Masters of the Galaxy

by Mike Resnick (ed)

  “How many Men and aliens did you have to kill along the way?” I said. “Or is that an indiscreet question?”

  “Under other circumstances, it could even be a deadly one,” answered George. “But I know that you would never use anything I told you to harm me.” He paused and flashed me a humorless smile. “Still, I would like to hear you say so before I continue.”

  “George, all I want to do is nail the son of a bitch who killed my partner. I’m not a cop. I don’t care what laws you’ve broken. No one’s paying me to get the goods on you. As long as our interests coincide, I have no problem working with you, and I promise you that anything you tell me while we’re working together will go no farther.”

  “I accept that answer,” he said. “I will put my trust in you.”

  And doubtless keep me under close watch day and night. “Good,” I said aloud. “Why don’t you start by telling me who hired Max to follow you?”

  “I don’t know,” answered George. “If I did, she’d be dead by now.”

  “Okay,” I said, “you don’t know who she was. Do you know why she had you tailed?”

  “Certainly,” said George. “She wanted to kill me.”

  “With Max?” I said disbelievingly. “The little bastard couldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “Whatever a fly may be,” said George. “No. She just wanted to know where I would be so she could have me assassinated.”

  “Why does she want you dead?”

  “Jake, do you know the size of the underground economy I control?”

  “I’m sure it’s big. I don’t play guessing games.”

  “We are, after the central government, the second largest financial entity on Odysseus.”

  “And you don’t pay taxes, either,” I said.

  “Why should we? The government supplies no services to the Alien Quarter. But I am getting off the subject. In the past month, three of my corporate directors—you would call them my lieutenants, or perhaps my henchmen—have been murdered. One could be an act of anger or passion. Two could be a coincidence. But three? Someone is trying to take over my holding company, and the quickest way to do that is to eliminate the Board of Directors and especially the CEO.”

  “Are you sure you’re not a Man in disguise?” I said. “You sure as hell sound like a corporate CEO.”

  “There are those who distrust businessmen,” said George. “But I choose to accept that as a compliment.”

  “So you think this woman’s planning to take over the Quarter’s business, or at least your end of it?”

  “I have no idea,” answered George. “She could simply be a surrogate for the Man or alien who wants to supplant me.”

  “Makes sense,” I agreed. “It could even be that the real brain behind what you would call a hostile takeover chose her because she was dumb enough to pass the drachmas he gave her a few weeks ago. Then if the cops actually bothered looking into the murder of an alien criminal kingpin, eventually the money would lead them to her—and if she’s just a bag woman, you can bet her boss will get to her before the cops do.”

  “You’ve had more experience hunting down criminals than I have,” began George. I doubted it like all hell, but kept my mouth shut. “What is our next step? My entire organization is at your disposal.”

  “That’s comforting,” I said. “Maybe in the next day or two I’ll think of something for them to do.”

  “Think quickly,” said George. “There is a powerful organization at work here, quite possibly as powerful as my own. Once they realize that you are looking into your partner’s death, and that you have allied yourself with me, I will not longer be their primary target, Jake. You will be.”

  “The thought had crossed my mind,” I said dryly.

  “I am glad to have you on our side. It is a war we must win.”

  “I’m not fighting a war,” I said. “I’m avenging a friend’s death. Once it’s done, I’m done.”

  “I thought we were going to be friends,” said George. “Perhaps someday we will be,” I replied. “But for the moment, we are honorable enemies who have declared a truce.”

  We waited until sunrise, and then George led me through winding streets to a filthy, cluttered alley, filled with alcoves and cubbyholes. We walked down it for about 50 feet, and then he stopped.

  “This is where he got it?” I asked.

  “I assume so.”

  “You assume so?”

  “I didn’t see him killed,” said George. “This is where I found the body.”

  “Why did you come looking for it?”

  “I had some of my bodyguards with me when I came back. I was curious to see why he wasn’t still following me.”

  “Great,” I said. “So the greatest criminal kingpin of Odysseus didn’t see anything, didn’t hear anything, and doesn’t know anything.”

  “Don’t be insulting, Jake,” he said. “You now know where your partner was killed. That’s something you didn’t know one minute ago.”

  “All right, I apologize,” I said. “I’m just a little tense right now.” I looked around. “Hell, we’ll need the Forensics team down here. The killer could have hidden in half a dozen places up and down this alley.”

  “At least,” agreed George.

  And then it hit me. “Why was the killer hiding in the alley in the first place?” I asked.

  “So that your partner wouldn’t see him,” said George.

  I shook my head impatiently. “That’s why he was hiding. But why here? Why not in the next alley or the next block?”

  George stared at me for a long moment. “I don’t know,” he said in troubled tones.

  “Yes you do,” I said. “I can see it in your face. You just don’t like what you know. If the killer was after Max and nothing else, he couldn’t know where Max would be—but he knew the route you would take if you knew you were being followed. That’s why he was hiding in this alley and not someplace else. You’ve got someone on your team who knows you inside out, who knew that you’d be able to spot Max and knew exactly where you’d go to lose him or pounce on him.”

