had the straight lines of the finest modern developments, and still other suburban communities surrounded the urban center.
The Zsytzii took them directly into the Arts district and set down in a park. The trip from Arina’s cabin had taken little more than an hour, as the building had not been located far from the City. She actually had an apartment in one of the modern towers, but spent most of her time out at the lake.
The advantage of Zsytzii transport in service to Covenant was that both Arina and Flynn had suitable clothing provided for them and were able to change en route. Flynn found the shirt, trousers, and jacket, all in black, save for his Roman collar, fit better than the things he normally wore. He was fairly certain that if he made a comment to that effect, suggesting it made him uncomfortable, Covenant would make sure other clothes were more normal fitted.
The uniform Arina had been supplied had been tailored to perfection and shaved five years off her. Dark blue, with red epaulets, cuffs and stripes down the pants, it had enough of a military cut to provide authority. It came complete with a black weapons’ harness that had a holster and an Agonizer at her right hip.
Flynn smiled. “Well, Colonel, it’s clear Covenant hasn’t forgotten why you were given a grant.”
“And here I all but had.” She nodded, then turned to the Zsytzii officer. “I did retire a colonel in the Qian Security Service, but it was a pension appointment. I will advise, not take the investigation from you.”
The Zsytzii frowned slightly and his juniors groaned. Zsytzii males were born in litters, with the Primary and his juniors having a mild telepathic link which was now often enhanced with cybernetics. The juniors had the intelligence of a six-year-old human—and not a Mozart among them. They functioned well for carrying out simple orders, and during the Zsytzii war had been very effective combatants because of their quickness and small size.
“Colonel Gadja, this is not a concern. We bow to your expertise and hope to learn from you.”
“I would be pleased to teach you anything I can.” Arina’s brows knitted in the concentration Flynn had so often observed. “I will need all the data Covenant can give me on the deceased and his activities, condensed, not raw. Where he has gone, what he likes, known associates, the personality composite Covenant has for him.”
Lavaryn nodded. “It shall be done before you will be finished with the crime scene.”
Flynn followed Arina from the transport and along the street to a small store of the sort that seemed about as common as fish in the universe. Flynn knew that the presence of water and other evolutionary pressures meant fish were found pretty much everywhere and, similarly, societies seem to produce shops that, to some, sold curiosities, but to others turned trash into treasure. This particular shop had enough dust coating everything that Flynn wondered if it hadn’t predated the Apogea project. Exotic knickknacks from hundreds of worlds and thousands of cultures filled every recess of the small shop, save for the narrow aisles meandering between piles. The sales counter had been built into the back wall, cutting off a doorway into the back. The threadbare curtain had been drawn back to show a shabby storage area choked with things on sagging shelves.
The store had clearly been created with an eye toward atmosphere. The floorboards creaked as they walked toward the counter. The air had a dry scent equal parts old leather, old wood and a hint of pungent alien musk. Had Flynn not been very conscious of the fact that he was on Apogea, he could have found himself anywhere in the Qian Commonwealth.
The body lay sprawled on the floor before the counter with a sheet pulled over it. The sheet had tented up toward the chest and when Arina pulled it back, the cause for that was readily apparent. A tusk of some sort had been shoved through the man’s chest. Flynn followed the curve of it with his eye and figured it had slid in and up to pierce his heart.
Arina squatted beside the body and turned the dead man’s face toward her. “Oh!”
“What is it?”
“I know him.”
Flynn came over and stood by the man’s feet. “He looks familiar to me, too. Did we see him at the spaceport?”
“No, we know him from Purgatory Station.” She smiled slightly. “His name was Flambeau? No, no, it was Fonteneau, that’s it, Stephen Fonteneau.”
“That was six years ago. He’d come to the station to steal that Golathi princeling’s coronet. You and Fith caught him. I remember speaking with him, hearing his Confession.” The priest rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I’d not have been thinking I’d see him again, especially after he escaped custody.”
“Oh, he was a slippery one. Fith knew that, so we split shifts, never left him alone until he was sent off to stand trial.” Arina smiled. “That was the case where Fith and I learned we really complemented each other.”
“I seem to recall you were fair inseparable after that.” Flynn nodded solemnly. Fith Chykip had been the Qian security director. He and Arina fell hard for each other and, despite Human-Qian pairings being infertile, decided to marry. Flynn had worked hard to get Father Ruxton to sanction the nuptials, and he’d been there to perform the Last Rites for Fith when terrorists widowed Arina.
Captain Lavaryn entered the shop and slipped a datapad from the holster on his equipment harness. “Colonel, the man’s name is David Holcomb. He is a contract worker, in month nine. Covenant reports he spends much time in the company of another hire, Deana Thompson, who lives near here. Holcomb was last reported to be in her apartment at midnight. There is no indication why he would be here, nor of his entering this place, nor of his ever having been here before.”
Arina blinked. “Covenant’s monitoring lost him?”
The Zsytzii nodded. “It happens on occasion when there is interference. Usually it is momentary, sometimes longer.”
“That’s interesting.” She frowned. “Who is assigned to this shop? Where is he?”
“The owner is Regan Park. We have sent a junior to fetch him, and another to bring Deana Thompson to the ship. We know where she is, but he seems to be missing.” He canted his head to the side slightly.
“She is coming.”
“I’ll need background data on her.” Arina stood. “I will need a complete forensic workup on his body. The medical center should be able to do the work.”
Flynn pointed at the thing in the man’s chest. “You know what that is, then?”
“Samuel Abrams—he used to run the Novajet Transport Corporation—has a hunting preserve on one of the southern islands. There are some fairly fantastic creatures there. Some are xenobiologicals, some are lab-born monsters—and that’s half a mandible set from something he called a ‘giant chigger.’ They’re supposed to be tougher than a Bouganshi to kill. I understand he’s got several mandible sets on display both in his home and at the hunting lodge.”
“So, they’re not the sort of thing that would be found in this shop, are they?”
She shook her head. “I’d say not. Captain, can you pull Covenant’s data on chigger pinchers?”
The Zsytzii hesitated as he silently worked his mouth through the pronunciation of “chigger pinchers.” “It shall be done, Colonel. Deana Thompson is in the ship now, but she has not been told why she is there.”
Flynn held the shop’s door open for Arina, then matched her stride back to the ship. “And you’d not be telling Lavaryn who Holcomb really is because…?”
“Not out of any suspicion of him. Seems to me, when he’s stressed, he bleeds some thought and emotion into his juniors. Learning Holcomb was a bold thief might shake his confidence, and he might let something slip that a junior would tell Deana Thompson. Keeping the true identity a secret for the moment is best.”
“I can see that, yes.” He looked at her. “And how are you doing knowing a serpent has crawled into this garden?”
Arina stopped, blinking her eyes with surprise. “You know, I’d just sort of slipped back into the job, and wasn’t thinking of the grander implications.”
“You’d have gotten there.”
“Possible. And it’s not just one serpent; it’s at least two. Fonteneau shouldn’t have been here. Somehow Covenant lost track of him. So we need to know why he was in that shop, why he was here on Apogea, and what he’s been doing for the last nine months. It’s a legion of snakes.”
They returned to the transport and found Deana Thompson sitting all tight and small in the passenger compartment. One of the juniors had fetched her a cup of tea. The petite woman nervously tucked a strand of blond hair behind one ear. She gave them a hopeful smile. “Hi.”
