The Wind After Time

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The Wind After Time Page 14

by Chris Bunch


  Chapter Fourteen

  Edet Sutro’s body was strapped to a door that had been removed from its hinges and laid across two stone benches in the mansion’s wine cellar. Wolfe touched the tip of a spray to Sutro’s neck and pressed a stud.

  “He’ll be back with us shortly,” Joshua said. “Candia, would you pack our stuff. We’ll be leaving as soon as we finish our chat and Mister Libanos comes back with the lighter.”

  “How long do we have?” Candia asked.

  “You mean before we have to worry about the law? Probably almost forever. Sutro’s boys, being illegals, will take a long time to decide it’s okay to go legal and holler for help.”

  “As for the heat themselves—first somebody with the casino will have to make the connection between me and that bomb, which should take three or four days. About that time they’ll start checking everybody who has anything to do with the place, and you’ll be the only one who turns up missing. Then they’ll play connect-the-dots.”

  “By then we’ll be on our third jump out of here, and the Libanoses will have gone to ground wherever they wish.

  “Ah. Mister Sutro has returned,” he said, seeing the bearded man’s eyelids flutter. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

  Thetis had been staring fascinatedly at the bound figure. “What are you going to do to him?”

  Joshua half smiled. “Very little. Mister Sutro is no fool, and so he’ll be more than willing to share a bit of his tawdry past with me.”

  The girl hesitated and then, at Candia’s frown, followed the older woman out and up the stairs. The door closed with a thud.

  Sutro’s eyes were open, sentience returning.

  “Edet, my name is Joshua Wolfe. I know who you are, what you are,” the warrant hunter said without preamble.

  “You’re the gambler that was looking for me,” Sutro said.

  “I was looking for you. But I’m not a gambler.”

  “What, then? Law? FI?”

  “Let’s say… freelance talent.”

  “Who are you working for?”

  “Since I’m the one who isn’t tied up,” Wolfe said, “I prefer to ask the questions.”

  “You won’t get any answers.”

  “Oh, but I shall.” Joshua pulled up two empty crates and sat on one. He reached in his pocket, took out the Lumina, put it on the other crate between the two. Sutro started and then tried to cover it.

  “You remember a thief named Innokenty Khodyan?”

  Sutro clamped his lips shut. Joshua put a hand on the Lumina, waited until it flamed high, and fixed his stare on Sutro. The man squirmed.

  “I do,” he said. “He got killed before I could meet him.”

  “I killed him.”

  “Ben Greet said he’d been taken by a warrant hunter.”

  “That’s one of my trades.”

  “There aren’t any warrants on me.”

  “I know that. At least not under the name of Sutro. And I don’t have much interest in knowing what your parents tagged you with.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Innokenty Khodyan was a pro. He’d hit ten, a dozen worlds, then go to his fence—I don’t know if he always used you or if there were others—to dump what he had.”

  “I’m guessing he mostly worked off tips and the obvious targets.”

  “He did that on his last run. With one exception. This stone.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Sutro, I’m not a fool. You’re big, you’re good, but I don’t think even you would know just where to fence an Al’ar Lumina.”

  Sutro didn’t answer.

  “You know of a man named Malcolm Penruddock? A retired judge on Mandodari III. Crooked, the word had it. He owned this Lumina, and Innokenty Khodyan took it from him.”

  “Never heard of him,” Sutro said. “I bought from Innokenty, bought almost anything he had. He knew what to steal and what it was worth. He never said anything about that Al’ar rock when he messaged me and said he was ready to sell some things.”

  “Don’t lie, Edet,” Wolfe said, his tone mild. “You will not be rewarded in the afterlife.”

  “Who came to you, told you about Penruddock’s Lumina, and said they wanted it?”

  Sutro shook his head.

  “There’s two ways I could go,” Wolfe said. “Three, come to think about it. The messy way, which could get bloody and take a while. The Al’ar way…”

  He picked up the Lumina and held it in front of Sutro’s eyes. The man squirmed, trying to pull away from it.

