“There’s a small lifeboat on the back of this skimmer. There was one on the raft, too, but it’s been replaced by a hunk of reef. The draft should be shallow enough so that the Vom will ignore it.”

Mal prodded the drugger’s leg. “What do you think? Could the drug do anything?”

“Who can say? The Vom—that’s its name, eh?—is an unknown quality. But this amount of bloodhype,”—he indicated the case—”is a unique gathering, too. Sure be an interesting experiment. Of course, if the monster does absorb the case and the drug, it might also absently ingest the boat and boatman.”

“An admitted complication,” said Kitten. “One that I can’t see a way around. We’ll just have to chance it. Unhook the case from that wrist chain, please.”

“You can’t be serious, pretty-pretty! The idea’s insane! I feel duty-bound to protect you from yourself. I don’t believe I should let you have it.” He clutched the precious container possessively.

“Unlock the chain,” said Mal quietly, “or I’ll simply detach the whole arm.”

“You argue persuasively, Captain.” Rose bent over and did something to the connecting links. There was a sharp click and the case was free.

Mal hefted it in one hand. “Very light, for so much death.” He turned and walked towards the rear of the skimmer. “Give me a hand with the boat, Kitten.”

“What makes you think you’re going?”

“For openers, I can row faster, harder, and longer than you. I might have a chance of making it far enough back to the reef to escape. You wouldn’t.”

“What about your precious credit account, Captain? There’s neither profit nor percentage in this for you.”

“So I’m mentally erratic, like you say. Besides, Repler’s always been a profitable stopover for the Umbra. I’d like to see the suckers live a while longer.”

“I can accept your rationale,” she replied. “But don’t expect me to be ladylike about it.”

“Kitten, I wouldn’t expect you to be ladylike about anything.” He turned to unfasten the braces holding the tiny boat. The blow that hit the back of his neck was very clean and carefully judged.

“Well struck!” applauded Rose. “I admire your work. Can I give you a hand with the boat?”

“The day I need to ask for your help I’ll just sell my soul outright. Mortgage and all.”

“As you wish. I will need yours, then.”

She turned and straightened slowly, staring at the object in his hand.

“That’s interesting,” she said evenly. “You have a gun.”