Odd Girl Out

Under normal circumstances I would have approached Veldrick's house cautiously, parking a couple of blocks away and moving in on foot. But the circumstances here weren't normal. Veldrick's life was in danger, with Bayta's and Rebekah's about to be. There was no time for skulking around in the shadows.

Besides, since there was probably still a chunk of coral in my borrowed car's trunk, it wasn't like the Modhri didn't already know I was on my way.

I braked to a stop by Veldrick's yard, to find the front door of his house standing wide open. Leaving the engine running, I popped the door and dived out.

I barely made it. From behind a wide, multitrunked tree at the edge of Veldrick's lot line came a muted flash and a thudwumper slammed into the door a dozen centimeters from my hip.

My momentum was already taking me toward the rear of the car, so that was where I went, grabbing the end of the bumper as I reached it and pulling myself around behind the trunk. Even as I dropped into a crouch a second shot blew through the driver's window.

I pressed my back against the rear bumper, looking quickly around the rest of the neighborhood as I drew my Beretta and thumbed off the safety. The logical way for the Modhri to have split up his remaining forces, I knew, would have been to send two of the Fillies to the spaceport to intercept Bayta and Rebekah, and the other two here to ambush me.

Unfortunately, that was my logic, which wasn't necessarily the Modhri's. I might be facing a single shooter here, or two, or maybe even three, depending on how much trouble he was expecting from me and how badly he wanted to permanently remove me from the game.

The shooter behind the tree fired again, this shot taking out the front left tire. I rose from behind the car high enough to squeeze off a round at him, stayed there just long enough to persuade any second or third shooters that I was presenting a good target, then ducked down again.

But if there were any others, they didn't avail themselves of the golden opportunity. The Filly behind the tree was the only one who fired as I dropped back into cover. This time his shot hit the pavement two meters to the left of the car and ricocheted off into the darkness.

I looked around some more, feeling the clock ticking down with each passing second. Sooner or later, no matter how messy the Modhri's diversion was, the cops were going to free up enough personnel to come find out what all the shooting was about. Even if they didn't, there might be someone in the neighborhood with a hunting rifle. I needed to get into Veldrick's house, and fast.

But I didn't dare try a sprint across that much open ground until I knew how many opponents I was facing and their approximate positions. The shooter fired again, this shot burying itself somewhere in the front of the car. The engine's idle sputtered a bit, then recovered, and I waited for the second shot that would silence it for good.

But the shot never came. Instead, the tree-based shooter fired again to the side, bouncing the shot off the pavement a couple of meters to my right.

It was a shot that made no tactical sense whatsoever. He wasn't trying to kill me—those side shots hadn't even grazed the car. He might be trying to keep me pinned down while a partner worked his way behind me, but even then the shots should have been much closer to me.

Unless he was already shooting as close to me as he dared.

I looked sideways at the trunk I was leaning against. Back in Karim's bar, the Filly walkers had gone paralytic when McMicking torched that police car half a block away, a police car that had contained a chunk of Modhran coral.

The trunk release was inside the car, directly in my attacker's line of fire. Fortunately, a carefully placed round into the trunk's lock worked just as well. The lid popped open, and I caught a glimpse of a metallic box about the size of one of Rebekah's cargo boxes in the center of the trunk.

An instant later, all hell broke loose.

The Filly behind the tree shifted to quick-fire, his shots suddenly screaming past my head with the desperation of someone with nothing to lose. Simultaneously, a second fusillade began, this one coming from inside Veldrick's open door. Forcing back the reflex to throw myself on the pavement and scramble for the safety of the far side of the car, I lifted my Beretta and fired two rounds into the box.

Abruptly, the gunfire stopped. I fired one more round into the box and then took off at full Olympic sprint toward the house, shifting to the snoozer half of the Beretta's clip as I ran. Halfway across the lawn, I came within sight of the Filly who'd been shooting at me from behind the tree, now standing stiff and shaking, his gun clenched uselessly in his hand. I fired two snoozer rounds into him on the fly, and charged full tilt into the house.

