Part 21 (1/2)

”I said don't mind him,” she repeated, flipping her hand toward the Ulkomaal in the more or less universal gesture of contemptuous dismissal, the dim room light glinting momentarily off the large gaudy rings she was wearing. Now that she was facing us, I could see she was wearing the display scarf of a bar girl knotted around her neck, the particular tartan pattern advertising what services she offered and the charge for them. I wondered distantly whether Tera would know about such things; I rather hoped she didn't. ”Nurptric the Nosy, they call him,” the woman continued. ”Mind if I sit down?”

”Business slow?” Tera asked, her voice frosty. Apparently, she knew all about the scarf.

The woman gave her a smile that was a good eighty percent smirk. ”Yours too?”

she asked sweetly, snagging a chair from the next table and hauling it over.

With a hip she deftly shoved Tera over, to Tera's obvious consternation, andplanted her chair squarely between the two of us. ”I'm just being sociable, you being strangers here and all,” she added, dropping into the seat and swiveling to put her face to me and her back to Tera. ”Any law against that?”

”Not too many laws against anything here,” Tera countered pointedly.

”Obviously.”

”And like you say, business is slow,” the woman added, wiggling her hips and shoulders to carve a bit more room for herself. ”I'm sure not going to get any decent conversation out of anyone else in here. My name's Jennifer. How about buying me a drink?”

”How about you going somewhere else?” Tera said, starting to sound angry.

”This is a private conversation.”

”Noisy, isn't she?” Jennifer commented, an amused smile playing around her lips.

”Unfriendly, too. You come here often?”

Tera half rose to her feet, sank reluctantly back into her seat as Chort put a gentle hand on her arm. ”I'm afraid we're pretty much broke, Jennifer,” I said diplomatically. ”We've got barely enough money for the fuel we need. Nothing left over for incidentals.”

She eyed me speculatively. ”Gee, that's too bad,” she said, looking over at the Ulkomaal still hovering expectantly behind Chort. ”Give me a small vodkaline, Nurp.”

His eyebrow crest turned a brief magenta, but he nevertheless nodded. ”Of course. And for the rest of you?”

”Have you kompri, by any chance?” Chort asked.

”No, nothing like that,” Nurptric said. ”We have no Craean drinks.”

”We might have some back at s.h.i.+ck Place,” Jennifer volunteered. ”We cater to all sorts of vices there,” she added, giving Chort a sly smile. ”It's not far away if you want to go see.”

Chort looked at me uncertainly. ”If we have the time-?”

”No,” Nicabar said flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument. ”As soon as the s.h.i.+p's fueled, we're out of here.”

”He's right,” I seconded. I didn't especially like the thought of spending any more time out in the gloom than I had to, and I certainly wasn't going to let any of the group go wandering off on their own. ”We'll take three caff colas and a distilled water,” I added to the barkeep.

His eyebrow crest went a little mottled, either a sign of resignation or possibly contempt for such miserliness. ”Yes, patronae,” he said and turned back to his bar, muttering under his breath as he went.

”Three colas and a water, huh?” Jennifer said, shaking her head. ”You really are the big spenders.”

”As he said, we're short on cash,” Tera said firmly. ”So you might as well stop wasting your time.”

Jennifer shrugged. ”Fine. You know, though, there's an easy way to make some fast money.”

She leaned in toward the middle of the table, beckoning us in conspiratorially.

”There's a s.h.i.+p out there somewhere-no one knows where,” she said, dropping her voice to a murmur. ”You find it, and it's worth a hundred thousand commarks toyou. Cash money.”

A matched set of Kalixiri ferrets with cold feet began running up and down my back. ”Really,” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral. ”How come it's worth that much? And who to?”

”I don't know why they want it,” she said, half turning and snagging a folded piece of paper from the next table over that had apparently been left behind during the earlier ma.s.s exodus. ”But it's all right here,” she said, handing it to me.

I unfolded it. To my complete lack of surprise, it was the same flyer James Fulbright had waved in my face back on Dorscind's World.

With two unpleasant differences. First, as Jennifer had said, the reward had been jumped from the original five thousand to a hundred thousand. And second, instead of my old Mercantile Authority photo, there was a much more up-to-date sketch. An extremely good sketch.

”Sounds like a con to me,” I commented offhandedly as I folded the paper again and dropped it on the table in front of me, my skin crawling beneath the fake scars on my cheek. So that was why the Patth agent on Dorscind's World had surrendered without even token resistance. Letting me get off the planet had been less important in his eyes than making sure he stayed alive to take back a proper description to his masters. Suddenly my disguise didn't seem quite so comforting and impenetrable anymore. ”So why show it to us?” I asked.

She waved a hand around. ”You can see how it is,” she said, her eyes and voice starting to drift toward the seductive. ”I'm stuck down here. But you're not.

You might run into this Icarus out there.”

Chort made a strange sound in the back of his throat. ”What s.h.i.+p did you say?

The Icarus?”

”I guess no one knows what it looks like,” she said, ignoring him, her eyes still on me and growing ever more seductive. ”But they say that guy on the flyer is aboard it. You might spot the s.h.i.+p; you might spot him.”

”And then?” I prompted.

She leaned close to me. ”Then you could call me here,” she said, breathing the words straight into my face now. The perfume mixed with the alcohol on her breath was definitely from the lower end of the price spectrum. ”I know who to get the word to, and who to collect the bounty from.”

”You say they just want the s.h.i.+p?” Tera spoke up. She had picked up the flyer now and was looking at it, and in the admittedly inadequate light I thought her face had gone a little pale.

”They want the s.h.i.+p and crew both,” Jennifer said, still gazing at me. ”What, can't you read?”

”What for?” Tera persisted, handing the flyer off to Nicabar. ”What do they want them for?”

Reluctantly, Jennifer leaned back again and looked at Tera over her shoulder.

”I.

don't know,” she growled, clearly annoyed at the interruption in her sales pitch. ”And I don't care, either. The point is that there's money to be made, and we could be the ones who make it.”

”And how would you propose we split it?” I asked.

She smiled at me again. The seductress role was apparently all she knew how to play. ”All I want is pa.s.sage back to Earth and a couple thousand to help me get set up there,” she breathed, leaning toward me again. ”That's all-you'd get allthe rest. Just for one little StarrComm call. I'd even pay you back for the call.”

”Why do we need you at all?” Nicabar put in, looking up from the flyer. ”Why can't we just call this number ourselves?”

”Because I know how to get you an extra fifty thousand,” the woman said, breathing her words into my face again. ”Private money. Revenge money. See those three in the back?”