tz.cobra strike-第33部分

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g　his　full　attention　to　the　man；　Pyre　said　the　only　Qasaman　word　he　knew：　〃Kimmeron。〃
　The　other；　apparently　misunderstanding；　shook　his　head　wildly。　〃Sibbio；〃　he　choked；　slapping　his　chest　with　an　open　palm；　eyes　dropping　to　the　gun　still　in　Pyre's　hand。　〃Sibbio。〃
　Pyre　grimaced　and　tried　again。　〃Kimmeron。　Kim…meron？〃　He　waved　his　free　hand　vaguely　around　the　room。
　The　Qasaman　got　it　then。　Even　through　the　haze　of　fumes　Pyre　saw　his　face　visibly　pale。　Doesn't　know　where　the　mayor　is？　Or　does　know　and　the　place　is　top…secret？　The　latter；　he　suspected；　Sibbio's　clothes　seemed　too　ornate　for　a　mere　servitor。　Taking　a　long　step　forward；　the　Cobra　glared　as　hard　as　he　could　at　the　man。　〃Kimmeron；〃　he　bit　out　harshly。
　The　other　gazed　into　Pyre's　eyes　and　silently　got　to　his　feet。
　The　bolthole　was　right　where；　in　retrospect。　Pyre　should　have　expected　to　find　it：　directly　in　front　of　the　cushiony　throne。　Sibbio　showed　him　the　hidden　lever　that　released　the　trap　door；　looking　down　the　hole；　Pyre　saw　the　meter…square　shaft　change　a　few　meters　down　into　a　curving　ramp　that　presumably　dumped　the　passengers　into　the　safety　of　a　heavily　guarded　room　somewhere　down　the　line。
　Unfortunately；　the　trap's　position　implied　it　was　also　useful　for　getting　undesirables　out　of　the　mayor's　sight；　which　meant　the　guards　below　would　be　trained　to　handle　potential　nuisances。　But　there　was　nothing　Pyre　could　do　about　that　on　his　time　budget　。。。　and　now　that　the　trap　was　open；　there　was　no　point　in　further　hesitation。　Giving　Sibbio's　mojo　one　last　glance；　the　Cobra　stepped　into　the　pit。
　It　was　a　smooth　enough　ride；　the　curved　section　of　tunnel　beginning　early　enough　and　gradually　enough　to　ease　him　onto　his　back　for　the　final　thirty…degree　slope。　It　was　also　a　much　shorter　trip　than　he'd　planned　on；　and　he　had　barely　registered　the　dim　square　outline　rushing　toward　him　when　he　shot　through　the　light…blocking　curtain　and　landed　flat　on　his　back　on　a　giant　foam　pad；　the　gun　slipping　from　his　grip　as　he　hit。　His　eyes　adjusted…
　To　find　a　ring　of　guns　surrounding　him。
　Five　of　them；　he　counted　as　he　lay　motionless。　The　guard　nearest　his　fallen　weapon　scooped　it　up；　jamming　it　into　his　own　empty　holster。　〃You　will　make　no　move；〃　said　a　man　standing　at　Pyre's　feet　in　the　middle　of　the　semicircle；　in　harshly　accented　Anglic。
　Pyre　locked　eyes　with　him；　then　sent　his　gaze　leisurely　around　the　ring　of　guards。　〃I　want　to　talk　to　Mayor　Kimmeron；〃　he　said　to　the　spokesman。
　〃You　will　not　move　until　you　are　judged　to　be　weaponless；〃　the　Qasaman　told　him。
　〃Is　Kimmeron　here？〃
　The　other　ignored　his　question。　He　spoke　instead　to　his　men；　two　of　whom　handed　their　weapons　to　the　others。　They　knelt　down　on　either　side　of　Pyre　。。。　and　the　Cobra　kicked　his　heels　hard　into　the　pad。
　The　pad　was　spongy；　but　the　kick　had　servo　strength　behind　it　and　an　instant　later　Pyre　was　flipping　rigidly　around　the　pivot　point　of　his　head。　One　of　the　guns　barked；　too　late…and　then　it　was　too　late　for　any　further　response　as　Pyre　triggered　the　laser　salvo　he'd　set　up　while　looking　around　the　guard　ring。　For　an　instant　the　room　blazed　with　laser　fire　。。。　and　by　the　time　Pyre's　body　had　pleted　its　flip　the　five　Qasamans　were　kneeling　or　lying　on　the　floor　in　various　stages　of　shock；　their　flash…heated　guns　scattered　among　the　dead　mojos。
　Pyre　got　to　his　feet；　eyes　seeking　the　spokesman。　〃I　could　as　easily　have　killed　all　of　you；〃　he　said　calmly。　〃I'm　not　here　to　kill　Mayor　Kimmeron…〃
　Without　warning；　the　other　four　Qasamans　leaped　to　their　feet　and　rushed　him。