  “It doesn’t make sense, Jake,” said George. “If he’s one of mine, why hasn’t he come forward and told me what he did? He couldn’t know I wasn’t in any danger. He had to figure there’d be a handsome bonus for anyone who saved my life.”

  “That’s what we have to figure out, isn’t it?” I said.

  “I’ll say it again, it doesn’t make any sense. If he works for me, why kill your partner and keep it a secret?”

  “I can think of half a dozen reasons for him to have done it.”

  “Let me hear them,” said George.

  “Okay,” I said. “There’ve got to be a big-money hit out on you. Given the size of your empire—”

  “Corporation,” he corrected me.

  “Okay, given the size of your corporation, there are probably half a dozen hits out on you. Maybe the killer thought Max was a freelance shooter, and he didn’t want to lose or share the fee.”

  “That’s one.”

  “You want another? Okay. Maybe the woman who hired Max moved too soon, disobeyed an order, tried to steal a march on her boss. This could have been a warning to her.”

  “By one of my enforcers?” said George harshly. “My enforcers don’t even step on an insect without my orders.”

  “It could be an enforcer, a secretary, an ambitious underling, even a mistress if Patrukans have them,” I said. “The fact that he or she knows your habits and is on your payroll doesn’t necessarily mean he’s yours. You’re not in what I’d call an ethical business; there are quicker ways to make it to the top than waiting for promotions.” I paused. “You want me to spell out the rest of the possibilities, or will you take my word for it?”

  “No, I believe you,” said George. “I’m not surprised that I have a traitor in my organization. I probably have quite a few. I was just mystified at the thought of one of them saving my life.”

  “Maybe he knew all th
e time that you weren’t in any danger from Max,” I said. “I’m sure you’ve had Men and aliens killed to send a message to others; that could be what happened to Max. Or maybe he was just in the way.”

  “In the way?” George repeated.

  “Between the killer and his real target,” I said, pointing at him. “We won’t know until we find the killer.”

  “So now I have to decide who I can turn my back on.”

  “You want the truth?” I said. “I’m the only one you can trust, because I’m the only person you know who doesn’t want what you have. Now, why did you come down this alley?”

  “I’ve got it rigged with force fields and stun rays,” he replied. “Whenever I think I’m in danger, I come here. All the devices are programmed to recognize me and let me pass. The first two will merely stun anyone who follows me, but no one else can reach the end of the alley alive. I figured he’d be more willing to talk to me after he’d been stunned.”

  “Okay, that explains another mystery,” I said.

  “What mystery?”

  “The message Max left saying that he was in too deep,” I said. “He couldn’t have said it after spotting his killer. He’d have been too busy running for his life.” I looked around, found a small stone, and tossed it far down the alley. It exploded when it hit one of the lethal force fields. “But if Max had seen some rodent go up in smoke like that, he’d have known he couldn’t follow you any farther, and that the job was a lot more dangerous than he’d thought. The killer was watching him, and when he knew Max was quitting, he came out of the shadows and crushed his skull. Maybe he was being paid to kill Max. Or maybe he was after you, but was afraid Max had spotted him and decided not to leave any witnesses.”

  George looked troubled. “I’ve probably got 40 subordinates who know I’ve set up this route.” His lips twisted almost into an S, which was a Patrukan’s equivalent of a frown. “We’re right back where we started, aren’t we?”

  “No,” I said. “Two minutes ago we didn’t know what scared Max off. Now we do. Five minutes ago the killer could have been anyone. Now at least we know he works for you. Or worked for you and knew your habits. Have you fired anyone who might hold a grudge?”

  “In this business, no one gets fired and no one retires. They serve until their contracts are terminated.”

  He didn’t leave any doubt that I could substitute “lives” for “contracts”. There was nothing more to see in the alley.

  “Can you deactivate the force fields?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do it.”

  Then it was time to contact Selina again. “What is it, Jake?” she said. “Night shift ended two hours ago, I’ve put in my three hours of overtime for you, and I’m going home to bed.”

  “I need a Forensics team down in the Alien Quarter. I’ve found the alley where Max was killed. I’ll feed the coordinates into your computer.”

  “I’ll send them as soon as we’re through talking.”

  “Fine. How long will it take you to run a check on every human woman to land on Odysseus in the past 30 days?”

  “Goddammit, Jake!” she said, “I’ve been here ten hours already!”

  “How long?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Half an hour?”

  “Less.”

  “Ten minutes?”

  “Oh, shut up!” she snapped. “Check back with me in five minutes.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Now I owe you three desserts.”

  She snarled at me and broke the connection.

  “Will she do it?” asked George.

  “Yeah,” I said. “She’d rather be a glamorous actress or an emperor’s kept woman, but she’s a damned good cop.”

  “Good enough to cause me problems in the future?”

  I stared at him for a long moment. “George, she’s under my protection.”

  He stared back, then nodded. “Understood.”