  “Let me remind you of something, Edet,” Wolfe went on. “I spent six years with the Al’ar. Three as their prisoner… and three more before that. Studying their ways.”

  “Sometimes the Al’ar needed information. Then they’d decide to take a prisoner. You know how often he talked? All the time, Edet. One hundred percent. Of course, he wasn’t worth much afterward. The mind didn’t come back like it should’ve.”

  “Mostly the Al’ar did the merciful thing and killed them. But a few lived. I guess, somewhere back in the Federation, there’s probably still a couple of wards full of those people, rotting, dead except their chests move every now and again. We could do it like that, Edet.”

  “But I’m not as good as the Al’ar. I might get a little sloppy.”

  He paused. “That’s another way. Then there’s the sensible way.” He set the Lumina to the side. “You tell me what I want to know, and I’ll give you something that’ll maybe keep you alive for a while.”

  “Right.” Sutro sneered. “I go first, of course.”

  “No,” Joshua said. “I’ll tell you right now. As I said, this is the sensible way. Penruddock’s dead. So’s his wife. I was with them when they got killed.”

  “Why do I care about a couple of bodies I’ve never even heard of?”

  “Lying again, Sutro. Don’t do that.” Wolfe reached out with a finger and ran it caressingly down behind Sutro’s ear and along his jaw line. The bearded man bellowed in agony, his eyes going wide in shock like a poleaxed steer.

  Wolfe waited until the man’s moans subsided.

  “They were killed in sort of an unusual way. Two cargo lighters full of gunsels came in at full tilt, strafed their house, then hauled to the spaceport where their ship was waiting. From there, they vanished like they’d never been.”

  “I thought that was a little exotic a way to do paybacks for a little malfeasance in office.”

  “Now, the interesting thing, and the reason I think he was killed, was I’d shown up on Mandodari in. I was using my real name, which was a mistake. I’m guessing somebody knew who I was, maybe had an ear on Penruddock’s com, and didn’t want us to get too friendly.”

  “It takes money to hire a ship and hitters who don’t give a shit if they scatter a few bodies around the landscape.”

  “I’d be a little concerned if I were you, Sutro, that maybe your client might want to police up the other end of the connection.”

  “Now you know what I was going to tell you. You return the favor, I unstrap you, and before we lift I’ll drop a call to your goons to come get you.”

  “Then you’d better think about doing a little running yourself.”

  Sutro licked his lips, thinking. Wolfe sat completely still.

  “All right,” the fence said after a time. “I’ve got no choice, do I? The Lumina was a contract job. You’re right. I went to Innokenty, gave him the word, told him what it paid.”

  “It was a lot, Wolfe. Enough for the stupid bastard to just go in, grab the Lumina, and get out.”

  “But you know crooks. Never steal one thing if they can take a dozen.” Sutro tried to shrug but found the straps confining. “Not that I gave a rat’s ass. I thought it’d maybe put up a smoke screen.”

  “So who was the client?”

  “You aren’t going to believe me. It was the Chitet.”

  Wolfe tried to cover his reaction but failed.

  “That’s right,” Su
tro went on. “Maybe you best take your own advice and think about hatting out of town, eh? Maybe whatever commission you’ve been offered for whatever you’re hunting doesn’t look so fat once you realize you’re going up against an entire goddamned culture, now, does it?

  “Also explains how somebody could afford to hire all those heavies that slotted Penruddock, doesn’t it?”

  “Thanks for the advice, Edet,” Joshua said dryly. “Now get back to the point.”

  Sutro shrugged. “One of their sobersides came to me, said they wanted something. They, not he. I asked him if he was speaking for the movement or whatever they call themselves. He said as far as I was concerned, yes. Then he told me the details. I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about. I wasn’t a man who dealt with crooks, let alone jewel thieves. He must be thinking of some other person named Sutro.”

  “The man just smiled politely and told me… well, let’s say he told me enough about myself so I would’ve been wasting time playing innocent any longer.”

