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CHAPTER TWENTY


We spent the next two days in Pollux with Dent, keeping him fed and hydrated, helping him and his swollen ankle to his chemical toilet when necessary, and in general nursing him back toward health. I expected him to be a rotten patient, but was rather pleasantly surprised that he turned out to be docile and cooperative.

Of course, that could have just been the painkillers.

I went back to Castor twice during that time to check in with Ixil, update him on Dent’s recovery, and to see if Floyd’s island-wide search for us had wandered anywhere close. So far it hadn’t, but Ixil was clearly not going to let his guard down. He’d already rigged up defenses around an impromptu fortress he could retreat to, using the two Iykam corona guns and the blast ribbon I’d left him. He also had Pix and Pax running a continual scout pattern to alert him if anyone came too close. I assured him that once we got Dent mobile again we could contact Graym-Barker, and that I fully expected both Gemini portals to be safely within the Icarus fold within the next two weeks.

Ixil, needless to say, was less optimistic about that. “I trust you haven’t forgotten that there are other parties to this venture, none of whom is likely to bow out gracefully,” he reminded me.

“I haven’t forgotten,” I assured him. “But there are ways to deal with them.”

“Ways you’d care to share with your associates?”

“Sorry, but there’s a little more information I need before I can put together a coherent plan,” I said. “Speaking of which, can I take a couple of Dent’s pictures?”

“Certainly, if you need them,” Ixil said, eyeing me closely. “What do you intend to do with them?”

“It occurred to me that it’s only an assumption that Dr. Riley started out here at Castor,” I pointed out. “It could also be that he found Pollux first and only then found out that Popanilla was the home of its counterpart. I thought I might show his picture around Malfatti City—discreetly, of course—and see if anyone recognized him as poking around the Erymant Temple ruins.”

“I don’t think that’s a wise idea,” Ixil warned. “It could attract attention you don’t want.”

“Like I haven’t already had plenty of that,” I said sourly. “But yes, I’ll be careful. And of course I’ll make sure no one follows me back to Pollux. I assume the pictures are still in the safe?”

“Most of them, yes,” Ixil said, still looking unconvinced. “I took out a representative sample for safekeeping. Help yourself. Just be careful not to close the door.”

“Oh, you got it open?”

“There was an inside latch trigger Pax was able to get to,” he explained. “I also reattached the back under the assumption we might need to move the safe at some time in the future, or possibly need to quickly seal it against an intruder.”

“I assume you first detached it from the tree. How did you get the back on?”

“I used one of the corona guns to spot-weld the back in place. But again, don’t close the door. Right now, Dent’s the only one who can open it without a great deal of effort.”

“True,” I said. “Though he does owe us a favor or two, of course. I’ll bring you another report tomorrow.”

I found the safe door ajar with a sturdy stick wedging it open to make sure the wind or some animal didn’t unintentionally close it. I picked out the pictures I needed, then headed back to Castor.

Five minutes later, I was once again in Pollux.

“How’s the patient?” I whispered as I crossed to where Selene was watching Dent asleep on his new camping mattress.

“He’s better,” she said. “Less snoring, which I think means his nasal cavities are clearing up. Why do humans have those, anyway?”

“Lots of theories,” I said. “Not sure anyone really knows. I’m heading out—keep an eye on things here.”

“You’re going outside?” Selene asked, her pupils surprised and uneasy. “What if Balic and his people are still around?”

“I doubt they’re still around here, on the temple grounds,” I said truthfully. “But I’d certainly appreciate you checking for any unwanted company before I commit myself. Come on, it’s getting late out there.”

I got the hatch open and waited the few seconds it took Selene to confirm that no one was wandering around nearby. I rolled through the hatch, got my bearings, and headed for the edge of the grounds. I saw no one until I reached the low wall marking the temple grounds boundary and crossed into the busy city beyond.

I had to walk three blocks before I found an available runaround. I fed in the bills and drove another ten kilometers to Edgeling Kai, the high-end restaurant in the Malfatti City Center district where I’d reserved an interior private dining room. I was nearly an hour early, so I parked the runaround a couple of blocks away and made a casual walking survey of the area, paying special attention to the exits and the availability of cover and escape options outside each of them.

Edgeling Kai’s own parking lot was supplemented by a larger municipal lot beside it, the two open spaces separated by a row of bushy trees that looked like birch but smelled strongly of lemon. It was currently the quiet hour between normal commercial business closing and the time most residents headed out for dinner and both lots were only sparsely occupied. I checked them out from a distance, paying special attention to the four closed vans and other large vehicles.

Finally, as the sky darkened into early evening, I went inside the restaurant and let the receptionist show me to my dining room.

