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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

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Dead.

I rolled the word through my mind a few times as I stared into the emptiness, listening to the sound, tasting the meaning. Dead.

Not powered down. Not damaged. Not even broken.

Dead.

Why had Selene used that word? Did she know something about the portals that I didn’t?

I pulled my arm back out and stood up. It felt strange and disrespectful, maybe even a little irreverent, as if I was just dismissing it. But I couldn’t think of anything else to do. “So what now?” I asked.

Selene was still staring into the opening. “I don’t know,” she said. “I suppose we have to tell the admiral.”

“Yeah,” I said. Briefly, I thought of Expediter Huginn, toiling away in the distance, wondering what he was going to tell his boss.

But that was his problem. I had a big enough collection of my own. “Well, unless his backup force has arrived we’ll need to get to a StarrComm center. It’s probably too late to do that today, but we can head out tomorrow.”

“In the Ruth?”

I chewed at my lip. With Graym-Barker’s hoped-for prize having turned into the Spiral’s biggest paperweight there was no need for us to stick around Alainn in general or Bilswift in particular. The sooner we got out of here, the better. That Ihmisit port official, Perrifil, would certainly appreciate having her landing pad back.

But at the moment the Ruth was still partially disassembled while the repair crews chased down the phantom problems I’d presented to them. Until they buttoned everything back up even atmospheric flight would be problematic. “We’ll have to take a shuttle,” I said. “Zilor rattled off a list of when and where they went, but I wasn’t really paying much attention. We can look up the schedules once we’re back aboard and have sorted through our options.”

I gestured behind us. “In the meantime, I guess we should throw some branches on top of the hole and head back to Seven Strands.”

“Yes.” For another moment Selene gazed at the portal. Then, she straightened up and nodded. “Yes. I’m ready.”

* * *

As anticipated, the uphill slope of the footbridge made the return trip tougher and feel longer.

But more oppressive, at least to Selene, was the forest scene we’d just left.

Me, I was more confused than dejected. As far as I’d ever heard—as far as I’d ever seen—the Icari portals were purely mechanical devices: physical mechanisms and electronics. Machines.

So how could one be dead?

Had Selene known something none of the rest of us did? Had she been speaking purely figuratively? Or was it simply that her English had momentarily failed her?

They were questions I needed to ask, wrapped inside a conversation we needed to have. But that was for later. Right now, we needed to concentrate on our uphill climb, get back to Bilswift and the Ruth, and figure out what to do about Tirano, Galfvi, and the rest of the rogues’ gallery we’d fallen in with. Time enough to talk once we were securely inside our ship.

We were a block away from the Ruth, the evening rain had started, and I was mulling over what I wanted for dinner when I spotted the group of dark cars clustered silently around the spaceport entrance.

As casually as possible I pulled over, bringing the car to the side of the road a hundred meters short of the runaround stand where we usually parked. “What is it?” Selene asked.

“We’ve got company,” I said, nodding toward the silent watchers. “Don’t know if they’re waiting for us, or for a warrant—”

I broke off, twitching reflexively to my right as something suddenly entered my left-hand peripheral vision. I turned to see Detective-Sergeant Kreega looking at me through the side window, her face stony. Huffing out a sigh, I slid the window down. “Evening, Detective-Sergeant,” I greeted her cheerfully. “What brings you out in the rain at this hour?”

“Like you don’t know,” Kreega ground out, gesturing at the back door. “Open up.”

I did so, and she climbed in behind me. “Not going to be much of a ride,” I warned. “We’re just going up there to the—”

“Not yet you’re not,” she cut me off. “Badgeman Station. I trust you remember the way?”

“Of course,” I said, giving Selene a sideways look. But her face was turned away, her pupils out of my view. “Do I get to ask what this is all about?” I asked as I pulled back onto the street and did a U-turn. The waiting cars, I noted, had now come to life and were forming themselves into a conga line behind us.

“You can ask yours after we’ve asked ours,” Kreega said. “And I suggest you watch your answers. Unless you want to end up sleeping in a couple of my cells tonight.”

* * *

Fifteen minutes later we were at the station. Kreega escorted us inside and to a compact meeting room that was nevertheless probably the largest one in the place. She seated us at the far end of the oval table and took up position beside the door.

A minute later, the rest of the crowd filed in.

I’d expected Zilor and another pair of Bilswift badgemen to join us. I wasn’t really expecting Detective-Lieutenant Sovelli to have flown in from Cavindoss for whatever mysterious occasion this was, but it hadn’t been out of the realm of possibility.

But the formal-suited Commonwealth official and her two aides were a complete surprise.

The seven of them sorted themselves out around the table, ending up with Zilor and Sovelli sitting on either side of Selene and me, the Commonwealth official at the far end directly across from us, and the rest filling in the other chairs. Kreega remained standing by the door, as if concerned that I might try to make a break for it through all the other people.

