his own decisions, cheat people out of their money, and generally behave the way Umans did.

  Life was good at first, but all things must come to an end, as was the case when a financial setback forced the roboticist to sell Phelonious, who immediately ran away from his new owner. And it wasn’t long thereafter when the android fell in with bad company, which was to say Perat Belok, a Kelf who fled his clan rather than accede to an arranged marriage. “You should have seen her,” Belok said, his eyes glittering with reflected firelight. “She was uglier than Phelonious, too damned tall, and dumb as a rock! No wonder the bride price was so low! If the deal had gone through, my parents would have been able to save a lot of money. Damn them to hell.”

  The temperature fell to well below freezing during the night, but that didn’t matter to Phelonious, who could increase his temperature by simply “thinking” about it, or the Kelf, who was equipped with a thick layer of fur and a miniature sleeping bag.

  Phelonious didn’t need to sleep, so he volunteered to stay up all night, just in case someone tried to sneak up on the campsite. That was comforting, but Cato found it difficult to get much rest even with a sentry, and felt grateful when the sun finally rose.

  The policeman had seen the con artists as little more than deadweight until then, but thanks to the fire Phelonious had built, and the breakfast that Belok produced, Cato was feeling better about the strange twosome by the time the three of them hit the trail.

  With the heavily laden robot walking ahead, Cato shouldered Belok, and carried the new rifle at port arms as he followed the path upward. And the strange thing was that the skeletal sniper’s rifle wasn’t just new to him, it was brand-new , meaning just out of the box. Judging from the way the weapon was set up, it had originally been intended for use by one of the Emperor’s Legions or a planetary militia. Perhaps Dantha’s militia. Which raised the question as to why such a weapon would be available in Donk’s Well. It was a question that would have been worth investigating had there been more time.

  In any case, the rifle was light, powerful, and capable of hitting targets up to a thousand yards away, all of which made it a lot more useful in mountainous terrain than the shotgun would have been. Unless they were ambushed—when a good close-quarters weapon would be ideal. But there was only so much weight Cato could carry, and having no desire to arm his companions, he was limited to one long gun.

  The morning wore on, and the trail grew steeper as they left the last of the foothills behind and found themselves on a raw trail that switched back and forth along the west flank of an enormous mountain. The people down in Donk’s Well referred to it as The Tooth because of its triangular shape. The Lir called it something that Cato was unable to pronounce.

  And that was good, because according to the information Issit had given him, the lofty aerie called High Hold Meor was located about halfway to the top. That was the home of clan leader Hybor Iddyn, as well as senior warriors Pak Nassali, and Etir Lood. All were Lir bandits who not only took part in the attack on Station 3, but had engineered it on behalf of someone in Solace, a person or persons Cato was determined to bring to justice. Or, failing that, to execute on his own. Because one way or another, someone was going to pay.

  The threesome paused around noontime so that Cato and Belok could eat a cold lunch before pressing on. The people who had been ahead of them the day before were still ahead of them, as evidenced by fresh angen dung and tracks in the snow. Phelonious claimed that the party included three Lir, leading six angens, but Cato had no way to know if that analysis was correct.

  Cato was worried, though, because it would be easy to unknowingly overtake the caravan, and wind up on the losing end of a firefight. So he suggested that Phelonious scout ahead in hopes that the robot would be able to detect trouble before he walked into it.

  The android agreed, and that left Cato to carry the supplies, while Belok scampered along behind. Climbing the steep trail was hard work, made even harder by a biting wind, and snow that grew ever deeper the higher they went. So it was something of a relief when Cato rounded a bend to find Phelonious waiting for him. It was late afternoon by that time—and the light had begun to fade. “They’re camped up ahead,” Phelonious announced, “and I was correct. There are three of them.”

  “Lir warriors?”

  Phelonious nodded. “They’re armed with assault rifles.”

  Cato swore. “Damn! We can’t get past them. Not without being seen.”

  Belok had arrived by then and looked from face to face. “Why don’t I go up and have a little chat with them? Then, while they’re talking to me, you can get into position. Once you’re ready, you can call on them to surrender. I’ll collect their weapons, and you can take them into custody, it’s as simple as that.”

  Cato didn’t want the Lir to surrender but couldn’t say that, so he nodded, even though the prospect of being forced to cope with three Lir prisoners was extremely daunting. “That sounds like a good idea,” Cato allowed cautiously, “unless they start shooting. What then?”

  “I’m pretty good at making myself scarce,” the Kelf replied confidently. “But if it comes to that, don’t miss. The metal man and I would be in a lot of trouble.”

  “The fur ball is correct,” Phelonious agreed soberly. “The Lir would kill us—and it would be your fault!”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Cato said dryly. “All right, let’s stash the pack, and get up there before the light disappears.”

  Having hidden the pack in a jumble of snowcapped boulders, Cato followed Phelonious up the slippery slope that bordered the trail in an attempt to flank the Lir and gain a height advantage at the same time. In the meantime, Belok had instructions to wait a full ten minutes before starting up the trail, since, even though his legs were short, the Kelf was likely to make much better time than Cato and Phelonious would. And, were Belok to arrive too early, there was the distinct possibility that the Lir might kill him before help could arrive.

