by GARY DARBY
He had ordered his organization into a frenzied search, and under covert means, even used Imperium resources to seek them out.
They looked—how they looked, but with no results. The failure to find Deklon Marrel or his wife burned like someone had poured acid on him one painful drop at a time.
But now at last, he would have the satisfaction of settling a hellish debt on a long past due account.
Peller asked the next obvious question. “Anything to connect him to Deklon Marrel?”
“Not that I can see,” Star answered. “But at least now we know now where they’ve been hiding. It’s the logical place to search.”
“And Marrel’s wife? Is she still there?”
Double Star shook his head. “She died some months back.”
“That might be false,” Peller mused. “I’ll verify to make sure she’s dead and it’s not another fake Marrel death.”
Peller’s mind raced through the possibilities before asking, “You’re sure you know where the boy is and can keep close tabs on him?”
Double Star bobbed his head in response. “Oh yes, he’s on Alistar and won’t be going anywhere without my knowing.”
Peller leaned forward just a bit. “Did you say Alistar?”
“Yes,” Star replied.
Peller rubbed at his chin and whispered as if to himself, “As they say, location is everything.”
He laughed but there was no mirth. “Perfect, absolutely perfect.”
His eyes narrowed as he thought of how providential all of this was, as if he’d planned everything out himself.
Peller whipped his face up to face Star. “I’ll set things up; notify me the instant that anything changes and ensure you keep tabs on him every minute. Understood?”
“That’s not a problem; this is perfect for us. You have an idea in mind?”
Peller scowled, the expression elongating his long, thin countenance. “I swore long ago that if need be the son would pay for the father’s transgression.”
He eyed the Star Scout. “But remember, it’s Deklon that we want, and what he stole. Don’t lose sight of that.”
“I won’t,” the man retorted. “How do you know he still has the Kolomite? He must have sold it by now.”
“He hasn’t,” Peller stated in a confident manner.
He realized his mistake the instant the words left his mouth. He had just revealed his deep involvement in the Kolomite trade. Something he’d never divulged to this pawn.
While he couldn’t control the open Kolomite marketplace outright, Peller knew the planetary origin of any Kolomite sold at the Imperium trading center on Luna, as well as the ore that he purchased on the black market.
So far, none had shown up that bore Veni’s distinctive chemical markers.
In haste to avoid pointed questions, Peller changed the subject. “What about Jadar Marrel? You have misgivings about his presence at your headquarters?”
“More than just misgivings. He and Tuul are working on a project for Rosberg. I don’t know what it is yet, but I intend to find out.”
“Is there any possibility that it has anything to do with the organization?”
Double Star shook his head. “I doubt that. Even if it were, I wouldn’t have been kept out of the loop. They need my experience, my abilities.”
He didn’t say it, but Peller knew the man's thoughts: I’m too important for them to leave me out of anything significant.
Peller knew from experience, however, that Double Star’s high estimation of his standing wasn’t always realistic. And his instincts told him that General Rosberg, being a very capable leader, did not confide everything in this not-so-competent underling.
By the man’s own admission, they were keeping something from him, and he didn’t want to admit the fact. Peller made up his mind. He had sources that this man didn’t know of—he would use them to uncover Rosberg’s plan.
And if the Star Scouts moved against him, and this man couldn’t provide him with the information he needed, he would see to it that he made a permanent departure.
Peller scowled and pointed a bony finger at Star. “Use any means necessary, but find out what they are up to. I want to know everything.
“Rosberg isn’t a fool; he knows he needs allies on the High Council favorable to Star Scouts. It may be that he’s offering his services to them to use against us, which would raise his worth among the council.”
His eyes narrowed and his hard stare caught the man’s eyes, holding him in place. “If you’re not capable of this, then I’ll find someone who is.” Peller’s words trailed off, and the scout gave a start. Peller’s words were clear in meaning and intent.
“No, no,” Star responded with hasty words, “I can do this. I have a resource that may be very handy in this matter.”
“Good,” Peller replied.
Sitting back, he observed, “Most things don’t happen by accident. It’s too coincidental, too neat, that Jadar Marrel shows up at the same time that his nephew is close to finish his training.”
He tapped a finger against his cheek. “Tell me what happens during this particular test that Marrel’s son will soon undertake. The information may be useful.”
“Well, each test scenario is different, but in general . . .” The scout explained and outlined the overall undertaking.
When he finished, Peller asked, “Is there any flexibility in their travel route to their training areas? Can they change course or go to another destination?”
“Yes,” Double Star replied, “but the trainers take great care in planning each phase of these missions. They have to meet certain standards and criteria, and they strongly dislike having to diverge from the plan, but if there is some legitimate reason to deviate, they will.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, say, an onboard emergency, or in response to a distress call, or to perform search and rescue. And of course, in response to an HQ order.”
Peller thought over Star’s explanation before asking, “And how closely are they monitored? Do they stay in regular communications or have a set check-in schedule?”
