'Who are these people, Cit?' I asked our Ministry of Reform minder.
'ICAC,' he replied grimly. He had his handgun out and he was pale and sweating. 'Independent Commission Against Corruption. They can smell money in the dark, the bastards!'
'We have every right to be here, Captain,' the ICAC man was saying. He was a short, stocky man with long, slick dark hair. There was no doubt he was a professional police officer, and as single-minded as a biogen. He didn't look like the type of person who was going to back off. He waved a printout that showed Ranwan Lima, pale delicate face, short straight black hair, and smoky grey eyes. 'We wish to examine these two female units! There is a stop order on this one—why so touchy, if there is nothing to hide?'
'You are on our turf, mister—back off!'
'What's the Ministry of Reform doing here anyway? This unit is wanted by the governor, Captain! It's you who should consider the consequences!'
'That's got to be it, sir!' One of the blue shirts pointed at Whit. 'The one with the dark skin—the facial structure is the same!' My adrenalin count was off the scale. I was aching to shoot him right between the eyes, but I was unarmed. Our minder was on his comset.
'It's for Cit, Sir.' Our young Ministry of Reform watchdog held out the comset to the ICAC officer, who reached out for the instrument, casually brushing a gun barrel away from his temple with his other hand. He was as cool as ice.
'This is Major Fifteen Sweet-Teal of the ICAC. Who's calling?'
'Fifteen, this is Japrad Marsh, Director of Reform. We understand there's a little problem at the starport.' We could hear The Mask clearly. The VIP room was suddenly dead quiet.
'There's no problem, sir. We've just detained a wanted criminal that your Ministry was attempting to smuggle off-planet. We're just about to notify our superiors.'
'Please set the comset to muffled, Major.'
'Sure,' the Major said. He made the adjustment. 'Now, did Cit have anything further? We have a call to make.'
We could not hear the response, but it was clear that the Director of Reform did have something further.
###
Biergart was on his knees begging for mercy, his arms tied behind him, his face drenched in sweat. I pressed the vac gun to his forehead and fired. Blood and brains splattered all over the wall and the shot was deafening. I awoke screaming, covered in icy sweat, my heart racing.
Priestess was beside me, cool arms suddenly there, a whisper of silken hair on my cheek. 'It's all right, Thinker. Was it Biergart again?'
I collapsed back onto the pillow. It was dark and quiet and cool.
'Yes. It was Biergart. I shot him right in the forehead.' And his eyes—they had been full of horror.
'We had no choice, Thinker. You shouldn't feel bad.'
I thought about that. No, we hadn't any choice—we never had any choice. We did what we had to do. 'I suppose you're right,' I said. 'We're rats, in a maze. It's all a cosmic joke.'
'You'll feel better when we get back to Beta.'
'I'll feel better when I'm dead.'
'We're dead already, Thinker—everyone in the Legion is dead. You told me that yourself, remember?' Priestess was maddeningly calm. She was right, I decided. Immortal, dead—it was the same, in the Legion. We were Satan's spawn.
I hit the lights, and they came on slowly. It was a first-class cabin—the Lady Arbell would settle for nothing less. A cabin of spotless phospho white and pale rose crystal plex. It made me sick to see such waste. We were in the System Ship Nectar, bound for Monaro and worlds beyond. Monaro was our first port of call, and as soon as we cleared Customs there, The Mask would get his money. A King's ransom—it appeared that he had cut the anti- corruption boys in for a share of the loot, for we had been hustled onto the starship right after The Mask had spoken with the ICAC officer on the comset.
'We should thank that Warden fellow, don't you think?' Priestess asked.
'The Mask? Why thank him—he's getting a half million credits. He'd have happily popped us into a cell if somebody paid him more.'
'I suppose you're right.'
'Thank the Sandman, if you want to thank anyone. He found Whit for us.'
'He should get the half-million—not The Mask.'
'What did you give him?'
'Twenty thousand.'
'Maybe Tara can come up with something extra for him.'
'Did you make that call?' Priestess asked.
'I sent the message,' I replied. 'She'll know we're out, and headed for Monaro. Hopefully she can arrange a welcome, just in case the authorities have any reason to harass us.'
'I must admit she was right. In the System, money talks.'
'That's all that got us out. Tara's money—slave money.'
'It's strange how things work,' Priestess said sadly.
'All I want is to get back to Beta and have somebody hand me an E and point out the target,' I said. 'That's all I want. This civilian world is filthy. I feel unclean.'
'I feel the same, Thinker. It's too complex out there. Our world is simpler.'
'Yes—we're innocents, aren't we? Innocents.' Professional killers, I thought, in the service of the unborn.
###
Tara didn't even meet us at the door when we finally made it back to her residence on Mica 3. The ape-man Gildron showed us into the sunny study overlooking the pool. Tara was there, poised by a comdesk, totally stunning and totally at ease, warm sunlight glowing off pale brown skin, lustrous auburn hair cascading down to her shoulders, a faint smile playing at her wide mouth, a warm light in her Assidic eyes.
'Well, well,' she said calmly. 'Welcome back, guys. Is this anyone we know?' Whit was still in her Ala-Ka- Sakara getup, olive skin, curly black hair and dark eyes.
'Hello, Cinta,' Whit said timidly.
'That's a new look for Sub, isn't it?'
'We're so glad to see it, Cinta…we thought we'd never see it again.'
'You've caused us a lot of trouble, Sub,' Tara replied coldly.
'We're sorry, Cinta.' Whit was trembling, her eyes blinking rapidly. 'Did it…really pay a half million credits to get us back?'
'That will come out of your earnings, Sub. You can depend on that.'
'We were foolish not to listen to it, Cinta.' Tears, a river of tears, suddenly running down Whit's cheeks.
'The word is stupid. Now get to your quarters and clean up. We can talk later.' Tara's face was cold and hard. Whit turned and left the room, crying silently. She looked back once at Cinta, then stumbled away.
'Weren't you a little hard on her, Tara?' I asked. 'I thought you wanted her back.'
Tara turned her face away from us. 'Gildron,' she said throatily, 'bring dox.'
'Are duance,' Gildron replied, leaving the room. Tara turned back to face us, bravely, but she was blinking her eyes, and I could see they were wet.
'I wish to thank you all,' she said. 'You have restored my faith in humanity. I can't tell you how much this means to me. I thought I was completely alone. I asked for help and you came, without question, from across the galaxy. Yes, I wanted her back. When I saw her just now, I wanted to reach out and kiss her. But I don't want her to know that. I am in your debt, Beta Three. I am in debt to all of you. This kind of debt can never be repaid. The three of you have a claim on me, forever. If you ever need help, just call me. I'll come—you can bet your life on it!' A shudder ran over her slim body.
I was exhausted. Gildron came back with hot dox. My hands trembled as I opened the top. I could still see Biergart, sweating in the dark.
###