“State your name, please,” the official said.

“I’m pretty sure you already know it,” I said. “Why don’t we start instead with you stating yours?”

An uncomfortable ripple ran around the table. But the official merely gave me a frosty smile. “Third Consul Rebekah Townsend, Department of Human-Sapient Relations.” She raised her eyebrows slightly. “And I wasn’t talking to you, Mr. Roarke.”

I frowned at Selene. She was sitting quietly, but there was a fire in her pupils that I’d rarely seen before. “I am called Selene,” she said. “Do you wish my full name?”

“Yes.”

Selene rattled it off, all eighteen syllables of it. No one bothered to write it down; presumably, they already knew that one, too. “I assume you’re here about my petition?” she continued.

“We are,” Townsend confirmed. “You claim to have evidence that runs contrary to all established data.”

“I have evidence that runs contrary to all official policy,” Selene corrected. “In this case, I submit that the data and policy are misaligned.”

“And you, Mr. Roarke?” Townsend asked. “What do you say?”

“I fully support Ms. Selene,” I said, wondering what in the Spiral I was supporting her in. What the hell was this petition she’d filed, and when the hell had she filed it?

“So you also claim the Loporri are sapient beings?”

With a supreme effort I kept my mouth from dropping open. So that was the stick Selene had poked into the hornet’s nest currently buzzing around us. “Selene?” I murmured.

“Last night,” she murmured back. “While you were asleep.”

I nodded. Now that I thought about it, I had half woken up in the middle of the night with the sense that someone was moving around the ship. But no one came into the dayroom, and I didn’t hear any follow-up noises, and I’d drifted back to sleep.

I wished she’d at least talked to me first. I could have told her this wasn’t a smart move, especially not with the rich and powerful of the Spiral obsessing over silver-silk. I’d have told her there were better ways of going about it.

And she would have reminded me right back that if the rich and powerful were doing something evil, they deserved to have a stick poked in their nest, hornets or not.

“Mr. Roarke?” Townsend prompted impatiently.

But whether or not I agreed with her methods and timing, Selene was my partner, and I was absolutely not going to leave her twisting in the wind alone. “I do indeed, Consul,” I said. “More than that, I believe Ms. Selene and I can prove it.”

“I would be most interested in seeing this evidence,” Townsend said. “Tell me where it is, and I’ll send my people to bring it to me.”

“Yes,” I murmured, a sudden uncertainty creeping into my gut. The rich and powerful . . . and clichéd though it might be, government officials were all too often the epitome of both.

Did Townsend want the proof so she could send it up the ladder to the Alainn government and the Commonwealth’s Chief Representative? Or did she want it so that she could make it quietly disappear?

“Yes,” I repeated. “About that. The proof is in the Loporr colony a few kilometers up the mountains from here. It’s obviously too late to go there tonight, but we’d be happy to show it to you first thing in the morning.”

For a moment Townsend didn’t reply, her eyes flicking back and forth between us, a measuring look on her face. “Yes,” she said. “Well, here’s the problem. Ms. Selene strongly implied in her petition that her evidence was in fact in Bilswift, not some cave warren halfway to Cavindoss. I flew all the way from Quisivoa specifically to review her claim, and I’m not at all pleased at being strung along this way. Do you have any evidence here, or don’t you?”

“The evidence is in the Loporr colony,” Selene said. “Surely after coming all this way, Consul Townsend, you can wait a few more hours to see it.”

“I’m afraid you overestimate the strength of citizen petitions.” Townsend pushed back her chair and stood up, her two aides hastily following suit. “As well as underestimating the number of demands on a Commonwealth official’s time. Good evening.” She turned toward the door—

“Fine,” I said. “You want evidence? We’ll show you.”

Townsend paused and looked back. “Here?”

“Here and now,” I promised, my mind racing. All we had were the three Vrinks that Lukki had hidden somewhere in Bilswift, and we didn’t really have them.

Or did we?

“But we’ll need an hour or two to prepare,” I added. “Surely you can give us that much more of your time.”

Again, she gave us that measuring look. “Let me guess,” she said. “You don’t actually have this evidence in hand?”

“It’s close,” I assured her. “We just need some equipment from our ship, and in a couple of hours we’ll hand it over to you. While you wait, may I suggest Panza’s Café? They do a very serviceable Earth barbeque.”

“We’ll wait here,” Townsend said, her face going a little stonier. “Detective-Sergeant Kreega, you’ll assign one of your people to accompany them.”

“I’ll go myself,” Kreega said, her face and voice grim.

“Good,” I said briskly, standing up and gesturing Selene to do likewise. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Sovelli start to stand as well, then subside. “We’ll let you know when we’re ready.”

“One hour,” Townsend warned. “After that I leave, and Ms. Selene’s petition leaves with me.”

