Mercedes Lackey - The Wizard of Karres

"Well, good. I want them as confused as possible; that can only be to our benefit." He thought of something else. "So, how are they fitting in?"

It would be very awkward if these people were used to being with a showboat. The tall tales spun about every member of a showboat crew would not distract them too much, and once they got themselves oriented, it wouldn't be long before they got onto the truth—or figured out that if nothing else, sign-on dates and the identity of the ships welded to the frame would be found in Himbo Petey's own records.

"According to Pul, like desert-cats in a swamp. Which argues for them being ISS agents. I would think that the pirates would know better—or would have operatives that spent time on a showboat in the past."

"The ISS isn't stupid—"

"No, but this far out in the hinterland, what you get are agents that were put out here because they weren't good enough to be entrusted with truly important postings, or were stupid enough to do something that made it necessary to transfer them where they couldn't do much harm. If they aren't ambitious, they're going to be unhappy because their comfortable paper-pushing existence has been interrupted by a tedious, possibly dangerous job. If they are ambitious, they're going to be blundering about doing plenty of wrong things, because they don't know that what they need to be good undercover agents won't be found in a book." Hulik sighed. "They get posted out to places like this because at least there's a smaller chance that they'll get themselves killed or do something to anger someone important."

Pausert hesitated, then asked the question that had been lurking in the back of his mind ever since Hantis told them about the plague. "Hulik, what are the odds, do you think, that someone high up in the ISS is infected by Hantis' Nanites?"

She leaned back in her chair, and licked her lips. "You do know how to ask the nasty ones, don't you? Truth to be told, I think it's quite likely, odds of up to fifty percent. I've thought that ever since that ISS goon overrode your safe-conduct from the Empress."

She began ticking things off on her fingers. "Whoever it is knows about Karres witches, believes in them, and wants them. Whoever it is does not have the Empress' best interests at heart, and does not want whatever information it is that we carry to get to the Empress. Whoever it is knows about Hantis and Pul, and possibly wants them disposed of as well." She shrugged. "Now, that could cover both someone high up in court circles who has ambitions for becoming Emperor himself or working for someone who does—but it covers someone in the ISS infected by the plague equally well."

Pausert's heart sank; but then he, too, shrugged. "I suppose it doesn't make much difference at this point, does it?"

"No. Whoever is behind this is high enough up in ISS circles that if Hantis can't do anything, we're on our own for the moment."

She looked pensively at a poster on the wall advertising romantic getaways on Beta Caeleen. Goth had been sticking them up to cover the paint splatters from the first appearance of the little silver-eyed vatch. It seemed an eternity ago.

"I used to like being a lone operative," she said, sounding oddly plaintive. "In fact, I used to like being an operative, period. I must be getting old. It isn't fun anymore. I find myself wishing I had a lot of people at my back, and that I was doing things using my brain rather than a gun, things with a lower chance of getting me killed. A desk has begun to look a lot more attractive than it used to."

Pausert stared at her. "You aren't actually thinking about settling down, are you?"

"It has its merits," she said wistfully. Then she shook her head. "No, not really. You know how it is. Everyone wants what they don't have, and then, if they get it, half the time they discover they don't want it after all."

Pausert wasn't fooled. She was thinking about it! He tried to imagine it. Hulik do Eldel, in a little house, behind a desk. Maybe even married, and with children!

Great Patham! What would any children she raised be like? Worse than young witches, even, probably wreaking havoc on their kindergarten, playing "pirates and hostages" with real Blythe guns, breaking into the creche offices at night to rifle through the teacher's desk, looking for blackmail material . . .

"It wouldn't suit you," he said firmly. "You'd be bored before the first day was over."

"You're probably right," she replied, still sounding wistful. "Still, with the right set of circumstances, the right job, and the right partner . . ."

"We're getting closer," said Sedmon to Sedmon. "At Hanson's Reach we missed them by weeks. Maybe we can catch up finally on Tornam."

"Provided we don't have to clean up any more messes along the way," cautioned the second Sedmon. "Eliminating Imperial agents is a dangerous pastime."

The first Sedmon shrugged. "He was too curious as to why we wanted descriptions of the cast of the Petey Byrum and Keep. The lattice ships do get watched. They're good cover, mind you. I think we need to look into investing in one, someday."

* * *

The Sedmons back on Uldune nodded. "The records here indicate that several of them are considerably indebted to our bank. And the one we're following is in financial difficulty."

"The records we've looked at indicate this to be the norm. They're potentially profitable, of course, but it's usually the debt load that cripples them. And a lot of the showmen seem to have the financial acumen of a Humpity. But this Himbo Petey seems a cut above most. Our contact with the Imperial Bank of Credit and Commercial Ventures does indicate that he's been trying to bring it under control."

* * *

All of the Sedmons knew they were avoiding thinking about how they would deal with meeting up with Hulik do Eldel. Like almost all of the Daal's citizens, she was blissfully unaware that she'd actually met, physically, four different bodies. The same mind, of course.

At one stage, when they'd first begun considering a personal liaison with the Imperial agent, the hexaperson had assumed they would conduct it the same way as they dealt with the people of Uldune—with one of them on display and the rest in reserve, in hiding. But as time went on, and the do Eldel grew more central to their thoughts, the thought of deceiving her became distasteful. Besides, as intelligent and capable as Hulik was, it would probably be futile as well. Even though the Daal had kept a certain distance from her in the past, he suspected that she had already guessed at least part of the truth.

But they'd deal with that issue once they caught up with her. First, they had to do that.

At long last, Pausert relled vatch. And he could tell that this was a vatch that he had relled before. Goth relled it at the same time, and looked up sharply. "Is that our old friend, Captain?"

A patch of misty black blinked silver-slitted eyes at him. "I believe it is."

Hello, Real Thing. Are you going off to be stories for the waking-dreamers now?

As a matter of fact, we are . He did not ask where the vatch had been. Truth to tell, he wasn't sure he really wanted to know.

Good.

Are you planning on luring more victims here? he asked cautiously.

Not now.

"Time, Goth," he said, and Goth put away her headphones with a sigh. They looked as if they were plugged into her personal player; they were, and they weren't, because one of the channels on her personal player was set to scan all the com that was coming from inside the Petey B as relayed from the Venture .