Chapter 8

Thirza helped Pit step paw by paw into an awkward mix of furs, rubber, and nanomaterials that turned out to be a snugly-fitting snowsuit. Jace was in a similar outfit by the time the last suction zipper sealed Pit's tail into its own independent pocket.

Pit stood aside to let Thirza and Liev exit the cramped room. Jace hung out of the threshold, his posture sharp and ready.

"Jace," Pit said quietly. He stared over his shoulder, mapping the table in red HUD lines. He couldn't bring himself to make his now-booted feet carry him away, or ask the question he truly wanted to ask, about that grey cap. So instead, he said, "Where's the dog?"

That softened Jace momentarily. "Sir," he said. "You are the-"

"No," Pit interrupted, growling. "I mean the rest of the dog."

He craned his head at a 90-degree angle, trying to catch the answer on Jace's face. A shadow passed over it, but Jace shook his head. "You...might consider choosing not to dwell on that, sir."

Pit heaved himself to his feet. "Let's go," he said in a low voice. "Before I decide I don't have the stomach for this."

Liev and Thirza waited for them in the tunnel, standing around a particularly deep puddle that a drip in the ceiling fed.

Being at knee-level was so strange. Pit had to crane way back to see anyone's face, which the snowsuit made difficult. He didn't savor the idea of jumping up with his forepaws on one of them to get a better look. That felt like slavering and slobbering: pathetic and so very canine.

"So," Jace said, his voice tight. "You all know the plan."

The other two humans nodded, and Pit shook his head.

"We'll see you back here tomorrow," Thirza said, hefting the gun lashed around her chest with a bluster she clearly didn't feel. "Same time. Same place."

"Gods providing," Liev added in a growl. The look he threw at Pit held a good measure of hostility. Pit's ears drooped.

"Liev," Jace said, "thank you for saying yes to this. I still think it was our duty."

"I did too. Do." Live's chuckle was rough. "Just... Gotta adjust to the idea. Don't exactly relish the two of you..." He gestured to Thirza and Jace. Pitney experienced an unfamiliar wave of nauseous empathy.

Only he and Jace would be going on.

"Thank you," Pit said gruffly. Thirza wouldn't look at him, her eyes watery, but she nodded and shot a genuine smile in his direction.

"Something I can tell all our grandchildren about," she said, putting the slightest emphasis on the word all.

"You're good soldiers," Pit said after a pause. He pawed the ground. "I-owe you a little more dignity in my commendation than this. Someday I'll pin the medals on you myself."

Jace stiffened. "They've made it to this floor, and they've got lights and vehicles. They'll move faster than us. Hurry."

Thirza wrapped her pinky finger around his and their eyes locked. They both blinked furiously, and then let go.

A scent of deep sadness and terror passed between them. It overwhelmed Pit, and he sneezed.

He opened his eyes to the greatest indignity yet.

Jason McAver had clipped a leash to the collar around his general's neck.

Though Pit snarled and snapped at the leash, Jace didn't twitch. He planted his high boot between himself and any effective jump Pit could make. For the first time, there was a glimmer of acidity in his eyes.

"Don't you dare," he snapped, "throw this away over a leash. You aren't going to die. You're embarrassed. Thirza is going to die. Liev is going to die. I might very well die. You, General Scolan, are worth saving, but not if you make our sacrifices meaningless because YOU CAN'T WEAR A FUCKING LEASH."

The force of his words made Pit's jowls flap. Pit turned away, squinting his eyes against the onset of spittle and breath.

When he was sure Jace had stopped yelling, he ducked his head. His tail drooped between his legs. "Lead on."

Jace slumped. "I apologize, sir. I should never address-"

"Go!" Pit yelped, and they broke into a run, away from where they'd come.

Away from Pitney Scolan's body. Away from the discarded Horus. Jace's carefully muffled grief accompanied their heavy footsteps.

Pit's four clumsy legs were foreign to him as they carried him around puddles and boxes and into another service area-as foreign as the overwhelming feeling of wistfulness for something past.

As they ascended in the small, creaky elevator car, Pit heard the sounds of snowbirds braying.

By the gods, he would not miss this planet.

After what felt like ten minutes of near-silence, Jace looked away and drew a deep, shuddering breath. When he turned around, he wore his battle-mask, an expression of pure determination and cold logic, one Pit had come to depend on in their missions' darkest hours.

It was reassurance enough to make Pit's tail wiggle inside the suit.

"Chirtown," was the only word Jace said for a while, but it conjured a fireworks show of images in Pit's brain. Mostly advertisements, brightly colored and full of attractive galactic denizens. The worlds' most exotic pleasure port, a New Las Vegas like no other, because an entire planet was dedicated to its infrastructure.

"The rendezvous point?" Pit asked, wriggling.

"Yeah. I've told your ride out to stop over somewhere unexpected, then rendezvous at the Breton Bar in Chirtown in eight days. If I-if we make it off Makops, that's how long it'll take us to get to you." Jace swallowed. "And if we don't, well. You'll find you can still remember all your passcodes and procedures, so you shouldn't have any trouble accessing your accounts. I know nothing'll keep you from Prowess."

They exchanged a sad smile. It was a nice thought.

The elevator had been climbing upwards, protesting every few inches, for upwards of fifteen minutes. The gloom around them lifted by degrees. The mechanism shuddered and came to a sudden stop. Pit dug his claws into the metal, wincing at the sound it made and at the idea of falling down that shaft.

He sniffed for Jace and found him unharmed though agitated. "Shit," Jace said, "they must have stopped it from below. There's a failsafe, but we've got no more than ninety seconds before they override it and we go back down."

Shunting his fear to a part of his new brain he didn't recognize, Pit pressed his nose against the car's railings and workings and snuffled until he found something promising. "Air duct," he said in a low voice, and Jace joined him on that side of the car. "You have to-to-to throw me. I'll call the elevator to the floor above."

To his immense credit, Jace did not hesitate. He unclipped the leash and threw his strong arms under Pit, hefting the burly dog into the air. For a heart-stopping moment, there was nothing under Pit but utter darkness and freezing air.