“So why go to the inner system?” I asked. “Answer: Either they needed to do some prep work away from Modhra, or they needed to take something there or pick something up.”
“Okay,” she said, still sounding puzzled. “Again: So?”
“Remember what the Spiders said about the Bellidos who followed us onto the Sistarrko train? The third-class group were in the last coach, the one right in front of the baggage car. I never got around to telling you, but the ones who jumped me in the Jurskala Quadrail also seemed to have been in the very back, too, the seats just in front of the baggage car. You seeing a pattern?”
“But all the cargo back there is unsecured,” she said. “If they had something valuable to transport, shouldn’t they have put it in the secured cargo areas instead?”
“Normally, yes,” I agreed. “But secured cargo automatically gets more attention, official
“All right,” she said slowly. “What do you think they were transporting?”
“No idea,” I said. “That’s where you come in. I want you to send a message to the Spiders and get a list of all the cargo and baggage that came off our Quadrail. I presume you have an encryption you can use?”
“Well… yes,” she said. “But I’m only supposed to use it for emergencies.”
“Close enough,” I said. “And get everything, not just stuff coming in under Belldic registration—they might have used a dummy name. And don’t forget about the bugs in the suite.”
We arrived at the suite, and Bayta got started on her message while I took a quick shower and chose some nice semi-formal clothing from the closet. One other chore and I was gone, feeling a little guilty at leaving Bayta alone with the room service menu.
I needn’t have rushed. Losutu and Applegate, as befitted their high-level bureaucrat and high-level bureaucrat flunky status, were nearly fifteen minutes late. “Compton,” Losutu greeted me curtly as they sat down at the table I’d procured for us. “Got us something not too close to the damn coral, I see. Good.”
“You don’t like Modhran coral?” I asked, focusing for a moment on the decorative waterfall/coral arrangement in the center of the room. It wasn’t as impressive as the display in the casino, but of course the Redbird wasn’t as large and impressive a place to begin with.
“Hate the stuff,” he declared as he punched up the menu. “I will never understand the obsession the rest of the galaxy seems to have with it. It’s not particularly attractive in the first place, and after a few bumps it’s going to look like a badly trimmed hedge.”
“It’s also apparently the Halkan equivalent of cuddlestuff animals,” Applegate added. “You talk with anyone here long enough, and sooner or later he’ll try to get you to go over and touch it.”
“Yes, I’ve had one or two such invitations myself,” I said. “I can’t say I see the attraction.”
“Coral’s such rough, pointy, scratchy stuff,” Applegate agreed with a grunt as he studied the menu. “Someone really needs to introduce these people to satin and velvet.”
“Nice that we can all agree on something,” Losutu said, eyeing me. “Now convince me we can agree on something important. Applegate seems to think you can be helpful to the Directorate on this starfighter deal.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” I said. “My primary obligations are still to my employer, but I should be able to take a quick trip to Modhra II with you and look at the Chaftas. Provided you can drop me off at the Balercomb Formations afterward.”
“The what?” Losutu asked, frowning.
“That’s where he was planning to go tomorrow morning on the tour bus,” Applegate explained.
“The bus is a ground transport, I presume?” Losutu asked.
“Yes,” I said. “They don’t want even Shorshic thrusters coming too close to the formations.”
Losutu grunted. “Fine. We’ll see if Applegate can work his diplomatic magic and can get us permission to land you nearby.”
“Good,” I said. “The next question is how much use I’ll actually be to you. Starfighters are hardly my area of expertise.”
“Cards on the table, Mr. Compton,” Losutu said. “Your technical expertise or lack of it is irrelevant. All I need from you is an endorsement that would help sell this plan to the Western Alliance.”
“I understand,” I said evenly. I’d been fairly repulsed by the whole cynical scheme when Applegate had first suggested it, and it didn’t sound any better coming from Losutu. But at least he was being honest about it. “Let me look at the fighters and I’ll let you know.”
For a moment Losutu studied my face. Then his lip quirked microscopically, and he nodded. “Fair enough,” he said. “We’ll expect you at the lodge’s main entrance tomorrow morning at ten.”
The toboggan tunnel work schedule I’d pulled from the hotel computer just before coming to dinner had indicated the crew was due on site at seven. That should give me plenty of time. “I’ll be there,” I promised.
“Good,” Losutu said, leaning back in his seat and gesturing to the menu. “Then while we eat you can tell us all about this new travel job of yours.”
“Certainly,” I said, shifting my brain into liar mode. It was becoming an increasingly easy transition for me to make. “I was approached about three months ago.…”
The evening turned out to be considerably more pleasant than I’d expected, despite the fact that I didn’t particularly like or trust either of my dinner companions. Losutu could be rather charming when he chose, in a cold- fish sort of way, and Applegate had apparently decided to abandon the comrades-in-arms approach he’d tried on the Quadrail and let Losutu do most of the talking.
We had a long and leisurely dinner, the full traditional Halkan five courses plus the knotting of wish sticks at the end. Once I’d finished my travel-agent story the conversation turned to Losutu’s dealings with the rest of the galaxy on the Confederation’s behalf, a monologue heavy on amusing stories and light on useful information.
As promised, Applegate picked up the tab on the UN’s behalf, and I was making my farewells when Losutu suggested we go see a show. For no particular reason I said yes, and we headed up to the theater section nestled just beneath the ice. The show he chose was a Cimman production, but it had been written broadly enough to be at least marginally accessible to other species. I’d always thought of Cimman drama as a cross between Japanese Kabuki theater and English Reformation comedy, and this one in particular seemed to hit just the right notes. I enjoyed it thoroughly, and by the time it was over I was feeling more relaxed than I’d been since I’d walked down the steps at the New Pallas Towers that dark evening seventeen days ago. Leaving Losutu and Applegate at the elevator bank—they were going to the theater lounge to hammer out final details for the morning’s inspection tour —I got into one of the elevators and punched for my floor.
At least, I thought I’d punched for it. But when the doors slid open, I found myself gazing instead down into the casino.
My first impulse was to stay in the car and simply make sure I hit the right button this time. But between the background hum of conversation, the clicking of the dice and chips and chinko tiles, and the effervescent sparkle of the waterfall, I found myself instead stepping out of the elevator and walking down the ramp to the main floor. No matter how quickly Bayta had gotten her message off she couldn’t possibly have gotten an answer yet, so there really wasn’t any need for me to hurry back to the suite. Besides, a little judicious eavesdropping might sift out a useful nugget or two.
I spent some time wandering the casino, watching the games and keeping my ears open. Again, though, all the conversations seemed to center on fluff and trivialities. I made a complete circle of the floor, shifted to a sort of lopsided figure eight, then finally went with a straight inward vector.
And so within a few minutes of my arrival, I found myself standing by the central fountain.
I gazed down into the pool, watching how the lapping water gently surging around the coral caught the casino’s lights, adding an extra sparkle to the subtle color display. It really
Besides, even if they weren’t, what was the big deal? At worst, I’d get a scratch or two. At best, I’d be able to go to Bayta and tell her what a rewarding experience it had been—
I frowned, my train of rationalization braking to a sudden halt. Bayta, who had gazed into my eyes with a face more filled with concern than any of my superiors at Westali had ever shown, and had begged me to promise I would never touch Modhran coral.
