After dinner the two men moved into the bar and once the maitre’d told the bartender who they were, they were served two foaming mugs of beer. A news update on KXUT interrupted the rayball highlights.
“Hey, that’s the bitch now,” exclaimed Daddy, blowing beer all over the bar.
Sarah and Bili were both shown in a news snippet concerning the mysterious disappearance of an entire farming family. The announcer explained that they had been connected with the failed smuggling attempt on Wednesday and were being held at the Hofstetten detention center for questioning. The cameras did a slow pan of the house, the yard and the bloody mess in the barn. Militia officer Choy came on for about three seconds, saying that a rogue landshark was probably responsible, that perhaps the family had tried to harbor landshark hatchlings and had paid the ultimate price.
Mudface whistled and squinted at the holo-plate. “What the hell did she get herself into? They said something about another smuggler. Could we have some competition horning in on us here?”
“We’ll find out,” said Daddy, blowing the top off another mug of beer. “We’ll find out everything.”
A long low limo pulled off the cross-colony highway and slid into Hofstetten’s main street. Governor Hans Zimmerman himself rode in the back, fuming. The limo floated up to the gates of the militia detention center and was quickly admitted.
Irritably, Zimmerman brushed past the guard at the door, shoving his ID card at the duty Sergeant. Surprised, the Sergeant ran the card through the checker and nodded him through to the Captain’s office. The Captain, having only just gotten word of Zimmerman’s visit, was still busy shoving papers, holo-disks and bottles into his desk.
“What a pleasant surprise this visit is, Governor,” he said, rubbing his hands together and snapping the top buttons of his uniform.
“Cut the crap,” Zimmerman commanded, making a sweeping gesture. “I’m here to take custody of that woman and her kid.”
“The ones from Dev’s farm?” asked the Captain, surprised.
“Yes, yes, be quick about it, man.”
“I must say, Governor, this comes as a shock.”
“Yes,” sighed the Governor. “It’s a bit of a surprise for me, too.”
“But our magistrate hasn’t even set bail yet, sir. They haven’t even been charged yet, although it looks like they’ll at least get smuggling and resisting arrest. We haven’t figured out what they had to do with the murders of the family of farmers.”
“Murders? I thought the family had simply disappeared.”
“Yes, well, the evidence shows that the family members were indeed killed, along with much of their jax herd.
“I’m too busy for such nonsense just now, Captain.”
“But we haven’t even set bail yet, sir,” repeated the Captain with emphasis.
Zimmerman glared at the man for several seconds. “So you want money, is that it?” He stifled the man’s protests with upraised hands, pulling out a checkbook. He keyed in his code and the device instantly spit out a 5000 credit voucher. “This will have to take care of it.”
The Captain eyed the amount critically.
“Well? Are you going to get them or do I have to order my deputies into your cellblock?” demanded Zimmerman.
“I will get them, Governor,” said the Captain stiffly. “I must point out, however, that the amount is certainly less than what the magistrate would set for charges of such gravity. I assume, of course, that your office would be good for the difference in case anything, ah-unexpected should happen.”
“Of course,” said Zimmerman. He made a dismissive gesture. “I must say that I find your demeanor less than cordial, Captain.”
Tucking the credit voucher into his breast pocket, the Captain manufactured a smile. “If you would be so good as to wait in the outer office, I will have the prisoners delivered to you. The duty Sergeant will handle the required processing of codes. Oh, and by the way, do you wish them to be under restraints?”
“Yes, certainly. Magnetic cuffs should be sufficient.”
Sarah and Bili were hustled up the stairs and through the security gate. There they were greatly surprised to meet Governor Zimmerman, whose face they recognized from the holo-plate news snippets. He had with him three burly men wearing autoshades set to extra dark.
Governor Zimmerman flagged a second limo, which pulled up behind the first. “If you two will excuse me,” he said, “I’m late for a dinner engagement.” He gave Bili an absent pat on the head and graced Sarah with a smile and a nod before climbing into his limo.
The deputies still gripped Sarah’s elbow. She twisted her hands, but the magnetic cuffs held as if welded. “Where are you taking us?” she demanded. Loose strands of hair hung down into her face, matted with sweat.
“Right this way, madam,” said one of the deputies, his eyes invisible behind midnight-black shades.
They were escorted to the second limousine and shoved into the back. Seated comfortably in the plush interior was the unmistakable fat form of Daddy. Mudface was driving, wearing a peaked driver’s cap. His idiot grin spread wider at Sarah’s expression of despair. He touched his cap to greet them.
The doors slammed and the two limos floated away in opposite directions.
The culus that had followed Sarah and Bili from Dev’s farm detached itself from an exhaust chimney and slid through the air in silent pursuit.
Twelve
Outside the spaceport compound, Ari Steinbach was beside himself with frustration. He had assembled an army consisting of numerous squad cars, two heavy lifters, a crowd of militiamen with pistols and Wu hand- cannons, plus 1st tactical squad. His tactical team had taken the longest to gather, and a third of them were still unaccounted for. Most likely they were attending the militia officer’s banquet being held up at Fort Zimmerman tonight. They were probably not ignoring their beeping phones completely, but just taking their time in answering the summons. It was enough to make Steinbach grit his teeth in frustration. How had discipline become so lax? Why should they be enjoying good food and dancing while he sat out in the bitter cold, besieging a madman and gnawing on dried jax meat?
Higher in priority than any of these things, of course, was the disposition of his satchel sitting in the lockers in the baggage claim section. It was too exposed there, he knew. If this whole thing got out of hand and heavy weapons were used, the satchel could easily be destroyed or lost. It was unnerving.
He wanted to strike now, before the enemy got any stronger or more organized. With his tactical squad in full body armor and toting waist-mounted Wu automatic rifles, plus the militia back-up, he felt confident that they could wipe out the giants and the undisciplined security people. The problem was with Mai Lee’s instructions to wait for her support. To disobey her now, just before the arrival of her troops, could easily be a suicidal act.
“Why don’t you move?” asked Major Drick Lee, smacking his small fist into his palm. “Send them in, before they call in Nexus-loyal Stormbringers from Fort Zimmerman.”
“The pilots are preoccupied with the banquet tonight. Besides, our own loyal pilots outnumber the Nexus Tories,” Ari snapped back, not looking up from his field glasses. He studied the glass doors of the terminal building with interest. There was definitely a lot of activity in there. Benches, potted plants and luggage were being thrown up as barricades. He tried to get a glimpse of the lockers, but the angle wasn’t right.
“Every minute they get more prepared.” Major Lee crossed his arms and huffed.
“Maybe you want to lead the charge, eh?” shouted Ari. “I don’t want to hear any more whining! We wait!”
Rolling his eyes, Major Lee leaned up against the hull of a lifter and said nothing.
Ari seethed. Where was that ancient witch and her army of simians?
