Shadowplay

CELL 1

The thin wiry man sat at a kidney shaped table, scanning papers with a nervous rapidity, jotting a few words on a pad with each; when one padsheet was filled, he tore It off and spiked it. Brilliant morning sunlight streamed through the wall of windows to his left, touched his face with an innocent, unintended cruelty, exaggerating the hunger in it, the neediness that was the outward aspect of his ambition, the coldness and amorality in the man.

A soft chime broke the gently rustling silence. The man scowled, thumbed a button down. "Yes?"

The Aide's voice was a calm drawl, baritone verging on bass; he had perhaps been chosen as much for the quality of that voice as for his administrative skills.

"Piskwakan from the Port asks to speak to you, Makwahkik Sa-pe. He will not say why, save that it is very important and something you have expressed strong interest in recently. Will you speak to him?"

Makwahkik drummed his nails on the desk. "Tell him scramble, put him on."

"Makwahkik Sa-pe, we have them, we have the Avatars." The scrambler turned Piskwakan's voice scratchy and shrill, but the words came through clear enough to turn the listener's face weasel-hungry.

"How?"

A moment's silence as the Port-Director got his facts in order, Makwahldk was an impatient man. "Just after dawn the SD picked up a distrees call, corning from out toward the Islands, emergency beepers on a clutch of escape capsules. The Kiyakipao on duty had instructions to whistle me up if something like that happened. Was a tip from a local mouth, he said something important was coming at us, he's a straight mouth,, gives us good whistles. Bit, he said, maybe even Kiscomaskin or his bro. Was a destroyer in port, ordered it out to collect the capsules, bring 'em back softly, softly. Something peculiar. The capsules were all over first, then they were in one lump, bumping together, then they started moving shoreside. Pihtatipli brought back tracings to verify this, also photos of the capsules, standard types with no motive power. Also photos of the Avatars and the beasts. One collected all those, prints and films both. One will send them with the Avatars. There is… um,… a complication. The Pihtatipli's an ambitious man. And a brainless twerp. But a twerp with powerful connections, they bought his commission, otherwise he wouldna got near a ship. He's swore to keep his mouth shut, but he'll spill the whole with his first bottle of 'pishka squeeze. One wouldn't waste your time, except he's not just a Plicik, he's some sort of eighth cousin to the Nistam. Out of one's league. You want, one will order him to patrol the swamp; trouble is he makes one corn call and one gets one's butt kicked and he gets the order quashed. One has been able to muzzle him for the moment, but he's getting impatient. So over to you, friend. You want to fetch this lot or shall one shove them into a flit and ferry them over to the Kasta?"

"Send them. What about the destroyer's crew?"

"They've seen the Avatars and they know damn well what they were looking at. One can shut them up onboard the ship for twenty-eight hours, no more. Even then there'll be rumors leaking off before a third of that time has passed. This is a Port, Makwahkik Sa-Pe, you know what that means."

"Right. Give one six hours, you can manage that. This is good work, Piskwakan Sa-Ke. One owes you and one won't forget. Oppla's Boon, friend." Makwahkik clicked off the corn, went back to drumming on the desk. After a few minutes of this, he toggled the speaker.

"Nahwac, arrange highsecurity quarters for three; there'll be a flit arriving in the next ten minutes, have it put down in the Whisper Court, clear out that part of the Kasta, I want no one looking out those windows. Have them brought to me as soon as they're in. I'll be here if you need me before then."

Ajeri Kilavaz swore. She listened a moment longer, then called out: "Ginny, get over here. The shit is hitting the fan, and we could end up covered in it." Ginbiryol Seyirshi frowned at her but said nothing. He crossed the Bridge and stood beside her, watching the screen. "What is he talking about.. Then I was right. It was not as simple as it seemed it would be. Does Puk know?" Ajeri Kilavez shook her head. "He won't answer COM. I expect he will follow the smuggler all the way to Teegah's Limit, keep trying for him. You know Puk, how stubborn he can get."

"Yes."

"How did they manage it, Ginny? That flit had the defenses of a newhatched gnat, there's no way it could shrug off a seekershrike."

"It is my feeling that Puk was shooting at ghosts; if he hit the flit at all, it was empty by then with the escape capsules registering as fish if they registered at all. Remember the swamp, Ajeri tiszt. That lizardman has some dangerous Talents. The assessment?"

"Ready. There's a Rift in the ocean floor about a thousand kilometers off the East Coast, same latitude as Aina'iril. The mantle is thinnest there, drop the Banger in that and good-bye Kiskai. You want me to lay the egg, Ginny?"

"No. I do not want to take chances with it, there are too many Luck strands weaving down there. We will prime and lay it just before we leave. I would like to have a record of the event, but I think better not."

"You got it, sir. Anything else?"

"Not at the moment, Jeri. We will watch and wait"