CHAPTER FOUR
At long last, we reached Xathru.
“All fueled up?” Floyd asked, leaning over my shoulder as I ran the Ruth’s preflight checks.
“Fueled, docking fees paid, and Balmoral programmed into the helm,” I confirmed. “I also laid in a supply of the coffee you drank aboard the yacht.”
“Very observant,” Floyd complimented me. “Too bad it’ll be for nothing. I’m getting off at Balmoral, and I have no idea whether your passenger likes that blend.”
“Really?” I asked, frowning. I’d assumed that Floyd would be on hand the whole way to ride herd on us, the passenger, or both. “We can sleep four in a pinch, you know.”
“Pretty tight pinch,” Floyd said. “No, I already checked. You’ve got new bioprobes in both of your bays. That must have set you back a bit. Or set McKell back.”
“Mm,” I said noncommittally. Floyd didn’t seem all that concerned as to who we were working for, but he had McKell’s name and occasionally liked to prod me with it, probably just to see if anything shook loose. “So tell me. Balmoral’s only about fifteen hours from here, so why didn’t you arrange for her to meet us here instead of there?”
“You’re a clever boy,” he said in a half serious, half mocking tone. “You tell me.”
I sighed. As my father used to say, Playing stupid gives the other guy a chance to show off how much smarter he is and how much more he knows. Unfortunately, Floyd wasn’t the type who needed to pump up his ego, and he already knew how smart I was. “Like you said when I asked about stopping along the way, someone might recognize Mr. Cherno’s yacht. This way, the only connection between you and our passenger is the Ruth, which no one in their right mind would bother to keep track of.”
Which wasn’t exactly true, of course. Sub-Director Nask, for one, was probably keeping loose tabs on us, and there were also a few people from our bounty hunter days who wouldn’t mind knowing where I was at any given time. Especially if they could run into me when I wasn’t armed.
“Very good,” Floyd said approvingly. “If you ever get tired of working for McKell and his friends, give me a call. I’m sure we could find a spot for you.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” I said. “My deep-rooted dislike of getting shot at, remember?”
“Right. I’d forgotten. Pity.” Floyd yawned. “Well, you seem to have things in hand here. I’m going to take a quick nap in the dayroom. Let me know when we get to Balmoral.”
“You’ll be the first.”
* * *
We put down on a bustling landing field at the edge of the capital city, New Aberdeen. I arranged for the fuelers to top off the Ruth’s tanks, and as Floyd grabbed a runaround and headed across the field to wherever he was meeting our passenger, Selene and I got our own vehicle and headed for the nearby StarrComm center.
I was prepared for the admiral to be his usual eloquently unhappy self. But I’d underestimated the extent to which the sheer shock value of our news would affect the man’s vocabulary. For a solid three seconds after I’d finished he just sat there and stared at us, which was probably the average person’s equivalent of a two-week coma.
“You’re certain?” he asked at last. “You’re absolutely certain?”
“Selene is,” I said, nodding sideways at Selene. As usual, she’d let me carry the ball on this one, only speaking up when there was a small detail I’d forgotten to mention. “Unless you think the Patth have more than one Gemini and that Nask has been inside all of them.”
“I would think that highly unlikely,” the admiral murmured. His eyes were unfocused, his brain undoubtedly running the situation through the full sand-sifter. “If we could snatch the Patth Gemini out from under them . . . ”
“Bear in mind we have no idea whatsoever where it is,” I reminded him.
“Somewhere nine days’ flight from Xathru,” he reminded me back.
“Or not,” I said. “Floyd could have circled us through hyperspace for eight and a half days and then landed somewhere within spitting distance of where we started.”
“And then went through the same charade on the way back to Xathru?” he countered. “You think he would deliberately waste those extra days even with the window of opportunity for whatever Cherno has in mind steadily closing?”
I shrugged. “Depends on whether Cherno’s more worried about the tightness of his timing or that you and Icarus will find him and sneak the portal out of his backyard.”
The admiral grunted. “I suppose that makes sense. And speaking of his backyard . . . ?”