We were back in the car, with Kreega once again sitting behind me, before the detective-sergeant spoke. “You want to tell me what’s going on here?” she asked.

“Selene filed a petition, and we’re going to offer supporting evidence,” I said. “Weren’t you listening?”

“I was listening just fine,” Kreega growled. “I also know a con game when I smell it.”

First Braun, now Kreega. Con-game smelling must be a local hobby. “It’s not a con game,” I assured her. “Well, maybe a little. What do you know about what’s going on in your city?”

“I know everything,” Kreega said, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice. “I can’t prove any of it.”

I looked sideways at Selene. She kept her eyes on the road ahead of us, but gave a small confirming nod. “Would you like to?” I asked Kreega.

For a few seconds she was silent. “It can’t be done illegally,” she warned. “I can’t make it stick if I get the evidence illegally.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered,” I said. “What do you know about Consul Townsend?”

“Not a thing,” Kreega said. “You really think the Loporri are sapient?”

“We’ve seen evidence of it,” I told her. “Whether we can get the Commonwealth to agree is an entirely different story.”

Kreega snorted. “Don’t know why. They throw around decisions like that all the time.”

“This one might be a little different,” I said. “But let’s cross that footbridge when we get to it. Selene and I will need a few minutes in the Ruth, then we’ll be ready to go.”

“Just don’t call in another petition,” Kreega warned. “You created enough of a rat’s nest with this one.”

“No more petitions,” I promised. “As for the rest . . . ” I smiled tightly. “I think we can persuade Consul Townsend to handle that herself.”

* * *

I’d told Townsend that we needed to pick up some equipment. Fortunately, we mostly just needed to get to our phones.

The first call was quick, though not without requiring some fancy verbal footwork. The second, to Graym-Barker’s backup agent—a man named Maijo—who’d finally arrived in Tranlisoa took more time and considerably more persuasion. For that one I needed to pull out every talking point in my repertoire, add in several invocations of the admiral’s name, and slather on a layer of pure unadulterated bluff. But in the end, he reluctantly agreed to cooperate.

At least, I was pretty sure he agreed. There was probably still a thirty percent chance he would reconsider as soon as my dulcet tones were out of his ear.

But it was the best I had. If he reneged . . . well, I still might be able to make this work.

Explaining the plan to Selene and convincing her to give it a shot fell somewhere between those two extremes.

The evening rain had started by the time we rejoined Kreega. “I was starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost,” she growled as we dripped our way into the car. “Where are we going?”

“Not sure,” I said. “Selene?”

“We’ll start in the northeast part of town and work our way south,” she said. Outwardly, her voice and demeanor were calm, but I could see the tension in her pupils. “With the wind coming from the west, that gives us the best chance of finding them.”

I nodded and turned the car that direction. Consul Townsend had given us an hour, and we’d already used up a third of that. If she was a stickler this whole thing might still go sideways.

But if I was right about her I was pretty sure she would wait as long as it took.

I still didn’t have a full grip on the timeline surrounding Lukki’s murder, but it hadn’t sounded like she’d had a lot of time to move the Vrinks from the blue-and-white-fenced house to their final hideaway. With that in mind, I set up the first part of our grid search in the neighborhoods near that area. Under normal circumstances, this kind of search would be the proverbial slice of quiche, but with the rain doing its best to wash all relevant aromas out of the air we needed to get closer to the source than we otherwise would have.

We’d covered a fifteen-block area and were dangerously close to Townsend’s deadline when we found them.

“Are you sure?” Kreega asked, frowning out the window at the dilapidated house I’d now parked in front of. “This place looks like it’s been abandoned for years.”

“Probably exactly what Lukki hoped everyone would think,” I told her, eyeing the house and assessing my entry options. Straight through the front door, I decided. “Note that what Selene is smelling is cooking odors. The Vrinks are cooking.

Kreega muttered something under her breath. “Unless someone is in there with them.”

“No,” Selene said. “They’re alone. They’re also using the same mix of spices and fungi I smelled at the colony.”

“Something else to add to our sapient attributes list,” I said, opening the door. “I’m going to check things out. You give Townsend a call and give her the address.”

“Wait a minute,” Kreega called after me as I got out of the car. “You can’t go in there. Interfering with the scene will give Townsend grounds for dismissing the petition.”

“Trust me,” I said, giving her my best confident smile before heading across the small lawn to the front door. It was locked, but under the circumstances I figured that Lukki hadn’t had time to be clever.

I was right. Two minutes later I found the key in an artificial rock slab partially shielded from the neighbors’ view by a ragged bush. I opened the door to a familiar whiff of pungent cooking aroma, and slipped inside.

