getting to be fun.
The sun was coming up; it had been a quiet if chilly night for the crewmen watching the warehouseand the Hotel Pioneer. All would swear that none of them had been observed and that, so far as they knew Korf had slept the night away.
One of the Rhone shadows down the hall from Room 404-A jumped at a distant sound and realized that he’d been dozing. He looked down the hall as the elevator, a huge cage built with centaurs in mind, came up to a stop and the door slid back. A single person got out and walked down the hall. It appeared to be a young and pretty woman, dressed fit to kill, her walk an open invitation on a hundred worlds. She brushed back long brown hair and took out a small pad, consulted it, then started checking the numbers on the rooms until she reached 404 -A. That perked up the watch, both the man at the end of the hall and the others hiding in nearby rooms. She knocked and there seemed to be an answer from inside, then there was some fumbling and the door opened slightly. She pushed on it and strode in, closing the door quickly behind her.
“I’ll be damned,” snapped a tinny voice in the guard’s ear. “I thought he was a holy man or some- thin’.”
“You never know,” another cracked. “Now
The men would have been startled to discover that room 404-A held but a single occupant. The woman kicked off shoes and removed her wig and some plas-tine body molding but did not bother to get rid of the entire disguise. It was already dawn and Nathan Brazil wanted some sleep before he had to become Rabbi Korf again; he flopped on the bed and drifted off almost instantly. A slight smile lingered on his face at the thought that, should his shadows check the room after he left tomorrow, they’d get a hell of a shock from the case of the disappearing woman.
At the Warehouse—Noon
“He left about an hour ago,” the radio told them. “Tolga and Drur are on him. We still haven’t figured out the girl, though.”
Mavra looked grim. “I think I can guess,” she said dryly and signed off.
“The girl was Brazil, then?”
She nodded. “Of course, Marquoz. Simple thing, really, particularly with all his experience.”
“But how did he get out of that room?” the head Olympian wanted to know. “You said you had people watching it!”
Mavra shook her head, feeling a little stupid. “I’ve stolen millions from tougher places using any number of methods he could have used. Damn! My thinking’s rusty! I’ve depended on Obie too much! And he actually thumbed his nose at us by walking straight up to the room with a little petty ventriloquism and an unlatched door!”
“You know what this means,” Marquoz said apprehensively.
She nodded. “Yeah. He’s on to us.”
“And he hasn’t called, which means he’s going to try and make a break for it somehow,” the Chugach added. “I think we’re in big trouble unless we put the snatch on him now.”
Mavra thought furiously for a moment. “I don’t know. It’s broad daylight and so far we’ve only seen him in places that are crowded. He could call the cops to complain he was being followed or something and they could escort him right back onto his ship!”
“And what if he does?” the Olympian leader demanded. “What can we do then?”
“Call in Obie and kidnap the whole goddamn two and a half kilometers of it,” Mavra snapped angrily. She wasn’t mad at Brazil—in fact, it restored her faith in him and his legend—but, rather, at herself for being taken in so. At one time she had been the greatest thief in the history of the Com, and it was galling to be taken in this way.
They were still debating the mess when the electronic buzzer echoed through the empty warehouse. As they were yelling at each other, it was a moment before the meaning of the sound penetrated, then all fell silent suddenly.
The phone was ringing.
Mavra glanced over at a female Rhone crewmem-ber and nodded. The Rhone shrugged and walked to the phone, which lay on the floor where it’d been placed as the only real furnishing. No videophones on Meouit, at least.
On the fifth buzz the woman picked up the transceiver and said, “Durkh Shipping Corporation.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t speak the tongue,” a pleasant high-pitched voice came back to her. “Do you speak standard?”
“Of course, sir,” replied the agent in her best secretarial tones. “What may we do for you?”
“Wemay put me through to Madam Citizen Tourifreet, if you will,” replied the caller. “David Korf calling.”
“Ah—oh, yes, just a moment, sir.” The Rhone turned to Mavra and raised her eyebrows question-ingly, pushing the “hold call” button.
Mavra turned to the others. “Well? What do you make of this?”
“I’d say his curiosity has gotten the better of him,” Marquoz replied. “Either that or his late-night sojourn was devoted to tipping the odds in his favor.”
“What should I do, though—considering?”
The Chugach shrugged. “Go through with the original plan. After all, we only want to
She nodded and walked over to the phone, then pushed the button again, and said sweetly, “Tourifreet.”
“And a good day to you, Madam Citizen,” Korf’s voice replied pleasantly. “You wished to discuss some business?”
“Just Tourifreet, please,” she responded casually. “We use no titles. Yes, well, ah, I’ve been in touch with my father and I have all the particulars. Twenty standard containers, agricultural products.”
“Not much of a load,” he noted, sounding genuinely disappointed.
“I don’t know about that,” she replied coyly, “but we have no objection to your taking on other cargo than ours, I’m sure.”
“Destination?”
It’s amazing how he keeps up the fiction, she thought. He was the coolest operator she could remember, better, even than her long-dead thief of a husband. “Tugami—on the frontier. New routing, pretty far out, but it’s in a fine location for going elsewhere, or so my father says.”
She could hear voices behind him in the background. It sounded like a busy office or marketplace. She also heard the rustle of papers and then he said, “Oh, yes. I see. I don’t have all the frontier stuff in my navigational log. Yes, all right. I think I can pick up some minor Rhone sector cargo for intermediate drops. There’s no rush?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Very well, then. Shall we settle terms and sign the papers today? I want to move tomorrow at six.”
She resisted the impulse to suggest they meet for dinner. Rhone dining was quite different from human, for one thing; and, for another, if he was still playing Korf’s part he’d have his own kosher meals. “Why not drop over here when you’re free? Anytime this afternoon or early evening,” she suggested. “I haven’t much else to do.”
“All right, if you’ll give me directions,” he said smoothly. “Shall we say in an hour? I assume you’re near the port authority.”
“Very close,” she agreed and proceeded to give him detailed directions. They signed off with the usual pleasantries and she turned to the others. “What do you make of
Marquoz gave a dry chuckle. “That was the most entertaining show in town. Imagine!
