Эрик Флинт - The Service of the Sword

"Papers," the security man said, looking away. The woman was obviously Solarian and you'd think she would have taken advantage of a face-lift. Or, hell, a full biosculpt.

"Manny! Give this idiot our papers!"

"Mother!" Gonzalvez replied as Mládek silently handed over the papers for the whole group.

"We're on the 1550 shuttle," the admiral said deferentially. "Mistress Warax is a Solarian trade delegate and must not be delayed."

"She will be," the cop grunted, scanning the paperwork and then remotely scanning the threesome. "There's a one hundred percent increase in security; it's bound to slow you down somewhat."

"Whatever for?" Gonzalvez said, marshaling the bags.

"We've got three or four Manty spies running around," the cop replied with a nod. He handed back the paperwork and gestured into the terminal. "Sooner or later they'll either make a break for the spaceport or we'll run them to ground."

"Well, that's not our problem!" Mullins snapped, leaning on his cane. "I warn you, if you delay my departure, Rob Pierre himself will hear about it! You understand me, sonny?"

"Yes, Mistress Warax," the cop said. "If you'll please proceed into the terminal. Will you need assistance? A float chair can be arranged."

"Yes, of course I need assistance, you moron!" Mullins replied. "Do you think I use this damned stick as an affectation?!"

The float chair was hastily summoned and Mullins rode into the port in semi-regal fashion. It was a well-known fact that without the covert support of members of the Solarian League, the Haven/Manticore war would have been long over, in Manticore's favor. So it was no surprise that their cover as Solarian trade representatives was a key to favor. It would not, however, keep them from being intensely scrutinized on the way to the shuttle.

Gonzalvez confirmed their reservation on the Solarian liner Adrian Bayside then led the group towards the long line for the final security scan. As he did, an overly abundant blonde, obviously a local and gorgeous in a trimly cut suit, cut in front of him.

"It looks like they're choosing every fifth person for a full-body search," Gonzalvez said. "That's . . . new."

"And unpleasant," Mullins replied softly.

"I don't think you have to worry," Mládek said sardonically as the StateSec guards who were "assisting" the usual security started to swarm around the blonde who had cut them off.

As she approached the security scanner, the head of the StateSec detail waved her out of line and pointed towards a side door; she had apparently been "randomly" selected as a potential threat.

"Pass," the guard said to Mládek as they approached the scanner. He was looking towards the side door angrily in the realization that he was going to miss the show. "Pass, pass, just get on through," he snarled.

The scanner field was a more advanced system than the simple hand scanners of the guards; among other things, if it was set high enough, it could conceivably detect not only the fact that Mullins was male, but that he and Gonzalvez were loaded with special ops "goodies." They were well concealed, but with some of the technology transfers from the Sollies, there was a possibility of detection.

So it was with a certain amount of trepidation that Mullins clambered off the float chair and muttered his way through the scanner. As he did, however, he had to repress a chuckle.

The scanner had two lights, one red and one green. The green was supposed to shine all the time as a tell-tale. However, the lights occasionally went out and given the Havenite approach to maintenance it was no surprise that this one was dark. However, what was also interesting was that the scanner was unplugged; the plug was sitting on the ground, a meter from the wall socket.

Mullins was morally certain he knew what had happened. The local guards had been told to crank the scanner through the roof. But after a few hours of constant false alarms, they had surreptitiously unplugged it so they could return to their regular routine.

Whatever had caused it, they clearly had nothing to fear. Mullins unobtrusively tapped Gonzalvez on the ankle then gestured at the plug as he walked through. The scanner, naturally, gave nary a beep, even at the metal in his cane.

He suppressed a grin as he took Gonzalvez' arm for "assistance" then started to join Mládek. At that moment, though, there was a shout from behind them.

"You three, halt!" The captain of the StateSec detail, returned from his "security check" of the dangerous blonde, gestured at the bored local guard.

"What in the hell is that scanner doing unplugged?" the StateSec captain snapped.

"Uh," the local guard said.

"Plug it back in," the captain snarled. "You three, back through the scanner!"

"The hell if I will," Mullins said, waving his cane. "Do you know who I am?"

"No, and I don't care," the StateSec officer said dangerously.

"Now Mother," Gonzalvez said soothingly. "We should do as the Captain says."

"I'll have you know that I know Rob Pierre!" Mullins said. "And he will not be happy that you have slowed us on our way back to Despartia!"

"Captain," one of the local guards said, trotting up and panting. "Is your communicator turned on?"

"What?" he asked, reaching down and activating the device. "No. I was . . . monitoring a procedure that required my undivided attention. And what is it to you ?"

"Nothing, Sir," the private said, coming to attention. "But you might want to contact Colonel Sims. All of the communicators in your team were turned off; he thought you'd been taken out but there wasn't any incident report. The thing is, the Manty spies have been cornered in a warehouse in the company of a local woman. Team Five has them pinned down, but the Manties have some heavy firepower. Colonel Sims is calling in all of the StateSec units."

"Shit," the captain snarled. "You," he said, pointing at the scanner operator. "Get that plugged back in and get the rest of them through the line. You," he continued. "My team is in the interrogation room. They should be about done. Get them while I call the Colonel."

"Yes, Sir," the private said sardonically. "In the interrogation room, huh?"

"Never you mind that," the captain snapped, striding away.

The scanner operator waited until he was out of sight then waved to Mullins.

"You can go, Mistress. My apologies for the delay."

"Not your problem," he replied in a querulous voice. "But I've got the name of that captain. If he thinks Colonel Whatsisname is a problem, just you wait until I get done with him."

He got back on his float chair, which had been helpfully brought around the scanners, and proceeded towards the gate.

"We're early," Gonzalvez said.

"I know. I'd figured more time getting through security."

"So we just lie low?" Mládek said.

"Yeah," Mullins replied, guiding the float chair over to a corner near the gate. "I'm going to take a nap; I had a long night."

Gonzalvez snorted then looked up as the blonde came into the gate, still straightening her clothing. "I'd like a long night with that."

"She doesn't look too happy, does she?" Mullins muttered.

"Not particularly," Gonzalvez said. "Ah, there's our scanner tech."

"Go see if he's got any information on what's going down downtown," Mullins said.

Gonzalvez walked over to the tech, who was obviously headed for his break, and waved him down.

"Pardon me, good fellow," Gonzalvez called. "I was just wondering if you could tell me something."

"Depends on what it is," the tech replied with a smile to reduce the sarcasm.

"The other fellow mentioned some sort of a shoot-out downtown," Gonzalvez said. "I'm just curious about it."