Free A Covenant of Justice by David Gerrold

them, they’ll have rigged the ones closest to the door. Let’s go forward. Lee, watch behind!”
    Sawyer pointed to Tuan. “What how I do this.” He unclipped the safety cover from the external launch panel, turned the arming key, and punched the red panel. The starship shuddered as the first shuttleboat leapt away. “Launch them all as decoys. They’ll cover our escape.”
    They began working their way down the corridor, jettisoning each boat in turn. The Golden Fury reverberated again and again and again.
    As they approached each access, Sawyer stuck his cannon around the corner and fired down into the tube. The beam splattered painfully like a water-jet in a bucket. Already his fingers felt numb; his cheeks had turned red and blistered.
    â€œTake this one—” signaled Three-Dollar. Sawyer approached the tube carefully. He stuck his gun around into the access—
    â€œDon’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” someone called.
    â€œCome out, slowly—”
    A pale Vampire boy, hands held over his head came crawling up out of the shuttle-tube. “Please, don’t shoot—” he begged. His eyes flicked from one to the other, pausing only briefly on the unconscious form of Lady Zillabar before returning to meet Sawyer’s. “Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I promise—”
    Sawyer hesitated. He looked to Three-Dollar. “We can’t leave him here.”
    Three-Dollar looked unhappy. Behind him, Lee-1169 scowled. “We can’t take him with.”
    Sawyer made a decision. He motioned with his rifle. “Walk down to the end of the passageway. Stand there. Don’t say anything. Don’t do anything.”
    The boy nodded quickly, eager to please, and began backing away. He started to lower his arms; abruptly he reached behind himself—he ducked and rolled. Lee’s shot narrowly missed Sawyer’s head. He flinched sideways. The boy returned fire. Something splattered behind Sawyer. He ignored it and fired back. Another shot from Lee—the blue fire punched right through the Vampire boy, almost exploding him from the center outward. His right arm jerked away from his body with a needle-gun held tightly in its grip.
    â€œThought so,” said Lee. “Vampires never beg.”
    Sawyer looked back to Three-Dollar. “Some Alliance of Life you’ve got.” He stood up warily.
    â€œThis doesn’t please me,” Three-Dollar said bitterly.
    â€œWhere did Tuan go?” Sawyer asked.
    Lee pointed at the passage opposite the one the boy had come from. “He jumped in there.”
    Sawyer looked into the tube and froze—Tuan lay on the floor, all charred and twisted. Three-Dollar stepped up beside him, looked and turned away. A moment later, Lee-1169 pushed them both aside. He didn’t flinch. He merely nodded and said, “They’ll pay for this one too. I promise it.”
    Sawyer bit his lip, wondering if he should add his vow to Lee’s. Probably not. Lee might take offense, might feel that Sawyer had no right to vengeance here. So he just nodded, patted Lee once on the shoulder, and turned away. He didn’t know how well the two men had known each other, what Tuan might have meant to Lee, and it didn’t matter. Tuan had died in service of the Alliance. In that, Sawyer realized . . . he had died for all of them.
    â€œCome on,” Three-Dollar said. He pushed Sawyer forward into the tube. He grabbed Lee too. “Let’s get out of here before they decide to use sleepy-time gas.” He steered the wheelchair quickly down the tunnel after them.
    The access tube led down at a steep angle to where the hatch of the shuttleboat linked up with the hatch of the starship. Sawyer stepped into the boat cautiously. The cabin stood empty. The acceleration couches waited invitingly.
    Three-Dollar pushed the wheelchair into the boat, followed by Lee, who quickly sealed and