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CHAPTER TWELVE


“How many?” I murmured to Selene as we paused just inside the door.

“Two,” she murmured back.

I nodded, looking around at the paintings and art shelves adorning the rare-wood paneling on the walls. A man who would design his mansion with a secret tunnel to someone else’s house would certainly not pass up the chance to put in hidden observation boxes to make sure his visitors behaved themselves. Whether or not Gaheen had found the tunnel, he’d certainly found the boxes. “Where?”

“I can’t tell from here,” she said. “I’d need to walk the perimeter.”

“Don’t bother,” I said. It had been obvious from the outset that Gaheen wouldn’t put us in his office without someone watching to see if we’d come here in search of mischief. Where exactly in the room those watchers were located wasn’t important. “I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t playing my acts of goodwill to an empty room.”

Flanking the door were a pair of small display tables holding vases of cut-crystal flowers. Casually, I drew my plasmic and laid it beside the vase on my side of the door, then took Selene’s arm and steered us toward the ornate desk and the cushy chairs facing it. “On second thought, go ahead and do a circle or two. See if you can get a baseline.”

“All right,” she said. “Do you have a plan for getting out of here?”

“Depends on how knowledgeable and cooperative Mr. Gaheen is,” I said. “Maybe we can also get some answers before we leave.” I nodded toward the lines of wall art and the carved liquor stand set against the wall behind the desk. “Baseline, please.”

She nodded, her pupils nervous, and started looking and sniffing her way around the room. I picked one of the guest chairs and sat down, doing some art-appreciation looking of my own but mostly keeping an eye on the walls where the two guards were hidden. Hopefully, my voluntary disarming would encourage them to stay put.

Selene had finished her sweep and taken the other guest chair, and we’d been sitting in silence another five minutes when the door behind us opened and Gaheen walked in. I looked over my shoulder as he walked past the crystal flowers, casually scooping up my plasmic without even breaking stride. He circled around the desk to his chair and sat down, setting the weapon on the desktop in front of him. “So,” he said calmly. “Dr. Moriarty, is it?”

“Not really,” I said in the same tone. “But I did help with the drug Dr. Livicby was testing in there.”

“Did you, now,” he said. “Since when do bounty hunters have medical degrees, Mr. Roarke?”

So Gaheen was indeed clever, or at least the people he’d put in charge of digging through official data bases were. Good. “We’re retired as bounty hunters, sir,” I told him. “We’re crocketts now. Trailblazers,” I added, in case he wasn’t familiar with the more colloquial term. “Selene and I are the team who found the sporete that was the basis for the drug you were just testing.”

“Where?”

“A planet in the NK-177-D system,” I said. “I assume Mr. Varsi mentioned the drug’s origin when he gave it to you to pitch to the Najik.”

Gaheen’s expression didn’t change. But I wasn’t expecting it to. Faces did what their owners wanted; body aroma, not so much. “Actually, Selene’s the real expert at picking out these things,” I added, turning my head to smile at her.

And in her pupils I saw the complete lack of reaction that I’d expected. Like Gaheen’s face, his scent had also remained unchanged when I dropped Varsi’s name.

For me, that was the final confirmation. Time to grab Floyd and Cole and get out of here.

“I’m gratified the drug was so successful,” I said, standing up. “With your permission we’ll call Mr. Varsi with the good news. Thank you for your time, Mr. Gaheen—”

“Sit down,” Gaheen said flatly.

Fighting back a grimace, I did so. “Tell me something, Mr. Roarke,” Gaheen said, his voice cooling a few degrees. “Certainly I know your part in the drug’s development. Mr. Varsi told me about you, and at any rate I know everything that passes through Huihuang. So tell me this: If you’re here to check on the drug, why didn’t Mr. Varsi tell me you were coming?” He waved a hand around the office. “Perhaps you’ll start by telling me how you got into my mansion without my guards seeing you.”

I huffed out a dramatic sigh, mentally crossing my fingers. I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to play this card. “My apologies for the deception, sir,” I said. “I should have said Selene and I were mostly retired from the bounty hunter business.”

“Not exactly startling news,” Gaheen said, giving my plasmic a sharp tap with his finger for emphasis. “Your target had damn well better not be someone in my house.”