  “They had a complete file on Penruddock. Who he was, who his wife was screwing, plans of their house, data about their servants… everything. The file was like what I’d imagine Federation Intelligence might have.”

  “What was their price?”

  “Ten million credits on delivery. Plus my expenses.”

  Wolfe lifted an eyebrow. “Penruddock told me he paid only two and a half for it.”

  “And he was paying top credit. I’ve seen—heard, actually—of two or three of those things surfacing, and generally they go out for one and a half, maybe two, outside.

  “But who was I to tell the Chitet they were wasting their money?”

  “What did they want with it?”

  “Come on, Wolfe. I wasn’t about to ask that kind of question.”

  “Any theories?”

  Sutro shook his head.

  “How do you know it was the Chitet? Couldn’t it have been maybe a dozen of them who’d decided to go into some kind of business of their own?”

  “Could have been,” Sutro said. “But I don’t think so. I was given a complete list of com sites to use if there were any problems. There were places on ten, a dozen worlds, plus some blankies I don’t know where.”

  “So you were briefed, and I assume they gave you a retainer. How big?”

  “A mill.”

  “That tends to make you take people seriously. What came next?”

  “I went to Innokenty and put him in motion.”

  “Then what?”

  “I waited.”

  “Did you have any further contact with the Chitet?”

  “That was the only physical contact I had and the only Chitet I ever met. Although he had four security types with him. All dressed like they always do, like they’re damned religious caterpillars.”

  “While Innokenty Khodyan was off being a villain, did they contact you?”

  “Two, maybe three times.”

  “How impatient were they?”

  “I couldn’t tell. They were always calm, always quiet. I’d never had anything to do with them before, just read about them. They behaved just like I’d imagined they would.”

  “What happened when things went wrong and you found out Innokenty Khodyan was dead and the Lumina was gone?”

  “I contacted the main number they’d given me and talked to the voice there. They never turned their vid pickup on. And it always sounded like the same voice.”

  “How’d he take it?”

  “Weird,” Sutro said. “I could have been talking about the weather. I had the strange notion that if I’d said I had the Lumina in my hand, I would’ve gotten the same no-bother comeback, as well.”

  “How did they end it?”

  “That was strange, too. I was told I could keep the retainer, and possibly I would be dealing with them again in the future. They told me to dump all the information I had, though. They’d come to me.”

  “So where’s the list of com sites?”

  “Wolfe, as you said, I’m no fool. When Ben Greet said Innokenty had been nailed by the law, I jumped out of there and reported. I would have blanked my data even if they hadn’t told me to. I’ve stayed clean because I stay clean.”

  Wolfe considered for a moment, then loosened Sutro’s straps and pulled one arm free. He picked up the Lumina and held it out.

  “Edet, touch the stone.”

  Sutro hesitated.

  “Go ahead. Nothing’ll happen to you.”

  Reluctantly the fence obeyed. Once more the stone flamed colors. Wolfe closed his eyes, appeared to listen, then set the Lumina down and refastened Sutro’s bonds.

  “All right. If you’re lying, you’re lying to yourself, too.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Not quite. Now, you’re going to go through every detail, as it happened, from the time the Chitet came to you, what these men looked like, and everything else until you dumped your files.”

  * * * *

  “There he comes,” Thetis said. “See? From just behind that island five points off north.”

  The lighter was a white dot against the blue water and sped toward the island at high speed, not more than two yards above the water, foam frothing up on either side of the hull.

  Joshua and Candia’s travel cases were stacked on the verandah, and Thetis sat on one of them.

  The lighter slowed as it neared the beach. But instead of berthing at the pier, it cut its drive, skewed sideways, and settled down into the water about thirty yards offshore. The front hatch lifted.

  “Get down,” Joshua snapped, pulling Candia sprawling behind one of the cases, then yanking Thetis to the cover of one of the verandah’s columns. Bewildered, she crouched. A gun appeared in Joshua’s hand.

