Read Online Chalker, Jack L. - Well of Souls 02 by Exiles At the Well of Souls - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Exiles At the Well of Souls
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removing the tiny pad. Carefully, methodically, she smoothed it over all exposed areas of her skin. The mild chemical, reacting to another in the makeup, caused it to turn a deep black. Next she removed the special contact lenses, squeezed two drops in her eyes from a nearly minute dropper, then took another, different pair out of her pack and slipped them in. They were clear, but if she activated the tiny power supply in her buckle, they would turn into infrared lenses. More than one on New Pompeii had cat's eyes.
Switching to that mode, she picked up the mirror carefully and looked at herself. She looked exceedingly monstrous, of course, but the chemical blackener was an effective shield against the heat radiation infrared viewers saw. She touched up a few spots until she could see nothing in the mirror. Her hands she checked visually.
Then came the nodules. They fit under her long, sharp nails, and the injector point actually merged with the points of her fingernails. She loaded each one of them, not all with the same stuff. More than once these nasty little devices had saved her neck— and cost others dearly.
Finally she touched the second power-pack module on the buckle. This energy source fed the material in the chemicals and in her clothing. Heat-sensitive devices would ignore her.
They were still trying to figure out that jewel robbery on Baldash.
She wanted this job over and done quickly, if possible. The girl, anyway. If it could be done tonight, fine. If not, she'd at least know the lay of the land.
The big door lock was no problem, but the four sensors in the door were. The door was nearly flush with the mounting; she could only slip in two matching strips. The third took some work with a blade. Though she had no knife, the specially treated organic material in her boot had served as one. The toenail of a large animal on some distant world, sharpened, treated like her own nails. A nice, thin, flat blade.
The other strips slipped in easily, and she carefully and slowly opened the door. No alarms, so she peered cautiously outside. The hallway was dark but apparently not guarded. For all his reliance on people, Trelig used a professional supersecurity system, one he'd bought and paid for. And that was his mistake. Successful criminals— the ones they hadn't caught— had countered them long ago. They would be on infrared, and with mikes. If she didn't make much noise and if the protective circuits were in, she should be invisible.
She stepped out into the hall and carefully closed the door behind her without a sound. There were no flags. She was safe.
This would have been harder if he'd kept the hall lit, she thought.
But nothing was impossible in this line to the Cat Goddess, as she was called on lots of wanted lists. They even suspected who she was, but they had never proved anything.
She met no one on her way back to the banquet hall, which, she discovered, was the only obvious entrance or exit. Only one camera there; she'd checked that at dinner.
She moved as close to the entrance as she could and peered out of the curtains. The camera, which was linked to a small paralyzer, rotated along a rail on the base of the dome. A single fixed camera in the dome itself wouldn't have supplied adequate coverage; the moving one covered the entire area in thirty seconds. She timed the movements repeatedly to see that they hadn't varied it. Only for twelve seconds was the entrance out of view. And the entrance was about ninety meters from her.
Experience and training paid in the calculations— the area of view and the like going through her mind. She took two deep breaths, then watched the little camera go around, hit the precisely calculated point. At that instant she sped for the entrance, making it outside in under eleven seconds, something considered impossible, she knew, for such a tiny woman.
But this was .7 G.
She didn't take the steps, but climbed, catlike, over the side and down to the bushes below.
Switching to that mode, she picked up the mirror carefully and looked at herself. She looked exceedingly monstrous, of course, but the chemical blackener was an effective shield against the heat radiation infrared viewers saw. She touched up a few spots until she could see nothing in the mirror. Her hands she checked visually.
Then came the nodules. They fit under her long, sharp nails, and the injector point actually merged with the points of her fingernails. She loaded each one of them, not all with the same stuff. More than once these nasty little devices had saved her neck— and cost others dearly.
Finally she touched the second power-pack module on the buckle. This energy source fed the material in the chemicals and in her clothing. Heat-sensitive devices would ignore her.
They were still trying to figure out that jewel robbery on Baldash.
She wanted this job over and done quickly, if possible. The girl, anyway. If it could be done tonight, fine. If not, she'd at least know the lay of the land.
The big door lock was no problem, but the four sensors in the door were. The door was nearly flush with the mounting; she could only slip in two matching strips. The third took some work with a blade. Though she had no knife, the specially treated organic material in her boot had served as one. The toenail of a large animal on some distant world, sharpened, treated like her own nails. A nice, thin, flat blade.
The other strips slipped in easily, and she carefully and slowly opened the door. No alarms, so she peered cautiously outside. The hallway was dark but apparently not guarded. For all his reliance on people, Trelig used a professional supersecurity system, one he'd bought and paid for. And that was his mistake. Successful criminals— the ones they hadn't caught— had countered them long ago. They would be on infrared, and with mikes. If she didn't make much noise and if the protective circuits were in, she should be invisible.
She stepped out into the hall and carefully closed the door behind her without a sound. There were no flags. She was safe.
This would have been harder if he'd kept the hall lit, she thought.
But nothing was impossible in this line to the Cat Goddess, as she was called on lots of wanted lists. They even suspected who she was, but they had never proved anything.
She met no one on her way back to the banquet hall, which, she discovered, was the only obvious entrance or exit. Only one camera there; she'd checked that at dinner.
She moved as close to the entrance as she could and peered out of the curtains. The camera, which was linked to a small paralyzer, rotated along a rail on the base of the dome. A single fixed camera in the dome itself wouldn't have supplied adequate coverage; the moving one covered the entire area in thirty seconds. She timed the movements repeatedly to see that they hadn't varied it. Only for twelve seconds was the entrance out of view. And the entrance was about ninety meters from her.
Experience and training paid in the calculations— the area of view and the like going through her mind. She took two deep breaths, then watched the little camera go around, hit the precisely calculated point. At that instant she sped for the entrance, making it outside in under eleven seconds, something considered impossible, she knew, for such a tiny woman.
But this was .7 G.
She didn't take the steps, but climbed, catlike, over the side and down to the bushes below.
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