“No, sir, not at all,” I assured him quickly. “It’s a Najik named Villivink who’s loosely connected with Dr. Livicby. When we found out Livicby was going to be working the drug test, I thought we might be able to make contact with him and worm out some information. The fact that we also had a unique connection with the drug gave us a tag we could play off of. He and the others haven’t left yet, have they?”

“Not yet,” Gaheen said. “Not until Yolorist’s payment has been fully transferred. You still haven’t explained why Mr. Varsi didn’t tell me.”

“Again, my apologies, sir, but that was at my request,” I said. “There were questions about some of the others involved in this test, and I didn’t want to take a chance on alerting Livicby.”

“And you thought my people might spill information to them?” Gaheen asked, a fresh undertone darkening his words.

“No, sir, not at all,” I assured him. “But if they knew Livicby was under special watch someone might have given him a look or made some odd gesture that would have warned him. The person we’re after is very astute, and we have to assume he’s trained his people to the same standard.”

Gaheen rumbled something in the back of his throat. “What’s Mr. Varsi’s interest in this situation?”

“As far as I know, he’s not directly connected,” I said, keeping it vague. “But he clearly has a strong interest in the case. Enough interest to give me the back door into your mansion.”

Gaheen’s eyes narrowed. “Where is it?”

“First floor, southeast corner,” I said. “It’s a bit hard to describe; I’ll show you before we leave. In the meantime, we’d very much like a private word with Dr. Livicby before he and his patron take off. Is there a room nearby where we could talk?”

For a moment Gaheen just gazed at me. I held his eyes, feeling fresh sweat breaking out on the back of my neck. He didn’t believe me, at least not fully. But there was nothing in my story he could point an accusing finger at. It would take some long-distance conversations before he could either confirm or unravel it.

As my father used to say, If you can’t get someone to buy your story, at least try to get him to rent it.

“The room they’re in right now would work,” I suggested into the silence. “You could clear everyone else out, we could have our talk, and your people could go back to rearrange the furnishings afterward. Or we could let them finish that task and I could talk to Livicby later.”

In Gaheen’s eyes I caught the subtle flash I’d been hoping for. Some people had a strong aversion to the excuse word later, and I’d correctly tagged him as one of them. “You can talk to him now,” he said. “There’s another meeting room connected to the test room—door’s across from my office. You’ll use that.”

“Thank you,” I said, standing up. I paused, waiting for him to order me down again. But apparently this time we were being allowed to go. I gestured to Selene to also stand and held out my hand. “May I . . . ?”

“When you give me your report on Livicby,” Gaheen said, laying his hand on my plasmic. “And after you show me where you broke into my house.”

“Of course, Mr. Gaheen,” I said. “I’ll go get Dr. Livicby.”

“Just go to the room,” Gaheen said. “I’ll have him delivered to you.”

“Excellent,” I said, giving him a slightly malicious smile. “Always useful to see someone’s reaction when he goes into a room and sees someone he isn’t expecting. This shouldn’t take long.”

“It had better not,” Gaheen warned. “I’ll speak with you later, Mr. Roarke.”

I’d hoped Gaheen had bought into my story enough to let Selene and me go into the other room without an escort. No such luck. As we stepped out into the hall, one of the door guards detached himself from his section of wall and joined us, moving ahead of me to take the knob and open the door. “After you, Mr. Roarke,” he said, stepping to the side and gesturing us in.

“Thank you,” I said, walking past him. “You can return to your post now.”

“Mr. Gaheen wants me to keep an eye on things while you talk to the Najik,” he said.

“I asked to speak with the doctor alone.”

“Mr. Gaheen decided otherwise.”

I felt my lip twist. At least Gaheen wouldn’t miss him. While we’d been inside the office the hallway had sprouted another dozen guards, probably summoned to this part of the mansion in preparation for the Najik group’s imminent departure. Just one more reason to collect Floyd and Cole and get the hell out of here.

“I understand,” I said as Selene and I walked into the room. “But it’s a matter of getting Livicby to speak freely.”

“I won’t say a word,” the guard assured me as he walked in behind us and flipped the door closed behind him. “I’ll be practically invis—”

I had just a glimpse of Cole stepping into view from his hiding place behind the door, his right arm snaking around the guard’s throat, his left hand slapping a gray patch onto his neck on top of the carotid artery. The guard got in about two seconds of useless struggle before sagging abruptly in Cole’s arms.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” Floyd snapped in a stage whisper from behind me as Cole lowered the guard silently to the floor.

