Back | Next
Contents

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

icon


We piled back into the two vehicles, the Ylp I’d heard Scarf call Guard Three again riding backstop behind us, and headed out.

As I’d anticipated, Braun’s tour of Bilswift’s hotspots came up dry.

The same couldn’t be said about the weather. The wind seemed a little gustier tonight than it had been during previous evening rains, and even with the protection of raincoats and hats enough water got blown sideways to thoroughly soak everything from midshin on down. We put up with it for nearly two hours, until the rain was starting to subside, when Selene finally called it quits.

“There’s nothing here,” she told Braun. “All the scents have faded.”

“I don’t believe you,” Braun said flatly. “Tirano said he could pick up scents even a week later.”

“He was talking about inside scents or those on protected surfaces,” I told him. “Out here, with rain gushing down on everything, trace molecules get washed away pretty fast.”

“What then is your next plan?” Scarf demanded.

“Well, as long as Badgeman Zilor is blocking access to the spaceport, Tirano and Galfvi are effectively stalemated,” I said. I paused, pretending a new thought had suddenly occurred to me. “Unless . . . Braun, you said Lukki had a boat. Would Tirano or Galfvi have access to it?”

“They’re not supposed to,” Braun said, his voice deepening as he saw where I was headed with this. “But with those two, who knows? You thinking they might bypass Zilor and bring the package in from the river or ocean sides of the spaceport?”

“Theoretically, they still need to come out in the open to get to the Patth ship,” I said. “But if it has a back door that’s out of Zilor’s sight they might be able to pull it off.”

“Or they merely kill the badgeman and are done with it,” Scarf said impatiently. “That is the simplest solution to their problem. They have already killed Lukki and her servant. What prevents them from killing again?”

“The fact that they’re not stupid,” Braun said grimly. “Killing a badgeman is the one thing guaranteed to bring the whole Alainn legal system down on top of you.”

“It’s actually worse than that,” I said. “Right now, Zilor’s sitting at the edge of a spaceport, which puts it within Commonwealth jurisdiction. Among other things, that means expedited search warrants for everything in the immediate vicinity. I don’t know off the top of my head what the legal radius is, but it might include all or part of the Patth ship.”

“Your people could then search it without a warrant?” Scarf asked.

“No, they’d still need a warrant,” I told him. “But they could get it pretty much automatically and in a matter of minutes.”

Scarf made a sort of grinding sound. “They are Patth. They would merely appeal to their embassy, and the badgemen would be ordered away.”

“They could try,” I said. “But I doubt they’d get anywhere. Economic clout or no economic clout, Braun’s right. No one likes a badgeman killer. And I’m guessing that also includes the Patth.”

“So what’s the plan?” Braun asked.

“You scoot over to wherever Lukki’s boat is berthed and see if it’s still there,” I said. “If it is, great. Though even if it is I suppose they could grab someone else’s boat,” I added in a more subdued tone as if that, too, had just occurred to me. “Okay . . . let me think.”

“We waste time,” Scarf said impatiently.

“Thinking is never a waste of time,” I told him. “As my father used to say, Never deliberately play around with a blind alley unless there’s a nice café at the end of it. Braun, are the nighttime fishers already out to sea?”

“They should be, yeah.”

“So Galfvi probably wouldn’t want to draw attention to himself by heading down the river now. When do the morning fishers head out?”

“How should I know?” Braun said irritably. “Five, six in the morning, probably.”

“Good,” I said. “Then you and one of the Ylps need to be out on the river by then, watching the traffic and seeing if you can spot our wayward youths. While you do that, the other Ylps need to be in position to watch the spaceport in general and Badgeman Zilor in particular.” I made a face. “Just in case Tirano and Galfvi are stupid enough to take him out.”

“What about you?” Scarf asked suspiciously. “Do you mean to search the city without an escort?”

“No, we’ll save that search for evening,” I said. “And don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of doing it without you. No, Selene and I are going to head back to the Loporr colony and search—”

“To the colony?” Scarf interrupted.

“Yes, to look for a substitute package in case Galfvi and Tirano manage to sneak the original past you,” I said. “We’ll stay in touch so that if you intercept the original one, you can let us know and we can come back.”

