Part 16 (2/2)

A black-furred Pakhar bustled from behind a rock, one paw in the air, the other scratching at its muzzle. Its nose visibly twitched as it got nearer.

Are they all dead?'

Ace nodded. 'Nastily.'

'Did you kill them?'

'You know I didn't. You've been tracking me, pretty b.l.o.o.d.y badly, since I left the hutch.'

The Pakhar's snout moved from side to side. Ace had spoken to enough Pakhars earlier to recognize a sign of disappointment. I'm not very good at this,' it started.

Ace lowered her blaster fractionally, but kept her finger on the trigger-stud, just in case. 'Stay primed,' she willed at it. The red light on top flashed back its acknowledgment of the order. 'So,' she said aloud, 'who are you?'

'My name is Ci'm'ur. I was an . . . a.s.sociate of Hyn't'n's.'

In other words, you're also a s.h.i.+fty, underworld opportunist. Pleased to meet you. What happened to Hyn't'n?'

Ci'm'ur shuffled slightly. 'Wrong sort. Human mercenaries. After the Diadem.'

And Hyn't'n told them it was here?'

'A friend of ours works at the university. Good job, too - secretary to the administrator's personal a.s.sistant. Tells us lots of things. Like about Sharrod's expedition to find it.'

'This Sharrod. Good man is he? Trustworthy? Does he know how to find the Diadem?'

The Pakhar waved towards the older man sprawled over the artificial fire, a large hole burnt right through his chest from the back. Ace sighed. I wonder if he found it.'

I imagine so,' said Ci'm'ur. 'They're not here now. They've probably already got it.'

Ace moved towards him. I must get after them. Can I get a shuttle pa.s.sage easily?'

Ci'm'ur nodded. I can arrange that. One hour. Port Four. Ask for me.'

An hour! They could be hundreds of thousands of kliks away by then.

Halfway across this system.'

'Not possible. I work at the ports. I give clearance for take-offs. I arranged their exit permits. I can't stop them, but they won't be happy. I've held them up.'

'How?'

'Extended lunch break. Following you.'

Ace had to smile. Okay, let's go.'

The Pakhar moved forward and took her left hand, totally ignoring the blaster in her right. I don't know who you are,' he said. 'But I saw you look at that human boy's pad. I saw the way you reacted. You're not like them. I know you didn't know Hyn't'n any more than you knew Professor Sharrod and his students, but for me if nothing else, please find them and stop them.'

Ace nodded. 'Let's go.' She moved back to the bodies. She picked up Julian Winmill's pad. If I can, Joolz, I'll get this back to your folks.' Putting it in the inside pocket of her bomber jacket, she wandered after the Pakhar.

She looked at her wrist computer. Just an hour to go.

Sadler stared at the vacuum pack. It was inside a transparent safe-seal, attached to the shuttle's power-systems so that it was untouchable until they landed and powered down. But inside . . . Such power. Such dreams.

Such . . .

She s.h.i.+vered and looked away. Cruk it! The blasted thing was making her feel odd. She glanced across at Townsend's broad back, seated at the pilot's console. Lambert was on the communicator, moaning at Port Command. Something about the official in charge of telling the other officials that a bigger official had officially cleared them for take-off. About crukking time, too.

Power Townsend relaxed. 'That took long enough.'

'Why didn't we leave anyway? They could hardly stop us.' Cooper was swigging on a bottle of something vaguely toxic.

Townsend sighed. He'd explained this earlier. 'Look, this is a stolen shuttle.

We're far enough away from the major Federation s.p.a.ce lane to avoid detection on Pakhar, but I'm not taking any unnecessary risks. Anyway, Sadler's little charge,' he waved towards the vacuum box, s worth too much to foul up. Now, everyone ready?' Sarcastic murmurs were his only response.

Such power Lambert grinned laconically. All safety procedures intact, Captain. Pa.s.sengers secured and relaxed. A servicer will soon be along with refreshments and we have thirty-nine vid channels to choose from.

Thank you for flying with the Townsend Corporation.'

Townsend didn't smile back. Instead, he piloted the s.h.i.+p away from Pakha.

Sadler relaxed. And realized her hand was dangerously near the voice override control on the safe-seal. She whipped her hand away. What was she doing, she thought. She had to be tired.

Ambition. Domination. A smile seeped on to her lips.

Control - Her hand dropped to the controls, her eyes stared ahead.

Maximum power - Her fingers neared the override codes.

Infinite power! 'Launch confirmed, Shuttle My'n'ad. Good luck.'

'Thanks, Control. For everything. My'n'ad out.'

Ace gripped the arm rests as her new shuttle roared into the airzones of Pakha. The slight g-force held in place for a few seconds until she escaped orbit, then she settled down to relax and follow her prey. Ci'm'ur had done his bit - the mercenaries' shuttle had been delayed; hers speeded up so she was only three or four minutes behind them, running on navcom so she didn't have to do a thing. They'd programmed in the other shuttle's codes so she could trace it wherever it went. Some judicious use of the on-board computer-link and she'd essentially told her craft tfollow that shuttle'.

Good.

She kept her eyes on the hologram of her enemy.

Bernice sat in her room, alone. She had kicked her boots off and crunched her orange sweater into a pillow. She was propped against the wall, below the window, the sweater keeping the stippled rock from jabbing the back of her head. In her hands was her diary. She was staring at it, stylus in hand, but no words were being consigned to posterity. After a few moments of staring aimlessly she closed it and threw it on to the bed. She slipped the stylus into a pocket of her rather grimy chinos and pushed herself up, catching the falling sweater and stuffing it under her arm.

'Better go and see what trouble the Doctor's in by now,' she murmured and wandered out into the corridor. Her boots still lay beside her bed.

The first thing she saw was the king's champion, Torg, rus.h.i.+ng past her.

She c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. Torg was a big guy and he was in a hurry. Good job she wasn't in his way. She wandered after him unhurriedly, wondering what his problem was. As she rounded yet another identical corner she heard a roar and absolute rage from ahead of her. Instinctively Bernice broke into a run and caught up with Torg.

<script>