Ryan shook his head, waving smoke out of his eye. “We won’t be using this again in a hurry,” he said grimly.
J.B. nodded solemnly. He left the anteroom and peered around the control room before spying the fire extinguishers. He strode over to them and reached for the boxy cabinet that clung to the wall above them, removing the fire blanket that was strapped there. The fire blanket had waited a century for someone to use it, and it smelled of mildew.
The Armorer strode back to the mat-trans and shook the blanket, throwing it across the flaming scar of the explosive, his feet tramping in the shattered armaglass. “Could be our only way out,” he reminded Ryan as they watched the blanket smother the flames. “Best do what we can to contain the damage.”
Ryan eyed the damaged floor tiles and the missing armaglass with concern. “You think this is repairable?”
“If it has to be,” J.B. told him. “Mebbe it won’t come to that.”
They waited a moment for the flames to stop burning and watched the smoke ease to a wispy trail in the air like a squirrel’s tail.
Ryan watched the smoke dissipate, voicing the question that neither of them could answer. “Who did this and why?”
J.B. just shook his head. “For now, I guess we should be grateful we didn’t arrive three minutes after we did,” he said dourly.
* * *
ONTHESLOPEoutside the redoubt, the white-clad women stepped away from the figure they had surrounded and Jak saw that the man was dead. His neck had been snapped and his head was poised at an awkward angle as he lay on the dirt, his eyes wide-open and staring into nothingness.
As one, the women turned at a noise. Jak heard it, too. It was coming from the redoubt.
Still in his hiding place, Jak saw Krysty and Doc emerging through the doors, their blasters held loosely in their hands. Krysty looked more able to stand on her own now, which was something.
As they stepped out onto the path, the women in the white robes moved through the trees toward them. Jak stepped out from cover, holding his blaster loosely, pointed straight up to the sky. “Wait,” he said. “Mean no harm.”
The women stopped, their white robes fluttering around them as they caught the breeze.
“Who are you?” the closest woman demanded. She had blond hair so pale it was almost white, and her eyes were a luminous green.
“Jak Lauren,” Jak said before indicating the redoubt entrance with an incline of his head. “Friends. Not hurting.”
Behind the blonde, another woman, this one with dark skin like Mildred’s, smiled tentatively as she spoke. “He speaks like a child,” she said. “It’s sweet.”
“His blaster isn’t sweet,” the blonde replied, her emerald eyes fixed on the weapon in Jak’s hand.
Jak took his cue and, holding out his empty hand in a placating gesture, he lowered himself to place his Colt Python on the ground. Jak didn’t like being weaponless—well, he was hardly that, as every sleeve and pocket contained a leaf-bladed throwing knife, though these strangers were not to know that—but he saw the necessity to act peaceably while the lives of his friends were at stake.
“Jak?” Doc’s voice carried up the slope. “Where are you, lad?”
The blonde fixed Jak with a look. “You had better reply, Jak,” she said. “Tell them to put down their blasters if, truly, they and you mean us no harm.”
Jak did just that, raising his voice and explaining the situation in his clipped manner. “Put away blasters, no danger,” he called back to Doc. “Five new friends here.” He was careful to state the number, so that Doc and Krysty would know how many they faced should it come to a firefight.
Down by the redoubt entrance, Doc and Krysty reluctantly placed their blasters in their holsters. The white-robed women watched, and the blonde—their leader? Jak wondered—nodded agreeably.
“Now,” said the blonde, “tell them to wait there.”
Jak did, and a few seconds later he was being led by the group back to the redoubt entrance.
“Well, well,” Doc said, appreciably eyeing the long-limbed beauties who accompanied Jak. “I see you have made some charming new acquaintances.”
Then Doc bent at the waist in a slight bow. “My name is Dr. Theophilus Tanner,” he introduced himself, “and my companion here is Krysty Wroth. You’ve already met young Jak here.” Doc made no mention of their other companions, still inside the redoubt. It didn’t do to reveal all your cards too early in the game.
“Doctor,” the blond spokeswoman said, the hint of a smile crossing her thin lips. “This is private territory. Would you care to explain how you came to be here?”
Doc fingered the handle of his sword cane for a moment as he thought. “We...um...arrived via a miraculous machine.”
“The mat-trans,” a brunette said from the back of the group. “You worked it?”
Krysty gasped at her casual comment.
Doc had not intended to be quite so transparent in his explanation, but caught unawares all he could do was reply truthfully. “Yes, the mat-trans,” he said. “We ran into a spot of bother out—” he gestured vaguely “—yonder and made the jump here, wherever here is. I am afraid it was all rather rushed.”
The women stepped forward, concern on their features. “And how is the mat-trans?” the dark-skinned woman asked.
“They survived the jump,” the brunette pointed out before Doc could reply. “Obviously, it’s operational.”
“Ah, no,” Doc replied before the women could continue. “There was an explosive device inside the unit that...”
“Exploded,” Krysty suggested, seeing Doc struggling.
“Quite, yes,” Doc acknowledged.
“William placed a bomb?” the honey-haired woman said in alarm.
“Deirdre thought as much,” the blonde confirmed before turning back to Doc.
Jak listened to all of this in silence, piecing together the story in his mind. William was the man he had come across in the woods, who had engaged in the firefight with these mysterious women before being chilled by them. William had said something to Jak before that fight began, something that might have been important. Jak thought back, recalling that the man had asked about the bomb. “You can’t let them...” was all he had said. Can’t let them...what?
“We should go check,” the dark-skinned woman said and the others agreed.
“Darn it, if William has blown up the mat-trans...” the brunette said, bitterly shaking her head.
“And it had to be now,” the honey-haired woman agreed, “right when these travelers could have...”
The blonde hushed them both with a look. “Melissas.”
“Melissas,” the honey-blonde replied, lowering her head, and her companion did the same.
The five women ushered Doc, Krysty and Jak back inside the redoubt. Doc wondered when would be the most appropriate time to mention that they had more companions waiting within.
“I