  A man stood in the lighter’s hatch. He was not Jacob Libanos. In spite of the heat, he wore sober, dark clothing. He had a neat goatee. A man and a woman appeared beside him. One was Libanos. The woman, dressed in quiet, subdued clothing, held a gun against the old man’s side.

  A loudspeaker crackled.

  “Joshua Wolfe. Please surrender. We do not wish to provoke bloodshed. We know you have the man named Sutro, and we wish to talk to both of you. Do not force us to take physical action.”

  “Bastard,” Joshua swore, then regained control. “Candia, you and Thetis go out the back. Try to find a place to hide. I’ll try to stall them. They shouldn’t look for you too hard.”

  “Joshua Wolfe,” the voice came again. “Please come into the open with your hands raised. Tell the others in your party to do the same, or else Libanos will be shot. This is not an empty threat.”

  “Go on, you two!” Joshua said.

  “No.” The voice belonged to Thetis.

  Joshua turned his head. She had her small pistol out, aimed at his head.

  “No,” she said again. “We do just what that man wants.”

  “Thetis—”

  “That’s my grandfather! Do what I said!” Her voice was shaking, but it was very determined. Candia started to say something.

  “Shut up,” Thetis snapped.

  Joshua stared at her, then grunted, spun his pistol out into the open, and stood, lifting his hands.

  * * * *

  The two men pushed Joshua into the room. He stumbled, nearly went down, regained his balance. He was naked and blindfolded.

  He felt four others in the room, but none of them spoke. After a moment a woman laughed deliberately. For a moment Joshua felt comfortable. That was very much part of the familiar basics of interrogation.

  The woman spoke. “Is it agreed that I speak for the Order?”

  Three voices agreed.

  “Joshua Wolfe, we desire certain information from you. It is expected that you will not cooperate. Unfortunately, we have but a limited period of time to secure this data, and so we shall be forced to use methods that are normally abhorrent to us, save in the most extreme cases.”

  “This is such a time.”

  Wolfe ba
rely had time to sense the blow before it hammered into his diaphragm. He gasped and staggered, and he was hit twice more, once in the kidneys, then in the side of the head.

  He went down, curled, protecting his privates, smelling pine oil from the floor, tasting blood and vomit in the back of his throat.

  A kick thudded into his back, another into his ribs. A hand grabbed his neck and twisted it, and three times a fist smashed into his face.

  “That is enough. Remove him,” the woman said.

  * * * *

  This time Joshua had been permitted to wear a thin pair of pajama pants that might once have been white but now were soiled with bloodstains, filth, and dried excrement, none of it his. His eyes were uncovered.

  He was pulled from the room they’d picked for his cell, a large, windowless storage room at the back of the mansion. He had no idea where the others were.

  One man held a blaster on him; the other two strapped his hands behind his back with plas restrainers. They frog-marched him down the corridor into what had been the dining room. Wolfe saw his own bloodstains on the polished wooden floor. Now the windows had been covered, and the long table had been moved to the side. There were four chairs behind it. Two of them were occupied, one by a woman, not unattractive, in her thirties, hair worn in a convenient pageboy cut. The man was some years older, with gray close-cut hair and a neat goatee. Both wore quiet clothing that came close to being a uniform. There was a gun on the table in front of the woman.

  Two of the guards left. The one who remained was squat and heavy-muscled, with narrow eyes that never left Wolfe.

  “Is it agreed that I speak for the Order?” the woman said, no question in her voice.

  “It is.”

  “Joshua Wolfe, I require you to answer certain questions. You will answer them fully and completely.”

  “To whom am I speaking?”

  “You may call me Bori. It is not my name but will give you a symbol to use.”

  “Where are my friends?”

  “They are still alive and are being kept secure. You should be aware that their safety depends on your cooperation, of course.”

  “When you have what you need, what do you intend doing?”

  “I do not think that pertains to the moment,” Bori said. “I am the one with the questions.”

 

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