Part 19 (1/2)
”Who's a gentleman?” Fiolla demanded sharply.
”Beg pardon,” apologized the Sljee. ”I've only been working here since this morning. It's my first time away from home and I've never dealt with aliens before. Non-Sljee, I mean. The smells are so confusing. Frightfully sorry.”
”The 'droid stays,” Han stated flatly. ”Now go bring us two Flameouts, or I'll tell the manager you insulted this lady. I'm a very close friend of his.”
”At once, sir. Coming right up.” The Sljee pirouetted on its many short podia and sailed off in the direction of the service bar.
”So we know I'm not Zlarb,” Han resumed to Fiolla. ”Who are you not?”
She chuckled. ”I'm not a slaver, but you know my real name, or at least part of it. Im Hart-and-Parn Gorra-Fiolla of Lorrd, a.s.sistant Auditor-General, Corporate Sector Authority.”
An Authority exec, Han groaned to himself. Why don't I just go down to the Espo prison, pick a comfortable cell, and get it over with? Instead he pursued the conversation. ”Slavers must have interesting audits, fascinating expense vouchers.”
”Doubtless, but I've never read one. I'm an auditor-at-large, sort of a roving a.s.signment conducting random checks of Authority operations. I was working here with my a.s.sistant when I found out that there's a slavery ring operating inside the Authority. Some top execs are implicated, and a number of Espo officials. I think it might go as high as the territorial manager for this entire part of the Authority, Odumin, and that's a shock in itself. Although I've never met him, I've heard that Odumin's always shunned the limelight, but he's always been a decent administrator, a regular humanitarian as managers go. Anyway, I'm conducting my own investigation. When I've developed all the information, I'm going to dump it right in the lap of the Board of Directors.” She smiled brightly. ”Then I'm going to nail myself the juiciest promotion and raise you ever saw. You're looking at Fiolla of Lorrd, heroine of the s.p.a.ceways. Now how about you?”
He spread his hands. ”I fly for hire. I rendezvoused with Zlarb without knowing he wanted me to move slaves. We disagreed and he got shot. And I don't care who's doing what to whom; I've got ten thousand in cash coming and I want it. Zlarb had a tape message to meet someone here for payment so I kept his appointment. How did you end up there in the lounge?”
”It was part of the information I came across. Did Zlarb tell you anything else?”
”Zlarb made the Final Jump shortly after being burned with a disruptor, but he had a record of s.h.i.+p registrations and leasing permits. Almost all of them were funneled through an agency on Ammuud.”
She was listening distractedly, but he went on. ”Do you mind telling me how come I'm in your confidence all of a sudden? Not that it doesn't stir me deeply, of course.”
”Simple; this thing's even bigger than I'd thought. I need some additional help and I can't go to the Espos. You seem to know what you're doing in an unsubtle sort of way. And you definitely aren't a member of the slavery ring unless murder is a standard business pay-down.”
”You'd be surprised. But don't get any ideas; I'm not the helpful type. How'd you end up out there today, by the way?”
”My a.s.sistant, Magg, got his hands on a message that the management was holding for Zlarb back there at the lounge. When I decided you weren't going to tell me much I sent you off to chase yourself and-”
Han leaned forward with a certain look on his face that caused Bollux to fear for Fiolla's safety. ”And Magg followed me to put my lights out, right?”
She looked honestly shocked. ”Are you saying someone attacked you?”
”Somebody did everything except zeroize my rotors.”
She drew a deep breath. ”I gave you the number of an Authority pool hangar. The s.h.i.+p there was the one Magg and I arrived in. I knew it was on down time, waiting for parts, and there'd be no one around. But listen-Magg trailed your hairy friend when he left the lounge and that's how we found out which s.h.i.+p was yours. When we couldn't get aboard for a search, I went off to keep Zlarb's appointment myself because the instructions said one person and one scooter. I sent Magg to see what he could find out about you.”
Han was so busy trying to unravel what she had said that he forgot to be angry at her mention of the attempted break-in. He was impressed with her resourcefulness, antagonized a bit by her self-a.s.surance, and surprised by her naivete.