“No. The evaluators are pretty independent so that they can manipulate scenarios or training tasks. They’re given a great deal of latitude in order to evaluate the fitness of each candidate.
“While the test is underway, they’re not under the normal chain-of-command protocols and operate more like a self-governing body.”
“Perfect,” Peller stated.
The Star Scout waited for Peller to continue. When he didn’t, the man asked, “Perfect for what?”
“To bring Deklon Marrel and his Kolomite home.”
“I don’t understand. How—”
Peller waved him into silence. “The cloud of suspicion hangs over Deklon, not his brother, nor his son. From what you’ve told me Jadar Marrel is a renowned scout, the son just beginning his career. Both squeaky clean and aboveboard.
“So what better way to get the goods home without suspicion, than the brother arranges for the transportation, and the son picks up and delivers the package. No one would ever suspect.”
“But” the man sputtered, “they could’ve done something like that years ago and with far less trouble. Why go through such an elaborate charade?”
“Simple,” Peller replied and leaned forward. “When the news first broke about Marrel’s disappearance with the ore, do you know how many people were out gunning for that thousand kilograms of Kolomite?
“Do you know how many rumors and possible leads I had my own people chase down in those first few years?
“And not just us, but every snitch, two-bit hoodlum, bounty hunter, and small-time mobster, all on the lookout for Marrel and his Kolomite.”
Peller drew his thin lips into a sardonic smile. “Almost like a modern-day gold rush to the stars. Anybody with a blaster and a starship to ride went looking for Marrel.
“But now, no more fervor, it’s all died down.” Peller leaned back and gave a little
shrug. “Marrel and his Kolomite have become legend, something to talk about in every Chi-Chi bar from Earth to Far Star.
“Like the old, old story of the Dutchman’s gold, a few people believe it’s still out there, but no one is searching anymore.
“Except us, of course.”
He grunted and said, “I admit, I despise Deklon Marrel, but I admire his patience. A lesser man would have given in to the temptation and tried to find a buyer for the Kolomite right after he stole it from me.
“Not him. He’s bided his time, and now he’ll use the Imperium’s own resources to bring the ore into Terran space and barter it on Luna’s legal market. Neat, simple, without suspicion.”
“I see your point,” Double Star replied. “But if what you’re saying is correct, that would implicate—”
Peller shrugged in indifference and waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter who it implicates, what matters is that you stay on top of what is going on. This may be the very break we need to catch Marrel and recover my Kolomite.”
Peller took a deep breath before saying, “And if it is, then we’re going to be there waiting for Deklon Marrel. And when he makes his appearance, we’ll close the trap shut, and we’ll both get what we want.”
He leaned forward and asked, “You are absolutely sure he’s on Alistar?” At Star’s quick nod, he commanded, “The exact location on Alistar to this son of a Marrel?”
The scout rattled off the coordinates to Peller. “Good,” Peller answered. “If the mother is indeed dead, Marrel won’t want to see his son follow his wife so soon.”
“You’re going to use his son to—” The senior scout began, only to be cut off in midsentence by Peller.
“Of course!” Peller snapped. “Just as he used my son!”
Peller rose from his seat and paced, his brow furrowed in thought. “Make sure that there are no changes to his immediate schedule—understood?
“Keep him on Alistar. It just so happens I have a team in a nearby system. They can be there within a few hours.”
The Star Scout nodded in response. Peller went on, “One final thing. I will be out of touch for a short time. A business matter that I must handle off-world. I will notify you when I return.”
Peller closed the transmission between the two and immediately opened another. A young woman faced him. Her light brown short hair, perky nose and soft blue eyes made her look like a cute pixie.
There the semblance ended. She was one of his most trusted lieutenants and not only had a penchant for quick, silent killing but was an expert at disguise.
“I have a job for you,” Peller began, “and it will need one of your trademark deceptions. Most of all, I don’t want anyone knowing that you and your team are in the organization. Understood?”
At her curt nod, he went on, “Your target is a young man by the name of Dason Thorne.” Peller went on with the details and when finished, sat back.
“He won’t be alone,” the young woman asserted, “what about those with him?”
Peller brought his fingers together pyramid fashion and thought for a moment before replying, “I’ll leave that to your discretion. If you can find a use for them, do what you want. If not . . .”
He didn’t have to finish the sentence. She knew exactly what he meant.
“How soon until you can be on the planet?” Peller questioned.
The young woman turned, seemed to be studying something for a few moments before saying, “Within three hours.”
“Excellent,” Peller replied. “I’m sending you the organization’s contact on Alistar. She’s in a position to facilitate most anything you need.”
Peller reached over to one side of the hologram, opened a file, tapped on the name he needed and then entered the transmission code to his lieutenant.
Within moments, the young woman scanned the incoming information before nodding to Peller. “Received.”
“Good. Anything else?” Peller asked.
“No,” she curtly answered.
“Remember,” Peller growled, “I want this done without alerting anyone that the organization is behind the op. Clear?”
