Part 8 (1/2)
But that one didn't wash at all. They'd known me by sight and name, and they'd known I'd come in from Meima. And they sure as h.e.l.l hadn't bought those corona weapons off a gun-shop rack.
I was halfway through the wraparound, still turning all the questions over in my mind, when I heard a dull, metallic thud.
I stopped dead in my tracks, listening hard. My first thought was that we had another pressure ridge or crack; but that wasn't at all what the noise had sounded like. It had been more like two pieces of metal clanking hollowly against each other.
And near as I could tell, it had come from someplace immediately ahead of me.
I unglued myself from the deck and hurried ahead, ducking through the forward airlock and into the main sphere, all my senses alert for trouble. No one was visible in the corridor, and aside from the galley/dayroom three rooms ahead on my right all the doors were closed. I paused again, listening hard, but there was nothing but the normal hum of s.h.i.+pboard activity.
The first door ahead on my right was the computer room. I stepped up to it and tapped the release pad with my left hand, my right poised ready to grab for my plasmic if necessary. The door slid open-Tera was seated at the computer, holding a hand pressed against the side of her head. ”What?” she snapped crossly, glaring at me.
”Just checking on you,” I said, glancing around the room. No one else was there, and nothing seemed out of place. ”I thought I heard a noise.”
”That was my head banging against the bulkhead,” she growled. ”I dropped a datadisk and ran into the wall when I leaned over to get it. Is that all right with you?”
”No problem,” I said hastily, backing out rapidly and letting the door close on her scowl. This was twice now, counting my spectacularly unnecessary floor dive back in that Meima hotel room, where I'd overreacted and made something of a fool of myself.
The difference was that Ixil was already used to that sort of thing from me.
Tera wasn't, and my face was hot as I glowered my way forward.
Ixil was seated in the restraint chair when I reached the bridge, Pix and Pax nosing curiously around the bases of the various consoles in their rodent way.
”How was Nicabar?” he asked.
”Smart, competent, and apparently on our side,” I told him. ”Tera, unfortunately, probably now thinks I'm an idiot. Did you hear a metallic clunking noise a couple of minutes ago?”
”Not from here, no,” he said, snapping his fingers twice. The two ferrets abandoned their exploration in response to the signal, scampering up his legs and onto his shoulders. ”They didn't hear anything, either,” he added. ”Could it have been a pressure ridge forming?”
”No, it wasn't anything like that,” I said. ”Tera told me she'd b.u.mped her head on the bulkhead. But that's not what it sounded like to me.”
”Perhaps it was Shawn across the corridor from her in the electronics workshop,”
Ixil suggested as the ferrets headed down his legs to the deck again. ”He said he was going to be tearing apart and cleaning one of the spare trim regulators.”
”He came here? Or did he use the intercom?”
”He came here,” Ixil said. ”He wanted to ask you to run a decision/diagnostic on the regulators already on-line, not wanting to have one of the spares torn apart if there was any chance we might need it.”
”Unfortunately, this s.h.i.+p has all the decision-making capabilities of a politician up for reelection,” I said. ”Tera's computer back there is just this side of utterly useless.”
”Yes, he mentioned that,” Ixil agreed. ”I did what I could in the way of a diagnostic, then told him to go ahead.”
”Fine,” I said, pulling out the console's swivel stool. I sat down facing Ixil, keeping the door visible at the corner of my eye. ”I presume you took the opportunity to find out a little about him?”
”Of course,” he said, as if there would be any doubt. ”An interesting young man, though he strikes me as something of the rebellious type. He's quite well traveled-he went on several survey-match trips while in tech school, including one that followed Captain Dak'ario's famous journey across the Spiral threehundred years ago.”
”Sounds like a flimsy excuse to get out of real cla.s.ses.” I sniffed. ”Which school was it?”
”Amdrigal Technical Inst.i.tute on New Rome,” he said. ”Graduated fifth in his cla.s.s, or so he says.”
”Impressive, if true,” I admitted grudgingly. ”What was he doing on Meima?”