“You think us fools?” Scarf demanded. “You think we will simply allow you to leave our sight?”

“Don’t worry, they’ll still be staying with us tonight,” Braun said. “Tomorrow . . . well, we’ll see about this field trip of theirs.”

I cleared my throat. “About that,” I said. “The staying with you tonight part. If Selene and I continue to stay away from the Ruth, eventually Kreega’s going to pull Zilor off stakeout duty and assign him elsewhere. Until you can set up to block the spaceport yourselves, I’m pretty sure we don’t want Zilor to leave.”

“What do you say?” Scarf asked.

“He says he wants to go back to his ship instead of your suite,” Braun said, his eyes boring into me.

“No,” Scarf said flatly.

“You’re not thinking this through,” I said. “Or else you’re forgetting our track record of being helpful and not running off. Remember that Selene and I got you into the Loporr colony, we got you out of the Loporr colony, and we went into the Ruth and came back out without calling the badgemen down on you.”

“Perhaps even now they watch at wait,” Scarf said.

“Or maybe we’re actually on your side,” I countered. “Willingly or otherwise. Aiding and abetting, remember?”

“We don’t want to see the Vrinks taken aboard the Patth ship,” Selene added quietly. Quietly, and very sincerely.

Of course, she was just as sincere about not wanting to see the Vrinks taken aboard a Ylpea ship, either. But I doubted Scarf would think that direction.

“Should you not instead concentrate your efforts on finding the package here in Bilswift?” Scarf asked.

“The scent is gone, remember?” I said. “At this point your best bet is to catch Galfvi trying to move it and take it away from him. If he instead decides to sit on it, or if you miss him, you’ll need the backup package we’re heading to the colony to get for you.”

“Very well,” Scarf said. “But you, Braun, will stand for their behavior. If there is betrayal, you will be first to die.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Braun said. Apparently, he was getting as sick of Scarf’s high-handedness as I was. “Don’t worry, I want you and your package off the planet as much as you do.”

“And Guard Three will accompany you,” Scarf said.

“Not a good idea,” I said, thinking fast. The plan—the real plan—was for Selene and me to get clear of Braun and the Ylps long enough to see if that other footbridge would lead us to the hidden portal. Having one of them tagging along would give us exactly zero chance of doing that. “There’s nothing you can do to help our search, and the more people we have up there the higher the chance someone will bump into one of the Loporri and end the day right then and there.”

“Nevertheless, he will accompany you,” Scarf said firmly. “Braun and Guard Two can watch the river alone.”

“Ah,” I said. “Actually, now that I think about it, that makes sense. The more people you’ve got loitering on watch, the more likely they’ll be spotted. In fact, Braun should probably watch the river alone. In fact, he’d probably prefer it.”

“What do you say?”

“I’m not saying anything,” I protested, looking sideways at Braun in a significant way that I hoped Scarf was smart enough to pick up on. “I’m just pointing out that we humans sometimes like to do stakeouts alone.”

For a moment Scarf looked silently back and forth between Braun and me. I held my breath, hoping he’d do the math that I’d tried to present to him: that Braun plus one Ylp could quickly become Braun plus no Ylp. If Galfvi and the Vrinks came into Braun’s possession, and with an alternate buyer already in town . . . 

Scarf turned away to face the other Ylps, and once again started blasting away with the ultrasonics. My teeth were beginning to hurt by the time the conversation ended. “You speak correctly,” Scarf said, turning back to me. “Guard Three will be better positioned to assist at the river. You and the Kadolian may go to the Loporr colony alone.” He pointed at me in a very human gesture. “But you will continue to leave your phones with us.”

“All right,” I said reluctantly, as if I wasn’t the one who’d maneuvered him into that decision in the first place. Out-humaning humans . . . and suspicion and paranoia were two of our most durable attributes. “I’ll just point out that if we don’t have phones we won’t be able to keep in touch with you. But if that’s what you want, it’s fine with us.”

“It is.”

“Okay,” I said. “One last point and warning. In the past I’ve found Patth to be very bad losers. If it comes down to you getting the package or neither of you getting it, they may well go with the latter option.”