“The hangar we landed in had a mix of fir trees and Vyssiluyan pampas grass nearby,” Selene said. “There was also water in the area, and the smell of algae, so probably a pond or lake instead of a river. The nearest inhabitants were humans, Doolies, and Mastanni, with other fainter scents in the distance. Cherno’s mansion had hyacinth and masala chai, and his garage had Craean lubricating oil for his cars.”
“There was a forest outside his office window with a mountain range in the distance,” I added, plugging in my data stick. “I drew a sketch from memory, but of course it’s only a rough rendition.”
“And from a single point of reference, too,” the admiral said, his eyes flicking to the side as the picture I’d drawn came through. “Well, I suppose it’s something. I’ll get our analysts on it right away.”
“There’s one other thing,” Selene said hesitantly. “I don’t have a good baseline for Cherno, but he reacted very strongly to the news that we couldn’t activate his portal.”
“Oh, definitely,” I agreed tightly.
“No, I don’t mean just that he was angry,” Selene said. “He was angry, but I think there was also fear and maybe even some desperation mixed in. He needs the portal to be functional, and he needs it that way within his six-week time limit.”
“Any ideas as to why?” the admiral asked.
Selene looked at me, and I could see the frustration in her pupils. Even with her extraordinary senses she sometimes had to fall back on gut instinct, and she hated that. “I’m sure it has something to do with our passenger,” she said. “But how everything fits together . . . I don’t know.”
“But we should have another clue soon,” I put in. “Floyd’s bringing her to the Ruth, and once we know who she is we may be able to figure out what Cherno’s got in mind.”
“Whatever it is, it’s not likely to be wholesome or civic-minded,” the admiral growled. “I’ve got half a mind to pull you out of this right now, and to hell with the portal.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” I warned. “Whatever Cherno’s planning, I doubt us disappearing from the scene will stop it. Not being able to use the portal might, but I somehow doubt that he doesn’t have a Plan B ready in the wings.”
“And he would be very unhappy with us,” Selene said with a shiver.
“To put it mildly,” I agreed. “Besides, if we bail now we’ll never find out who our passenger was going to be. Aren’t you at least a little bit intrigued?”
“You’d be well advised to rein in your more impulsive instincts,” the admiral warned. “There’s a saying about curiosity and cats, you know.”
“I prefer my father’s version,” I said. “As he used to say, Curiosity is what distinguishes us from the lower animals, and why we eat shellfish.”
“I’m sure he did,” the admiral said. “Very well, go and be curious. But keep us informed.”
“We will,” I promised. “One more thing. I told you that Cherno’s got his people looking for ruins that might be similar to the Erymant Temple. I presume you’ve already connected those dots and have done the same search?”
“We’re working on it,” he said, his eyes narrowed slightly. “There are a lot of worlds out there. I presume you’re asking for our list?”
“That would be highly appreciated,” I said. “My thought was that we can see what Cherno comes up with, then compare it to yours. Wherever they dovetail will be where we start our investigations.”
“That’s reasonable,” the admiral murmured. “Or we could let Cherno come up with his list and do our comparison then.”
I frowned. “So that’s a no on your list?”
“That’s a no,” he confirmed. “For now.”
“They’re just ruins, you know,” I reminded him. “Archeologists make lists of them all the time. One more isn’t going to raise any eyebrows.”
“Certainly not if no one sees it,” the admiral agreed. “Is there anything else?”
I glared at him. After Fidelio I’d made the case to Ixil that Selene and I needed better and faster access to Icarus Group’s information, and he’d promised to bring the request to the admiral’s attention. Apparently, it hadn’t gotten as much traction as I’d hoped. “No, I guess that’s it,” I said. “For now.”
“Then good luck,” he said, nodding to each of us in turn. “Oh, and let’s keep this bit about Cherno’s portal being Nask’s between ourselves for now.”
“You mean except for McKell if we happen to run into him?” I asked.
“I mean except for no one,” he said firmly. “Until I decide who and when to tell. Understood?”
I nodded. “Understood.”
“Good,” he said. “Check in again when you can. And be safe.”
The screen blanked. “Nice to know that our safety comes second to regular field reports,” I said, collecting my change. “A quick check for messages, then we’ll be off. I doubt Floyd likes to be kept waiting.”
“What about Trent?”
“Trent will just have to wait,” I said, keying for my mail drop. “We’ve got plenty on our plate already.”