They were back in the kitchen, just as I’d envisioned: three Vrinks, seated facing each other in an equilateral triangle formation, eating with their fingers from a steaming pile of spiced mushrooms on a flat board on the floor between them. They looked up as I entered, then returned to their meal. The room was dark—the building’s power had probably been cut off years ago—but there was enough light coming in through the dusty windows for me to see the glints from the threads of silver-silk hanging from the lumps in their arms and torsos.

Time to get to work.

I had finished my task and was waiting by the front door, watching through the peephole, when a car rolled up behind ours and Townsend and Sovelli climbed out. Kreega and Selene were waiting for them, and the three humans held a brief discussion before Kreega led the way through the matted ground cover to the house.

I waited until they were under the roof overhang, then opened the door. “Greetings,” I said, backing up to let them in. “Thank you, Consul, for giving us the few extra minutes we needed.”

“The wait had better be worth it,” she warned. “Where are they?”

“Kitchen,” I said, gesturing down the hallway. “Afraid there’s no light in here.”

“Not a problem,” Sovelli said, producing a flashlight. He flicked it to lantern mode, bathing the entryway in soft light. “Down there?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, again pointing the way. “They’re eating, so try not to disturb them. Cooked food, you’ll note,” I added.

“Which you could easily have prepared for them,” Townsend said tartly as she followed Sovelli down the hall. “I know procedure out here isn’t exactly professional, Detective-Sergeant Kreega, but you should at least have known better than to let him come in alone.”

Kreega didn’t answer, but flashed me a dark look as she passed. I gestured to Selene, and we joined the procession.

We entered the kitchen to find things exactly as I’d left them, except that the three Vrinks were now surrounded by Townsend, Sovelli, and Kreega. For a moment the three of them just stood there, staring at the aliens. “These are them?” Townsend asked. “These are the Loporri?”

“Vrinks, actually,” I corrected. “An important subset of the Loporr species.” I braced myself. “Selene?”

“Consul Townsend,” she murmured. “And Detective-Lieutenant Sovelli. Not Detective-Sergeant Kreega.”

I nodded. That was pretty much what I’d expected.

“Consul Townsend and Detective-Lieutenant Sovelli what?” Townsend asked, frowning at Selene.

“I asked Selene earlier to tell me which of you were surprised by the Vrinks’ appearance,” I told her. “From the changes in your scent, she concluded it was the two of you.”

“What are you talking about?” Sovelli demanded, dropping his hand to his holstered GovSev 6mm.

“I’m talking about the Vrinks,” I said, feeling a flood of revulsion as I looked at both him and Townsend. An official supposedly dedicated to the Spiral’s sapients, and a badgeman supposedly dedicated to serving all in his community. “I’m talking about the beetle parasites that should have threads of silver-silk dangling from them, and your surprise that those threads aren’t there. I’m talking about the reason very bad people like Lukki kidnap Vrinks and sell them all across the Spiral, and why some of the people at the very top of the food chain have been making sure the Loporri and Vrinks remain classified as non-sapient so that the quiet trade remains only moderately illegal.”

“You say there should be silver-silk threads,” Kreega said, still clearly trying to catch up. “What happened to them?”

“Simplest thing in the world,” I said, producing the small set of scissors I’d brought from the Ruth. “I cut them off.”

“What?” Kreega asked, still clearly confused. “Why?”

“Because each of them is worth thousands of commarks,” Townsend said, glaring at me.

“Which I don’t actually care about,” I told her. “What I cared about was catching you and Sovelli knowing something you weren’t supposed to know. Weren’t you listening?”

“Oh, we were listening,” Sovelli assured me darkly. “Unfortunately for you. Because your little trick is going to cost you.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe not.”

“No, it definitely is,” Sovelli said, drawing his GovSev. “Sorry, Detective-Sergeant Kreega. You were just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“You really think you can get away with murdering three people, one of them a badgeman?” I asked, watching Selene out of the corner of my eye. So far, nothing. “I don’t care how high the rot goes, the people making money from the silver-silk trade are going to stick their necks out only so far for you.”

“You might be surprised,” Sovelli said. He gestured back toward the front door. “No, actually, you probably won’t. Not going to live long enough. Okay. Back in the car, all of you. Time to take a little drive up the mountain.”

“Where we’ll come upon the perfect place for a tragic accident, I assume?” I said, not moving. Where the hell were they? “I don’t think you understand just how hard a sell that’s going to be. Experienced drivers like Detective-Sergeant Kreega don’t just drive off the road, you know.”

“She won’t be driving,” Sovelli said. “You will. And when she tries to get you to pull over—well, things like that happen sometimes.”

“Yes,” Selene murmured.

Finally. “I suppose.” I cleared my throat. “Speaking of being surprised . . . Braun?”

“Yeah, we’re here,” Braun growled as he and the four Ylps appeared in the doorway leading from the kitchen to the house’s garage.

Their weapons pointed squarely at us.


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