He was quite muscular, she noted with satisfaction. Just like a hero should be, if perhaps a tad on the wiry side. But why was he pushing her away?
“It’s only Bronstein,” he gruffed. “Come. We don’t want to get you captured again.”
“But it’s a bat! A giant bat!” She shuddered. “Won’t it get into my hair?”
He picked up his pack. “Don’t call Bronstein an ‘it.’ And I don’t know about your hair, but she can certainly get up my nose.”
“Stupid humans,” muttered—Bronstein?
What kind of name was that, for a monster?
“Call the rats, Chip, we must go.”
They began jog trotting down the passage, the hero hurrying her along. Virginia was a bit nonplussed. The hero was called—Chip? What kind of name was that for a hero?
She started at the sight of the cat-sized rats that joined them, but managed to refrain from comment. Now that she thought about it, she’d heard about the rats and bats that humans had bred to fight against the Magh’. These looked like fighters, just in the way they moved. Not just fighters, but battle-scarred and battered fighters. They all wore harnesses, packs and bandoliers. Briefly, she wondered where their leashes were.
Fortunately, they hurried her onwards before she asked.
“And Fluff? Where is Fluff?” Virginia asked anxiously.
The galago leapt onto her shoulder. “I said to you, ‘never fear, Fluff is here,’ mi Virginia. Now we must run, before the Magh’ come.”
“Hear that girls?” sniggered Pistol. “Don Macho-shrimp is called Fluff!”
Fal laughed. “Heh heh. Fancy a bit o’ Fluff on the side, eh, Phylla?”
“Don’t you mean a Fluff on the bint?” asked Nym.
“Come on, rats!” said Chip. “Time for that later. We want to get out before the Maggots stir.”
The girl looked at him, startled. “But why are we going out? We must still rescue the Professor.”
Chip looked her. “No, Miss Muffet. What we’ve got to do is get the hell out of here. Now.”
Virginia gasped. “But . . . he’s my tutor. You can’t just leave him here.” She stared in fury at Chip.
“Tutor!” Chip laughed. “I’m not surprised you’re a bit crazy, having been stuck in there.”
She stopped and stamped her foot. She was not used to being disobeyed. She vaguely remembered that the servants used to play mean tricks on her, before . . . But no one would ever have dreamed of directly countering an order from her. “You WILL go and rescue him now!” she shouted.
He grabbed her shoulder and hauled her onwards. “I will give you a smart slap if you don’t shut your face, and get a move on.”
She wrenched herself free. “Do you know who I am?”
He lowered his head and shook it, looking like an irritated, if small, bull. “I couldn’t give a toss if you are the Queen of Sheba. Or even the Managing Director’s daughter, for that matter!”
“Well, that is just who I am,” she informed him imperiously.
He snorted. “The Queen of Sheba? Well, get a move on, your royal majesty—or you’ll be Maggot-crap.”
“I am Virginia Shaw! And you’d better listen to me, you . . . you . . . Vat-born scum!”
He looked into her face, and gave her a crooked-toothed grin. “Oh yeah. Tell me another one, mademoiselle Shareholder.” He snorted derisively. “Your teeth are a giveaway, kid. So you’re the only Shareholder on the planet with skew teeth.”
Virginia tightened her jaws. How could she tell him that before the implant she’d been too impossible about the orthodontic brace? That her parents had given up, when she utterly refused to cooperate. “I am Virginia Shaw,” she repeated sullenly. “Ask Fluff.”
“I wouldn’t trust that little thing’s piece of head-plastic to speak my weight,” he said dismissively. He tugged on her arm, trying to get her to walk.
She hit him. She’d never hit anyone before. It made a very satisfying swat noise on his cheek and stung her hand.
Then—she was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. But you mustn’t insult Fluff. I am Virginia Shaw. Really.”
“S’ okay.” Chip grinned at her. “I wasn’t insulting the little fella. Just that alien-built rubbish in his head. Let’s at least keep walking.”