The Filly inside the foyer was just starting to recover. I sent another pair of snoozers into his torso, dropping him to the floor before he could get his hand under enough control to bring his gun to bear. I glanced at the door, saw that it was undamaged, and closed and locked it behind me. Then, striding past the crumpled Filly, I headed into the meditation room.

Veldrick was lying on the floor near his coral display area, marinating in a pool of his own blood. The coral itself was gone, as were two of the six Quadrail shipping crates McMicking had pulled out earlier. The other four boxes were still here, sealed for travel.

I checked Veldrick's pulse, just to make sure, then got out my multitool and pried off the top of one of the crates. There was a chunk of coral inside, resting in a few centimeters of water. That wasn't enough water to keep the coral happy for any serious length of time, I knew, but it would be enough for me to get it to the spaceport and aboard McMicking's torchyacht. Once it was there, he could fill the crates the rest of the way to the top and head out for the Quadrail and, ultimately, his rendezvous with Hardin's buyer.

A quick search of the house took me to Veldrick's garage, where I found a fancy sport van with its rear loading door open and the other two Quadrail crates inside. Returning to the meditation room, I lugged the other four crates to the garage and loaded them aboard. Then, climbing in behind the wheel, I opened the garage and headed into the night.

I waited until I was driving north on Broadway toward the spaceport before I called McMicking. "What's your status?" I asked when he came on.

"No trouble so far," he said. "They've gone to ground and are holding."

"Good," I said, freshly conscious of the crates of coral bouncing along behind me. I didn't know whether the polyp colonies could hear me when the coral wasn't completely submerged, but this was no time to take chances. "I've got Veldrick's coral here in the car with me."

"Good," McMicking said, the subtle change in his voice telling me that he'd caught the implication. "Any trouble?"

"Plenty," I told him. "The good news is that I snoozed both of my Fillies, which should leave us only two to deal with. Have they shown their faces recently, by the way?"

"Not that I've seen," McMicking said. "Probably won't, either. Why scour the countryside when there's a perfectly good choke point at the end of the line?"

"Why, indeed?" I agreed grimly. "The bad news is that they got to Veldrick before I did. He's dead."

There was a soft hiss from the comm. "That's not going to go down well at the head office."

"At this point the head office is the least of my concerns," I said bluntly. "The Modhri's already tried to frame me once for murder. I have a bad feeling this is attempt number two."

"Meaning we need to get you off the planet before the balloon goes up," McMicking said. "Okay. Get to the spaceport as fast as you can and wait there for me. I've got a few resources I can pull together, but it'll take some time."

"Got it," I said, frowning down the softly lit street ahead of me. Did he really have some trick up his sleeve, or had that last comment been solely for the Modhri's benefit?

At this point, though, it hardly mattered. Getting off New Tigris with Bayta and Rebekah in tow was still the plan du jour, and whatever McMicking had planned would have to work around that. "Just make it snappy," I warned. "The timeline is running a little thin."

"I'll be as fast as I can," he promised. "Hang in there."

"Right."

I keyed off, then punched in Bayta's number. "Everything all right?" I asked when she answered.

"So far," she said. "What about you?"

"A couple of small problems, but nothing I can't handle," I told her. No point in telling her about Veldrick now. "I'm on my way. Give me a few minutes to check things out, and I'll let you know when it's safe to come in, the way I did on Veerstu."

"Veerstu?" she asked, sounding puzzled.

"Yes, Veerstu," I said, leaning a little on the last word.

"Oh—right," she said. "Be careful."

"You, too."

I didn't know how sensitive the Modhran coral's hearing Was back there in the rear of my van, so just to be on the safe side I tapped the edge of my comm right beside the off button, hopefully making the same sound as I would if I'd actually turned the thing off. Then, with the comm still transmitting, I closed it and put it back into my jacket. On Veerstu, I'd done things a bit differently, but the effect here would be much the same, allowing Bayta to eavesdrop on whatever happened from now on. If and when the Modhri decided to get cute, at least this way she and Karim would instantly know about it.