The Sljee waiter had returned. Two tentacles whisked two tall gla.s.ses off its back-tray while two more placed absorb-mats before Han and Fiolla. ”There we are,” the Sljee said cheerfully. ”Will that be pay as you go, or shall I put it on a tab?” it asked hopefully. It had already been stiffed twice that day by unscrupulous customers who had taken advantage of its difficulty in differentiating among individual non-Sljee.
”Run the tab,” said Han immediately. The Sljee retreated in disappointment, trying its best to memorize Han's odor without much confidence.
The Flameouts were perfect, burning their tongues and freezing their throats, making them gasp a bit. ”Don't you think it was stupid to ride out there alone?” Han asked.
”I had a gun,” she argued. ”A special, one that doesn't register on scanners. Lots of execs carry them. How did I know the worthless thing would let me down?”
”Where's your a.s.sistant now?”
”After Magg checks on you he'll go to our hotel and get ready to leave. It occurred to me that we might have to get off-planet in short order.”
”Very possible,” allowed Han. A sudden thought struck him and he became hostile again. ”I owe Magg for damaging my s.h.i.+p, don't I?”
”I ordered him to try to break in, to see if there was any information onboard; I thought you might just be playing very, very dumb. If you want to get even, you can take me on another swoop ride sometime. By the way, what kind of security system is that you've got? Magg was sure he could open up a freighter without breaking stride, but that lock of yours stopped him cold. He said he'd need a tool shop to get in.”
”I like my privacy,” Han explained simply, avoiding the mention of smuggling.
”Magg said it was like trying to crack the Imperial Currency Reserve.”
”Sounds like an experienced guy.”
”Oh, very versatile, yes. I handpicked him because he had, ah, a range of abilities. I think you two will find one another quite-”
At that moment Chewbacca arrived with Spray. The Wookiee forcefully sat the little Tynnan down with the pressure of a giant paw and took a seat himself, filling it to overflowing.
”I met Fiolla here and almost got killed,” Han told his friend pleasantly. ”How was your afternoon?”
Chewbacca studied the woman with his large, lucid blue eyes and she returned the scrutiny. Then the Wookiee motioned to Spray and, in his growling, barking language, explained to Han what had happened as the skip-tracer squinted from one to the other.
”I hate skip-tracers,” announced Han Solo at length.
”In that case I think I'll just be toddling along ...” Spray said, starting to rise. Chewbacca clapped a paw on him and pushed him back down.
Han's head was spinning with this new development, and he wished he could process information as quickly as Blue Max. Theoretically, Spray could enlist the aid of the Espos in taking possession of the Falcon. Once again Han wondered when his string of rotten luck would break.
Just then the Sljee waiter showed up again, having noticed Chewbacca's and Spray's presence. It endeavored to speak in its most hospitable tones, still aware of its previous gaff.
”Yes, sir” purred the Sljee to the Wookiee, ”and what can I bring you and your strapping young hatchling here?”
Chewbacca snarled at the Sljee. Spray, already visibly disturbed, exploded. ”We're not even the same species!”
”What've I told you about that?” Han asked the Sljee menacingly.
”A thousand pardons,” wailed the Sljee, rotating back and forth through nervous quarter-turns and intertwining its tentacles imploringly.
”What in the world is going on?” Fiolla wanted to know, not having understood anything Chewbacca had said.
Spray held his paws-up, webbed fingers spread, until the others were quiet, including the Sljee. ”First of all, we have no need of any refreshments, thank you,” the Tynnan told the waiter. The Sljee retreated gratefully.
”Now,” Spray continued, ”the central issue, Captain Solo-please stop shus.h.i.+ng me, sir; I will be heard! At issue are two thousand five hundred Credits Standard owed Vinda and D'rag, Stars.h.i.+pwrights. Unless you're prepared to make payment, I am empowered to attach and take possession of your s.h.i.+p, which, by the way, appears to have had her marking altered in illegal fas.h.i.+on.”
Han narrowed his eyes and glared at Spray. ”I am thinking right now,” he said, ”of how a certain chisel-beaked runt is going to get his just desserts.”
”It's a bit public for threats of aggravated a.s.sault, isn't it, Solo?” Fiolla asked.
”You keep out of this! For all I know, you two work together.”