  So Cato felt a sense of urgency as icy scree slid away from his boots and clattered toward the trail below. Though he was not designed for the task at hand, it quickly became apparent that Phelonious was quite agile. The android’s servos whined loudly as he battled his way upward, using sturdy shrubs for handholds. The climb took time, and as they worked their way up the slope, Cato realized that a fifteen-minute head start would have been better. But it was too late for that now, so all he could do was concentrate on his footing, and use such handholds as there were.

  Finally, having attained a ledge that would allow them to proceed in parallel to the trail below, the twosome was able to make better time. It was necessary to thread their way between shoulder-high evergreens that opened up like inverted umbrellas when the sun rose and closed into vertical shrubs when the temperature fell. The transformation had already begun by that time.

  The ledge nearly petered out at the point where the mountain bulged outward. But by slinging his rifle over one shoulder, and choosing his handholds with care, Cato managed to follow Phelonious out and around the obstruction. If the android was experiencing something akin to fear, there were no signs of it, but since the empath couldn’t “read” machines there was no way to know what was going on inside Phelonious.

  Cato’s right boot slipped while he was edging his way around the bulge. That forced him to shift his weight to the other foot as a dozen pebbles rattled away. What could have been a fatal fall was averted as Cato clung to the cliff face and focused all of his attention on selecting good handholds.

  After they skirted the bulge, the ledge reappeared, and that allowed the twosome to make better time as a column of telltale smoke rose to merge with the sky ahead. By looking down, Cato could see a section of the trail, but there was no sign of Belok, which suggested that the Kelf had passed them by. That theory was confirmed moments later, when Cato and Phelonious arrived above the Lir campsite.

  The shaggy pack angens had been unloaded by then and herded into a rustic corral, where they would spend the night. The fire, which was centered inside a ring of already-blackened rocks, was crackling cheerfully, and as Cato peered over the edge, he could see Belok standing about three feet away from it, talking to a contingent of three Lir warriors. It was impossible to hear any of the conversation, but Cato knew Belok was never at a loss for words, and could be counted upon to keep the bandits entertained for at least five minutes. But how long had Belok been there? And how much of that time remained?

  There was no way to know as Cato brought the rifle around, worked a cartridge into the chamber, and was just about to call down to the group when Belok attempted to bolt. In spite of the claim made earlier, the Kelf wasn’t quick enough. A Lir warrior pounced on Belok by the scruff of the neck and hoisted him off the ground, as a second bandit drew a ceramic knife. “They’re going to kill him!” Phelonious exclaimed unnecessarily. “Do something!”

  Cato already had the rifle in position by then and was staring into the telescopic sight as Belok’s feet kicked uselessly two feet off the ground. Then, as the crosshairs came to rest on the Lir’s temple, the trigger gave, and a sharp cracking sound was heard.

  The bullet blew half of the warrior’s head away, Belok was drenched in gore as he hit the ground, and the echoes from the first shot were still being heard as Cato fired again. The Lir who had the knife staggered as a slug punched its way through his torso. He took two hesitant steps, and went beak down in the snow, as Phelonious shouted a warning. “Watch out! The third warrior is getting away!”

  Cato looked up and saw that the android was correct. Having seen both of his companions gunned down, the third Lir had jettisoned his heavy assault rifle and taken to the air. The sole surviving warrior’s widespread wings made a characteristic whuf, whuf, whuf as he fought for additional altitude.

  Cato swung the rifle to the right, waited for the Lir to fill the scope, and applied the correct amount of pressure to the trigger. There was a loud crack as the butt thumped his shoulder, followed by an accusation from Phelonious. “You missed!” the robot complained loudly. “Don’t let him escape. He’ll bring the entire clan down on us!”

  Phelonious was right. Should the warrior manage to get away and reach High Hold Meor, he would bring the clan down on them. And there was absolutely no doubt as to how that conflict would end. Still, Cato wasn’t especially pleased with the robot’s tone, which was clear when he spoke. “Shut the hell up, and stand in front of me,” Cato ordered. “Or I’ll shoot you! And believe me—I won’t miss.”

  Phelonious did as he was told, which allowed Cato to rest the rifle on the android’s left shoulder, and crouch behind him as the barrel tilted upward. The Lir had gained quite a bit of altitude by then, at least a hundred feet, but was still within range.

  The light was fading, however, the warrior was hard to see against the gray sky, and there was no way to calculate wind speed. Still, Cato was pretty sure that the cold mountain breeze was blowing right to left. So, having made allowance for that, Cato aimed at a spot a few feet in front of the fugitive and fired.

  The Lir seemed to pause, as if to take a rest, before spiraling down into the forest below. There was a momentary explosion of snow as the warrior hit a treetop, followed by what sounded like a pistol shot as a branch broke, and a soft thump when the limp body hit the ground. Three lives had been taken, and three lives had been spared, which, insofar as the majestic mountains were concerned, mattered not at all.