There were no other vehicles waiting as I pulled into the circular drive in front of the main spaceport building. Through the glassed-in foyer I could see a youngish man at the Customs counter, looking slightly bleary-eyed as he worked. Confederation regs required there be someone on duty or on call at all times, but at this hour I'd expected to have to wake someone up.

I parked Veldrick's van in front of the door and got out, scanning the parking area and the autocab stand as I did so. There was no sign of our last pair of Filly walkers. I turned back to the spaceport door, mentally running through my repertoire of sweet talk, bluster, and threats. It was going to take something unusually impressive for me to talk six crates of illegal Modhran coral past a Customs official at this time of night.

The door had just swung open for me when I heard the sound of approaching car engines. I turned, my hand automatically slipping into my jacket for my Beretta.

And as I did so I was hit by a barrage of lights: the stabbing white of headlights, along with strobing flashes of red and blue.

"Freeze," a voice ordered from behind me.

Carefully, I turned around, my hand still inside my jacket. Lieutenant Bhatami had appeared from some nook or cranny inside the spaceport and was striding through the foyer toward me, flanked by a pair of cops with guns in their hands. Bhatami's own sidearm was still in its holster, but his hand was resting on the grip.

"Hello, Lieutenant," I greeted him, easing my hand out of my jacket and holding it out to demonstrate its emptiness. "What brings you here at this ungodly hour?"

"My job," Bhatami said as the three of them reached me. Behind me, the police cars had braked to a group halt, and I could hear the sounds of multiple doors opening as they spilled their own collection of cops onto the circular drive. "Hands behind your back, please," the lieutenant added as his two fellow cops veered off and approached me warily from both sides.

"What's going on?" I asked, doing as he ordered. One of the cops stepped close and cuffed my wrists together at the small of my back.

"Let's start with what you're doing here," Bhatami said, stepping close to me and pulling my Beretta from its holster. "Odd time of night to be leaving the planet."

"I wasn't leaving the planet," I said. "My assistant and I checked into the Hanging Gardens and I came back here to pick up our luggage."

"In a very nice van," Bhatami commented, running his eye over it. "A rental?"

"No, I borrowed it from Mr. Veldrick," I told him. There was no point in lying—they would have had the tag data before I'd even parked. "He had some equipment he needed to send out to the Tube. Since I was coming out here anyway, I volunteered to bring the crates along and put them into secure storage until the next torchferry run."

"You talked to Mr. Veldrick personally about all this?" Bhatami asked.

"We discussed it earlier this evening, yes," I said, choosing my words carefully.

"It would have to have been earlier, wouldn't it?" Bhatami's gaze shifted to a point over my shoulder, "Isantra Golovek?" he invited.

"That is the one," a Filly voice came from behind me.

I turned, squinting at the bright lights of the police cars still pointed in my direction. It was my old friend Comet Nose, striding toward me with a cop on either side of him. "Yes, it is definitely the one I saw," Comet Nose continued. "It was he who murdered Mr. Veldrick."

"Thank you," Bhatami said. "Frank Donaldson, you're under arrest for the murder of Anton Charl Veldrick. Sergeant, take him to the station for booking."

"Wait a second," I protested as one of the cops took my arm and started to pull me toward the assembled cars. "That's it? An uncorroborated accusation from a single alien, and that's it?"

"Patience, Mr. Donaldson," Bhatami said, eyeing me closely. "You're acting as if you've already been convicted and sentenced."

"I'm acting as if I'm sitting in the middle of a massive setup," I countered. "Those crates contain highly valuable equipment. Am I supposed to just trust that your men will resist the temptation of pilferage after I've been hauled off?"

"No need," Bhatami assured me. "Those crates are evidence in an ongoing investigation. As such, they'll be returning to the station along with you and secured in the evidence room." He cocked an eyebrow. "If it'll make you feel any better, I can arrange for you to ride in the van along with them."

"And the rest will also be secured?" Comet Nose put in.

"Yes, as soon as it's been located," Bhatami assured him.