* * *
Floyd and a tall woman were waiting at the foot of the Ruth’s ramp when we arrived.
At least, I assumed his companion was a woman. She was dressed in a loose black-and-dark-green wrap, belted at the waist and extending to mid-calf, with tall black boots and a matching narrow-brim black hat and gloves. Her figure beneath it all was a bit vague, but it showed enough of the usual feminine shape. A chin-length veil attached to the sides of the hat was wrapped around her lower face, leaving only her eyes and a narrow band of skin visible. The overall impression was that of style, comfort, and complete anonymity.
Floyd had avoided telling us anything about our passenger before now. Apparently, that coyness was going to extend into the trip itself.
“I trust we’re not late,” I said as Selene and I joined them.
“Not at all,” the woman said, her voice smooth and precise. “Mr. Floyd was just telling me about the Ruth. Interesting name.”
“We like it,” I said, turning to Floyd. “So this is where you leave us?”
“Yes,” he said, digging out a data stick and handing it to me. “Here’s the preliminary information you requested from Mr. Cherno. There may be additional entries over the next few days or weeks. They’ll be forwarded to your mail drop.”
“Excellent,” I said, dropping the data stick into my pocket. The admiral had wanted me to send him Cherno’s list of possible portal sites, and for a moment I considered asking for an additional hour and heading back to the StarrComm center.
But while our passenger seemed calm enough, I had the sense that she was impatient to get going. For once, the admiral could just wait. “I’m Roarke; this is Selene,” I continued, looking back at the woman. “And you are . . . ?”
“Call me Piper,” she said, looking up at the Ruth. “The ship is acceptable. I’ll let you begin prepping it for flight while I go and get my luggage.”
I felt my eyes narrow. I’d have thought she would have everything with her already. “Do you need help carrying any of it?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “From either of you,” she added, looking at Floyd.
“Whatever you say,” he said. “Roarke, good luck.”
“Do I get to know where we’re going?” I asked.
“Piper will give you your destination once she’s aboard,” Floyd said. “She has a few stops to make before we get to Mr. Cherno’s job.”
“We’ll begin with Vesperin,” Piper said. “Not too far from Balmoral, and it will give me time to decide on our next port.”
“Ah,” I said, my eyes narrowing a bit more. “If I may suggest, it might be simpler for all of us to just wait here until you’ve decided. I guarantee you’ll be a lot more comfortable in a hotel than aboard the Ruth.”
“I appreciate your concern,” she said. “But I like to travel. We’ll start with Vesperin.”
“Vesperin it is,” I said, conceding the point. “Though depending on where we’re ultimately going, there may be other intermediate points closer to your destination.”
“I’m not in any hurry.” Her eyes flicked to Floyd. “Am I?”
“Not right now,” he told her, a slight crease in his forehead. Either there was something he was deliberately not saying, or else he was confused himself by the delay. “We’re hoping that will change.” He locked eyes with me. “Soon.”
“We’ll all hope that,” I agreed. “Ah . . . if I may ask, what sort of business will we be doing on these other worlds?”
Floyd gave a sort of warning grunt. “That’s none of your—”
“It’s all right, Mr. Floyd,” Piper cut him off calmly. “They’ll have to know eventually. We might as well be up front about it.”
She paused, and from the way her veil creased I had the impression she was giving me a tight smile. “I’m a professional assassin, Mr. Roarke. Mr. Gaheen has hired me to kill someone for him.”
Distantly, through the stunned silence filling my head, I heard Floyd’s voice: “I said you wouldn’t like it.”
* * *
I was on the bridge, running the preflight and keeping one eye on the entryway monitor, when Piper returned.
Given that Cherno had implied his job wouldn’t happen for six weeks—closer to five weeks now, of course—I’d expected to see her hauling a fair amount of luggage. To my surprise, she had only two bags: one large and rolling beside her, the other a duffel slung over her shoulder. “She’s here,” I called down the corridor to Selene. “Is my cabin ready for her?”
“As ready as it can be,” Selene called back. “I’ve moved some clothing and your personal effects to the dayroom.”
Where I would be bedding down as long as Piper was aboard. I wasn’t crazy about giving up my cabin, but there were only two of them on the Ruth and I wasn’t about to ask Selene to give up hers. “Thank you,” I called. “Would you go let her in?”