I turned to see him rising from concealment behind one of the chairs. “Mottola and Fulbright needed our help to get the other end of the tunnel door open,” I explained.

“So where are they?”

“Still down there,” I said. “We came to find you, and then I couldn’t figure out how to send the car back down to them.”

“Then you’re an idiot,” Floyd growled. “And now you’re stuck here, too. The damn Najik locked the bathroom door on us.”

“Not a problem,” I assured him. Squatting beside the unconscious guard, I pulled out his keycard and handed it to Floyd. “Unlock it, then get in the car and get out of here. You too, Cole.”

“Like hell,” Floyd said, starting toward the bathroom door. “We’ve got a job to do.”

“The job’s gone bust,” I said, moving to catch up with him. “The hallway out there is full of guards. You won’t get two steps.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll make it,” Floyd said grimly, not slowing down.

“It’s also not necessary,” I added. “Gaheen hasn’t gone rogue.”

That one finally got through. He slowed and turned halfway around to frown at me. “Mr. Draelon said he was.”

“Mr. Draelon was wrong,” I said.

“Or maybe you are,” Cole said.

“Fine—assume I’m wrong,” I said irritably. We didn’t have time for this. “In that case, you’re welcome to come back after we collect Dent, the way you were supposed to. Right now, you can’t do anything except leave or get yourselves killed. Your choice.”

Floyd’s eyes flicked over my shoulder to Cole, then lowered to the unconscious guard. Whether he believed me or not, he was smart enough to recognize that with one of Gaheen’s people down for the count our clock was ticking. “Fine,” he growled. “You two, then us.”

“No, you first,” I said. “Mottola may not be happy if we pop in without you. Anyway, Selene and I have another way out. We’ll meet you at the Ruth.”

Floyd’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not thinking about running out on us, are you?” he asked, his voice deceptively smooth.

“With Fulbright’s lock on the pilot board?” I retorted. “Not a chance.”

Floyd’s eyes narrowed a little more. “Fulbright put on a lock?

“You didn’t know?” I asked. “I assumed you told him to.”

“You assumed wrong.” Floyd’s lip twisted briefly, then he gave a quick nod. “Fine. Come on, Cole.”

Floyd unlocked the bathroom door, and we all filed through. The place was still empty, but with Livicby presumably on his way it wouldn’t be empty much longer. Floyd popped open the elevator door and he and Cole squeezed into the car. “We’ll see you back at the ship,” he said, the words as much of a threat as they were an order. “Watch yourselves.”

“You too,” I said.

Floyd nodded and pushed the proper buttons, and the car started its slow descent. I took Selene’s arm. “Get ready,” I whispered. The car continued down, cutting off our view of its occupants.

And as their faces finally disappeared Selene and I stepped silently onto the car’s roof. I pulled the hidden door closed, and we were once again in darkness.

I felt the brush of Selene’s hair on my cheek as she moved her lips close to my ear. “What now?” she whispered.

“We get off at the first floor,” I whispered back, touching my left-hand fingertips lightly against the wall moving past us. “It’ll be on the fly, but we should have enough time for you to scope it out before we get off. Certainly at the speed this thing makes.”

“And then?”

“We walk out the closest door.”

I couldn’t see her pupils in the dark, but I could imagine the surprise and concern that were undoubtedly there. “You’re joking.”

“Not at all,” I said. “Mottola told us there were around twenty guards, most of them inside. You saw the hallway we just left—there have to be at least fifteen of them already up there, with probably more down the hall watching Livicby and the Najik pack up their gear. Add in a couple more to bolster Gaheen’s personal guard, because he still doesn’t trust us, and that’s most of them. There’ll be a few still watching the grounds, but if we get out before anyone finds the one Cole clobbered they shouldn’t have any reason to stop us.”

Shouldn’t?

“I know, it’s a bit risky,” I conceded. The texture of the wall changed, and I flicked on my flashlight at its lowest setting. Sure enough, we were passing the second-floor exit. I watched the door move slowly past, counting down the seconds to myself. It would be tight, but we should have enough time to make our exit. “Alternatively, if there are too many people around but there’s a place to go to ground we’ll see if we can get the car back before anyone comes by.”

“I like that one better,” Selene said. “Especially since when the alarm goes off the search will probably start near Gaheen’s office and work its way outward.”