It was laid out exactly as I’d specified: a single six-seat table, draped with an elegant black tablecloth with six place settings that included entrée and salad plates, wine and water glasses, and a full set of flatware that included rather intimidating serrated steak knives. I’d specified that the tablecloth should be large; the Edgeling Kai staff had gone beyond my expectations, the cloth draping all the way to the floor on all sides. Not a setup that would sit well with my guests, I knew, and it took me a few minutes to drape the extra length and width on top of the table, moving the place settings so they wouldn’t be covered.

An elegant arrangement that would perfectly complement the dinner I’d ordered. It was a shame that none of us were likely to be around to eat it. Hopefully, the staff would enjoy the treat.

I was seated facing the door from the far end of the table when my guests arrived.

“Good evening, Sub-Director Nask,” I greeted him, rising from my seat. A universal gesture of respect, as well as an equally universal proof that I wasn’t holding a weapon. Nask himself didn’t seem to care much about either, but the three Iykams who crowded into the room behind him definitely did. I also got the sense that they were disappointed not to have an excuse to shoot me down on sight.

“Good evening, Mr. Roarke,” Nask said, sending a quick look around the room. “I assume your associates are patrolling outside?”

“I brought no associates, Sub-Director,” I said. “I wanted to talk to you in private.”

“Really,” Nask said, the Patth version of a frown settling onto his face. “That may have been a mistake.”

“I suppose we’ll find out,” I said, feeling a small shiver run up my back. “I invited you here to offer you some information that I think will be of profit to you.”

“And to obtain some information for yourself, no doubt?”

“If such an exchange seems reasonable to you, yes,” I said. “But let’s start by seeing what I can offer.”

“Very well,” Nask said, a little stiffly. He stepped to the end chair facing me and sat down. As he did so, I noticed his eyes flick to the empty space under the table, confirming there were no surprises there. Just as well that I’d folded over the tablecloth. “Please,” he added, gesturing me to also sit.

“Thank you.” I resumed my seat. While we’d been talking the three Iykams had spread out to the sides of the room where they could see me and also watch the door. Under the circumstances, I appreciated their thoroughness. “I have a picture here—”

“Before we begin, I have a question,” Nask interrupted. “In your message you specifically asked for me. Why?”

“I had information I needed to share with a Patth,” I said. “You’re the only one I knew I could trust.”

“Really,” Nask said, gazing intently at me. “Such a statement begs further explanation.”

“Allow me then to offer it,” I said. “A few weeks ago I was in the Red Poppy taverno on New Kyiv, hoping to meet with someone who’d been messaging with me. A few hours after I left the taverno a human male was found dead with my contact’s identification, his face burned off by a couple of plasmic shots. Just for good measure, my wallet was also found at the scene.”

“I assume from your phrasing that the victim was not your contact?”

“Correct,” I said. “It appears that someone else was also looking to connect with this man. Unfortunately, his agents accidentally grabbed an innocent bystander who happened to fit his general description and was wearing similar clothing.”

“What does this have to do with me?” Nask asked.

“It struck me afterward that there should have been no reason to kill him,” I said. “Assuming it was a group of Iykams who grabbed him—”

“Have you proof that Patthaaunuth or Iykams were involved?”

“No, not at all,” I assured him. “Hear me out, please. Assuming it was a group of Iykams who grabbed them, all that their supervising Patth needed to do was check out their prisoner without himself being seen, realize a mistake had been made, and turn him loose. There would be no repercussions—no offense, but I doubt a human could pick a given Iykam out of a lineup even if they were all wearing name tags. But this Patth made the mistake of walking in on the prisoner, probably gloating, and only then realized he had the wrong man.”

“You still have no evidence the Patthaaunuth were involved,” Nask said stiffly.

“No, but I know the Patth are interested in him,” I said. “My contact was Easton Dent. I assume you’ve heard that name?”

Nask’s expression didn’t change, but one of the Iykams gave a small twitch. “I have,” Nask said calmly. “Again, why me?”

“Because walking in on a prisoner without double-checking his identity was a stupid thing to do,” I said. “You’re the only Patth I know personally who’s not that stupid. Ergo, you’re the only Patth I know wasn’t involved.”

For a long moment Nask just stared. Then, almost unwillingly, the Patth version of a smile touched his expression. “Your logic is hardly solid,” he said. “But your conclusion is indeed correct. I was not, in fact, involved in that incident.”

“Do you know who was?”

The smile disappeared. “No,” he said, his voice going dark. “But we mean to find out. It’s unacceptable for a high-ranking Patthaaunuth to be involved in unnecessary killing.”