“Very,” she answered and Peller cut off the transmission, settled deeper into his form-fitting chair and sighed with a very satisfied smile. What he had craved for so many years was now close to finally being his.
His eyes narrowed as his thoughts turned to the next two plans he needed to set in motion. The first would have to wait until he knew they had the boy in hand. But once that was done then he would entrap Deklon Marrel and get his Kolomite back.
How he would relish not only running his hands over his Kolomite but personally seeing that Deklon Marrel suffered a long and painful death. That he would enjoy as much as seeing his stolen property recovered.
His second plan? To eliminate that doddering fool if he couldn’t keep Marrel’s son straight in their sights. And if Double Star failed at that, there would be one less millstone around Peller’s neck.
The cruel upturn of his lips hinted at how much pleasure he would derive from both.
Chapter Fourteen
Star Date 2433.056
The Planet Alistar
Sprinting through the jungle, Dason could hear the enormous Chameleon Coug closing on him in fierce pursuit. He could only think of doing one thing to avoid a most grisly death.
He raced toward the river in a frantic attempt to dive in and outswim the hungry hunter. Trying to climb a nearby tree was hopeless—before he could get a handhold the cat would pounce and take him down.
And drawing his long-knife and making a stand was totally insane.
No, he would make for the river, and only after failing that, would he turn and take on the predator in a life-and-death struggle—his knife versus the cat’s ripping claws and dagger-like teeth.
The feline hunter, over two hundred kilograms of sleek meat eater, closed the gap between the two. The cat’s deep chest and slim body meant it was a speedy sprinter.
Dason was no match for its great bounds through the jungle.
His one saving grace was that the cat hadn’t attacked him in the brush. Her dappled green, yellow, and tan coat blended to perfection into its natural habitat, and it was doubtful that he would have seen the beast until it was too late.
Running hard, Dason sorely wished that the Scoutmaster hadn’t put the energy weapon restriction on the team this time.
On one level, he understood Tarracas’ s rationale for having his novices learn to use their minds first, rather than a weapon, but right now, all his mind was learning was sheer irrational terror.
Dason dashed between trees, the great cat’s roars punctuating her furious pursuit. He knew he had mere seconds before the animal swatted him with one of her massive paws, sending him sprawling to the ground. Then she would spring upon him in a vicious, tearing attack.
The shimmering through open spaces in the brush ahead gave Dason hope and with a last-second burst of speed, he crashed through the bankside bushes.
Taking two last giant strides, Dason leaped into the air; only to contort himself in midflight, and in desperation reached out to grasp a thick tree limb that jutted out over the water.
His feet kicked the water, sending up spray before he could swing them up to straddle the limb. Underneath Dason, the water churned from some enormous, unseen aquatic animal.
No sooner had Dason grabbed the tree limb than the cat broke through the leafy foliage. Unable to stop its headlong dash on the muddy embankment, the muscular feline slipped and slid down the steep slope into the water.
The animal tried to claw its way out of the river, spitting and squalling in displeasure, only to stumble in its initial leap to safety.
Before the angry cat could jump again, a fleshy ropelike tentacle shot out from the water and wrapped itself around the hapless animal. Another flesh like trunk rose from the now agitated liquid and landed on the struggling animal.
The second rope slithered around the huge cat. Together
the two long, fleshy tentacles pulled the feline further into the river.
Wide-eyed, Dason gawked as an incisor-lined mouth rose from the murky broth, clamped down on the yowling beast and dragged the unlucky victim under.
For a few seconds, the water roiled into a dark brown and red mass from the churning and then quieted down except for an occasional ripple across the smooth surface.
With arms and legs wrapped in tight coils around the sagging tree limb, Dason looked at the bloody water. He couldn’t see any traces of the fearsome cat except for a few shredded pieces of floating blood-stained fur.
Holding tight to the branch’s underside, he pulled himself towards the bank and the large tree’s trunk that had sent its life-saving limb over the river.
Soaked with perspiration and taking in deep, chest-expanding breaths, Dason reached the trunk of the tree, whose roots went deep into the river’s muddy bank. Thanks to the cat’s demise, his under-limb travel went unnoticed by the aquatic carnivore.
Easing himself down, he touched the ground and sped away from the river, putting distance between himself and whatever lay hidden under the chocolate brown water.
Fifty meters further, feeling secure that the water predator couldn’t venture this far from its natural habitat, he sunk into a patch of verdant dense foliage. He took a deep breath and allowed himself a good shake from his narrow escape.
His cocky laxity had almost cost him his life. He had forgotten that even the gentlest of off-world settings might have its share of dangers, and death still frequented the unwary, the foolish, and the careless.
Dason keyed his comms, “Team Lead, net call.” He couldn’t help but notice that there was a slight tremor in his voice.
After each of his teammates had responded, Dason said, “Predator warning. There is a large, carnivorous creature in the river. It has several long trunks that are able to seize prey and drag it into the water.
“I saw only one animal, but there may be others. Take appropriate precautions near the water.”
Sami snorted over the communicator in answer. “What did you do, step on someone’s tail?”
