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Sten and Ida came up, offhanded aiming, firing. Sten gaped as Alex tore the head off another patrolman,
then disappeared.
The two troopers ran for the barricades. Screams. Then silence, and two patrolmen broke, running for
the exit. Alex jumped to the top of the barricade, picked up a three-meter-long steel work bench and
hurled it like a spear.
It crunched into the two men, smashing their spines. Doc and Bet darted across the room. "I would
suggest," the panda managed as he passed them, "we avoid the usual imbecile human congratulations.
We have four minutes."
The four Mantis troopers and Bet sprinted down the corridor. Sten slammed the emergency panels as
they went down the corridor. Hoping that would be enough.
The charges went just as Alex said they would. Sten, Bet, and Alex stared at the intestine-shaped lab
through a port in the main passage. Ida held Doc. Light winked, winked, and again. They felt a low
rumble through the plates under their feet. Then Bravo Project blew. The shaped charges blew out and
down, ripping the floor and supply sections out of the lab like it was a fish being gutted.
Sten thought suddenly, "That's what The Row must've looked like."
The rumble crescendoed, and emergency alarms clanged. Debris cascaded out the bottom of the lab
into space. But the top section, the Tech's housing, was still intact.
Ida and Doc looked at Alex. "Ah'm a wee bit disappointed," he said, not meaning a word of it. "I nae
counted a' that sympathetic second blast. It whidny be bon'rable to say Ah done that."
And then Bet noticed Sten was gone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
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IT WAS DONE. All traces of Bravo Project eliminated in the explosion. For the first time in hours,
Thoresen felt safe.
He poured himself a celebratory drink. Odd, he thought. His dream lay in shambles, but he still felt
elated. He'd beaten the Emperor after all. All he had to do was wait for Guard officers to come through
his door, thank them for rescuing him from the Migs, and put himself in their hands.
What could the Emperor do? Put him on trial? For what? There was no evidence. Besides, Thoresen
thought, the Emperor would be reluctant to admit publicly that an alternative to his AM2 monopoly might
exist.
Thoresen would probably have to accept a lesser position in the Company's leadership. He shrugged. It
would take a few years, but he would be back up on top again. And then they'd see. They'd all see.
Suddenly, Thoresen realized he was quite mad. He laughed. What a strange thing to realize about
yourself. It was like being another person on the outside, watching yourself, taking note of thoughts and
actions. And examining them like a Tech observing a microbe. Something crawled at the back of his
brain. Was Sten really dead? That explosion? It wasn't quite what he expected. Different, somehow.
Thoresen found himself wishing Sten
were alive. His fingers curled, imagining them crushing into the soft Mig throat. Sten, he thought. Sten.
Come to me.
There was a sound behind him. Thoresen smiled to himself and turned.
Sten was a few meters away and padding softly toward him. A knife glittering in his hand.
"Thank you," Thoresen said, "for being so prompt."
Sten hesitated. Puzzled.
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"You know me?"
"Yes. Intimately. I killed your family."
Sten was on him in a rush, knife hand blurring at his throat. Thoresen dodged, gasping slightly as the
knife point touched a shoulder, leaving a trail of blood. He kicked sideways and felt a crawl of pleasure
as he heard the dry snap of Sten's wrist breaking. The knife went flying and disappeared in the grass.
Sten ignored the pain, twisted to avoid a blow, and struck out with his good hand. Fingers clawing
Thoresen's face. And Thoresen was backing away from him. Sten went into a crouch, anticipating a
charge. Then he realized that the Baron wasn't coming at him. Behind him, a few meters away, was the
arms collection. Thoresen was going for a gun.
Sten sprinted for the wall, hands closing on an ancient blunderbuss as Thoresen reached his
choice Sten realized realized was a pirated willygun and opened flire. Sten dove to the ground,
whipped the shotgun up. Fired. The charge ripped into the overhead dome lighting. Darkness. And he
was rolling over and over again as the AM2 bullets stabbed through the darkness, searching for him.
He crawled behind a tree. Chunks of earth and wood exploded around him. Then silence. Sten listened.
He heard a slight rustling as Thoresen moved, in the darkness. Sten thought he was coming toward him.
Gathered himself for a leap.
A click. A long rasp. And Thoresen opened the cages.
The tigers came out of the cage running. Two huge mutated gray Bengals. Growling softly. Lashing their
tails.
Thoresen punched a control button. A tingling in their collars, and they turned, then moved swiftly away
from him.
Sten moved through the brush. Where was Thoresen? Why didn't he come? A rustling behind him. Soft
padding. Sten whirled as the tiger charged. Bounding. Then a huge leap, straight at him.
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He dropped backward, bringing his feet together and straight up with all his strength. They connected,
and the tiger went flying over him. Landing, convulsing. Tried to get up, then went down. Dead, its throat
crushed by Sten's kick.
Sten came to his feet, fighting back the pain in his useless wrist. Sickness crawled in his stomach. Then.
Over there! A sound. Thoresen, he was sure.
The dome lights came on. Sten was frozen for a moment, blinded by the glare. Then he dived for cover
as the willygun opened up. He was behind another tree. How many shots? He hadn't heard Thoresen
reload. He had to be getting low on ammunition. Sten looked around wildly, searching for a weapon.
The tiger stood there, lashing its tail. Gathering itself for a leap. Then it screamed to freeze him in place.
Sten forced himself to laugh, a wild almost hysterical giggle.
"I got the other one, Thoresen," he shouted.
The Baron opened up with the willygun. Catching the tiger just as it jumped for Sten. It turned end over
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