Derelict For Trade

19

"Promise me one thing," Rip was saying as he and Dane rode the maglev down.

"What’s that?" Dane took in a deep breath. It was good to be in one grav again. Strange, the almost overwhelming sense of rightness. Almost worth the rest of the journey, he thought wryly.

"If you see any of those Clan Golm jokers, we’re smoke. Any," Rip repeated.

Dane grinned. "Already decided that. They have to know we’re onto them, which means—"

"If we do see them, they’re there to make trouble," Rip finished.

Dane laughed. He had a suspicion that Rip’s emotions were much like his—anticipation, impatience, a weird mixture of fun and fear.

And a desire for justice.

"One more piece, one more clue," Dane muttered. "That’s all we need. Let it be there."

After a few moments, during which the acceleration gradually increased, Dane felt a kind of twinge in his mind, like a bad memory that hadn’t quite surfaced. Puzzled, he glanced at Rip, who was sitting back against the seat, doing heavy-grav breathing.

Rip looked up right then, and said, "Just had an ugly thought: what if it had been us?"

"You mean instead of the Ariadne ?"

"Could have been," Rip said, his dark eyes narrowed. "If we’d found some kind of rare mineral on the Denlieth run, or something else we could have made a big killing on—"

"And we would have radioed ahead to Trade for insurance," Dane said, continuing the thought.

"And these slime buckets would have been sitting on our jump point, waiting for us. And the Queen would be orbiting in Mykosian space now, empty, with some other name painted on her side."

Dane flexed his hands. How good it would feel to grab some hijacker by the neck and fling him out a lockhole into space! No Free Trade ship should have to go through that again. They simply had to win. They had to.

Rip sighed.

"Winning, right?" Dane asked, humor leaching back into his thoughts. Anger in high grav didn’t feel good; it was as if a big Shver foot stepped on his heart every time it beat.

"And Tooe," Rip said. "First I was thinking about how right our cause is. That any crew would feel the same. Then I thought of Tooe and her, what do you call it again?"

"Klinti," Dane supplied.

"Let’s imagine that everything miraculously clears up and we don’t end up brigged here forever, and we’re ready to blast off. Do you think she’s going to be able to leave those people?"

Dane shook his head. "I don’t know. It’s been on my mind all day today," he admitted. "Until she took off to warn Nunku—and I understand why she did it—I thought there was no problem. But she really does seem to need to see how the klinti is doing, to talk to Nunku, to get her ideas. Makes me wonder if all her work with me is a kind of game." He shifted position to ease a cramp forming in one leg. "Well, Van says whatever happens with her, it’s good practice for me. I guess I’d gotten so accustomed to things as they are I half thought I’d be an apprentice forever."

"I guess we’ll see," Rip said. "Hoo. We have to be almost there—I feel like somebody dropped a spaceship on my chest."

Dane glanced out the port just in time to see them grounding. The maglev whizzed along the Shver countryside, through forests of great-trunked, spreading trees, toward the stop now familiar to them both.

The nature of Shver building made it impossible to scan ahead for dangers; they did not like their domiciles in the open, the buildings were never more than one story—not surprising for a race that couldn’t jump—and even the general-purpose establishments were fairly secluded. Dane noticed, as they slowed, that once you were on the surface you did not even see roads. Was being witnessed traveling as big a taboo as public eating? Or was it merely prudence on the part of a people whose culture was unabashedly militant?

No one to answer that, Dane thought, leaning forward carefully—the

last thing he needed was to strain an abdominal muscle by jerking his body forward just to scan the concourse as the maglev pod gently braked toward its stop.

Shver were about, but none of them bore the clan marking of Golm.

He looked with care on both sides before nodding to Rip. Walking with caution, they disembarked from the pod and started toward the building.

Shver came and went, but except for a curious stare from a pair of small Shver, no one paid them the least heed— overtly.

Dane felt he was being watched, and attributed it immediately to the knowledge that Nunku’s ferret was bound to have been discovered. There were no signs of danger, and he kept ceaseless watch, though it meant turning his head and slowing his step so that he did not risk losing his balance.

They passed inside and went straight to the communications chamber, where Rip took his turn at watching while Dane keyed in for messages.

There was nothing.

Alarm now burned in every muscle, intensifying the pull of the heavy gravity. Something was wrong; Rip did not speak, but the wariness in his gaze and his tightened jaw indicated he felt it as well.

The two men moved just a little apart, in case they had to defend themselves, as they started their retreat. No one waited outside the com chamber. Relieved, they sped up just a bit, until they reached the outer door. There was the pod, not fifty meters away.

Dane wanted to keep his gaze on the relative safety of the maglev pod, as though that would vouchsafe their reaching it, but he forced himself to turn his head from side to side, scanning.

No one was in sight—no one at all.

Bad sign.

"Hurry," he breathed, the word coming out in a whuff. Ignoring the protest of joints, muscles, and lungs, he quickened his step, and Rip did

the same beside him.

Twenty-five meters.

Twenty.

Fifteen—

Shadows appeared on the periphery of his vision, spiking his adrenaline. Crouching slightly, he turned—and his hand encountered the ceremonial weapon of a huge Shver.