“Rippling its way down here last,” I agreed, nodding. As my father used to say, If you can’t duck the grenades completely, at least try to pick a spot between them. “You know how to call the car?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Okay,” I said. “Plan B it is. Coming up on the first floor now. Get your sniffers ready.”

I watched the wall; and there it was, the first-floor exit. I crouched down, waiting . . . and as the door handle came into reach I got a grip on it and gave it a twist. It gave a snick, and I eased it open a couple of centimeters. “You’re on.”

I looked up to see her face stiff with concentration, her nostrils and eyelashes beating their familiar pattern. The door and handle slowly rose, and I rose from my crouch along with it, wondering what the holdup was. If Selene didn’t give me an okay in the next few seconds there wouldn’t be time for us to both get out before the literal window of opportunity was gone.

And then, she gave a sharp nod. I shoved open the door with one hand, giving her a push at the small of her back with the other. She stepped up and out of my way through the exit; with literally centimeters to spare, I joined her.

A minute ago I’d wondered what the holdup was. Now, I understood. We’d emerged into a large walk-in pantry, the subdued smells of fruits, vegetables, and spices filling the air around us. No wonder it had taken her a minute to sort through all of it.

I was checking the pantry for exits when Selene stepped behind me, reached into the empty elevator shaft, and pressed her fingers against two spots on the side wall. “It should come back up as soon as Floyd and Cole get off,” she said.

“Good,” I said, reaching for my plasmic before remembering it was still in Gaheen’s office. “Probably be another minute at the least. Feel like a snack?”

Selene’s gaze flicked around the room. “No, thank you.”

“Because raw rice is a lot tastier than you might think,” I said. There were two exits from the pantry, I saw, one into the rest of the mansion—probably the kitchen—the other an armored door that probably led outside.

“I’ll take your word for it,” she said, her pupils puzzled as she continued sniffing. “Gregory, there’s something else in here. Something that smells . . . I think it’s a form of explosive.”

I felt a shiver run up my back. “There may be heating tray fuel in here,” I reminded her, starting a second visual sweep of the room. “Or stuff for flambé blowtorches.”

“This isn’t fuel,” she said, turning her head slowly. “It’s definitely something faster-burning.”

I scowled. No wonder Floyd hadn’t kicked up too much of a fuss about leaving the job unfinished. He’d stopped in here on his way up and arranged a little backup plan. “Can you tell where it is?”

She pointed toward the armored exit door. “Somewhere over there.”

I headed off through the narrow aisles between the shelves. A bomb that was designed to blow the door, maybe? In which case, it might not be so much a backup plan as a diversion. Not designed to bring down the house and kill everyone in it, but something to get the guards looking for an outside threat while the real danger was already inside.

And if I was setting such a charge . . . 

There it was, right where I would have put it: a wide, flat blast ribbon slid into the gap under the door, largely unnoticeable until the door was opened, and even then visible only if someone was looking down. I didn’t know how big the charge was—there were several different formulas out there—but Floyd was undoubtedly experienced enough to pick one capable of blowing the door off its hinges.

I crouched down, focusing my flashlight on it. The detonator was at one end—a remote, I saw, instead of timer or vibrational. That explained why it was still here: Gaheen’s phone blanket would block any activation signals. Carefully, I unplugged the trigger and tossed it behind one of the shelves where it couldn’t do any damage, then started pulling the strip itself out. There were a couple of small tears in the protective wrap, I noticed as it came free, which was where the smell had come from that Selene had picked up.

“It’s here,” Selene stage-whispered. “Gregory? The elevator’s here.”

“Keep it there, will you?” The strip was wedged pretty tightly, and I didn’t dare open the door to make it easier to move. I tugged at it, alternating between one end and the other.

“Gregory!”

All at once, it came free. Rolling it into a bundle, I sprinted back to the elevator. Selene was already inside, her fingers on the controls. I ducked in behind her, pulled the outer door closed, and we started down.

“What are you going to do with that?” she asked in the darkness.

“Well, for starters, make sure Floyd doesn’t know I untrapped his booby,” I told her, unfastening my left shirt cuff and pushing up my sleeve. There were any number of places where a blast ribbon could be hidden for smuggling purposes, but one of the most common was on the bomber’s arm. Smoothing it out, I began wrapping it around my forearm.

“Are you putting it around your arm?” Selene asked.

