by Timothy Zahn
“Like I’m going to spend much of the next year in New York,” I murmured.
“And your new Hardin Security ID trumps a city permit anyway,” he added.
“At least up until the point where Mr. Hardin notices my name on the company roster,” I warned. “Which he’ll probably go looking for at the very next audit.”
“But Mr. McMicking just said you’ve been cleared,” Bayta objected.
“Yes, but I doubt it was before I was declared in violation of my terms of bail,” I told her. “The city bureaucrats would have made sure to confiscate that half million before the charges got dropped.”
“And they did,” McMicking confirmed. “But not to worry. The half million is back in my Security Department account, all safe and sound and no one the wiser.”
I frowned at him “What did you do, rob a bank?”
“In a way,” he said. “Remember why I was on New Tigris in the first place?”
“To arrange for the disappearance of Veldrick’s illegal coral.”
“The disappearance and subsequent sale,” McMicking corrected. “Did you also forget that when I took off in the Filiaelians’ rented torchyacht I had Veldrick’s coral plus the extra stash the Fillies had brought to New Tigris with them?”
I blinked. With everything else that had happened, I had indeed completely forgotten about that. “And they had half a million dollars’ worth?”
“Half a million, plus about two million more,” he said with a tight smile. “After deducting a few extra expenditures I thought it best not to list on my expense account, I put the rest in a very discreet Manhattan bank.”
“Nice little nest egg,” I commented.
“Nice little war chest,” he corrected, his smile going grim. “As soon as we get to New York I’ll take you and Bayta in and we’ll get your names on the account along with mine.”
“I appreciate that,” I said. “But we’re not heading to Earth. Not just yet.”
He studied my face. “The Fillies?”
I nodded. “After their performance on New Tigris, I think Bayta and I should take a trip to that end of the galaxy and see what exactly the Modhri’s got going over there.”
“That’s a whole lot of real estate to poke around in,” McMicking warned. “A whole lot of distance away, too.”
“Nothing we can do about the distance,” I agreed. “But backtracking the six Fillies we ran into should hopefully give us a place to begin the search.”
“You want me to take a crack at that?”
“We’ve got the Spiders on it,” I told him. “But if you want to take a shot, too, go ahead. One can never have too much information.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he promised. “Anything else I should know?”
I hesitated. I hadn’t wanted to mention this in Rebekah’s presence, or when there were Spiders or Chahwyn in earshot, planning to wait instead until Bayta and I were alone. But now that I thought about it, I realized McMicking deserved to know, too. “One other thing,” I told them, lowering my voice a little. “This is going to sound crazy, but—” I took a deep breath. “Look. You said it yourself, that the Modhri tried to put me out of action by framing me for Lorelei’s murder. Yet by the time Bayta and I got to New Tigris, we essentially had carte blanche to find her and destroy the Abomination.”
“Not that it was a genuine offer,” Bayta put in. “All the Modhri wanted us to do was get Rebekah out of hiding so he could move in.”
“True enough,” I agreed. “But the point is that somewhere along the line the plan was suddenly changed. How could that happen?”
Bayta looked at McMicking. “I’m not sure what you’re asking,” she said.
“Neither am I,” McMicking seconded.
“Think about it,” I urged. “Bayta, especially—you were right there. We went to the Yandro transfer station to try to lose our Modhran tails and instead were offered a brand-new deal.”
I looked expectantly at them. But both faces merely looked blankly back at me. “Don’t you get it?” I said. “You aren’t going to have a Modhran mind segment at a backwater place like Yandro countermanding a plan the Modhri’s been running for months.”
“Not unless that’s the mind segment that made the original plan in the first place.”
And then, abruptly, they got it. “Oh, my God,” Bayta breathed, her eyes suddenly wide.
“Son of a bitch,” McMicking said, very quietly. “He’s back.”
“He’s back,” I said, nodding. “Or at least the top-level decision-making part of him is.”
“But that’s crazy,” Bayta insisted. “After what we did to him there?”
“No, Compton’s right,” McMicking said darkly. “After what we did there, Yandro’s the perfect place for him to move back in and set up shop. Who’d think to go looking for him again there?”
“And you know what else it means,” I said. “Not only is he possibly setting up a new homeland, but Yandro also happens to be a perfect location for an all-out assault on humanity. After this last encounter, I’m guessing he’s starting to rethink his previous mostly-hands-off policy.”
“And so the war comes home,” McMicking murmured. For a moment, he gazed thoughtfully across the station. Then, abruptly, he got to his feet. “I know it’s bad manners to invite someone to dinner and then leave,” he said. “But suddenly I’m feeling like I ought to get back to work.”
“We understand,” I said. “Good luck.”
“Good hunting,” he replied, his eyes flicking to each of us in turn. “Oh, and that Beretta I loaned you? Go ahead and keep it.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Buy yourself a new one out of the war chest.”
He smiled faintly. “Thanks,” he said. “I may do that.”
He headed across the restaurant and out the door. I caught a final glimpse of him as he circled a planter on his way to the shuttle hatches, and then he was gone. “You hungry?” I asked Bayta.
“Not really,” she said, her eyes gazing at nothing. “Maybe we ought to get back to work, too.”
“And it’s a long way to the Filiaelian Assembly,” I agreed. “Get us a train, and let’s go.”
I started to stand up, but she caught my arm. “Frank . . . is that the only secret you’re holding on to?”
“What makes you think I’m holding on to any secrets at all?” I countered, reflexively sidestepping the question.
She didn’t answer, but just gazed silently into my eyes. I gazed back, wondering again at this strange woman who had become so much a part of my life. Who’d become my ally, and my companion.
And my friend. “There is one more,” I admitted. “But I can’t tell you about it. Not yet. I promised.”
She took it in stride. “Is it something that could mean danger?”
“Not yet,” I said. “Maybe not ever. Mostly, it’s just a little disturbing.”
She gave me a lopsided smile. “You don’t have to protect me, you know,” she pointed out. “I’m big and strong and not afraid of the dark.”
“It’s not you I’m protecting,” I assured her. “It’s the other guy.”
For another minute she studied my face. Then, to my relief, she gave a small nod. “All right,” she said. “But if I ever need to know . . .?”
“You’ll be the first,” I promised.
After all, I decided, as we left the restaurant, the Chahwyn were only my employers. Bayta was my friend.
And it really was a long way to the Filiaelian Assembly. Somewhere along the way, we might very well run out of other things to talk about.
You never knew.
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