“It’ll work,” Racer said roughly.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Severance gave every appearance of being only mildly interested.

“Tell you what,” Racer said, glancing at Cidra, who was still standing motionless in front of the tent. “I’ll do you a favor. I’ll take Cidra with me.”

Cidra started, growing cold inside. “No.”

Severance was watching Racer. “And do what? Throw her in the river when you’ve finished with her? She might as well stay with me.”

Racer grinned, sensing that for the first time he had a handle on the situation. He seized it, motioning at Cidra with the pulser. “Get on board the skimmer, Cidra. You don’t want to stay behind. Something in this jungle is going to have your shipmaster for dinner tonight, and you’ll be dessert if you’re hanging around.”

“No,” Cidra said again. She looked to Severance for some support, but he was quiet, almost thoughtful. “I’m staying here.”

“She’s a Harmonic, Racer. If the right people find out you’ve hurt her, there’ll be a reckoning. You know that.”

“I might not have to get rid of her,” Racer temporized, “if she has the sense to keep her mouth shut. Do you, Otanna?” He made the formal title a mockery.

“I don’t understand.” Cidra’s tone was aloof, but her heart was beating much too quickly, and the palms of her hands, folded serenely in front of her, were damp. This was as bad as facing the intruder in the lab had been.

“Sure, you understand. Harmonics are real good at understanding, aren’t they? They’re also real good at keeping their promises. I’m going to take you with me. At the end of the trip you’ll have a choice. Give me your word as a Harmonic that you’ll keep quiet about what happened here this morning and I’ll put you on the next freighter to Clementia. Refuse and I’ll feed you to a dracon.”

“Why don’t you simply leave me here with Severance?”

“Because knowing you’re going to be warming my bunk for a couple of nights will eat him up inside. I want to give him something to think about while he’s waiting for the deflector screens to fail.”

Cidra understood. Racer thought that she and Severance were lovers. He thought he could use her to twist the blade in Severance. She knew in that moment that there was far more between the two men than was obvious. This kind of hatred went back a long way. She shivered and unconsciously stepped closer to Severance. “Go with him, Cidra.”

She was stunned at Severance’s soft, order. “I will not go with him. I work for you. I’m staying here.”

“Cidra, with him you’ve got a chance. Take it.”

“No.”

Overcash snarled. “How long are we going to stand here and chat, Racer?”

“No longer.” Racer lifted the pulser slightly. “Get on board the skimmer, Cidra, or I’ll kill Severance and be done with the whole thing.”

He would do it. Cidra looked into Racer’s face and knew he had been pushed far enough. Any farther and Severance would die. He wouldn’t even have the hours until nightfall that the deflectors could provide. She was trained to analyze a situation and react logically. Without a word she stepped past Severance and walked toward the skimmer.

Racer visibly relaxed, a satisfied expression in his eyes.

“They always say Harmonics are bright. Be interesting to see how good one is in bed. The next couple of nights are going to be amusing. Think about them while you’re waiting for the deflectors to run out of power, Severance.”

“You know what’ll happen if I make it out of here, don’t you, Racer?” Severance asked very softly.

“We both know you’ll never make it out, so there’s no need to worry about it. If I were you, Severance, I’d stop wasting breath on threats and start thinking about how long those deflectors will last without a recharge.” Racer backed to the boat, keeping the pulser trained on Severance.

When he was on board, Overcash slipped the last tethers holding the skimmer in place and moved into the cabin. Cidra stood in the stern, her eyes on Severance as the skimmer’s fuel cells hummed to life. The power packs glowed green beside her in the rear of the boat. She was cold and sick inside. When Severance met her gaze and smiled faintly, she felt an unfamiliar stinging sensation behind her eyes. Her hands tightened in front of her.

“I’ll take the wheel,” Racer said as the skimmer moved away from shore. “This next little surprise has got to be timed properly.” He holstered the pulser as Overcash stepped out of the cabin.

Cidra tensed as the skimmer drifted farther from the bank. Severance was walking back toward the tent. He seemed in no hurry, but Overcash frowned and palmed his own pulser. The base of the weapon glowed red. “What’s he doing?”

“There’s nothing he can do,” Racer told him from inside the cabin.

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it. In another couple of minutes the skimmer will go to the bottom and, with it, any chance he’s got of getting out of this in one piece.”

Cidra listened to the exchange, aware that in typical Wolf fashion both men had assumed that she was incapable of being a threat. They were right. She could not hope to use her Moonlight and Mirrors on both of them at the same time. Not when each man was armed with a pulser. But their attention was not on her, and this was the only opportunity she was going to get. She edged toward the high gunwale of the skimmer. It would be better if she could take off the boots, but that was not possible.

“He’s disappeared!” Overcash yelled. “I think he’s inside the tent. I can’t see what he’s doing.”

“This will bring him out in one renegade hell of a hurry.” Racer activated the control of the small instrument he was holding in one hand. “Watch. I rigged your boat for you, Overcash, before you left Try Again.”

There was a muffled roar. The skimmer left floating near the bank seemed to shudder, and then it imploded with a sickening crunch of diazite and metal. Slowly but inevitably the boat crumpled in on itself and sank into the river. Cidra waited no longer. This was the best chance she was going to get.

Overcash was staring in fascination at the disintegrating skimmer when Cidra went over the side. She launched herself in a smooth, flat arc, aiming for the shallowest possible dive. The last thing she wanted to do was go any deeper into the river than was absolutely necessary. Behind her she caught part of Overcash’s outraged yell. “She’s gone over!”