“It’s as good a place as any,” I said. “And it’s safer for me than it would be for most people. Artificial arm, and all that.”

“Only if you’re holding the arm straight out,” she reminded me. “Otherwise, the blast would seriously damage your hip, thigh, and ribs.”

“Well, yes, there’s that,” I conceded as I finished with the wrap and pulled my sleeve back down. “You should probably also make sure to walk on my right side until we get back to the Ruth and I can get rid of this.”

“Gregory—”

She broke off as light suddenly appeared at our feet. We’d reached the bottom of the shaft and the tunnel. “Don’t shoot,” I called softly toward the sweeping flashlights. “It’s us.”

“No kidding,” Floyd growled. “What the hell was that all about, Roarke?”

“Can we get to the Ruth before we have this talk?” I asked, squinting into the glare as the car came to a halt. “And will you get those lights out of my face?”

“Yeah,” Floyd said. “About that.” One of the lights intensified; and suddenly there was a gun muzzle pressed against my chest. “Whether you two even get to the ship is up for grabs right now,” he continued, his voice gone deadly. “I want to know why you kept us from doing our job.”

“I already told you,” I said. “Your job was to take out a rogue member of Mr. Varsi’s organization. Mr. Gaheen isn’t a rogue.”

“And what makes you think so?”

“Point one: He’s following all of Mr. Varsi’s protocols,” I said. “You pointed that out yourself: extra guards, no one present during negotiations except him and the other person, phone shielding that whole time. You don’t bother toeing the line when you don’t care anymore what your boss thinks.”

“He’s following those protocols because they make sense,” Cole put in.

“Maybe,” I said. “Point two: He knew who I was. He recognized that—”

“Wait a minute,” Floyd cut me off. “You talked to him?”

“Yes,” I said. “He recognized my name—”

“How the hell did you get to talk to him?”

“He invited me into his office,” I said. “You want me to tell this, or not? Thank you. He recognized me as the person who’d found the biochemical basis for the drug that he was selling the Najik. That’s probably why he wanted to meet me.”

You came up with a drug?” Cole asked skeptically.

“Selene and I are crocketts, remember?” I said. “Finding promising spores and seeds is part of our job. But Mr. Gaheen also knew I was a bounty hunter. More than that, I made sure during our chat to drop a couple of vague hints about working with Mr. Varsi to root out a target involved with this drug sale.”

“Though you told him the person of interest was one of the Najik,” Selene murmured.

“Which I did deliberately,” I said, “because that kind of obvious deflection wouldn’t fool anyone. Not someone with a guilty conscience, anyway. The point is that he doesn’t have one.”

“One what?” Floyd asked.

“Guilty conscience,” I said. “I defy anyone who’s betraying his boss to sit in a room with a bounty hunter who’s on a job and not wonder if that boss is onto him.”

Floyd snorted. “Like you could tell? Come on. I’ve seen Gaheen play poker—his face doesn’t give anything away.”

“No, I couldn’t tell,” I agreed. “But Selene could. And she did. Selene?”

“There was no reaction from him,” Selene said. “No fear, no guilt, not even any concern. Gregory is right. If he’d gone rogue, there’s no way he wouldn’t have shown something.

“And there’s one other point,” I said. “The drug he was selling was a medicinal one, something for treating a Najiki disease. Yet when Selene and I brought back the sporete Mr. Varsi said that it could possibly be made into a street drug for Narchners. If Mr. Gaheen was looking to maximize his profits—and I figure financing a mutiny is majorly expensive—he would have tweaked the formula and approached a Narchner buyer.”

For a moment Floyd was silent. “That it?” he asked.

“That’s it,” I said, feeling my chest trying to shrink back from the muzzle still pressed against it.

“And we should all just take it on your word?” Cole asked.

“I guess that’s up to you,” I said.

“I guess it is,” Floyd said. “Mottola, you’re being awfully quiet.”

“Yeah,” Mottola said, his voice thoughtful. “Here’s the thing. I’ve seen Selene at work, back when she found the way into this tunnel. I don’t know how she does this stuff, but if she says Gaheen didn’t react . . .  I think we can believe her.”

“And one way or another, we’re running out of time,” I said. “Gaheen will have found the drugged guard by now, and he won’t have found Selene and me, and I’m guessing he’ll be a mite perturbed. If we need to discuss this further, can we please do it in hyperspace?”