Pain lanced through Dane’s knuckles. The Shver—a first-rank citizen, a part of his mind noted hazily—had moved with preternatural quietness right up behind him.

More Shver appeared, hemming in Dane and Rip.

The Shver whose weapon Dane had inadvertently touched began to speak, his low voice sounding like thunder in a distant valley.

Rip stayed silent and watchful, until the Shver suddenly turned and departed as silently as they had come.

"I got that last," Rip said, as they eased themselves into the pod. "Something about Monitors?"

"They’re reporting to the Monitors," Dane said, shock ringing through his head. "All nice and legal," he added bitterly. "Flindyk wins again—a legalized murder."

"What?" Rip exclaimed, then gasped for air. "Murder?"

Dane said, "I’ve been challenged to a duel."

Craig Tau watched Jellico’s impatience steadily increase until at last he laid his hand decisively on the table and said, "I can’t wait any longer. The Kanddoyds might keep all hours but Ross doesn’t, and I don’t want to risk talking to whoever sits in his office when he’s gone."

"We’d just get referred to the Monitors," Van Ryke said.

"Or picked up by them," Wilcox muttered.

Jellico gave one last glance at the chrono and shoved himself gently up from the table, catching hold of the hatchway. "If they’re not back in... half an hour, Wilcox and Stotz, you go get them. Ya, I want you on the com. Cofort, are you still going up to the Spin Axis?" He looked across the mess cabin at Rael for the first time during the discussion.

"Yes," she said. Craig felt her tensing beside him—as if she were bracing herself for an argument.

But he gave a short nod and said, "Weeks, if you go with her, maybe the two of you can shorten the time you’re needed up there. You’ve helped in the sick bay before—just do what she asks you to."

"Glad to help," Jasper said with his shy smile.

Jellico jerked a thumb at Jan Van Ryke. "I want you along with me,

Van. I need your assessment of Ross. Something’s missing, and I can’t put my finger on what. You too, Craig, for the physician’s point of view."

His hard gray gaze lifted, as if by chance, to Rael’s face again, and he hesitated, as if about to say something, but quite suddenly he turned and vanished.

For a time Rael stood where she was, watching the hatchway. Tau was also still, observing. He could heard the captain’s voice in the corridor outside, giving orders to Mura and Ali Kamil, and then he was gone.

Rael Cofort flexed her hands, then suddenly looked up to meet Tau’s gaze. He didn’t say anything, or look away. There was nothing to say. She did not try to hide her emotions; she understood that he knew what was going on. She also understood his compassion—and his determination not to make the mistake of trying to interfere.

She smiled, gave a slight shrug, then she too vanished through the hatchway.

A few minutes later Tau propelled himself through the outer lock after Van Ryke and the captain, then pushed off to sail down the corridor to the maglev halt. With some amusement he watched Van Ryke’s big form maneuver with grace around the corners and up the last corridor.

They settled into a pod, Van Ryke’s bushy white brows soaring as he

scanned around them. As might be expected, the pods were all full of a variety of spacers all determined to get some kind of business done before the last of the diurnal emporia closed—either that or were about to embark on what passed for an evening’s conviviality in a habitat.

Unfortunately it also precluded any kind of private talk. Tau wanted to find out more about what the captain wanted him looking for—though he decided as they sped along that maybe observation without any previous expectation coloring his views might be the most valuable.

There was no one in the Way of the Rain-dappled Lilies; this was where the highest Kanddoyd officials lived. Tau looked forward to the spectacular view of the inside of the habitat that this particular area was said to offer.

Ross was present. Tau had heard about the Rose Garden, but at least by the time the Kanddoyd who greeted them had ushered them inside the legate’s domicile, he was not to be found studying his holographic plants.

The office was recognizable as a standard Patrol captain’s office, right down to the regulation desk. Nothing was out of place, nothing looked amiss. Even the windows were blocked, giving the room an atmosphere of focus and efficiency. Ross himself was seated behind his desk, neat in the black and silver uniform of a Patrol officer, his long face alert.

"Captain Jellico," he said as the three Solar Queen's men walked in.

"I’m glad you’re here—it saved me having to request an interview." He looked down at a flimsy. "I’ve received a surprising number of complaints, mostly rowdyism and illegal trespassing, about your crew. Can you explain that?"

"It’s why we’re here," Jellico said, handing Ross the printouts that Tang Ya had prepared, plus a tape spool.

Ross set the spool in a slot, where it could be automatically downloaded, as he perused the printout in silence. When he looked up, he frowned slightly, but otherwise there was no expression at all on his face. "How did you get this information?" he asked.

"Illegally," Jellico said.

Ross dropped the papers, which took a long time to settle to the desk.

Tau watched them in fascination as the legate stared at a point in space midway between his visitors, then looked up again. "I can stop the transmissions—in fact, I will send a coded ’gram to HQ." He halted.

Van Ryke said, "I am assuming that if what we’ve found out is true, even your secure line has probably been compromised."