“Glad to hear it,” I said. So it had been a Patth and his attendant Iykams who’d killed the stranger in the New Kyiv morgue. I’d been pretty sure, but it was nice to have confirmation.

Though having Nask all but admit it was something I hadn’t expected. Maybe he was ready to build at least a tentative working relationship with me. More likely he was just playing friendly in hopes of keeping me relaxed and off-balance until I spilled whatever information I’d brought to share.

In that case, I hoped he was ready to be knocked a little off-balance himself. “Now that that’s out of the way, I have something less pleasant to discuss,” I said, easing my hand into my jacket pocket. “I have a picture here I want to show you.”

Nask nodded and gave a small hand signal to the Iykams. Just the same, I kept my movements slow as I pulled out the picture of the Patth Dent had shot and slid it across the table. “Do you know him?”

Nask stared down at the picture, his fingers pressed against the tabletop. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Conciliator Yyng. Where did you—?”

He looked up sharply. “This is a death photo.

“Sadly, it is,” I confirmed. “And no, I didn’t kill him. Nor was I there when it happened.”

“I find that difficult to believe,” Nask bit out. So much for the friendly working relationship. “Conciliator Yyng’s mandate should not have brought violence upon him. Furthermore, he was last known to be on Popanilla, from where you sent my invitation to this place.”

I winced. I’d forgotten that the Patth probably had a backdoor into StarrComm, just like they did with most other major electronics and security systems in the Spiral. “Conciliator Yyng died five months ago,” I said. “I was nowhere near Popanilla at that time. What do you mean, his mandate? His mandate for what?”

“That is internal Patthaaunuth business,” he said shortly. “What do you know about his death?”

“Absolutely nothing,” I told him, frowning. The Patth internal operations and government were shrouded in fog as far as the rest of the Spiral was concerned. But I’d spent a lot of time with Nask, and I was pretty good at reading his face and vocal tones. Adding in the fact that Dr. Riley had been an Icarus researcher—

“They took the portal mandate away from you, didn’t they?” I said. “After Firefall, the Director General took you off search duty and gave that job to Yyng.”

If there was a signal I never saw it. But suddenly all three Iykams had their corona guns drawn and leveled. “Who spoke to you of the portal mandate?” Nask asked, his voice almost too low to hear. “Tell me who spoke of that.”

“No one spoke of it,” I said between stiff lips. “It’s all right there. The fact you didn’t know Conciliator Yyng had disappeared—you’d have been more in the loop if you were coordinating a portal hunt. The fact that you came here alone to talk to me—if you were still hunting portals you’d have whistled up an army of Iykams, and I’d already be a prisoner aboard your ship. And the fact that it’s been two days since my message, and yet that same army of Iykams hasn’t descended on Popanilla. So if you aren’t going to get credit for whatever Yyng found, you aren’t going to lift a finger to help him? Or rather, help whoever now has the mandate?”

For a few thudding heartbeats he just stared at me. This time I did see the signal, and the Iykams’ weapons disappeared again into their robes. “Again, your logic and conclusions are flawed,” he said reluctantly. “Even a sub-director must present cause in order to requisition additional Iykam support. But more than that, you do me a severe injustice if you believe I am motivated by recognition or reward. Patthaaunuth officials are not permitted to expand outside their mandates without the express authorization of the Director General.”

I frowned. “Are you saying that if you happened to trip over a portal tomorrow, you couldn’t do anything about it?”

“Any Patthaaunuth without a specific mandate cannot act directly,” Nask said. “He could only send a report and request expansion or transfer of mandate. But such a decision would require time, and in that interval overt action could not be taken.” He paused. “That inaction is precisely what I am doing right now, since I now have proof that there’s a portal on Fidelio.”

I felt my stomach knot up. “What makes you think there’s a portal here?”

“Your presence at this table,” Nask said. “You called from Popanilla, yet are on Fidelio two days later. That trip is impossible by normal spacecraft. When it was still possible that I would be meeting a representative instead of you personally, I had no evidence. Now, I do.”

“Not necessarily,” I said, keeping my voice casual. “There are at least a dozen places within a two-day flight of Fidelio. The other portal could be on one of those.”

“True,” Nask agreed. “Another reason to delay making a report. Still, I expect your superiors would be upset to learn you’d given the Patthaaunuth such valuable information.” He paused expectantly.

I gazed at him as the pause stretched out. Was he actually suggesting . . . ? “Are you trying to blackmail me?”

“You said we were here to exchange information,” he reminded me. “I merely seek an additional bit of data in exchange for not filing a report on you and Fidelio.”

“Ah,” I said. “Yes, I suppose that makes sense. All right. Ask me your question, and I’ll see if I can answer it.”

“I’m certain you can,” Nask said. “Tell me where Luko Varsi is.”