  Neither of us knew what to say next, so we just stood there awkwardly for a couple of minutes, and then my communicator beeped and Selina’s image popped into view. She’d looked sleepy and annoyed a few minutes ago; now she looked alert and excited.

  “You found something,” I said.

  “You bet!” she said, unable to keep from smiling.

  “You gonna tell me, or are you just gonna stand there looking smug?”

  “Did you ever hear of a world called New Warsaw, Jake?” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

  “We couldn’t be that lucky,” I said.

  “Well, if you’re sure we couldn’t, I guess I won’t tell you.”

  “Don’t make me beg,” I said. “What have you got?”

  “I’ve got two women who came here from New Warsaw in the past month,” she said. “Got your Capture on?”

  “Yeah, go ahead.”

  “The first one is Heidi Rubinski, and I’ve just fed her holo, address and passport data into your computer. The other is Elana Mador, but you probably won’t be interested in her.”

  “Why not?”

  “First of all, she’s a cop.”

  “You never heard of a dirty cop?” I said.

  “And second, she’s stationed in Ajax, 300 miles east of here. I checked, and she was on duty yesterday.”

  “What time did she get off?”

  “1600 hours.”

  That’s 4:00 PM on 24-hour worlds, but it was dinnertime on Odysseus. Still, she was one time zone ahead of us, so if she’d caught a flight or the underground zoomway right after she clocked out, she might have had time to get here when Max left the message.

  “How’s her record?” I asked.

  “As a cop? Exemplary.”

  “Can you transmit everything you’ve got on both women to my computer?”

  She nodded wearily. “Yes.”

  “Okay, and thanks, Selina,” I said. “Go home and get your beauty sleep. I’ll start with Heidi Rubinski. When you get back to work tonight, check and see if the Mador woman has any pressing debts.”

  “Will do. And Jake?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I like chocolate,” she said. “Real chocolate. From Old Earth itself.”

  “You know what that costs?” I said.

  “Don’t you think what I just gave you was worth it?” She broke the connection.

  “Don’t look distressed, Jake,” said George, who had been listening intently while standing out of camera range. “I have two warehouses of human foodstuffs. I seem to remember that one of them has imported chocolate. It is yours.”

  “I appreciate that,” I said. “The stuff costs a fortune, and not all of us are billionaire criminal kingpins.”

  “I offer you a gift, and you call me a criminal,” he said chidingly.

  “It’s my manner,” I said. “I really am grateful.” I bit my lip before I could add that he really was a criminal kingpin. “We’ve seen everything there is to see here, and we’ll just be in the Forensic team’s way. We’ve got a couple of leads. I think it’s time for us to split up and each follow one. You can start by trying to pinpoint the whereabouts of those 40 underlings who know about the alley. I’ll check on the ladies from New Warsaw.”

  “Agreed,” said George. “One way or another, I will extract the truth from them.”

  Somehow the way he said the word “extract” made me very happy I was not one of the people he’d be questioning.

  I stopped by the office just long enough to check my messages—nothing from any potential clients, plenty from the landlord and the power company—and see what Selina had sent over from headquarters. I decided I might as well interview the closer and more obvious suspect first. That was Heidi Rubinski. According to what Selina had given me, she was 37 years old, a retired schoolteacher, born on Spica II, raised on Roosevelt III, a current resident of New Warsaw. Little bells started ringing inside my head. 37 and retired? Not on a schoolteacher’s pay. And as far as Selina had been able to tell, she didn’t have any friends or family h
ere. It didn’t take much mental work to turn that into the profile of an assassin. Selina had also sent me her passport record. One trip to the McAllister system six months ago, nothing else in the past decade until she’d come here. Still, it didn’t prove anything. There were half a dozen places just on Odysseus where I could get a passport claiming that I was Julius Caesar and lived in Rome, and each of them could stand up to almost any small spaceport’s scrutiny. I checked her Odysseus address. It looked familiar, but it wasn’t until I rode the slidewalk there that I realized it was the local hospital. I walked up to the front desk, waited until a couple of other people were directed to their destinations, and then found myself face-to-face with a robot clerk.

  “How may I help you, sir?” it asked.

  “Have you got a patient here named Heidi Rubinski?”

  “Yes, sir, we do.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “You will have to confer with her physician, or the nursing station on her floor.”

  “When did she check in?”

  “You will have to confer with her physician, or the nursing station on her floor.”

  “Fine. What floor is she on?”

  “The seventh.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d care to give me her room number?”

  “You will have to confer with—”

  “Forget it,” I said.

  I walked over to the nearest airlift and rode up to the seventh floor on a warm cushion of air. There was a nursing station a few feet away and I approached it. “Yes, sir?” said a tripodal Molarian nurse.

  “I’m here to see Heidi Rubinski,” I said. “I believe she’s on this floor?”

  “Yes she is, sir,” said the nurse. “May I ask your relationship to her?”

  “Is that required?”

  “To see her? Yes, sir, it is.”

  “I’m her husband.”

  The Molarian glanced as a holo screen. “According to our records Heidi Rubinski is not married.”