Floyd was silent another couple of seconds. Then, to my relief, the pressure was removed from my chest and his flashlight angled downward out of my eyes. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s go. But this isn’t over.” He pointed his light down the tunnel. “You and Selene are in front.”

* * *

Given how neatly the tunnel access system had reset itself after we were all underground, I’d worried a bit that getting the trapdoor open from this end might be a problem. But the designers had that covered. There was a release handle on the door’s underside that unlocked that section of floor and let me push it up out of our way. We all filed out into the ruined building and Cole pushed the door back into place. There was a soft click, and it was once again locked against casual entry.

I’d expected Two Degree Square to be swarming with Gaheen’s people by the time we were once again out in public. But either he’d missed a bet or else was slower on the uptake than anyone high up in Varsi’s organization had any business being. We made our way through the square to the runaround parking area, grabbed ourselves one, and headed back toward the Ruth.

It was as Mottola was guiding us through the outer archway that I spotted a pair of crumpled human figures at the edge of the square, partially concealed by a line of bushes.

Apparently, Gaheen had been every bit as fast and smart as I’d expected. He just hadn’t been as fast and as smart as a quietly determined Kalix.

I’d been concerned that clearing out our path might seriously delay Ixil’s return to the ship. Fortunately, it took Fulbright a few minutes to unlock the pilot board, after which I had to help Mottola coax the engines back to full life. By the time we were finally ready to lift, I could see Pax’s nose as he lay watching us from behind one of the bridge ventilation grilles. Ixil was aboard, and all was well. Or at least as well as anything could be under the circumstances.

Especially since one of those circumstances was bound to be a fresh search of my clothing and person. I managed to preempt that with a quick trip to the bathroom, where I stripped the blast ribbon off my arm and stuffed it behind one of the ventilation grilles. By the time Floyd had finished his pat-down and sent Mottola to make sure I hadn’t hidden any contraband in the bathroom, the ribbon was long gone.

Fifteen minutes later, we were once again safely back in hyperspace.

* * *

I’d hoped Floyd would reconsider or even forget his threat to drag me over a few additional coals after the Gaheen debacle. But no such luck. One day into our trip to Gremon, just as I was starting to breathe a little easier, he suddenly hauled me into the dayroom, and with Cole and Mottola sitting silently by he made me run through everything that had happened from the moment Mottola and Fulbright left the Ruth on their impromptu rescue mission.

Fulbright himself, I noted, was conspicuous by his absence.

I did as requested, tracing my steps from the Ruth to our final reunion in the tunnel. I described everything I saw and everything I did, added in Selene’s own observations, and reconstructed conversations verbatim to the best of my recollection.

I did, of course, omit all mention of Ixil and the blast ribbon, which Pix had returned to me in the middle of the night, and which was currently hidden beneath a couple of coils of tubing in my bioprobe prep room prison.

For a few seconds after I finished Floyd just stared at me in that unreadable way of his. I sat quietly, waiting him out, and at last his lip quirked. “I spent part of yesterday looking up what the Spiral data lists have on Kadolians,” he said. “You know how much is there?”

“Very little?” I suggested.

“Very damn little,” he said. “Where the hell did she come from?”

I waved a hand vaguely. “Around.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s all I’ve got,” I said. “I know she’s part of a small colony, and that her people move around a lot.”

“And can figure out stuff no one else can,” he said sourly. “What is it, some kind of telepathy?”

“Mottola already asked me that,” I said, nodding at Mottola. “All I know is that I have to be with her for it to work properly.”

“It’s a para-cohesive baseline,” Mottola spoke up.

“A para-cognitive baseline,” I corrected. “Whether it’s true mind-reading or a consolidation of a hundred small factors that most people don’t even notice—” I shook my head. “All I know is that it works. If Selene says someone’s gone this way or that way, or is calm or nervous, that’s the reality of it.”

“Yeah,” Floyd said. “Still sounds like bull to me.”

“Agreed,” I said. “But as my father used to say, One man’s bull is another man’s grilled dinner. So are we finally done with this? And don’t say for the moment.

“For the moment,” Floyd said. “Who is Easton Dent?”

“I really don’t know,” I admitted. “He found my name somewhere and messaged me a few times wanting to talk about some project or other.”

“Something called Icarus, maybe?”

“Yeah, that was one of the names he dropped,” I said, long practice enabling me to keep my face and voice nonchalant. McKell hadn’t really given Draelon that name, had he?