  EIGHT

  The city of Solace, on the planet Dantha

  IT WAS NEARLY MIDNIGHT, SO THE SLAVES WHO worked the day shift were in bed, and that included Alamy. There were twenty beds in the long, narrow dormitory, each having a thin mattress, two sheets, and a single blanket. A wooden footlocker was located at the end of each bed and used to store personal belongings. Not that Alamy had any belongings other than the items issued to her in the palace.

  What little light there was emanated from the shared bathrooms that bracketed the main entrance, but having lain awake for more than an hour, Alamy knew they were empty. And that was important if she was to slip out of bed and exit the dormitory undetected. That would result in twenty-five lashes if she was caught because Hingo didn’t want to have off-duty slaves wandering around the palace at all hours of the day and night.

  But dangerous though such an enterprise might be, Alamy couldn’t resist the pull of the seldom-used library, and the vast amount of material that could be accessed from there. By sitting down at one of four terminals, she could call up millions of books, videos, and the latest news summaries from Corin. Though weeks old by the time they arrived on Dantha, they were a source of fascination to a young woman who knew there were hundreds of Uman-settled planets but had never been to one.

  So rather than sleep, as she knew she should, Alamy had been sneaking out every third or fourth night to surreptitiously visit the library and plunder the treasures available there. The first step was to slip out of bed, push her pillow down under the covers, and grab the clothes that were waiting on top of her footlocker.

  Then, with the clothing tucked under one arm, it was time to make her way down the center aisle to the bathroom on the right. That was where she slipped into both her uniform and a pair of sandals so that if one of the guards caught a glimpse of her on a security camera he would assume she was working nights. Unless he checked the duty roster—when he would discover otherwise.

  But if everything went as it had on past occasions, Alamy wouldn’t be spotted. The need to be stealthy was very much on Alamy’s mind as she left the bathroom and paused to consider her route before entering the hallway. By taking the back stairs up to the first floor, and walking a short distance down the hall, it was possible to open a small, unobtrusive door and slip inside a service room.

  Then, by entering instructions into a touch screen, she could summon a food cart, hop aboard, and ride it up to the fourth-floor library which didn’t get much use. Confident that the route was clear in her mind, and not having heard anything unusual, Alamy slipped out into the hallway. But as Alamy hurried toward the back stairs, she heard a distant shout, followed by the quick slap, slap, slap that bare feet made as they hit the marble flooring. Someone was not only running Alamy’s way but would spot her the moment they turned the corner unless she could find a place to hide!

  So the young woman slipped into one of the alcoves that lined the hall. It was tight but there was just enough room for someone small to crouch behind a likeness of a five-foot-tall Esselon Dire Beast. The statue wasn’t large enough to conceal all of her body, but the stylized animal threw a dark shadow against the back wall, and that would have to do.

  As Alamy peered out from behind the Dire Beast, she was perfectly positioned to see a half-naked slave dash past, her features contorted with fear, as a couple of guards pounded after her. Then the woman vanished from sight, but Alamy heard a distant thump as the fugitive was thrown to the floor, followed by a harsh male voice. “Stupid bitch! Grab an arm, Darius. . . . She won’t get away again.”

  “I’ll put some stripes on your back if she does,” Hingo said ominously, as he passed through Alamy’s field of vision. “I don’t have all night. . . . Let’s get on with it.”

  The woman, whom Alamy had recognized as a slave named Lea, sobbed loudly as the men hauled her away. Shocked by what she’d seen, and no longer interested in visiting the library, Alamy waited to make sure the group was truly gone before returning to the dormitory. Once there, she removed her uniform and slipped into bed.

  It took the better part of an hour to get to sleep, and once she did, the slave found herself trapped in a series of vivid nightmares. The worst of which found her staring into Hingo’s soulless face as his eyes raped her, and his bare knuckles caressed her cheek.

  Near High Hold Meor, on the planet Dantha

  Big snowflakes were falling, and had been for hours, as a pair of hooded figures led a string of six shaggy angens around a blind curve, and onto the flawless carpet of white that marked the trail’s end. It was as far as the party could go without venturing out onto the rope bridge beyond. And given the fact that the other end of the span was invisible, thanks to the swirling snow, Cato thought it was safe to pause for a few minutes before tackling what would almost certainly be the most dangerous phase of the trip. For even though visibility was poor, he could see the vague outlines of the jagged peak beyond, and the keep that crowned the top of it. That, according to information extracted from Issit, was where Cato would find the Lir Chieftain he was after.

  Belok, who was riding in one of the large saddlebags that the lead angen carried, stood, thereby exposing his head and shoulders to the elements. “Brrr!” the Kelf said cheerfully. “It’s cold out here!”

  Even though Cato was wearing a mountain parka, matching pants, and heavy-duty boots with a Lir robe thrown on top of that, he was still cold. So the thickly furred Kelf wasn’t going to get any sympathy from him. “It is a bit chilly,” Cato admitted, “and the snow makes it difficult to see. Are you ready?”

  Having killed three Lir warriors and appropriated their angens and weapons, Cato and his companions were well armed. Belok wasn’t big enough to handle a Uman-made assault rifle, but the energy pistols that the Lir typically carried as sidearms were small enough to wrap his fingers around, and he had three of them. One for each hand plus a backup that protruded from the back of his leather britches.