Jo Clayton: Crystal Heat

“Do they know who the thief is, or are we supposed to discover that also?”

“They know. He was one of the xenobiologists studying the Taalav. Making sure they stay healthy and producing crystal. Not a Kliu, a prisoner. A Cousin working in an exoskeleton because of Pillory’s gravity. Don’t know why he was sent there; they won’t release his files or tell me anything about him, not even his name and description. I suppose they might have to refund some of their, fee if his planet of conviction discovers he’s gone missing.”

“Just how much cooperation are we going to get?”

“As little as they feel they can get away with. We can’t trust the Kliu, Shadow. I’ve had clients like them before. Letter of the contract and that’s it. Keep that in mind. And there’s this-the theft was almost a year ago. They’ve been using available resources to search for the array. But they’re a cautious species and have decided on backup just in case their hands slip. That’s us. You. If they spot you as my agent, they’ll put a trace on you and as soon as you look to be getting somewhere, they’ll zip round you and scoop the pot under our noses. Then they come round saying sorry, we found the smuggler ourselves. You get your one-percent kill-fee, no more. That’s extrapolation, but you can be sure the conclusion is solid. If you need cover and can’t arrange it, call me. I expect you to use your ingenuity, though. That is one thing you have plenty of.”

“I think I’d better see an array in place. Flakes don’t do it. And I want to question the people who knew the thief. Spla! If I don’t know his history, how am I supposed to find the smuggler who took him offworld? I presume that was how it was done?”

Digby nodded, a lock of shining gray hair dropping into his eyes. He brushed it back with a flick of his hand. “Thought you might, so I’ve arranged for you to go to Pillory. There’s a light exo ready for you in the equipment room. It’s been tarted up with a few extras including a visor which you are to keep in place as much as possible. If anyone tries to take a template, what they’ll get is hash. How much they know about my prime agents I couldn’t tell you. There might be descriptions circulating already. How much good these precautions will do is not something I’d like to guess about. Nevertheless, get that fitting done as soon as you leave here. And pick up your Trick Kit, have the techs run through it with you, there’ve been additions since the last time you went out. Just one thing, Pillory’s security is fierce, Shadow. Don’t try anything with their kephalos. They have redundancies on that system that would frustrate a ghost.”

“Speaking of ghosts…”

“No. Yseyl isn’t ready yet. And this is too complicated. After the fitting, go to Briefing Room Three. I’ve set up a feed that will give you all we know about Pillory. Eyes only, no duping, hm? Doesn’t go beyond these walls except in your head.”

“Discretion is us. To hear is to obey.”

“Hmp. Watch your back, Shadow.”

“You’re a careful soul, Digby.”

“You better believe it. I always get full measure. Keep that in mind.”

2. Danger. Run for Home

Lylunda Elang rode the shuttle along the linktube that led to Marrat’s Agency node, contriving to look bored and mildly stupid, as if she were a low-level worker in an office like the one she was planning to visit. She was short and broad across the shoulders and to her sorrow across the hips as well, with a round guileless face that had proved its worth more than once. The neat small waist she was proud of, she’d concealed under a loose tunic that hung in soft gray folds from the elaborate tucks of the smocking, the looseness concealing the Taalav crystal taped beneath her left breast. She’d brushed in temporary coloring to hide the white streaks at her temples, pulled her coarse; springy hair into a tight bun that tugged up her eyebrows and gave her a look of continual astonishment.

So far she hadn’t seen any faces she knew. And she was happy about that. She didn’t want anyone recognizing her before she reached the broker’s office and shed the crystal.

She stared out the window by her seat, past the ghost images of the other riders reflected in the glass, watching the pewter glitter of the translucent tube walls slip quickly by. Though you could see nothing worth looking at, she was glad of the windows, being uncomfortable hurtling along in a capsule she didn’t control without access to the outside, however illusory such access might be.

After a short while, though, she used the mirroring effect to study the other riders. Innocuous as they looked, this was Marrat’s Market and any of them could be predators or scam artists.

The shuttle had twenty rows of seats, four seats in each row with a narrow central aisle passing between the middle pair. She was sitting on the left side in the first row, and there was no one in the seat beside her. The rest of the capsule was about half full. The others riding with her seemed tobe shift workers heading for their jobs, some sleepy, dozing in their seats, some staring at nothing, a few busy with notepads; they were mostly an assortment from the Cousin worlds, though there was also a pair of Tocher femmes chattering in Tochri gutturals and a lanky Lommertoerkan male immersed in whatever it was he was reading off his sheet screen.

A small wiry man sputtered awake, met her eyes in the window mirror before she had time to blank her gaze. Hetook this for an invitation, grinned at her, and moved up to the seat beside her. “Haven’t seen you before. Me, I’m Exi Exinta, I work at the Nut Tree, it’s a food place over on the Barter Strip. Lots of people who work the AgentNode eat there. Be seeing you?”

She gave him a bovine look, blinking slowly as if she had to take time to process the words. “All right,”.she said finally. Then she turned away to stare out the window again.

Exi Exinta shifted-nervously in his seat; after another stretch of silence, he got up and went back to where he’d been sitting before. Lylunda kept the apathetic look, but she wondered about him. His had been a very nice performance, but alarms were going off inside her. It wasn’t the first time she’d trotted out this persona, and she knew well enough what reactions it got. Moving in on her showed a kind of blindness on his part, as if he thought that she’d be so flattered by the attention she wouldn’t question the reasons behind it.

She was annoyed because it meant she had to drop deep into the role she was playing; if you were supposed to be dull and self-absorbed, you couldn’t let an experienced op catch you peeking. There was something else to worry about. This could be a double up. Mr. Ex-the gall of the man, playing that kind of names game-Mr. Exi Exinta might be the throwaway, the one she was supposed to watch while his partner got inside her boundaries and dropped the sack over her head.

Which brought up another problem. She must have tripped an alarm that her ship’s sensors missed because the Kliu tagged Dragoi just before she ’splitted with Prangarris and his catch. Probably got enough for an ID. Were these two or maybe three working a standard scam, or were they setting her up for a snatch? Marrat’s OverSec ran a tight Pit, stomping hard on industrial spying and any physical violence beyond the drunk fight and the one-on-one duel, but they weren’t set up to guard against the one-off, the quick snatch and scamper.

When the shuttle sighed to a stop and the exit slid open, she walked out, moving with a heavy stolidity meant to underline her lack of curiosity about the world around her. She climbed aboard a chainchair, tapped in her destination, and went clanking off, tensely aware that Exinta was behind her and that she still hadn’t identified his partner. If he had a partner.