“What they may not’ve told you is that at least one of our client’s own security people has been killed while working on this simple task.”
Saint sat up, his rocker wiggling. “One doesn’t expect class reunions to be fraught with such violence.”
“This is more than a reunion,” said Smith. “Now, maybe the Whistler Agency doesn’t know much more than they told us, and maybe they do. What I know is that the Trinidad Law Bureau, which is the interplanetary police force for all three of the planets in this system, has a man working on this same job.”
Cruz asked, “Who?”
“Deac Constiner.”
“Heartless bloke,” murmured Saint.
“He’s good, though,” said Cruz. “TLB doesn’t stick ops like him on a simple job.”
“There’s also somebody else interested in me, in Constiner and probably in the missing Horizon Kids,” said Smith. He filled them in on what had happened aboard the spaceliner.
“We ought to ask for extra hazard pay,” suggested Cruz, when he’d finished.
“There’ll be a bonus if we bring this off.”
Saint said, “Why is everyone so dashed interested in these particular kiddies?”
“Horizon House was the home of Doctor Noah Westerland,” answered Smith. “He ran a research facility for the triplanet government. Most people called it the Miracle Office.”
“Ah, good old MO,” said Saint, scratching at his curly red hair. “They’re the jolly chaps who invented the dustgun, the braintap machine, Kilgas #3 and sundry other droll weapons and knickknacks.”
“Doctor Westerland is deceased,” said Cruz. “But it’s possible these missing Horizon House alums are privy to one of his dark secrets, huh?”
“That’s sure as hell the impression I get from Constiner.”
Cruz sucked in his cheek. “Therefore, comrades, our mission becomes a shade more challenging,” he said. “We have to find the lost HH gang and we ought to learn why they’re really wanted.”
“I’d like to begin this way,” said Smith. “Saint, with your telek abilities and your knack for ingratiating yourself into people’s confidence-”
“It’s plain and simple charm, old man, not a knack,” corrected the compact green man. “Can’t help it, don’t you know, I am just naturally appealing to one and all.”
“Use your charm to get a look at the Triplan, Ltd. files relating to this business,” Smith told him. “They’re our clients and I’m assuming they must know the real reason for this hunt.”
“Headquarters near here, I do believe, in the territorial capital?”
“Yep.” Smith turned to Cruz. “I’ve got a list of the five missing people. I knew them all, so-”
“That’s right, you’re also a grad of that establishment.”
“I am, yeah. Point is, I’ve gone over the field reports of the Triplan security people.” He picked up a sheaf of yellow faxpape. “In at least one case I think they missed following up a lead, simply because they didn’t know as much as I do about these five. Cruz and I will start tracking while Saint-”
“Begging your pardon, gate.” Bosco came toddling into the bright parlor. “I hate to crash your jam session, cats, yet there is an important call on the pixphone for the sahib.”
Smith asked, “Who?”
“From Triplan, Ltd., tuan,” explained the little servobot. “The lady must speak with you at once.”
“Lady?”
“Her name is Jennifer Arloff and she mentioned that she is an old friend of yours.”
CHAPTER 8
She held out her hand, smiling quietly. “I lied to your robot,” Jennifer said. “I wasn’t calling from Triplan. And I lied to you, too, Jared. This isn’t an official client and agency meeting.”
Smith shook her hand. “Maybe it isn’t a good idea to-”
“But this is about the case. Can we walk for a while?”
He’d come to one of the marinas in the capital to meet her, a long curving stretch of low glaz and neowood buildings along the edge of the sea. There was a restaurant nearby where they had met fairly often. A long time ago.
“We can walk,” he said.
A faint midday breeze was drifting in across the bright ocean.
“You look,” she said, “fit and well.”
“You look sad.”
“Imagination.”
“Probably.”
“You’re all right, happy and all?”
“Laughing from dawn to dusk.”
“There are still times when I miss you, Jared.”
“Not too many.”
She said, “If you meet my husband, don’t mention I called you or talked to you like this.”
“Whistler operatives are discreet.”
She slowed. “When I learned you’d be working on this, I wanted you to be told everything. My husband didn’t agree.”
“But you’re telling me now anyway.”
“Something’s happened.”
“I know about your security man’s being killed.”
Jennifer shook her head impatiently. “You remember Hal Larzon?”
“One of the Horizon Kids, sure.”
“He’s dead.” She stopped walking, paused on the white gravel path and looked out at the glittering sea. “He was murdered.”
“When?”
“Late yesterday. We found out this morning,” she answered. “Whoever did it used a kilgun on him.”
“Where was Larzon?”
“Here, in the capital. We’d brought him in for the for the…reunion.”
Smith said, “His name isn’t on my list. Does he tie in in some way with the others?”
“Oh, hell,” she said quietly. “The damn reunion is just a cover. Of the forty-three Horizon Kids we’re only interested in ten. Half we were able to find on our own, but the others have simply dropped from sight. After Schuster, our security agent, was killed, my husband decided we needed some outside help.” Slim shoulders slightly hunched, Jennifer began walking again.
He walked close beside her, careful not to touch her.
“Larzon was one of the ten?”
“Yes, and they got to him.”
“Who?”
“We’re not sure, but it seems likely that Syndek Industries is involved somehow.”
“That’s Triplan’s largest rival hereabouts.”
“Yes, they are.”
“Is that how you folks do your business, by killing each other off?”
“You ought to know what it’s like on this planet, since you were a lawman here once.”
Smith asked, “Why are these ten HH kids on your list?”
“It has to do with…with something my father was working on just before he died. I…well, I can’t give you all the details, but it’s important.”
“A weapon?”
“No, but something important, and valuable.”
“Why wait all this time after your father’s death to go tracking people down?”
