The Third Lynx

He looked sharply at me. 'Oh?'

'And I was out of the solar system when it happened,' I hastened to assure him.

'I'm sure you were,' Stafford said. 'Anyway, Uncle Rafael decided he'd better get the Lynx off the estate before whoever it was tried it again.'

'So he gave you the sculpture, a handful of cash sticks, some fake ID, and told you to lose yourself?'

'Basically. I hopped the next flight out of Paris and headed for the Quadrail.'

'Did Mr. Kunstler also suggest you come to Ghonsilya to find the Viper?' Bayta asked.

'Actually, that was my idea,' Stafford said. 'I'd been off the estate a couple of weeks, just riding the Quadrail and staying away from anyplace where I might be recognized, when I got a message from him. His would-be buyer had surfaced again, this time offering to trade the Lynx for the Hawk that had been stolen from a collector on Bellis. He told me he was thinking about going to Bellis to contact the person and size up the situation.'

'Secure in the knowledge that the Lynx was well out of the buyer's reach,' I said grimly. 'Unfortunately for him, the buyer didn't know that.'

'And I gather arranged an ambush,' Stafford said, a shiver running through him. 'What the hell are these damn sculptures, anyway? And don't tell me they're just bombs. No one kills just for bombs.'

'I don't know,' I said. For the moment, at least, there was no need for him to know about the sensor chameleon aspect. 'But for our current purposes it doesn't really matter. Just on general principles, if the bad guys want something, you want to keep it away from them.'

'And hope you can stay alive in the process,' Stafford murmured. 'Do you at least know who killed my uncle?'

'We know who ordered the attack,' I said, choosing my words carefully. 'It's not quite clear yet which specific individuals carried it out.'

'But you'll get them, won't you?'

'The plan is to ultimately nail the whole gang,' I said. 'But it might take a while.'

'Doesn't it always?' he said. 'So what's the plan? Grab the Lynx and get out of here?'

'We definitely grab the Lynx,' I said. 'The getting out part is going to be a little trickier. It turns out that the gang is holding a couple of hostages for my good behavior. An ESS agent named Morse, who was sent to find you and bring you back to Earth.' I braced myself. 'And a young lady named Penny Auslander.'

Stafford stared at me, and even in the dim light I could see some of the color drain from his face. 'Penny's here? In God's name—?'

'Easy,' I soothed him. 'She was just following your instructions.'

He swore under his breath. 'She and the others were supposed to go to Ian-apof,' he said. 'They were just supposed to throw anyone looking for me off the scent.' He glared at me accusingly, as if Penny's presence here was my fault.

Which, technically, it was. 'So I gathered,' I said. 'Unfortunately, the gang saw through it. Anyway, the point is we have to get them free before we take off.'

'Do you know where they are?'

'No, but I know where they'll be tomorrow night,' I said. 'Tell me, in your time here in Paradise have you found out who the best ceramic workers are?'

'I know a couple of good ones,' he said. 'But I can do ceramic work, too, you know.'

'No offense, but what we need right now is a professional,' I said. 'You think you could go get one of them and bring him here?'

'Probably,' Stafford said, not moving. 'What's the plan?'

'The plan is for you to go get your sculptor friend,' I said patiently. 'That's all you need to know right now.' I took another look at his face. 'Don't worry, you're not going to just be sitting around twiddling your thumbs. Oh, and we might need a set of metalworking tools, too, including a small plasma torch.'

For a long moment he gazed hard at my face. Then, abruptly, he got up and strode out of the room. 'I don't think he trusts you,' Bayta said.

'Nothing I can do about that,' I said. 'If Uncle Rafael's recommendation isn't good enough for him—'

'I meant I don't think he trusts you about Penny.'

I broke off. 'Oh.'

For a moment we stared across the room at each other in silence …and as I gazed into her eyes something she'd said earlier suddenly penetrated my consciousness. Danger and tension can bring people together. I know that.

I know that …

I'd thought I'd been accepted into Bayta's inner circle. Apparently, I'd made it inside that circle a little farther than I'd realized.

'Bayta, this has nothing to do with you,' I said quietly. 'It's me.'

'I know that,' she said. 'That's what has me worried. You've closed yourself off from people for so long that …well, it all just seems to be happening too fast. For anyone, but especially for you.'

'And especially with someone like Penny?'

Her lip twitched. 'I just don't want you to get hurt.'

'Hurt is my middle name,' I told her, trying to strike a little lighter note. 'I can handle it.' I stood up. 'Come on.'

'What are we going to do?' she asked, standing up, too.

'We start by getting the Lynx,' I told her. 'The fire should have burned down enough by now.'

'What about Ms. Auslander and Mr. Morse?' she asked.

'Well, we can't just leave them here,' I said reasonably. 'Much as I'm tempted in Morse's case.'

'So again, what are we going to do?'

'Whatever it takes,' I said. 'Come on. I want the Lynx in hand before Stafford gets back.'

NINETEEN :

Fayr had said earlier that Ghonsilya was a relatively poor world, as these things went, with only a few of the utterly obscenely wealthy that formed the upper crust on many other planets. Still, the place clearly boasted at least a fair representation of the only moderately obscenely wealthy.

And judging from the crowd still flowing into the Magaraa City Art Museum's auditorium, it looked like every one of them had turned out for the auction.

I was seated in one of the aisle seats about three-quarters of the way back from the stage when Bayta returned from her reconnoiter and sat down beside me. 'Anything?' I asked.

She shook her head. 'I saw three Halkas, but they weren't the Modhri's soldiers. At least, they weren't either of the two we've met. You?'

'I've collected a lot of dirty looks for hogging the aisle seats,' I told her. 'Other than that, nothing.'

She peered up over the heads of the people, mostly Tra'ho'seej, seated around us. 'What if he doesn't come?'

'He will,' I assured her. 'The big question is what kind of backup he'll have with him.'

'He doesn't want the local police authorities in on this,' she reminded me.

'Unless he's brought in walkers high enough in the pecking order to keep the cops under control.'

Abruptly, Bayta craned her neck upward a little. 'Frank—that Tra'ho in the back of the room in the rider chair,' she said. 'Is that one of the oathlings from last night?'

I studied the distant alien face. 'Could be,' I said. 'Especially in that chair. He's probably still having trouble with his balance.'

'But he is now able to see,' a gruff Halkan voice said from above me.