Keylinn and Spider turned. Three armed Special Security guards were escorting two men. The men were middle-aged, and one wore SS trousers and a civilian shirt, not entirely tucked in. They looked as though they’d been routed out suddenly and not given time to pull themselves together.
“Officer Tulloch,” said Tal in greeting. “And Officer Brognara.”
The men’s faces were sullen, and just a little worried. “I asked these gentlemen to escort you here because I understand you haven’t been following my new guidelines. I thought they were more than generous. And more than clear.”
“Sir, I don’t think—” began Tulloch, a skinny redfaced man. He was the one in uniform trousers.
“Shut up, Tulloch.” Tal spoke without heat. “I’m not trying to change the habits of a lifetime overnight. All I require is that bribes be limited to protection cases, and not actual arrests. And that the fee schedule for protection money be reduced by ten percent each year. Is that asking too much? Doesn’t that give you all plenty of time to make other financial arrangements?”
Officer Brognara said sulkily, “We don’t take bribes.”
“I see this is a waste of time,” said Tal. “Still, though you’re both losses to my area, you can serve a useful function as warnings to others. All the arrests you made in the last ten days are being reviewed, by me personally. If even one is overturned for either of you, whichever man is responsible is going to the recycler line. We don’t I dally with a trial; this is Special Security, after all.”
They both looked horrified. “You can’t do that!” cried Tulloch. “Do you know who my family is?”
“Yes. They’re a minor bunch of functionaries who live mostly on D level. Maybe this will motivate them to pull their snouts out of the public trough. Wake up, Tulloch— nobody reviews Special Security. You know that, you’ve counted on that fact for years.”
Brognara said, “Wait a minute. I might have made a couple of mistakes—”
Tal withdrew his attention from them. To the guards, he said: “Please keep them in solitary holding cells until I notify you of the execution schedules.”
“Yes, sir.” The two prisoners looked as though they would have liked to say more, but the tip of a pistol was put to Tulloch’s shoulder and they both subsided.
Tal was glad that he’d remembered to say “please” to a subordinate in Keylinn’s presence. “Well,” he said. “So much for that. Let me show you the office.”
They followed him up the walkway. “I don’t think Adrian knows what he’s started,” stated Keylinn.
Tal didn’t pretend not to understand her. “He knows. He has his panthers, too. He likes to push things to the edge; it’s the only flaw I’ve been able to find in him.” Her voice was disapproving. “Do you always search your friends for flaws?”
“Well,” he said mildly, “you never know when you may find a flaw useful.”
Adrian checked his responses from all City departments. Transport had shut down, Communications had notified the Station and Baret Two (if anybody down there was listening) that they were readying to leave and would accept only emergency messages from now on. Inventory had taken on all the items they could manage in the allotted time. One man hadn’t come back from the Opal trade team, apparently; Adrian hoped for his sake that he was dead and not trapped forever on Baret Two.
Opal, Pearl, and Diamond had put their drives into coordination. It was time to send the word out to all citizens that Blackout was set for five hours from now.
His link blinked red. Adrian said, “Yes, what is it?”
“Communications, sir. You said to accept only emergency messages—”
“Yes, yes, what’s the problem?”
“There’s a small craft in our vicinity, and they say they have a message for Special Officer Diamond.”
“Have you warned them that they’d better not be close to us in five hours?” .
“Yes, sir.”
“All right. Put them through to me here.”
A moment later a woman’s voice said, “Special Officer Diamond?”
“This is Adrian Mercati, Protector of the City of Diamond. We’re preparing for Blackout, madam. What is your emergency?”
The woman’s voice was soft and cool. “I beg your pardon, sir.” She said sir, not cyr; she knew Cities protocol, he noted. “My shipmates and I are Redemptionists, nobility from Baret Two. We had to leave rather hurriedly, as I’m sure you understand.”
Irritation was replaced by guilt. “Yes, madam, how may we help you? I must warn you that our time is limited.”
“This won’t take long, sir. I understand from Duke Peter that gentleman named Officer Diamond was bargaining for pieces of art from some private collections. We have a few rare pieces with us and would very much like to see if he is interested in them—”
“I’m sorry,” began Adrian. “But you must see that in the circumstances we really don’t have the time—”
“Please, sir. I don’t need to tell you that any money we could raise would mean a lot to us under these conditions. All our wealth was on Baret Two. It would take less than an hour to dock with you and make an exchange.”
Adrian bit his lip. Then he said, “Wait.” He touched a button. “Adrian here. Is Security Chief Diamond in the War Room? Put him on.” Right first guess; he would’ve tried C deck next. ‘Tal? I’m talking to a woman who says she’s a refugee from Baret Two. She claims to have some artwork on board that she’d like to sell us before we disappear. Take a look at it and strike some kind of deal, would you? I’m going to be busy for the next few hours.”
“What about money?” asked Tal’s voice.
“I’ll pay. Be a little generous—even if the stuff doesn’t look very good, buy it anyway and add on some extra notes.”
“If that’s what you want.”
Adrian let him go and said to the woman, “Madam, I’m