”He was out of work,” Ixil said. ”Why, he wouldn't say-he went rather evasive every time I tried to move us back to that topic. He did say that he was sitting in a taverno wearing his cla.s.s jacket and being picked on by some kids from a rival school when he caught Cameron's eye.”
”Borodin, please, at least in public,” I cautioned him. ”That's the name everyone else aboard knows him by.”
”Right. Sorry.” He paused, an odd expression flitting across his face.
”There's one other thing that may or may not mean anything. Have you noticed Shawn seems to have a rather peculiar odor about him?”
I frowned. My first reaction was to think that that was possibly the strangest comment Ixil had ever made, certainly in recent memory. But Ixil was a nonhuman, with access to a pair of even more nonhuman outriders, and all of them had different sensory ranges from mine. ”No, I hadn't,” I said.
”It's quite subtle,” he said. ”But it's definitely there. My initial thought was that it might be related to a possible medical problem, the odor coming either from the illness itself or induced by medication.”
I felt my throat tighten. ”Or it could be coming from some other kind of drug.
The illegal type, maybe?”
”Could be,” Ixil said. ”Not standard happyjam, I don't think, but there are any number of variations I'm not familiar with.” He shrugged. ”Then again, it could also be a result of something exotic he had for lunch in the port.”
”Nice to have it narrowed down.” Still, in all the years I'd known Ixil his instincts had never steered him wrong in this sort of thing. And there had been the att.i.tude change I'd noticed myself in Shawn earlier in the trip, a change that could well have had something to do with drugs. ”All right, we'll keep an eye on him. See if he smells the same tomorrow after a day of s.h.i.+pboard food.”
”I will,” he promised. ”Speaking of tomorrow, I notice you've scheduled our next fueling stop on Dorscind's World. I thought I might remind you that Dorscind's World is not exactly a highlight of the average five-star tourist cruise.”
”Which is precisely why I picked it,” I told him. Pix and Pax had finished their deck-level tour of the bridge now and had scampered out the door into the corridor. I sent up a silent prayer that they wouldn't run across Everett; with his bulk, the big medic might step on them before he even noticed they were underfoot. ”Paperwork accuracy has never been exactly a high priority with the Port Authority there, particularly if you're a few commarks heavy on the docking fees. I figure that the eighty-two hours it'll take to get there should be long enough for us to create a new ident.i.ty for the Icarus that'll be good enough topa.s.s muster.”
”I'm sure we can put something together,” he rumbled, eyeing me speculatively.
”Did your tangle with the Lumpy Brothers bother you that much?”
”More than you know,” I a.s.sured him grimly. ”You see, according to the schedule Cameron left me-the schedule he presumably filed with the Meima Port Authority-the Icarus's first stop was going to be Trottsen. We weren't supposed to be on Xathru at all.”
His squashed-iguana face hardened. ”Yet the Lumpy Brothers knew you were there.”
”And called me by name,” I nodded. ”Granted, they may have tagged me when my turn was called at the StarrComm building-I had no reason at the time not to give my right name there. But why pick on me at all?”
Ixil nodded thoughtfully. ”Can't be one of the crew,” he murmured, half to himself. ”If someone here wanted the cargo, he would have simply stolen it himself after everyone else left the s.h.i.+p.”
”Depending on whether he could get through Cameron's security sealing,” I said.
”But at the very least he would have made sure the Icarus didn't lift. And all he needed to do to accomplish that was to phone the Port Authority with an anonymous report about a pair of crisped bodies lying next to a cul-de-sac loading dock.”
Ixil c.o.c.ked his head to the side. ”In other words, he could have used the same technique that got you detained on Meima.”
”Yes,” I agreed. ”And the fact that it didn't happen on Xathru implies to me that it wasn't someone aboard who pulled that stunt on Meima. But it does suggest a reason why the Lumpy Brothers latched on to me but not on to anyone else aboard.”
Ixil nodded. ”The Meima Port Authority report had your name.”