Jo Clayton: Shadowplay

Too many snoops around reading other people's mail."

"I trust you are not referring to me, child."

Shaddith put a stubborn look on her face and said nothing.

He didn't push it, in fact he seemed pleased with her; she'd guessed right this time, but the need to watch every word, every act was putting knots in her gut.

He felt around the smallest of the compartments and

Jo Clayton found the tiket from the shop, frowned as he read it. "Sent to Aleytys of Wolff, Hunter. How do you come to know her?"

"Aleytys is my guardian and guarantor." Shadith tapped the credit bracelet. "It was her dropped me off here."

He inspected the tiket again. "A personal message enclosed." He smiled. "That was clever of you, child."

"Clever? What do you mean?"

"You understand me very well."

Shadith reknotted her fingers. "All right. I wrote her about the guard who was after me. I was angry, sir. Scared, too. If I couldn't get away from him, I wanted her to come here and erase the slime. She's fond of me and she's very loyal to people she's fond of, she doesn't like people who mess with people she's fond of and those people end up very sorry for themselves if they're still alive to feel sorry."

"Ah yes, child." He was amused at her clumsy threat, but it was no time to get complacent. Just because she'd been sliding her lies past him without being called on it didn't mean that old monster was any kind of fool. He lifted the coinpurse, put the tiket under it, set the purse back with a prim finality that was probably some kind of parable meant for her enlightenment. "Yes, that does make complications which we had better deal with immediately. Shadith, describe the beast, please.".

Shadith wiped her palms on her trousers; she could feel sweat gathering in her hair again and trickling down her neck. "I don't like to think about him."

"Describe him for us now, child, and you won't ever have to think of him again." Riiight, so much for the creep.

She wriggled in the chair, wondering if she were laying it on too thick. It seemed to be working so she stopped worrying for the moment and let the words gush out. "Well, he's a guard. An ordinary guard, not an officer or anything. There's nothing different about his clothes and he's pretty average size, all of them are about the same size, I suppose they have to be to get hired. Dark hair, sort of medium skin, his face is just… oh, just a face face, nothing special about it. Urn… he… he looked kind of… I don't know… kind of soft, doughy, the way some men get when they lie around a lot, there was this wobble over his belt, he wasn't even close to fat, but you could see he might be in a few years. He was… he was thick in the shoulders, front to back and side to side. Long arms, kind of extra long, I think he was maybe ashamed of them because he hooked his thumbs in his belt a lot even when he was walking around. Um… that reminds me, on his left hand he only has three fingers, a thumb and three fingers, I mean. His pointing finger is the one that's gone. That's all I can remember."

"I think that will be sufficient. Lute?"

Lute drew his thumb along the side of his face in an arc that followed the boneline; he smiled, a tight anticipatory gesture of a mouth with the clean curves of a wooden angel despite the muffling of the flesh mask. "It'll do."

"We do not want that beast in a position to give information to the Hunter when she comes looking for her ward, do we, Lute?"

"Certainly not, sir."

"It would be a service to everyone to cleanse the Station of that sink of evil. It would also be well to bear in mind, Lute, that however noble our ends, they are susceptible to misinterpretation. Be quick and be discreet."

"I am always discreet, sir."

36 Jo Clayton

"Of course you are. One minute." He touched off the barrier field. "Number One, go with Lute and bring the child's baggage back. Number Two, take out your neural whip, please, and point it at the girl. Use it if she seems inclined to give trouble."

Shadith let her surprise show, but hoped her dismay was pushed too deep for him to catch; she could swear she'd fooled him tip to top, that he really did see her as a helpless girichild. So what was he doing treating her like some death-and-glory terrorist? That old viper, he double-knots everything. How do you fight someone like that? Wonder how far he'd go if he knew what I really am?

When Lute and the merc were gone, Bossman looked at her then said, "Now now, child, there is nothing for you to worry yourself about. Sit and be patient like the good little girl you are." Blast the man, if he were trying, he couldn't do a better job of provoking me. Gods, maybe he is. Maybe he's been leading me by the nose all this time.

When she touched at him, she read satisfaction like dusty dried flowers. And a general complacency. No. I couldn't be THAT wrong.

She squeezed her hands into fists, then forced them open and stared into her palms. I've got to do something. Transit Authority keeps the gnats away from the condors, this shuttle, it's one of the small ones, Lee's was about the same size, we couldn't be far from where she dropped me off, there was a jit park just around the bend, what bend? who the hell knows? Five minutes to the freighter tikkaboro if I pick the right turn, five minutes to dead if I don't?

She used her thumb to push the ringchron around so she could read it without turning her hand over. Sixteen twenty-five. Twenty minutes. All right, Shadow, let's see what you can finesse.

She lifted her head. "May I… may I have my things, please?"

His little birdclaw hand tap-tapping on the thick, scarred leather of her shoulderbag, Bossman chewed that over. After several minutes of heavy silence, still without saying anything to her, he dropped the bag on the floor, swung round and darked the console, tied it off and slid from the chair. He crossed to the lock, stood where Lute had been. "On your feet, child, but do not move until I tell you."

She stood up, struggling with a sense of futility that came close to despair. To get out of here she'd have to go through him. His hands were empty, his tunic hung smooth and unwrinkled over his skinny body. No sign of a weapon anywhere, but she wouldn't trust that old viper an antiquated inch. With his over-value of his withered hide, he'd be bound to have something nasty to put down threats.

"Go down on your hands and knees," he said. "Yes. That is correct. Now, proceed to the chair. Stop when you get there. Stay on your knees. Do not touch anything."

As she crawled across the gritty stained carpet, she put anger and fear on hold and settled to a grim waiting.

There was no point in regretting lost opportunities-which were most likely illusion anyway. Fly in a spiderweb, the more you struggle, the tighter the strands wrap round you. Wait. Keep your head down. Wait. Your time will come. He hasn't a notion what you are, what you can do. Wait.

"You may begin," he said. "Touch only your own things."

She picked up the bag, turned the flap back, found her comb and dropped it in. Working slowly, deliberately, keeping her movements unmistakably innocent, she collected her belongings and put them in the bag. When she was finished, she sat on her heels and waited.

Bossman contemplated her, his tar eyes gone dull. "Go back to your chair, young Shadith. No. Do not stand, go on your hands and knees. Yes." He waited until she was seated, then took his place at the console, bringing it up again. Over his shoulder, he said, "Number Two, come sit behind the girl, use your whip if she thinks of moving. We will not wait for Lute or Number One, they are taking longer than I am comfortable with. I will send you back with the shuttle later."

Shadith sat with her hands folded, her eyes down. Wait. Nothing ever goes exactly like anyone plans it, not'even his schemes, old monster. There's always a breakdown somewhere. Wait and watch. Your time will come. Be patient. Not like a good little girl, meek and obedient. Never! Like a cat at a mousehole. Wait.