“You speak of them destroying the package?” Scarf asked in clear disbelief. “That is barbaric.”

“Barbaric, selfish, and completely wasteful,” I agreed. “But that’s Patth for you. And when you say destroying the package you’re being more literal than you realize. One of their client species has a very nasty corona weapon they like to use on everything in sight. A couple of shots with one of those, and even a Vrink’s remains will be hard to identify. If they take the time to collect and bag the bones and ashes and toss them into the river, even Zilor’s enthusiasm might be hard-pressed to get enough evidence for a conviction.”

“A conviction would not be needed,” Scarf said coldly. “They would all die in agony for their destruction of our property.”

“Just as long as they don’t die in agony or anywhere else until we have a replacement package ready,” I warned. “Our best bet right now is to draw them out into the open. As my father used to say, Matching the bait to the fish takes thought and effort, but it saves you a lot of wasted time sitting in the boat. I’m thinking that in this case, the proper bait for Galfvi is a whole new set of Vrinks.”

“Which you are preparing to obtain for us,” Scarf said.

“Exactly,” I said, nodding. “As you see, we’ve got several options to play with. But they all start with Selene and me going up to the colony tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Braun growled. “You’ve sold us, all right? Get some sleep, then get us some Vrinks.”

“That’s the plan,” I said, taking Selene’s arm and heading us back toward our rental. “Good night, all. And trust me, this is going to work.”

We were a block away before Selene spoke. “You really think this plan is going to work?”

“Well, not the plan I spun for them,” I admitted. “The real plan is for us to try the skyway from Seven Strands leading toward the portal. If the bridge is still functional, it ought to get us over the Patth fence without getting caught.”

“Yes.” She was silent a moment. “What about the Vrinks?”

“First priority is to find the portal,” I said. “No arguments allowed. But after that, yes, next priority is to find a way to sink this triple-cursed slave trade.”

Slave trade?” she repeated, all but pouncing on the word. “You believe the Loporri are sapients?”

“Oh, they’re sapients, all right,” I said grimly. “You didn’t see the drawing of the bird in the bird-trap chamber. Luckily for the Loporri, I did.”

“There was a drawing of a bird?”

“Yep,” I said. “Same colors as the one that took a turn around the room, too. On top of that, on our final sneak through the lunchroom I saw one of the hunters busy slicing up one of the carcass’s legs, and it sure looked like he was trying to get a long tendon out in one piece. I’m guessing it was for a replacement crossbow string.”

“But that’s not how non-sapient hives work,” Selene said. “Each member has a rigid and well-defined job.”

“Hunters hunt, cooks carve up the kill, artisans turn the scraps and other parts into useful stuff,” I agreed. “And people like the Vrinks who are there to lure in useful prey usually don’t have the artistic bent to draw pictures.”

“Unless it was the hunter who would have been there with him who drew it,” Selene pointed out. “But either way, it breaks the normal hive pattern.”

“Yeah,” I said, feeling stomach acid churning in my gut. “And we got both of those tidbits with a single visit. There have to have been other studies, and those studies have to have found more evidence than we did.”

Over the sound of the car’s tires on wet pavement, I heard Selene’s sigh. “The silver-silk.”

“The silver-silk,” I confirmed, some of the acid burbling up the base of my esophagus. “There’s mountains of money to be made, and someone in Alainn’s upper echelons is getting paid a foothill or two for suppressing all this.”

“Sometimes I hate humans,” Selene murmured. “What can we do to stop it?”

“We start by blasting it with sunlight,” I told her. “We expose Lukki’s operation, haul Galfvi and Scarf and their respective gangs out into the open, and make so much noise that somebody who isn’t in cahoots with the cover-up will have to take notice.”

“Somebody like the admiral?”

“I doubt he’d be happy about getting dragged into the spotlight,” I warned. “Just on general principles, not even adding in his position with the Icarus Group. But he is the top name on my list. But like I said, first things first. I don’t suppose you were able to smell portal metal from Seven Strands or the Loporr colony, were you?”

“No,” she said. “But at both places we were a considerable distance from the fenced-off area. Once we’re inside I’ll have a better chance.”