"And the message will never get there, yet I’ll receive an acknowledgment," Ross said. For the first time there was some animation in his lean countenance. "If that is so, it would explain a number of anomalies that are side issues to what you have here. But that can wait. What I’ll do, then, is send a spool up with the next guard rotation, and it can be radioed not to HQ but to the legate at. Sheng Li." He named a system on the space lanes between Mykos and Terra. "They’ll send it from the Patrol ship. I’ll have them jump out to some random coordinate outside Mykosian space before they send, to be safe."

"We’ve probably been seen coming here," Van Ryke said with his easy smile.

Jellico said, "You might send one from here as well, just in case."

Ross blinked, then said, "Yes. Just an order to stop the transmissions of the lost and abandoned lists. I’ll send a message to Trade HQ about the insured ships as well." He gave a slight, wintry smile. "As there’s been nothing to do here for the past number of years, my appearing to perform the minimum required of my post will seem in character."

"How long have you been stationed here, Captain, if I may be permitted to ask?" Tau spoke up. "I thought regulations were specific about rotating people in and out of hostile environments. A habitat would be listed as hostile, wouldn’t it, as it is so alien to our kind?"

"Four years," Ross said. "That’s reg. But I’ve been here almost sixteen. They apparently don’t get to us this far out as often as they ought to."

Tau nodded, but he made a mental note to do some checking in the public records.

"Back to us," Jellico said. "What are our chances of demanding an investigation?"

"You can," Ross said, "but I can’t, acting alone. A court of inquiry at this level must involve all three races, according to the Compact of Harmony."

"So," Jellico said, "we do it."

"You can," Ross said, "but it’ll break you. In fact, I strongly suspect that if all this is true, it is the single reason why you have not been dealt with more summarily until now.

If Flindyk really is the. mastermind of this conspiracy, then he would like nothing better than to fight you in court. You don’t have proof of his culpability, which means investigation."

"What’s wrong with that?"

Van Ryke raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I should have thought of the obvious."

Ross gave that slight, pained smile again. "I think you see it. Shver justice is summary. Kanddoyds, who oversee most of the civilian cases, can take years to solve the simplest case."

"Wouldn’t the investigative committee be made up of all three races?" Tau asked.

Ross turned to him. "Yes, but you have to understand that anything to do with the Kanddoyds is going to take ages to resolve, by the most complimentary, indirect methods possible. Everything is done to save face—I expect the decision is probably arrived at and accepted before it’s actually heard."

"Of course," Tau said. And suddenly from his studies a chilling analogy emerged from memory: that both Kanddoyds and Shver culled their defective newborns, as did many races with population problems. But while the Shver were plain about it, making the decision and quickly carrying it out, the Kanddoyds made an elaborate festival of it, calling it the Time of the Celebration of the Perfect-Born. It amounted to the same thing, except where the Shver injected the cullees before the family, so at least it was painless, the Kanddoyd culls were borne away in silence and quiet, so no one ever knew who did it or what was done.

Tau felt his guts gripe at this unexpectedly sinister side to the seemingly friendly race. And Flindyk has reputedly become more Kanddoyd than human, he thought.

Jellico said, "If we request the investigation, then we’d be required to testify, wouldn’t we?"

"Correct. You’d have to stay at your own expense, unless I arrested you and impounded your ship."

Van Ryke shook his head. "Flindyk could easily spin this out ten years if he wanted."

"Meanwhile we’re stuck here, and not necessarily safely," Tau said. "So what can we do?"

Ross tapped together the printouts, and laid them in a sealed file. "You may be certain that I shall do my own investigating, though it will have to be slowly and with care."

Jellico gave his curt nod. "Thanks, Captain. If you need us, you know where to find us."

He flicked glances Tau’s and Van Ryke’s way, and in silence the two officers followed their captain out.

No one spoke until they reached the maglev concourse. This time they waited for several pods until they found one that was empty. As soon as it started to move, Jellico turned to Tau. "Your impressions?"

"I want to check the Patrol’s public records to make certain, but I’ll just bet that this man was not the kind to interfere if things seemed fine on the surface."

"You mean he’s part of it?" Van Ryke frowned.

"No, I don’t think so at all," Tau said. "Of course I could be wrong—I’ve been fooled before—but I do think he’s by nature a depressive personality, a trait worsened by this habitat. When humans first tried to live on them, there were numbers of people who developed adverse psychological conditions."

"So if you look at the record what do you expect to see?"

"That his predecessors who were very active spent their four years here and rotated back, and those who were more hands-off stayed longer. I’ll further wager that Flindyk has enough control over com to see that Ross’s requests for transfer have never gone through."

Jellico nodded. "From what I know of Patrol regs, after the four years in a hostile environment, a request for transfer would get high pri. This far out, though, if there was no request—or even a request to stay on—nothing would be done. It’s expensive to send a ship out this far."

Tau watched his captain, saw the characteristic drumming of his fingers—lightly, so that there was no reaction in the micrograv—which meant that he’d reached a decision. Van Ryke looked up expectantly. "And so, Chief?"

"If Ross can’t solve this," Jellico said, "we will."