The Third Lynx

moment of adulation. Let's go find Bayta and see what kind of tickets she was able to get.'

TWENTY-THREE :

'Thank you, Mr. Compton,' the Nemuti customs agent said, his truncated cone-shaped mouth orifice and extra-deep voice making the words echo like they were coming out of a deep cave. 'Enjoy your visit. May your heart give joy to your soul.'

'And may your soul rest peacefully in its joy,' I said, giving the proper response. Setting my carrybags on the floor, I keyed my leash control and headed through the doorway into the main part of the Laarmiten transfer station.

'How long before they show up, do you think?' Morse asked as he came alongside me.

'No more than a few hours,' I said. 'The Modhri's as anxious to get this over with as we are.'

Morse glanced back at the carrybags rolling along behind us. 'I'll be very interested to see where you've hidden the Lynx.'

'I hope it'll be worth the wait.'

We passed through another doorway into a wide, mall-like area with the usual selection of restaurants, shops, waiting rooms, and entertainment centers. Stafford and Bayta were standing off to one side, waiting for us. 'Any problems?' I asked as Morse and I came up to them. 'That agent seemed awfully interested in your artwork.'

'He was mostly wondering why I was still bothering to lug the pieces around,' Stafford said sourly. The Modhri had been very thorough in his search for the sculpture back at Trivsdal, to the point of making five or six pieces out of Stafford's log. Stafford was clearly still annoyed about that. 'I told him it had sentimental value.'

'Why are you still lugging them around?' Morse asked.

'Sentimental value,' he said. 'What now?'

'We'll set up camp over there,' I told him, pointing to the nearest waiting room. 'If we stay near that archway we should be able to see all the entry doors. We don't want the Modhri to have to come looking for us.'

My time estimate turned out to be a bit on the pessimistic side. We'd been in the waiting room less than two hours when Penny appeared through the door from customs, looking pale and stressed but otherwise unharmed. Accompanying her, to my complete lack of surprise, were Gargantua and his fellow Halkan soldier.

Stafford was out of his chair and over to Penny before she'd made it five steps past the doorway. 'You all right?' he asked anxiously, taking her hands in his. Gargantua made as if to interfere; a brief warning look from Stafford and he changed his mind.

'I'm fine,' she said, some of her old fire showing through the tension in her voice.

'They've been treating you all right?' he persisted as the rest of us came up.

'She is unharmed,' Gargantua said.

Stafford sent him another look, this one managing to combine utter contempt and complete dismissal. I made a mental note to learn how to do that one. 'They've been treating you all right?' he repeated.

'Yes,' Penny said, turning a brief glare of her own on Gargantua. 'But he's made a few veiled threats as to what will happen if he doesn't get the Lynx.'

'Don't worry, he'll get it,' I said. 'Whenever you're ready, follow me.'

We set off across the station, heading past the waiting areas toward the long wing where torchliners waited to carry our fellow Quadrail passengers into the inner system. Gargantua, I noted, kept a firm but casual-looking grip on Penny's upper arm as we walked.

Just outside the embarkation stations was a room containing the lockboxes that the Spiders had ferried over from the Tube. I stepped to one of the tables, presented my claim ticket, and was given a long, flat shoulder box. 'I should have guessed,' Morse commented as we went to a small conversation nook off the far side of the corridor. 'Nice, safe, and inaccessible during the trip.'

'Do you seek again to trick me?' Gargantua rumbled warningly as I set the case down on the nook's low table. 'I saw all items leaving Ghonsilya.'

'And probably scanned them, too,' I agreed. 'Observe, and learn.' With a little flourish, I popped open the case.

Penny gave a little gasp of surprise. 'That's a gun!'

'It is indeed,' I confirmed, lifting it out and putting it on the table beside the case. 'A Rontra 772 submachine gun, to be precise.'

'Impossible,' Gargantua said, prodding at the case's custom-molded interior with a thick finger. 'There's no room in here for the Lynx.'

'Not in the case, anyway,' I agreed, producing my multitool.

And as they watched, I unfastened the Rontra's barrel and slid it off, revealing the Lynx tucked away inside the weapon's outer shell.

'Bloody hell,' Morse muttered as I set to work taking apart the rest of the gun. 'I wouldn't have believed the Lynx would fit into something even that size.'

'It is a cozy fit,' I conceded. 'I had to pretty much gut the thing to get it in, and then add on this extra cooling sleeve to make it work.'

'Where did you get it?' Penny asked, still sounding stunned. 'I mean …I didn't think you worked for Westali anymore.'

'That's the wonderful thing about the free enterprise system,' I told her. 'You can find anything you want on the galaxy's various black markets.'

She shivered. 'I suppose.'

I finished the operation in silence. A moment later, with the pieces of what was left of the Rontra scattered around the table, I held up the Nemuti Lynx. 'Okay,' I said, turning to Gargantua. 'Your turn.'

'Take her,' he said, letting go of Penny's arm and taking the sculpture. Without another word, he and the other Halka turned and joined the line of people heading for the torchliner boarding areas.

Morse heaved a sigh. 'So that's it,' he said. 'No crime, no suspect; and now no evidence. Might as well not even have made the trip.'

'No, we still have a crime,' I said. 'Mr. Kunstler's murder, remember?'

'Like we're actually going to solve that now,' he said with an edge of bitterness.

'We might,' I said. The two Halkas had passed through a wide archway and angled out of our sight. 'As for the evidence, don't count that out yet, either,' I added. 'I'll be right back.'

I crossed to the edge of the archway and cautiously looked through. There were a fair number of passengers streaming down the corridors, but Gargantua's size made him easy to pick out of the crowd. As I watched, the two of them turned into the third of the five hatchways, paused briefly at the registration desk, and disappeared inside.

I looked at the schedule listing above my archway. The torchliner behind that door was heading for the city of Parrda, on the Central Continent, and was scheduled to leave in three hours. Smiling, I retraced my steps to the rest of our group.

'Well?' Morse asked as I came up.

'They're taking the Lynx to Parrda,' I told him.

'Good,' Stafford said. 'Let's get us some tickets.'

Penny and Morse both looked at him in astonishment. Penny got the words out first. 'What in the world are you talking about?' she demanded. 'I just got away from those people.'

'They killed Uncle Rafael,' he reminded her.

'You can't do anything about that,' Penny protested.

'Maybe not,' Stafford said. 'But they also have my sculpture, and I want it back.'

'Relax,' I put in as Penny visibly gathered herself together for another try. 'We're not going to just charge aboard the torchliner and demand they return Mr. Stafford's property. I had something a little more circumspect in