Human After All by Connie Bailey Page B

says more than you know about your humanity. Now go. I’ll stay and make excuses.”
    Drue paused to look back. “Good luck, Lady,” he said, knowing how inadequate the words were, but there was no time for more.
    The hatch was closing, and Drue hurriedly buckled into the nav harness as the Veetle lifted off. Movement around the roof access door drew the Exotic’s attention, and he saw a burly figure in the matte material of a CU cov-ops uniform emerge from the shadows. Alvera turned and dropped into attack stance as the gray-clad assassin lunged at her. Nothing of the Combat-Ulteem’s features showed except for his eyes above the scarf that masked the lower half of his face. The CU’s gaze flicked up at the departing Veetle for a nanosecond, but Drue would never forget the pale eyes as cold and devoid of softness as a pair of polished agates. Time began moving forward again as the assassin broke Alvera’s neck almost as an afterthought on his way to his goal. The CU leaped to the top of a decorative spire, and Drue’s paralysis broke.
    “Faster,” he urged Jaymes. “Make this thing go faster.”
    “What?” Jaymes looked at Drue and followed the line of the Exotic’s gaze as the CU launched himself into space. The last vestiges of the T-bred’s trance of unreality blew away in a blast of adrenalin as he punched a button on the emergency display. The sleek little craft seemed to gather itself and then bolted like a rock from a slingshot. Something thumped against the tail as the cityscape fell away at an alarming rate, and Jaymes had to swallow his heart back down to its rightful place when he finally regained control. “Who was that?” he gasped as the Veetle’s flight smoothed out.
    “I can’t be sure, but he looked like Alvera’s new footman. And he was wearing military issue.”
    “Murd!” Jaymes cursed as he narrowly missed a collision with a high-altitude beacon-buoy. “Where the messhig are we?”
    “Why don’t you look at the nav panel?”
    “Why don’t you?” Jaymes glanced at the other Companion’s pale face. “Are you all right?”
    “Not even close. I’m just beginning to realize what Alvera’s death means. We’re meat.”
    “I know. In fact, I told you so.”
    “Yeah, yeah, you’re a jeedee genius. Now frij and give me a minute to think.”
    “We don’t have a minute. We’re coming up on the first border.”
    “Cross it.”
    “You want me to leave the Cloister?”
    “Yes. Do it.”
    “Without a Citizen escort?”
    “What choice do we have? As long as we’re In-Bounds, Metropol can find us simply by asking Gentren where we are. If we go into the Cities, it will take a little longer for them to track us.”
    “That doesn’t make sense.”
    “That’s because you don’t know about the Jammerz.”
    “Tell me now,” Jaymes said, slowing the Veetle. “Or I turn back and find the nearest Lofficer. Maybe they’ll believe my story and exonerate me.”
    “Londean and the Deep are both dead—among various others. The authorities will destroy you on sight. You know I’m right.”
    Jaymes’s knuckles went pale where he gripped the controls. The Zot was right, and even if he hadn’t been, the compulsion program was still running, and Jaymes found it hard to disagree with it. It was an effort to keep from engaging the accelerator as Drue wished. Somewhat less than three hours ago, Jaymes had been certain of who he was and what his future held, and now he was free-falling as surely as if he’d fallen out of the Veetle.
    “The Jammerz are Pygmalions who figured a way to screen Gentren’s probes and deflect them,” Drue was saying. “Of course, that alerts Gentren to their location, and they have to move a lot, but if we can find them, it would give us a chance to….”
    “To what?”
    “To get away,” Drue answered.
    Jaymes was sure the Exotic had been about to say something else, but he didn’t push the issue just then. Resetting the speed parameters, he nudged