Part 71 (2/2)
r>, ”Is there any chance that ... uh ... that Aygar and I could ...” ^ Now what was this?
Spit it out, Ensign, and hurry. We have a shuttle to 204.
”Could go downside together? I mean, you're going to be busy, and he really needs someone along who . . .” She saw in his face that her expression had changed. ”And just how do you know that I will be 'busy'?' He reddened and said nothing, but his eyes flicked to Aygar. Sa.s.sinak sighed.
”Ensign, if our guest has shared confidential information, you should have the wit to pretend he did not. You surely heard the announcement I made: no liberty, no leaves. Not my decision, but FedCentral regulations. They don't trust Fleet here. And, if by some mischance you did end up on the surface, that very distrust could get you in serious trouble.”
”Yes, ma'am.”
”Nor was I aware that you and Aygar were friends.”
This time Aygar spoke up, with almost Tim's eagerness.
”He's stronger than he looks, this little one. We began working out in the gym together, at the marine commander's suggestion.” Clever Currald, Sa.s.sinak thought. These two might even do each other good.
”Even so, he can't come downside. Sorry. And you're going with me. You'll be busy enough yourself.”
Timran still looked disconsolate. Sa.s.sinak grinned at him.
”Come now. I need the best shuttle-jockeys up here, just in case something breaks loose.”
He brightened at once and Sa.s.sinak led Aygar through the access tube toward the Station shuttle bay.
They had met nothing to arouse suspicion, but Sa.s.sinak felt as tight-drawn as a strangling wire. Aygar had long since quit pointing out interesting shops or odd costumes. He'd lapsed into an almost sullen silence. Sa.s.sinak was more annoyed by this than she wanted to be. He was not, after all, Fleet. He could not be expected to react as a trained sailor or marine would.
They had walked out of the shuttle port with no visible tail, into a stifling afternoon made worse by the stinging brown haze over the city. Sa.s.sinak was no expert but she had made full use of the gleaming show windows of the shuttleport shopping mall. No one
205.
seemed to be following them. No one paused repeatedly to look in the windows when she did. She had beep downside with Aygar before. Unless someone knew specifically of the meeting with Coromell, this ought to look very much like the previous trips.
She would be expected to take him to one of the monotonous gray buildings in which the prosecution attorneys were working up the case against Tanegli, or to Fleet's own gray precincts. Then on yet another walking tour of the sights, such as they were.
She had started as if for the Fleet offices, then, as instructed, boarded one of the express subways bound for Ceylar East, one of the suburbs. None of those who boarded with them were still in their module when they got off and transferred to another line. They had zlgged and zagged back and forth under the vast city until Sa.s.sinak herself was hardly sure exactly where they were.
Now, only a short distance from the designated meeting place, she wished she'd been born a Weft, with the ability to make eyes in the back of her head. The hot gun and smog made her head ache. She wanted to call Engineering and complain. There, Eklarik's Fantasies and Creations. Its sign was purple curlicues on green with mythical beasts in the corners. Not the sort of dace she would ever go on her own; a signal to any follower, as far as she was concerned.
Did Admiral Coromell have a secret pa.s.sion for historical costumes or antique musical instruments? She gave Aygar a nudge. His shoulders twitched, but he moved across the sh'deway traffic that way. Sa.s.sinak pushed aside the bead curtain and let it rattle closed behind her.
> Inside, the shop smelled of potpourri and incense. A ihread of smoke rose to a blue haze overhead. Close on *ither hand were two suits of armor, one smoothly burnished as if it were but iron skin, and the other ed into fantastic peaks and points, decorated with silk ta.s.sels. Racks of costumes, topped with what Sa.s.sinak supposed were the appropriate headgear. Floppy *-- spiked helms, flat straw circles, bonnets drowned 206 UcCaffrey and Moon in ruffles and bows, a row of tiny red enameled cylinders like oversized pillboxes.
She took a step forward, kicked something that clattered, and realized that she had b.u.mped a tall ceramic jar filled with swords. Swords? She lifted one, then realized it had neither edge nor point-a stage sword? It was not steel; the metal made a flat, unpromising sound when she tapped it with her finger. Cluttering the narrow aisles were toppling piles of boots, shoes, sandals; the footgear for the racked costumes, no doubt. Suspended overhead were masks, dozens-no, hundreds-in shapes and colors Sa.s.sinak had never imagined. She blinked. Aygar b.u.mped into her from behind. ”What is this?” he began, as Sa.s.sinak caught a glimpse of someone moving toward them from the back of the shop. She raised her hand, and he quieted, though she could practically feel his resentment.
”May I help?” asked a breathy voice from the dimness. ”I'm afraid Eklarik's not here right now, but if it's just normal rental?”
”I'm . . . not sure.” The message from Coromell had not specified whether Eklarik's shop a.s.sistant would do as well as the man himself. ”It's about the Pirates of Penzance,” she said, feeling like an idiot.
Her knowledge of musical productions was small. She'd had to look up that reference, and although it told her Gilbert and Sullivan were contemporaneous with Kipling, she knew nothing of the work itself. Or what result should follow from the mention of it.
”Ah,” said the colorless little person who now came into view between another pair of mounted costumes, these obviously meant for the female form. One was white, a clinging drapery that left one shoulder bare; the other, a vast pouf of pale blue, heavily ornamented with bows, braid, ruching, b.u.t.tons as if the maker had to prove that he knew how to do all that, bulged halfway across the aisle.
The a.s.sistant, between the two, looked so meek and unimportant, that Sa.s.sinak was instantly alarmed. No one could be that self-effacing.
”A policeman's lot ...” said the a.s.sistant.
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”Is not a happy one,” Sa.s.sinak replied dutifully, thinking die same thing about the lot of Fleet commanders stuck onplanet in civilian clothes trying to play spy.
”You are the dark lady,” said the a.s.sistant. Sa.s.sinak was still not sure what s.e.x-and was beginning to wonder what race-the a.s.sistant might be. Short, slim, dressed in something darkish that rippled. ”Your star is
That had to refer to Admiral Coromell. She opened r mouth to say something, but found herself confronted with a crystal sphere slightly larger than she tioukt have held in one hand. The a.s.sistant had two hands under it. The crystal gleamed.
”The star you follow,” the a.s.sistant was saying in a lone that Sa.s.sinak would have a.s.sumed meant drunk, if one of her crew had used it. ”It is dimly seen, in dark places, and often occluded by maleficent planets.”
”You have a message for me?” prompted Sa.s.sinak when a long silence had followed that after the crystal globe had vanished again into the dimness.
”That was your message.” A quizzical expression crossed that face, followed by: ”You are familiar with Ifae local bars, aren't you? You are a sailor?”
Behind her, Aygar choked and Sa.s.sinak barely man-id not to gulp herself.
No,” she said gently. ”I'm not any more familiar with local bars than with ... uh ... costumes.”
”Oh.” Another long silence, during which Sa.s.sinak realized that the a.s.sistant's pupils were elliptical, and that the dark costume was actually for. ”I thought you would be. Try the Eclipse, two blocks down, and order Planetwiper.”
-,. That was clear enough, but Sa.s.sinak wasn't sure she believed it was genuine.
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