No, of course he hadn’t. Floyd must have gotten it from someone else.

Nask, maybe? Selene had said there’d been a Patth aboard Floyd’s ship at one point.

Of course, she’d also said that Patth wasn’t Nask. Still, it could presumably be one of Nask’s associates.

Assuming sub-directors even had associates. The Patth were pathologically secret about their internal politics, but enough details had leaked out over the years that we knew they were nearly as cutthroat with each other as they were with everyone else in the Spiral.

Still, even if Nask didn’t have allies at his same level he presumably had subordinates and minions. After all, he was a sub-director. Surely that meant he was sub-director of something.

“So what is it?” Floyd persisted.

“What is what? Icarus?” I shook my head. “He didn’t go into details.”

Floyd grunted. “You don’t know a hell of a lot, do you?”

“Not a damn thing, really,” I agreed. “That’s why I need to meet with him. Something big is on the horizon, and I want to find out what it is.”

“Like everyone else, it seems,” Floyd said. “Where are you meeting him?”

“A place called the Roastmeat Bar in South Joapa,” I said. “Seven o’clock in the evening, local time. I assume you’ll all be coming with me?”

“Any objections?” Floyd asked.

“Aside from the likelihood that you’ll spook him?”

“We’ll be very discreet,” Cole promised.

“Not sure how well that’s going to work on a paranoid like Dent.”

“It’s not up for discussion,” Floyd said firmly.

“Fine,” I said. “Just remember that if he rabbits, you’ll be the ones who have to tell Mr. Draelon.”

“We’ll get him,” Floyd said. “All right. It’s four days to Gremon. Mottola, you’ll look into this Roastmeat Bar place; Cole, you scope out the area around it and find us some good vantage points. You, Roarke, will figure out how you’re going to approach him. We’ll have another talk the day before we land. Any questions?”

“It’s more a requirement than a question,” I said. “Selene and I will be approaching Dent together, which means we need to work together to sort out a plan and discuss variants. That means we’ll need to do a lot of talking, which means not keeping us apart like you’ve been doing since Marjolaine.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Floyd said. “Also sounds wrong. You don’t need to talk, because she won’t be going.”

I felt my eyes narrow. “What are you talking about? I need her there to read Dent.”

“No, because you’re not reading Dent,” Floyd corrected. “All you’re doing is picking him up and hauling him aboard the Ruth.

I looked at Cole and Mottola. Neither looked surprised by Floyd’s announcement. “What if he’s got some underhanded trick planned?” I persisted. “We won’t know until it’s too late.”

“In that case, I’m sure Mr. Varsi will give you a nice funeral,” Cole said.

“Yes, he’s very good at that,” Floyd agreed.

“Floyd—”

“Let me make it clearer,” Floyd cut me off, his voice gone stiff. “I don’t trust you to behave yourself out there. So we’re keeping Selene aboard to make sure you don’t wander off.”

“We could both have wandered off on Huihuang,” I reminded him. “We didn’t.”

“No, and we appreciate that,” Floyd said. “But the Ruth was locked down, and you told Mr. Draelon that you couldn’t approach Dent without it. On Gremon you’ll have all your little eggs in the same little basket.”

Again, I looked at the other two. But it was clear their minds were made up. “Fine,” I growled. “Can I at least ask you not to leave her with Fulbright? I don’t trust him.”

“No, she can stay alone,” Floyd agreed. “Properly restrained, of course. With our restraints this time.”

“And with the Ruth locked down, I assume?”

“Goes without saying,” Floyd assured me. “But this time I’ll have Mottola handle it. Anything else?”

I sighed. “No, that should do it.”

“Good,” Floyd said briskly. “Then it’s back to your quarters. Cole, keep him company. Dinner’s in two hours—Cole will bring it to you.”

Three minutes later I was in my bioprobe prep room cell, the hatch closed behind me. Leaving me silence, solitude, and a shredded plan.

Floyd was right. The idea had been for Selene to be with me when we contacted Dent, and for all three of us to then fade rapidly into the sunset. Now, that scenario was off the table.

Or at least, it was going to be a whole lot trickier.

I waited until I was sure Cole wasn’t coming back. Then, I settled down beside the floor vent of the Ruth’s air system. “Pix?” I murmured. “Pax? One of you tell Ixil that he and I need to talk.”


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Framed