Crystal Heat

7

Eyes mean as snake’s if still a touch blurry from the stunner, Harmon twisted his wrists against the comealong tapes. “You’re dead. I’ll find you…”

“That’s a stupid thing to say.” The distorter in the suit hood deepened and roughed her voice. “Gives me a good reason not to want you healthy or whole.”

“If you’re after the money, why didn’t you just take it and go? You want my ship?”

“Only one thing I want and that’s the girl.”

“Huh?” His face went totally blank for an instant. “What girl?”

She ground her teeth together, his body shouted to her what she didn’t want to hear. He didn’t know what she was talking about-which meant she’d spent months of travel and a year’s worth of computer time on University for nothing. Less than nothing. Clinging to a last sliver of hope, she said, “Three months ago you landed a cargo on a world called Hutsarte. The Chief of Security put a young woman in your custody and told you to take her somewhere. I want to know where.”

“You’ve got mold in your head. Yeah, I dropped off cargo all right and picked up some, too, but no femme. Don’t like femmes on my ship. Bad luck.” He blinked at her a moment. “What femme’s this and how come you want to know?”

“The Kliu bounty, fool. Ten thousand gelders alive, zip dead.” She didn’t try to disguise her disgust with the situation and could hear it even in the gravelly tones of the distorter. All she could do now was getout of there as clean as she could. “Reason I’m telling you, is you’d pick it up anyway the first Pit you tie-down at.” She swore as she glanced at a readout she kept concealed in the palm of her gauntlet so he wouldn’t see it was an ordinary air sniffer. “Li’l Henry here says you truthspeaking so hail and farewell, I’m off.”

“Ee! Don’t leave me tied like this.”

‘Time keyed, Harmon. So contemplate your sins and cultivate the virtue of patience and in around twenty minutes the ties fall off.” She backed from the Bridge, and went running for the maintenance hatch and the sled.

Drone: Shadith to Excavations Ltd/Digby

… no question he was telling the truth. Spla! he was perfect for the part, everything I would have postulated were I creating him. Well, enough self-justification. I thought the Jilitera the next most likely, but I’ve gone off pride in my logic right at the moment. Also pride in what you delight in calling my ingenuity. So. I’ve reread the data collected so far and twisted it every way I can think of. Grinder Jiraba was convinced the woman was taken offworld and I see no reason to dispute that. He wasn’t a man to make that kind of mistake or one to bring in strangers to do something he could handle himself. So, the Jilitera are it. If you’ve got a way to pry information out of them, now’s the time to use it. If not, locate the Jherada for me and I’ll see what babble can do.

Drone: Digby to Shadith aboard Backhoe One. Install enclosed Shriek ID on ship. Take name Drina acMorah, use enclosed materials for the role. Meet one Jaskara at the Crowndome, The Tricky Deacon Pit. Ninth hour of the Pit diurn. Week’s window, so don’t linger on the way. Ask him no questions other than the location of Lylunda Elang. If he says he doesn’t know, believe him. Tell him nothing about yourself.

Shadith finished the terse message, raised her brows. “Curiosity up. Slap curiosity down. For the moment. Anyone want to wager Jaskarah is as phony as Drina acMorah? No? Wise. Deacon, hm? More travel. I’m getting really tired of all this crawling about in the ’split. After I quit, maybe I should drop over to Vrithian and vegetate in Harskari’s garden.” She sighed. “I’d like that, I think, mucking about with plants and trading lies with Willow and ol’ Beetle Bodri and watching Sunchild airdance. For a while, anyway.”

A blue-black woman with eyes that glowed like yellow fire above a discreet breathing mask strolled across the lobby of the Crowndome. She wore a skintight sheath of garnet avrishum, a silver turban that completely covered her hair, and silver, elbow-length gloves. Shadith blinked as she glimpsed herself in one of the mirrored walls; she still hadn’t got used to the guise Digby’d thought up for her.

A little man with a yellowish, wrinkled pseudoskin mask left the shadows where he’d been standing and met her near one of the carved pillars of colored marble that were scattered about and connected to a complex play of arches as if they were really loadbearing instead of freeform art pieces. “Drina acMorah?”

“Jaskarah?”

“Yes. I have a shielded conference room reserved. If you’ll come?”

“Lead the way.”

Jaskarah tapped the seal on the door, walked to the table, and sat down. “You have a question for me?”

She frowned at him a moment, wondering if he already know what she wanted, knowing at the same time she had no leeway to ask him about that. “Do you know where Lylunda Elang was taken?”

He blinked at her and she could feel his surprise. Hunk! That answers that and makes me wonder why he doesn’t know. “I don’t know the name,” he said.

“Hm. Perhaps if I put it this way. A young woman was taken aboard a particular ship on Hutsarte by instructions from an official there. She was transferred to another place. I wish to know that place.”

“Ah. That’s different. Bol Mutiar in the Callidar Pseudo Cluster. An island called Chiouti. Is there anything further?”

“Can you give me more information about this Chiouti?”

“No.”

“Then I thank you for your help and would you prefer to leave first, or shall I?”

He stood, bowed, walked to the door, unsealed it, and left. It resealed behind him, a red light blinking on the monitor.

She waited till the red blink turned green, walked away from the room, her reach sweeping out to make sure the little man wasn’t hanging about, meaning to follow her until she removed the trappings of Drina-acMorah. Remembering the implicit warning in Digby’s message, she expected to find him out there, and he was, lingering in the shadow by one of the columns, his curiosity about her overlaid with a sense of need that disturbed her-more things she had to figure out about Digby. It wouldn’t surprise her much to learn that the faux-Jaskarah didn’t know who it was pulling the strings that got him here.

Not that I know either. Who can say what Digby did to get this.

Deacon’s rules were a lot looser than Marrat’s. There were no respectable folk here, no Gray Market with citizen types coming to buy. Murder was frowned on, though duels were common enough and killing in self-defense with even the faintest of justification rated a minor fine. Theft and the false report of theft were capital offenses, with trial by verification and the sentence carried out approximately twenty seconds after the verifier extruded its report. It was not a place for the gentle and the unaware. Which meant if she trapped and zapped the little man, no one would bother noticing. He had to know that, too, so it was going to be tricky. And, she reminded herself, I’ve got watch out or he does the same to me. Don’t get too sassy, Shadow. You aren’t the champeen wizard of the universe. Just think what Lee or Harskari-woulddo to you if the need arose. Or even Autumn Rose, if she took a notion.

She clicked her tongue, shook her head. I’m getting so used to deviousness, I forget the short way. All you have to do is get back to the ship intact, Shadow. The way Digby set things up, skinface can follow you till his feet rot and bribe the Deacon’s Guards for the ship’s Shriek and he won’t know more than he does now Keep it quick and easy and let’s get out of here.

Ten gelders bought her a ’bot escort out to the tie-down, the credit chip in Drina acMorah’s name paid her mooring fee, and a few minutes later she was

‘splitting for the Callidara. It meant another month of travel, but maybe this was the last of the zigs she’d have to zag.