"The rest of what?" I asked.

"The rest of the material you allegedly took from Mr. Veldrick's house," Bhatami said. "Isantra Golovek gave us a full description."

I frowned. What was he talking about? The pieces of coral they'd loaded aboard their cars?

And then, suddenly, I understood. "Let me guess," I said. "Several metal boxes the size of Quadrail lockboxes?"

"What makes you say that?" Bhatami asked, eyeing me thoughtfully.

"Because I've recently seen boxes like that," I told him. "Only not at Mr. Veldrick's house. They're the property of someone else entirely."

"If so, the owner has nothing to worry about," Bhatami assured me. "Assuming this person you name can prove title, the boxes will be promptly returned."

I sent a sour look at Comet Nose, noting again the subtle cues of Modhran control reflected in his long face. So that was the new game plan. The Modhri didn't particularly care if the murder frame-up against me worked or not. In fact, he probably didn't even care if Bhatami ultimately returned Rebekah's boxes to her. All he wanted was the chance to get his coral outpost and her boxes all thrown in together in the police evidence room. "And where exactly am I alleged to have stashed these other boxes?" I asked.

"Your assistant was alleged to have driven off with them in another car," Bhatami said. "We're looking for her now."

I looked around at the collection of cops loitering around us. There were eight of them, plus Bhatami and the two who'd been hiding in the spaceport building with him. "That's a neat trick, considering most of your force seems to be right here," I commented.

"We're a larger department than you seem to think, Mr. Donaldson," Bhatami said. "And the group here will be back on patrol duty as soon as you and your cargo have been properly secured." Stepping forward, he took my upper arm at the elbow. "Now, as you'd expressed interest in riding in the van with the crates—"

"Lieutenant!" one of the cops at the edge of the pack cut in. "Car approaching along the south access road."

"Take him," Bhatami ordered, shoving me toward one of the other cops. Drawing his gun, he stepped to the front of Veldrick's van and pressed himself against it, his eyes on the approaching headlights.

This was it—McMicking was finally making his move. I took a casual half step forward, easing a little in front of the cop who now had me in tow. As I did so, my cuffed hands brushed the key ring on his belt, a ring that included the key to my cuffs. If whatever McMicking had in mind was spectacular enough, I ought to be able to get my hands free while everyone else's attention was distracted.

The car was still approaching, running rather faster than seemed prudent. Was it a diversion, rigged with a tied-down steering wheel and braced accelerator? I glanced surreptitiously around the rest of the spaceport grounds, searching for a sign of the real attack.

But instead of crashing into the parked police cars, the incoming car turned sharply to avoid them and braked to a halt directly behind my van. As it settled into the glare of the police cars' headlights, I saw that it was Karim's car.

"Out of the car," Bhatami shouted. "Keep your hands where we can see them."

"Don't shoot," a female voice called back. The two front doors opened.

And Bayta and Rebekah stepped out into the light.

I shot a look at Comet Nose. Even given his alien physiology, I had no trouble seeing the satisfaction on his face. For over a month he'd been searching for this girl, and now here she was, walking right into his arms.

And because I was watching Comet Nose, I completely missed Bhatami's own reaction. "Rebekah Beach?" he demanded, his voice sounding annoyed and stunned and relieved all at the same time.

I switched my gaze to the lieutenant. He'd holstered his gun and was hurrying over to the car, his expression the same combination of annoyed and stunned and relieved that I'd heard in his voice. "Where in h—? Where have you been?"

"Hello, Lieutenant Bhatami," Rebekah said, her own voice quiet and subdued. "I know, and I'm sorry"

"Sorry doesn't begin to cover it," Bhatami chided. Giving Bayta a quick, speculative look, he took Rebekah's arm and led her away from the car toward our little group of cops. "The whole department's been looking for you for the past month, ever since your sister left."

"I've been hiding," Rebekah said simply. Her eyes brushed Comet Nose and me and then turned back to Bhatami. "There are people who want to hurt me." She hesitated. "They hurt Lorelei, too. She's …" Her voice faded away.

