Cobra Gamble by Timothy Zahn Page A

had said, there were plenty of changes of clothing available, and within two minutes the Djinn had stripped off their combat suits and transformed themselves into six more civilians.
    Daulo had also changed into more appropriate travel clothing, and was helping one of the Djinni load water bottles into the small carrier bag beneath his wheelchair, when Akim, Omnathi, and Haafiz arrived. Akim looked tense, Omnathi seemed oddly calm, and Haafiz looked like an afternoon thunderstorm looming on the horizon waiting to explode in all its fury.
    But at least he wasn't threatening anyone. At least not at the moment. In fact, he didn't seem inclined to say anything at all.
    Ten minutes later, with two of the civilian-clothed Djinn in the lead and Haafiz glowering right behind them, the group filed up a long ramp and through a door out into the open sunshine.
    Into a ruined city.
    Daulo looked around, his heart sinking, as the doctor wheeled him along the silent streets. Omnathi had said the invaders were destroying Sollas, but Daulo had had no idea how deep and thorough that destruction had been.
    The southern part of the city, the part their group was traveling through, was still relatively intact, though there were numerous cracks and ridges in the pavement. But as they passed the wide avenues leading northwest, Daulo could see mounds of rubble to the north where buildings had once stood. Further north, beyond the rubble, were places where there was nothing but gaping holes, the devastation half concealed by a haze of dust or smoke.
    Occasionally, he heard one of the others in their group murmur something to a companion, most of the comments edged with sadness or shaking with anger. But mostly the only sounds were the shuffling of feet through gravel, the creaking of the wheelchair as it moved across the uneven terrain, and the crackle and thud of the distant and ongoing destruction.
    Aside from themselves, the only living beings in view were the invaders.
    From the way Omnathi had talked, Daulo had expected the Trofts to be standing right at the exit as the refugees emerged onto the street, stopping each in turn and checking them for weapons, contraband of whatever sort, and Djinni combat suits. To his mild surprise, the aliens instead kept a cautious distance, watching warily but never approaching closer than fifty meters as the little clump of humans made their way along the deserted streets.
    From a tactical point of view it seemed dangerously careless. It also made Daulo wonder what the whole fuss back in the conference room had been about.
    The refugees had covered about half the distance to the city's southwest gate when he found out. As the group rounded a corner, they abruptly found themselves surrounded by a double ring of Trofts. The aliens in the inner circle gave a single order. "Humans: halt."
    The Trofts then proceeded to do a quick search of everyone, including taking brief but thorough looks beneath the men's robes and tunics. The outer ring stayed well back, their lasers trained on the humans, until the search was over. Then, as silently as they'd descended on the refugees, the aliens withdrew, returning to doorways, alleys, and the other places where they'd apparently been standing their unobtrusive watch.
    The group had made it another two blocks before an odd thought suddenly struck Daulo.
    Why was Haafiz still with them''.
    He stared at the back of the Shahni's head, frowning as his chair bumped its way down the street. One of the Trofts' first objectives in their invasion had been the Palace, with the clear intent of capturing or neutralizing Qasamans leaders.
    Yet now, with one of those Shahni standing a meter away, they'd failed to take him. Could the aliens really be so careless or gullible that a simple change of clothing could deceive them?
    "Clever, wouldn't you say?" Omnathi murmured from beside the bouncing wheelchair.
    Daulo looked up, startled. "Excuse me?"
    "The invaders' tactic of waiting until we