“I hope so,” I said. “Braun and Scarf are already unhappy with us. We don’t want to have to stall to the point where they’re even less happy.”

* * *

The rain had stopped by the time we reached the spaceport. I thought about skipping the runaround stand where Selene usually parked and instead taking someplace closer to the spaceport. But there was always the chance for more rain or hail later in the night, and anyway Zilor was used to seeing our rental sitting there.

I also noted that the Ruth’s stern had sprouted scaffolding and that both the starboard and portside thruster casings had been partially opened. After two days of dithering over the status report I’d given them, the port repair team was finally on the job.

Though of course there was no rush on their part anymore, given that the port official had managed to find spots for the Ylpea and Patth ships that she’d wanted to boot us out for. The question now was whether we might find ourselves wanting to get clear of Alainn in a hurry. At the moment, with the ship wrapped in scaffolding, that would have to be our absolutely last-ditch option.

I pulled close to the curb and we got out. “Now comes the big decision,” I commented, easing muscles that were starting to stiffen from a day that had included way too much exercise. “Whether I’m too tired to eat, or too hungry to sleep.”

“Both will have to wait,” Selene said. She was standing by the runaround stand’s price board, her back unnaturally stiff, her eyelashes fluttering at high speed. “Tirano was here.”

“When?” I asked, hunger and fatigue abruptly forgotten.

“Within the past hour,” she said, leaning a little closer to the board. “And he left a message.”

I nodded. It was a technique Selene and I had employed on numerous occasions: trace out the letters of a message with a finger, and Selene could smell the pattern and read the message.

It was a good and useful trick, the most satisfying part being that even if someone else tumbled to it that knowledge would do them no good. There were no other known sapients or sufficiently sensitive mechanical devices that could duplicate the Kadolian sense of smell. The message would remain solely between Selene and me, and about all a spoilsport could do was cover it over with some other smell in hopes of burying the message.

Against someone with Selene’s skills, even that might not be effective.

“He says he’s by the dock at the northern edge of the spaceport,” Selene said. “He wants to know if we’ll let him back aboard the Ruth.” She turned to me. “He’s cold and frightened, Gregory.”

“Did he say that?”

“No. But he is.”

“Yeah,” I said, passing over the fact that by her own admission she wasn’t doing very well at reading the boy. Still, I could see overall misery creating a pretty significant tweak in anyone’s scent. “He’s one of yours. What do you want to do?”

She looked at me as if she thought I was joking. “Bring him aboard, of course,” she said.

“After he tried to get us killed?”

Her pupils flared with a rapid succession of barely readable emotions. “We bring him aboard,” she repeated more firmly. “I don’t believe he did that on purpose.”

“Okay,” I said hastily. I’d never seen Selene in this kind of mood, but it clearly wasn’t one I wanted to challenge without solid evidence.

And she might be right. The Loporr attack in the colony might have been an accident.

Though I was damn well going to get a plausible explanation before we served up any more chowder.

“I’ll go get him,” she said, poised to take off toward the north. “Can you make sure the back door is ready?”

“Sure,” I said. “So you’re going to head north to the river, then west to the spaceport, then south to the Ruth?”

“Yes,” she said, clearly anxious to get moving.

But also clearly waiting for my agreement. Motherly instincts or no motherly instincts—or whatever Kadolians had for strange children—she still recognized there were risks in what she proposed to do. If I told her no, she would abide by my wishes.

Me, I didn’t have a shred of nurturing instincts, Kadolian or human. What I had was an appreciation for the bird-in-the-hand scenario. As my father used to add, And when someone has figured out which bait to use on you, bear in mind that a clever mouse can sometimes steal the cheese out of the trap.

“All right,” I said. “Do you want to take the car? You could take it as far as you can and then continue on foot.”

She shook her head. “It’s not that far. And we don’t want Zilor to wonder what’s going on. Fruit and bird?”

“Fruit and bird,” I confirmed. Maternal pressures or not, at least she was still rational enough to set up one of our all’s-well codes. “Be careful, all right?”

“I will.” The urgency and apprehension in her pupils faded just far enough to allow in a little dark amusement. “You may have noticed that I’m difficult to sneak up on.”

“That you are,” I agreed. “Okay. Get moving before the sky decides to rain on you some more.”

