Camouflage

popped up, rifle-shot crack, and separated, screeching as she ripped it away. She held it out like an offering. “I could shove this up your ass and break it off.”
    He let go of Russell and leaned forward. “Is that a serious offer? I might enjoy it. I rather did the last time, back in the Crusades, though I had to pretend to die, along with the others.”
    He gently picked the long fat splinter from between her fingers and slowly slid it down his throat, like a sword-swallower. He closed his mouth, coughed once, and shrugged. “Do you want to threaten me with something more serious?”
    She shook her head slowly. “I don’t see why we have to be adversaries. We should learn from each other.”
    “I’m learning. You could be.” He gestured at the artifact behind her. “What did you mean by a ‘song’? You think you can communicate with it vocally?”
    “Acoustic vibration. You’ve been doing that with your solenoid.”
    “Why don’t you give it a try, then? Sing your little heart out.”
    She stood up slowly and backed away, toward the artifact, not taking her eyes off the chameleon and Russell. “If you touch him—”
    “I wouldn’t dream of it. Go ahead.”
    When she was next to the artifact, she reached up and touched its mirror surface—then recoiled, as if from an electric shock.
    “What is it?” Russell said.
    She shook her head and started to trill. It was an unearthly sound, and no human could have done it, glottal stops modulating one tone in rapid-fire Morse code.
    It was over in forty-five seconds. All three stared at the artifact; nothing overt happened.
    The chameleon rose and walked quietly over to stand next to her, Russell following just behind. “Looks like it didn’t work.”
    “I felt something. Give it time.”
    “We have plenty of time. Don’t worry.” The chameleon reached out and absently stroked her arm; gently took her wrist. “The arm’s all healed?”
    She cocked her head. “Of course.”
    “Pity.” He pulled down hard and the shoulder socket popped sickeningly, and the arm ripped off. An instant later her other hand came up and struck his face so hard the lower hinge of the jaw broke off and swung free.
    He staggered back and threw the arm away, and used both hands to press his chin back into place.
    “What are you doing?” she said. After an initial spray, the bleeding from her shoulder stopped.
    It took a moment for the jaw to fuse back into place. “I’m doing . . . what I’ve lived for, for thousands of years.”
    “Why?”
    “Only one of us per planet.”
    “I’m not one of you.”
    “But you are—” Russ leaped onto his back and put a scissor-hold on his throat. The chameleon threw him off like a doll, to crash against the heavy laser mount.
    “You are my only rival here. This is not personal. You just have to die.”
    She sidled around to where Russ was lying still. “It became personal when you hurt him. And I can’t die.”
    “I believe I can put you into a state equivalent to death. All I have to do is tear you into several pieces and make sure those pieces stay separate. For all time.”
    The changeling found a pulse in Russell’s throat and stood between him and the monster. “I could do the same to you.”
    “Not with one arm, I think. You won’t have time to grow a new one, and you can’t leave this room to do so at leisure.”
    She looked at the walls. “You’re wrong. I could be through that wall and in the water in seconds. I don’t think you want to face me in the water. Even one-armed.”
    “Leave and I’ll kill him. Your choice.”
    The changeling hesitated. Jack couldn’t let Russ live, no matter what happened to her.
    “Go ahead,” the chameleon said. “I won’t even try to stop you. You’ll be back, and meanwhile I’ll enjoy killing him slowly. He hasn’t been easy to work with.”
    She tried another tack. “I don’t understand you. You’re like a scientist who’s searched all his life for something, but when you find it, you want to destroy it without learning anything first.”
    “I learned enough before you left that bedroom to come here. And I’m no more a scientist than you are a woman.” He suddenly looked left. “Well, isn’t that cute.”
    The amputated arm was transforming itself into a weapon. The nails had become long metal talons and eyes had formed over two knuckles. Pseudopods along the sides were turning into insectoid legs.
    He turned back to the changeling. “Let me