Mark Tiedemann - Chimera

"What prompted this one?"

"Baleys. Lots of very dead baleys." "There's a regular route, always has been," Masid explained. "The bays change, but usually they're Settler. Baleys have been leaving Kopernik for years via the same avenues-fifty, a hundred years. We estimated that on an average year maybe five, six thousand people leave Earth through clandestine channels. Occasionally, the number goes as high as ten or twelve thousand. ITE cracks down periodically, the numbers drop to less than a thousand, then pick back up.

"A couple of years ago we started seeing a massive surge: twelve, thirteen, fifteen thousand a year. I think this had to do with the politics, Eliton's whole Concessionism kick, and then the collapse of talks last year. I think a lot of baleys are afraid all the avenues are about to be shut down.

"In the middle of this frantic running, though, we started hearing rumors from some of the Settler crews that a number of shipments went missing. I started doing a little digging among my old Settler contacts. I found out that transfers were being made mid-journey by certain ships-destinations changed, baleys offloaded and sent somewhere else. Too many claims to ignore. "

"Pirates?" Derec asked.

"That's an easy accusation to make. Tell me, what is pirate? Black market, certainly. But fine, let's assume for the sake of this discussion we're talking about pirates. Then what are they doing? A lot of so-called pirate ships are already dealing in baley running. A lot of them have quasilegal status and come into port regularly. No warrants, no evidence to hold them, we let them go. The ships offloading the baleys aren't doing so under duress, so it's a business deal. But for who? The money being paid by baleys and some of the recipient colonies is a lot, but I don't see how the margin makes it worthwhile stealing the baleys after they're already en route. So where are they being taken?"

"You found out?"

Masid shook his head. "Not exactly. A lot of talk has them going to Nova Levis. Of course, that's quarantined, so it's not likely we're going to find any ship's owners willing to admit they're making runs there. The pirate ships taking the baleys on never come to Kopernik. But let's assume that one or two colonies have hired mercenary shippers and are paying premiums to steal baleys. Why? What do baleys have that could be marketable under illicit conditions?"

"Labor. Possibly blackmail of family."

"No blackmail, not a single demand. Labor, sure. But you can buy cheap labor from companies like Imbitek and Morris and some of the others. There are some colonies buying robots from Spacers. So, if it's not labor, what is it?"

Derec shook his head.

"Bodies."

"Organs?"

"What else? On spec I recommended that a shipload of baleys be traced and intercepted en route. A joint Auroran-Terran venture was set up. It took four tries to find a transfer, but we found one and the ship was taken. The baleys were already dead, in stasis. Medical quality stasis. Eighty-three of them. We had a few arriving shipments intercepted here and at least three of them contained already dead baleys."

"Why didn't you shut it all down if you knew about the shipments?"

"Two reasons: we don't know about all the shipments, and we still don't know who's killing them and selling the corpses. Ongoing investigation; we need to keep it quiet till we can shut down the source. I know, it's terrible. People are dying. But that's the way it is."

"How many?" Derec asked.

"So far, three hundred plus. We've been trying to infiltrate baley groups, see where they're going. Our agents have been turning up dead, too. Some of them in very unpleasant ways. The worst was Chiava."

"Chiava?"

"The Brethe dealer you heard about. Right here, in her holding cell. "

"Chief Palen worked her the same way she works you?"

Masid nodded. "She worked dockside vice mostly, not this. She found something related to my investigation. "

"Did she have time to tell Palen?"

"No. She was brought in while Sipha was away. By the time Sipha returned…"

"What I don't understand," Derec said, "is where the market for this is. Organs can be grown-you don't have to do gross transplants. "

"Spacer medical tech is expensive. "

"That's facile. It's also safer. The only reason…" Derec caught his breath. "The baleys in question. You identified them?"

"As many as we could. Some had bought very expensive privacy locks on their pasts."

"How many of them were orphans?"

"Orphans?"

"Yes, orphans."

Masid blinked and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Find out."

"You have an idea what's going on?"

"Just an idea. A very tenuous idea. "

Masid nodded. "You look like you hope you're wrong. "

"That, too." Derec studied Masid for a time. "So what are you still doing in here?"

"Oh, that. Well." Masid smiled sheepishly. "I'm bait."

I've called for an embassy limousine," Ariel said. "It should be here shortly."

Ree Wenithal gave her a gloomy look, as if now regretting to go along with them. He had drunk four cups of coffee and swallowed a stimulant pill, and his mood had grown ever more somber.

Coren scowled at him. "Don't tell us you've changed your mind and don't want to go. Would you rather wait for Tresha and Gamelin?"

Wenithal looked startled. "Who?"

Coren almost smiled. "Your collectors. The ones you've been waiting for."

Ariel watched them regard each other, Ree Wenithal clearly unsettled and Coren smugly observant.

"We standing around playing Who Knows," Jeta Fromm asked, "or moving somewhere safer?"

Coren laughed. "Come on. Is there anything else you want to bring?"

"No," Wenithal said grudgingly, and stepped to the door.

Ariel touched Coren's elbow. When he looked at her, she pointed to his shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"I could use some painblock and a stimulant right now," he said, "but I can move. "

They exited onto the balcony warily, Ariel coming out last. Third shift was still a few hours from ending and the quiet made the warren seem deserted. Coren led the way down the steps to the courtyard and out to the avenue. Ariel went last, glancing anxiously over her shoulder, trying unsuccessfully to see into the shadows. She gripped the stunner in her pocket, knowing it would be next to useless against the thing that attacked them earlier, but unwilling to release its illusion of effectiveness.

Far to the right, at the end of the avenue, music and laughter reached them from a bar; otherwise, the area was still. They pressed back against the wall and waited in silence.

Ariel jumped when the limousine pulled onto the avenue. The long black vehicle stopped and the rear door slid open. As they neared the vehicle, two men emerged and quickly flanked Wenithal and Jeta. Wenithal stopped short, but Jeta whirled around, glaring.

"What is this, gato?" she demanded.

Coren stopped before her. "It's for everyone's piece of mind…Tresha."

She frowned at him. "My name is Jeta Fromm."

"I doubt it," Coren said. "But we can sort it out later, when we're in comfort and security." He looked at Ariel. "Is this going to cause problems?"

"Nothing I'm not used to," Ariel said. She addressed the guards. "Screen them."

One of the men took out a pad and walked around the pair. He reached inside Jeta/Tresha's jacket and removed a pistol. "That's all, Ambassador."

"Good. In the limousine, please. "

The guard took Tresha's pack, then Wenithal and Tresha were ushered into the capacious backseat. The guards watched them from the facing seat. Ariel went around to the passenger side front and got in.

Coren closed the door and leaned against the jamb.

"I'm going somewhere else," he said.