It was about as off-the-edge question as I could have expected. “I have no idea,” I said reflexively. “What in the world do you want Varsi for?”

“If you don’t know, there is nothing more to discuss,” Nask said, standing up. “Farewell, Mr. Roarke—”

“Wait a second,” I said, quickly rising to my feet. The Iykams’ guns came out again, but I barely noticed. “I said I don’t know where he is. I didn’t say I couldn’t find him.”

Nask eyed me a moment, then resumed his seat. “Continue.”

I sat down again, too, my mind spinning as I tried to think this through. “All right,” I said. “I assume this pertains to the scheme he had of getting hold of Patth pilot circuitry and feedback systems so they could be implanted into his face and he could then fly Talariac-equipped ships. Is that correct?”

“What my question pertains to is of no importance,” Nask said tartly. “Tell me how to find him.”

“Ah,” I said, eyeing him closely. The question had mostly been a stalling tactic to buy myself a few more seconds to organize my thoughts. But his reaction was clear evidence that I’d hit something sensitive. “I’m sorry, but I thought the Patth settled with him months ago.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because that’s what I was told,” I said, trying to remember Draelon’s exact words. Tell me, how would you respond to the charge that you betrayed him to the Patth? “I was accused of betraying him to the Patth. I can’t think why the person who said that would have phrased it that way unless the Patth had already caught up with him.”

“Who spoke that to you?”

“His name’s Draelon,” I said. “I don’t think I ever heard his first name.”

“Manx,” Nask said thoughtfully. “Manx Draelon. I assume he learned of that situation from Luko Varsi himself?”

“I don’t think so,” I said, again searching my memory. “It sounded to me like the piloting gear was a deep, dark secret that Varsi wouldn’t have told anyone.”

“Even his closest associates?”

Especially his closest associates,” I said. “Whatever he was planning, no one else was supposed to be in on it. I assume that whoever the Patth was who confronted Varsi also wouldn’t have talked to anyone else?”

“No Patthaaunuth would have been directly involved,” Nask said. “The message would have been delivered by an Expediter.”

“Of course,” I agreed, shivering a little. I’d had enough contact with the Patth’s cadre of black-ops agents to last me two or three lifetimes. “As long as we’re on the subject, what exactly would the protocol have been for an infraction this serious?”

“There are several options available,” Nask said in a tone that suggested this wasn’t the sort of thing the Patth usually discussed with outsiders. “A warning could be issued under circumstances that would show that a second, more lethal confrontation couldn’t be defended against.”

I nodded. That would fit with Varsi disappearing so deeply underground that even Selene hadn’t been able to sniff out a trace of him. The Expediter had shown he could get to him at any time, and Varsi had exercised the proverbial better part of valor.

“A physical or electronic attack against possessions or business assets would be another possibility,” Nask continued. “The underlying purpose of such a demonstration is to show the target the error of his actions, remind him that a more crushing punishment can be administered, and offer the chance for restitution.”

I felt myself sit up a little straighter. “Restitution?”

“Of course,” Nask said. “The Patthaaunuth are at heart businessmen. We would prefer to regain our losses, or at least to minimize further outlay of time and resources.”

“Yes, the scorched ground approach seldom accomplishes very much,” I murmured.

“Unless a highly visible warning is necessary,” Nask said. “Even then, there are usually less expensive ways to achieve that purpose.”

“Yes. Interesting,” I said. “So what’s the message you’re trying to deliver to Manx Draelon?”

“I have no message for him,” Nask said. “I merely seek to locate Luko Varsi through him.”

“But you do have a mission on Brandywine,” I persisted. “Something included in your new mandate, I assume.”

Nask himself didn’t react. But once again, that same Iykam gave a little twitch. “You’re mistaken,” Nask said. “I haven’t been on Brandywine. Nor does my current mandate require me to be there.”

“Come now, Sub-Director,” I admonished gently. “Lying doesn’t become you.” I pointed to the Iykam. “And he really needs to work on his inscrutability. Come on—what can it hurt to tell me what’s going on? There’s a good chance that I can help you with it, in fact.”

“I doubt that, Mr. Roarke,” Nask said, his official expression coming down across his face like a heavy curtain. “Nor can I conceive of a situation where you would even make such an offer.”

“It’s not that outlandish,” I objected. “As long as you’re not actively hunting portals there’s no reason we can’t work together. Or, you know, as long as you’re not trying to kill Selene or me.”

He inclined his head politely. “Farewell, Mr. Roarke.”

“And speaking of killing,” I said as he started to turn around, “I believe there are a number of people outside the restaurant whose goal is to kill me. Along, probably, with everyone else in this room.”


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