Part 19 (1/2)
Daav looked into the ceiling, momentarily lost in thought. When he looked back, the boss was reaching into a desk drawer for a candy.
”What, may I ask, is the or?”
The boss looked grim.”The or is that if they don't turn up safe the Juntavas will be wiped out, starting at the top. This is a promise.”
Daav leaned forward, raised his hand to his chin and rubbed it thoughtfully.
”This is,” he said after a moment, ”a very, very serious problem. No one has ever heard of a clutch turtle lying, certainly no one has ever heard of a clutch turtle or clan breaking a promise. Even I might not be able to hide well enough if the Clutch knew me for an enemy.”
The boss snorted again, apparently swallowing his candy whole.
”Right. And so what I have going on, starting about the time you walk out the front door here, is a block-by-block search of every Juntavas holding on Delgado, looking for two of the d.a.m.nedest trouble-makers you've ever heard of.”
Daav, very interested, waved his hand, asking for more information.
”Yeah, OK. One is a First-In Scout Commander! Good, right? Get in the face of somebody who can talk clutch to the clutch and just happens to have saved one from a dragon. You know, a n.o.body, a pushover. Then the other one is a Merc-turned-bodyguard, lived through Klamath and got on-and off!-Cloud.”
Daav let out a low whistle. ”Do you know how many people lived through Klamath?”
The boss shrugged, tapped his desk. ”That's probably in my notes. I got more notes than you can stuff in a garbage can already about this.” He broke, searched his desktop, pulled up a flimsy image-flat, and flipped it, casually and quite accurately, to the man in the chair.
Daav listened with half-an-ear as the boss went on-the while eyes measured the photos of his son and his son's companion.
”Getting off Klamath earns you a lifetime 'I'm tough' badge or something. But-this is where we come in-these two started a firefight, in broad daylight, I guess-between the local Juntavas and the city police in Econsey, back there on Lufkit, just to cover their getaway after they robbed the boyfriend of the local boss' daughter. Then, they managed to get off-planet while the place was under total lock-down, with everybody from the chief of planetary police down to the nightclub bouncer looking for them, and make a leisurely departure from Prime Station in a Clutch s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p.”
Daav continued to look interested, slowly shaking his head as he listened, still taking in the no-nonsense, rather ordinary appearance of both of the missing. A master mercenary who had survived Klamath might be just the person to balance a scout commander, he thought.
”Story gets muddled about here,” the boss was continuing, ”but somehow the local capo managed to grab them. Then he gets the news he can't do anything to them. So he sets them off in a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p that's been in some kind of a fight and can't go nowhere. Word comes down to make sure these two are really in one piece and to hold 'em, pending the Chairman Pro Tem's personal visit. He goes back...”
Daav didn't have to fake the laugh.
”What could he have been thinking?” he asked. ”To leave a-what was it, First-In Scout Commander?-in a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p and expect it not to go away?”
The boss was nodding now and gestured with the piece of candy in his left hand.”You got it. Exactly how it was. They were gone, the s.h.i.+p was gone and ain't n.o.body heard nothing about any of 'em since. So now I got to check Delgado and...”
Daav raised a palm.
”Please,” he said gently. ”You mustn't be overly concerned. You'll want to do standard checks on pa.s.senger lists and such; but the people you are hunting are not likely to hide out on Delgado. Even if they've been here, do you think a hardened merc and a First-In Scout are going to set themselves up as shopkeepers or bean-farmers?”
Before the boss could answer Daav stood, demanding a suppleness from his body he did not feel.
”I'll need the name of the new chairman, copies of whatever transmissions you may have, details of the former location of the missing s.h.i.+p-dupes of your images, as well-and I'll be on my way. Also, I have some things for you...” He waved toward the back wall of the office and the bar beyond.
”First, the taller of your security guards stole several of your bartender's tips, and was helping herself to the packaged snacks. That can't be good for your business.”
The boss snorted. ”Just color them gone. Hey, you're good at what you do-but that don't mean they shouldn't have seen you!”
Daav nodded agreeably. ”Also, you'll want to get an explosives expert in here. There's a small package I disconnected and took out of the nerligig-it looks like it might have been connected about six or seven dozen years ago. It may no longer be dangerous, or it may be unstable. In any case, as I am sure you understand, I hesitate to take it with me.”
The boss rubbed his forehead and nodded.
”We'll dupe your info for you-and in the meantime I'll call in a specialist.”
”Thank you,” said Daav and went back to the bar to put his tools away, all the while amazed that a phrase learned so long ago and so far away was still potent enough to make a Juntava jump.
CABIN PRESSURE WAS at one-tenth normal, which should have been counted as good; it signified that Clonak's work was paying off.
Alas, Shadia did not much feel like cheering. She sat lightly webbed to the command chair, patiently doing hours of work by hand and eye that an online computer might do in a blink.
Clonak had left her to the recognition search while he worked on what he called ”housekeeping.”
Housekeeping entailed using a small bubble-bottle to find the worst of the leaks and then seal them with the quick-patch sit.
As for her work, so far she had only three possibles and one probable. Dust in the outer fringes of the Nev'Lorn cl.u.s.ter made some of the IDs difficult and she'd not yet found a near opaque patch or two that might also help her...
”Shadia?”
The sound reached her, distorted and distant.
Clonak stood behind her, almost an arm's length away, beckoning her toward a portable monitorhooked to a test-kit. With his other hand he seemed to be fighting a control.
Indeed, the air pressure was building ever so slightly.
Noting her spot, she locked the star-field scope; by the time she got to him he was using both hands on the control. He yelled at her again through the sack-like Cloak; she could barely hear him.
”Please tell me what you see. I'm not sure this will work for long!”
What she saw, besides Clonak wrestling with a wire-filled metal tube, was devastation. The grainy monitor was showing her what would normally be her Screen Five, inspection view.
”The rear portside airfoils are gone,” she yelled, schooling her voice to the give the information as dispa.s.sionately as possible. ”There is damage into the hull; I can see a nozzle-likely it's one of the wing nitrogen thrusters, still attached to a hose-moving as if it is leaking.”
Clonak shrugged, did something else with his shoulder, and the image s.h.i.+fted a bit toward the body of the s.h.i.+p.
Shadia blinked, disoriented. The s.h.i.+p didn't have a-oh.
”The ventral foil has been blown forward and twisted-shredded. The...”
The image went blank as Clonak's hands slipped on the tube; the Cloak vibrated with the buzz of his curse.
Shadia continued describing what she had seen.
”There's no sign of any working airfoil components. There are indications of other structural damage. I can't tell you about the in-system engines-the view was blocked by the ventral fin.”
Clonak sat down hard.
”That view was blocked by the ventral? Might be something left to work with if we can get some more power going...” His last few words were lost as he stared at the blank screen.