A muscle in Bhatami's cheek tightened briefly "Yes, I know," he said gently. "The word came in from Earth yesterday afternoon. I'm very sorry."

"Thank you," Rebekah said. "Can I please just leave, Lieutenant? All I want to do is leave."

Bhatami looked again at Bayta. "You have a place to go?"

"We're going to Earth," Rebekah said. "Bayta and Mr. Donaldson have offered to take me to the Tube in their torchyacht."

"Impossible," Comet Nose put in before Bhatami could answer. "Officer Bhatami, that is the car I saw, and those are the Humans. They helped him kill the Human Veldrick."

"You must be mistaken," Bhatami said, his tone polite but firm. "Ms. Beach and her sister are well known in our community. There's no way she would be involved in theft and murder."

"The evidence will make that decision," Comet Nose said firmly. "I am a ranking citizen of the Filiaelian Assembly. You will accommodate my request."

"Maybe we can meet you halfway," I suggested. It was about time I stirred up the mud a little. "Tell us what was stolen."

Every eye turned to me. "You will stay silent, murderer," Comet Nose bit out.

"No, really," I said. "You say you saw Rebekah stealing Mr. Veldrick's stuff. What exactly did you see her stealing?"

"Metal boxes," he said. "Twenty of them, shaped—"

"Yes, we know it was in boxes," I interrupted, looking sideways at Bhatami. But he was showing no signs of cutting me off, and his cop's gaze was focused solely on Comet Nose. Apparently, having Rebekah tacitly vouch for me did more for my credibility with the locals than even my Hardin Security card did. "I want you to tell us what you think was in those boxes."

"How would I know?" Comet Nose protested.

"Because Veldrick said you were business associates, which implies you must have spent a fair amount of time in his house," I said. "Surely you have some idea what he owned that might be worth stealing."

Comet Nose looked at Bhatami. "Lieutenant, this is completely improper," he protested.

"It's certainly irregular," Bhatami said calmly "On the other hand, no one murders a man in order to make off with vacation souvenirs. If you can offer a list of Mr. Veldrick's valuables, and if those same items are actually inside those boxes, it would go a long way toward validating your claim."

"I saw him shoot the Human Veldrick," Comet Nose insisted, jabbing a finger at me.

"So you've said," Bhatami agreed. "And if you're right, the investigators on the scene will find evidence of that. But that will take time."

Comet Nose's face had gone suddenly very still. "And?" he prompted ominously.

"And I'm not inclined to hold Ms. Beach without some kind of solid evidence that she's involved in any of this," Bhatami said. "Ms. Beach or her property."

Comet Nose's eyes flicked to Rebekah, then to me, then finally back to Bhatami. He didn't look nearly so self-satisfied now. "Very well," he ground out. "The boxes contain Modhran coral." He stabbed a finger at the van. "As do the so-named crates of equipment this Human carries."

"Really," Bhatami said, his voice darkening as he looked at me. "I presume you realize that importation of alien coral and coral-like substances is a class-B felony on Confederation worlds."

"Yes, and I'm sure Mr. Veldrick knew that, too," I agreed. "I can only assume that someone else must have given it to him. Someone from outside the Confederation, probably, who wasn't familiar with all of our laws and import restrictions."

For a long minute Bhatami locked gazes with me. Then, stirring, he turned back to Rebekah. "Rebekah, will you tell me what's in the boxes?"

A slightly pained look flicked across Rebekah's face. "Siris brandy," she said.

Bhatami blinked. "Brandy?"

"Yes," she said, looking even more pained. "Three hundred bottles of it."

He pursed his lips. "I'm afraid that's way beyond personal use limits," he said regretfully. "You need an exporter's license to deal in that much alcohol."

"No problem," I put in. "I have a license. We can take it out under my name."

Bhatami frowned at me. "I thought you worked security for Hardin Industries."

"My duties are flexible."

He gave me a long, speculative look, then turned back to Rebekah. "What's the brandy for, Rebekah?"