“All right,” Selene said. “That was fast.”
“I doubt the art of sauntering is anywhere in her job description.”
Selene didn’t answer. I gave the displays a final look, confirmed that the diagnostics were proceeding correctly, then turned my attention to the display where I’d pulled up Floyd’s planetary data.
Despite my current opinion of Cherno, which after the revelation of this new employee was somewhere down in the seventh circle of hell, I had to admit that his people had done a terrific job of data sifting. They’d worked up a list of thirty ruins that had at least vague similarities to the Erymant Temple, ranked from most to least promising.
Of course, the fact that the experts gave the highest-rated ruins, on Niskea, only a six percent similarity to Erymant didn’t exactly fill me with confidence. Still, unless and until I could get the admiral to loosen up and feed me the Icarus Group’s data, it was all we had.
Our lift slot was three minutes away when Selene appeared on the bridge. “She all settled in?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at her.
“Yes,” Selene said, an odd tone to her voice.
I turned back for a closer look. There was a strange sort of confusion in her pupils. “Trouble? Let me guess—she doesn’t like my cabin.”
“No, she says the cabin is fine,” Selene said. “She looks very nice in that outfit, don’t you think?”
“Nice enough,” I said. “Though the fact that she kills people for a living takes a lot of the shine off her natural charm and attractiveness. Whatever attractiveness she’s hiding under that veil, anyway.”
“Yes; the veil,” Selene said, lowering herself carefully into the plotting table seat. “Very convenient.”
I looked at the countdown timer. Ninety seconds until the landing pad repulsor boost lifted us off the ground and into range of the perimeter grav beams. “Whatever you’re getting at, Selene,” I said, “get to it now, or else sit on it until we’re on our way.”
“I’ll get to it now,” she said. “That woman—the person unpacking her things in your cabin—isn’t the woman Floyd introduced us to.”
* * *
I swiveled fully around in my chair, feeling my mouth drop open, my right hand dropping reflexively to the Fafnir plasmic belted at my side. “What do you mean, she’s not the same woman?” I demanded. “Who is she?”
Selene shook her head, looking furtively down the corridor. “I don’t know,” she said, lowering her voice. “She looks like her, at least from what I can see. Same height, same hair and eye color, and her voice is either identical or very close. But her smell is entirely different.”
“And she’s wearing the same outfit.”
“Exactly the same outfit,” Selene said. “Her clothing also carries the scent of the first woman.”
I looked back at the timer, my stomach churning with indecision. I had about twenty seconds to call the tower and abort, or we were leaving the planet. “Were there any tears in the outfit?” I asked Selene. “Was it rumpled or dirty?”
“No,” she said. “And it wouldn’t take much to tear that veil if you were struggling not to give it up. The scents of both women were on the luggage, too.”
“First woman’s scent might have just been left over.”
“Yes, it might.”
Ten seconds. It was clear that there was some kind of con game going on.
But on whom? Selene and me? Ridiculous. We had no idea who either woman was. There was no reason to pull a swap unless someone just wanted the practice.
Floyd, then? He’d certainly seemed to know the woman he’d introduced us to. Swapping after he was gone would leave him fully convinced that we’d left with Piper.
And if the women were conning Floyd, they were probably conning Gaheen, too.
I came to a decision. Our passenger wanted us to believe she was Piper, and I saw no gain in blowing the whistle on her here and now. Actually, for all I knew, Piper was a joint alias for a whole group of assassins. Stranger things than that went on in the Spiral’s darker corners.
“What do we do?” Selene asked.
“We go as planned,” I said, turning back around to my board. “Strap in.”
Two seconds later, the Ruth rocked gently as the repulsors lifted us off the pad. Five seconds after that, the grav beams lanced out from their towers and pulled us up. I was ready, cutting in the Ruth’s thrusters as soon as it was safe and legal to do so, and we were off.
Twenty minutes later, with the haze of Balmoral’s atmosphere faded into the starry black of space, I activated the cutter array and we were on our way to Vesperin—Selene, me, and a mysterious passenger trying to conceal her identity who made her living killing people.
As my father used to say. Where there’s smoke there may be fire, but there’s almost certainly somebody trying to hide something.