She nodded, slipped around the far side of the runaround stand and disappeared into the night.

I took a slightly ragged breath and turned back toward the Ruth. Under most circumstances I’d have insisted on going after Tirano myself. But with another Kadolian involved—and with me far easier to sneak up on—it made sense for her to take point. And for her to do it all on foot.

And speaking of Badgeman Zilor . . . 

As usual, he was sitting in his unmarked ground car, facing toward me, probably in anticipation of our return. Once we were aboard, he would probably bring his car around and settle in behind our rental so he could watch both it and the Ruth’s entryway. I walked up to the car, gave him a casual nod, and started to pass—

And then broke stride, pausing as if he’d said something that I’d heard faintly through his closed window. I turned back to face him, leaning toward the window and frowning.

His window slid down. “Something?” he asked.

“Just wanted to say good night,” I said. I had no idea whether or not Braun had tailed us back to the spaceport, but if he was watching I didn’t want to look like I’d initiated this conversation, but rather that Zilor had wanted a chat. “How are things running?”

“Smoothly,” he said, his forehead creased slightly in bemusement. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” I said. “I was just thinking about that Patth ship over there. Wondering what they’re doing here.”

“You’d have to ask the port director.”

“Yes, I might do that,” I said. “I was just thinking. Patth ship, Patth fugitive—or Patth corpse, depending—and the ship crew just sitting there aboard.” I raised my eyebrows slightly. “They are just sitting aboard, aren’t they? Not out sightseeing or working lumber contracts or something?”

For a moment he studied me. “Let’s cut through the weeds,” he said. “What do you know?”

“I don’t know anything,” I said. “I’m just commenting on the coincidence of having Galfvi, Kiolven and Venikel, and now a Patth ship. Seems to me that Bilswift is getting awfully crowded with Patth.”

“They own the Spiral, or so they say,” Zilor said woodenly. “What are you suggesting?”

“Not suggesting anything,” I assured him. “Just thinking of the pattern I’ve seen sometimes in under-the-table businesses. Like, say, someone procures a valuable item, someone else comes in to verify the item and make payment, then someone else takes delivery.”

“No one follows the whole length of the transaction, so it’s harder to pin it on any of them,” Zilor said, nodding. “Just happened to be thinking about that?”

“Just happened,” I assured him. “Too bad you don’t have a StarrComm facility here or I could check the bounty listings.”

“Nearest is in Tranlisoa,” he said. “Only one suborbital from there to Bilswift—out at six in the morning, back at six at night.”

“Not terribly convenient,” I said. “But we can probably make it do.”

“If you want convenience, there are twelve daily shuttles from Cavindoss to various other cities,” Zilor offered. “Cavindoss is kind of a long haul—four hours by ground car—but you get more options. I don’t know which flights go to StarrComm cities, but you could look that up.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” I said. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Where’d Selene go?”

So he’d spotted Selene’s departure. I’d assumed he would, and figured he’d want to know about it. Fortunately, I already had a story ready. “She was wondering if someone could use the river to transport our theoretical package,” I said. “She wanted to see what the docks, ships, and general terrain looked like over there.”

“She couldn’t wait until morning?”

I snorted. “Really, Badgeman Zilor. Whoever heard of people skulking around being nefarious at eleven o’clock in the morning?”

He shrugged. “The smart ones might,” he said. “If only because people like you don’t expect them to.”

“Fair point,” I conceded. “Well, enough of the theoreticals. On to the practicals, namely food and sleep. See you around, Badgeman Zilor.”

He nodded, a new or at least rekindled fire in his eyes. “That I will, Bounty Hunter Roarke,” he said.

I continued on my way, and as I approached the ramp I glanced over my shoulder to see that he had indeed repositioned so as to face the Ruth. He’d been ordered to watch our ship, and he would do so until that order was rescinded.

But I’d bet large sums of money that while he watched he would also be having an interesting conversation with Detective-Sergeant Kreega.

Meanwhile, I had a ship to prepare for our wayward Kadolian’s homecoming. Best to be ready when Selene brought him home.

It would probably also be a good idea to make sure I was armed.


Back | Next
Framed