She lowered her gaze. "Mr. Karim gave it to me. I was hoping I could sell it for enough money to buy my Quadrail ticket to Earth."

Carefully, I suppressed a frown. A fine story, as far as it went. Certainly New Tigris's home-grown alcoholic beverages had become popular among the galaxy's rich and tipsy. Sold to the right dealer, three hundred bottles of Siris might well have brought in enough for a third-class Quadrail ticket.

The only problem was that there was no reason why the Modhri would knock himself out this way, not to mention murder three people, just to get his hands on a stash of Human liquor.

Which meant Rebekah was lying through her teeth.

The Modhri knew it, too. "Ridiculous," Comet Nose spat. "She carries Modhran coral. I insist you impound it as evidence."

"You can look for yourself," Rebekah offered.

Bhatami looked at Comet Nose. "Thank you, I will," he said. "Perhaps you'd care to join us, Isantra Golovek?"

Taking Rebekah's arm again, Bhatami walked her back toward the rear of the car. With only a brief hesitation, Comet Nose followed. I got two steps of my own before the cop on guard-dog duty hauled me to a sharp halt. "Lieutenant?" I called.

"Yes, bring him, too," Bhatami ordered over his shoulder.

The cop and I reached the rear of the car just as Rebekah popped open the trunk. I picked myself a spot where I had a view of the boxes and was also within quick-kick range of Comet Nose, just in case. "You have the keys?" Bhatami asked.

Silently, Rebekah handed them over. Bhatami looked over the boxes a moment, then inserted the key into the rightmost box on the top layer.

There was a teeth-aching screech of metal on metal. "They're a little rusty," Rebekah said apologetically. "Sorry."

"That's all right." With careful effort Bhatami managed to turn the key without breaking it, and with a final squeak the lock popped. Removing the key, he lifted the lid.

There, glinting in the soft glow of the trunk light, were eighteen bottles of Siris brandy.

No one spoke. For once, even the Modhri seemed to be at a loss for words. Silently, Bhatami closed the lid and relocked the box. Brushing past Comet Nose, he went to the other end of the trunk and inserted the key into the box one in from the left. With more of the same effort, and more of the metal-on-metal screeching, he got it open.

Inside was another collection of brandy bottles. "Well?" Bhatami asked, looking at Comet Nose.

"It is there," Comet Nose insisted.

"Yes, I can tell," Bhatami said with only a touch of sarcasm. Closing and sealing the box, he moved the middle box of the top layer aside and opened the box directly beneath it. Still more brandy. "Thank you, Rebekah," he said, closing and sealing the box and replacing the one he'd moved. "Were you wanting to leave right now?"

"Yes, as soon as I can," Rebekah said. "What about Mr. Donaldson?"

"I'm afraid Mr. Donaldson will have to stay with us for a little longer," Bhatami said. "But you and Bayta can go ahead and load your things aboard her torchyacht if you'd like."

"No!" Comet Nose barked. All the work he'd gone to in order to get his coral and Rebekah's boxes together, and now here they were about to slip out of his grasp. "I protest! You must not allow her to leave."

"Hussin, go get a cart from the port building, will you?" Bhatami ordered one of the cops, ignoring the Filly's outburst.

The cop nodded and headed for the building. He might as well not have bothered. The Customs official had been standing by the open door, clearly eavesdropping on the unfolding drama, and as Officer Hussin detached himself from the group of cops, the younger man ducked back inside and snared one of the three transport carts lined up against the wall. He met Hussin halfway to our group, and as they moved the cart together toward the car I could swear they were actually vying with each other as to which of them was doing the better job. Everyone on New Tigris, apparently, was Rebekah's friend.

Almost everyone, anyway. "Officer Bhatami, I protest," Comet Nose said again as the two men maneuvered the cart to the rear of the car and started loading the boxes onto it. He was right in Bhatami's face now, his voice rising in pitch and increasing in volume. "I intend to lodge a formal complaint with the Filiaelian Assembly—"

And then, one of the cops standing near the front of the van gave a little choke and collapsed onto the ground.