　He　let　them　e；　and　as　the　first　one　got　within　range；　he　snapped　out　his　arm　to　catch　the　other　in　the　chest　with　his　palm。　There　was　a　wumph　of　expelled　air；　the　sharper　crack　of　snapped　ribs；　and　the　Qasa…man　flew　two　meters　backwards　to　crash　to　the　floor。
　　The　other　three　skidded　to　a　halt；　and　Pyre　saw　an　abrupt　swelling　of　fear　and　respect　in　their　faces。　It　was　one　thing；　he　reflected；　to　be　disarmed　by　effectively　magical　bursts　of　light；　it　was　quite　another　to　see　brute　physical　force　in　action。　Or　to　feel　it；　for　that　matter。　The　temporary　numbness　in　his　palm　was　wearing　off　and　the　skin　there　was　aching　like　fury。　The　Qasaman　would　feel　a　lot　worse　when　he　woke　up。　If　he　ever　did。
　Pyre's　eyes　caught　the　spokesman's　again。　〃I'm　not　here　to　kill　Mayor　Kimmeron；　but　merely　to　talk　with　him；〃　he　said　as　calmly　as　his　tingling　hand　permitted。　〃Take　me　to　him。　Now。〃
　The　other　licked　his　lips；　glancing　over　to　where　one　of　his　men　was　ministering　to　his　injured　colleague。　Then；　looking　back　at　Pyre；　he　nodded。　〃Follow　me　this　way。〃　He　said　something　else　to　his　men；　then　turned　and　headed　for　a　door　in　the　far　end　of　the　room。　Pyre　followed；　the　two　remaining　Qasamans　falling　into　step　behind　him。
　They　passed　through　the　door；　and　Pyre　felt　a　split　second　of　deja　vu。　The　same　cushiony　throne　and　low　tables　as　in　the　office　upstairs　were　here　as　well。　But　this　room　was　smaller；　and　the　hanging　curtains　had　been　replaced　by　banks　of　visual　displays。
　And　glaring　darkly　at　one　of　the　displays　was　Mayor　Kimmeron。
　He　looked　up　as　Pyre　and　his　escort　approached；　and　the　Cobra　waited　for　the　inevitable　reaction。　Kimmeron's　gaze　swept　Pyre's　matted　hair　and　growth　of　beard；　his　borrowed　jacket　over　camouflage　survival　suit；　the　dead　mojo　now　hanging　over　his　shouD…der　by　a　single　thread。　But　his　expression　didn't　change；　and　when　he　looked　up　again　at　Pyre's　face　the　Cobra　was　struck　by　the　brightness　of　the　other's　eyes；　〃You　are　from　the　ship；〃　Kimmeron　said　calmly。　〃You　left　it　before　our　cordon　was　set　up。　How？〃
　〃Magic；〃　Pyre　said　shortly。　He　glanced　around　the　room。　Another　fifteen　or　so　Qasamans　were　present　nearly　all　of　them　staring　in　his　direction。　All　had　the　usual　sidearm　and　mojo；　but　no　one　looked　like　he　was　interested　in　making　any　move　for　his　weapon。　〃Your　underground　mand　post？〃　he　asked　Kimmeron。
　〃One　of　them；〃　the　other　nodded。　〃There　are　many　more。　You　will　gain　little　by　destroying　it。〃
　〃I'm　not　really　interested　in　destroying　anything；〃　Pyre　told　him。　〃I'm　here　mainly　to　arrange　our　panions〃　release。〃
　Kimmeron's　lip　curled。　〃You　are　remarkably　slow　to　learn；〃　he　spat。　〃Didn't　the　death　of　your　other　messenger　teach　you　a　lesson？〃
　Pyre　felt　his　mouth　go　dry。　〃What　other　messenger？　You　mean　the　contact　team？〃
　For　a　moment　the　other　frowned。　Then　his　face　cleared　in　understanding。　〃Ah。　The　jamming　of　your　radio　signals　was　effective　against　you；　at　least。　I　see。
　So　you　do　not　know　the　man　Winward　left　your　ship
　V　without　permission　and　was　shot。〃
　Winward？　Had　Telek　started　her　breakout　attempt　｜f　already？　〃Why　did　you　shoot　him？〃　he　snapped。　〃You　〃'（：　just　said　he　was　a　messenger…〃　i；。；　〃For　the　unprovoked　deaths　of　eight　men　in　Purma　and　six　here　you　are　all　responsible。　You　have　spied　i。　and　you　have　murdered；　and　your　punishment　will　H　be　that　of　death。〃
　？：？　Pyre　stared　at　him；　mental　wheels　unable　to　catch。　v　Winward　。。。　shot　down　like　a　spine　leopard；　proba…：；　bly　without　so　much　as　a　warning。　Then　why　aren't　V；　they　shooting　at　me？　Simple　fear？…he　wouldn't　be　〃