Revenge of the Catspaw

by Helena Puumala

  “John Mogron, Geof Copoz, and Evella Copoz,” he read out loud. “Claiming Mallora as the planet of origin.”

  He stared at them, while they glared back at him.

  “I don't think so,” he then said, “although I imagine that you have friends on that world. The Malloran Capital is known to be a hot-bed of intrigue and treason, although most of the rest of the planet is a beautiful place.”

  The Neotsarians remained silent—sensible of them, Coryn thought.

  “You were caught trying to board my passenger vessel carrying on your persons obviously forbidden items,” Captain Wen continued, apparently choosing his words carefully. “Why would you do such a thing? Were you planning to endanger any or all of my passengers in some way?”

  “The gems are not forbidden items,” Evella Copoz interjected angrily. “Why were a woman's baubles taken away from me?”

  “Actually, those Stones that you had are forbidden items,” Coryn responded. “According to the latest Confederation regulations, amartos are not to be bought, sold, or traded, on the open market. When obtained by a merchant they are to be turned over to a Confederation Government representative. I'm not quite certain how, and from whom, you obtained them on Kordea, but I'd wager that the transaction was one not approved by the Planetary Authorities.”

  “How we got them is not a matter for a male whore from Space Station RES,” snapped Evil Evella.

  “Perhaps,” Coryn replied laconically, “but it is a matter for the Chief Kordean-Confederation Liaison Officer, which is the position I presently hold.”

  “Watch your mouth, Evella,” Geof muttered to his spouse.

  Coryn could not help but grin.

  “She's not very good at watching her mouth,” he said to Geof. “She was a great source of information to us alyen-spies, on RES, while I was still working that gig. Still is, to those who took over the job when I left, I believe.”

  Evella snarled, while the men with her glared angrily at Coryn. He merely shrugged, and turned to nod at Captain Wen to return the floor to him.

  The Captain had been glancing at his screen during the verbal duel.

  “Laser pistols, blasters, and 'snoopers' were removed from the people who earlier complained about the air quality in their cabins, forcing us to bring in a Port-side technician to take a look at the air-recycler, at the cost of keeping us from our normal schedule,” he said coldly. “Since you three were in contact with these individuals while you were still in Trahea, I presume that they are associates of yours?”

  “How do you know...?” Evella began, but her husband covered her mouth with his hand to silence her.

  “It is my business to know what happens on my ship,” Captain Wen said shortly. “The items have, of course, been confiscated, and will not be returned. They will be turned over to the Port Security at our next stop, to be used as evidence for the new directive which I have asked for: the searching by Port Security Teams of each and every person who is suspected of being a Neotsarian, before being allowed aboard the mega-transports.”

  The men accompanying Evella looked grim. She, brushing off her husband's hand merely looked angry.

  “Like we don't have ways of getting around the Galaxy without using their blasted big ships,” Coryn heard her mutter, in a voice barely loud enough for him to hear.

  She eyed him as she spoke; startled, he realized that the mutter was intended for his ears. It was a threat of sorts, of what, he did not know. What were the Elites up to? What had the Guru Johannes' timely intervention prevented?

  **

  Coryn was back in spacer accommodations; quite the change from the Liaison Office Official Residence, he mused to himself as he traversed the corridors to the cabin he was to share with the Guru and the Greencat. At least he was bunking with the two sentients he knew, rather than being stuck with strangers. The tradition of stuffing the maximum possible number of travellers into small spaces had a long history. The space behemoths were guilty of it, he was not quite sure why, unless it was to charge exorbitant rates for the few solo cabins available.

  His cabin mates had settled in when he arrived.

  “What did the Captain want with you?” the Guru asked Coryn as the latter tossed his pack on the last free bunk—one of the two lower ones—and sat down next to it.

  The Greencat had comfortably settled into the single upper berth.

  “He brought the Neotsarian Elites in for a bit of a lecture,” Coryn answered. “I think that my presence was more to show them that he meant business than anything else. That he was aware of what's going on in the Galaxy, and they weren't fooling him. He has sent a directive to the Transportation Authority to the effect that, thanks to their underhanded ways, all suspected Organization travellers are to be searched for contraband before they are allowed to board the big liners. Which is an excellent thing, although it may annoy a few people who are deemed suspicious, but aren't.”

  “So what I did seems to have had a positive result,” said the Guru with a grin.

  Coryn chuckled.

  “Indeed. Although the Kordean Witches are getting the credit for it.”

  Then he sighed, and added:

  “I'm sure the Neotsarians haven't given up on their plans—whatever they may be. I had the feeling that Evil Evella Copoz was directing a threat at me, before she settled down to listen to Captain Wen's final lecture, gritting her teeth. There seemed to be more to it than just her ire because I pointed out that her 'womanly baubles' which were confiscated at the Trahea Port were, in fact, contraband.”

  “Be careful, Coryn,” the Guru said. “You're an adult, and I don't want to tell you what to do, but the truth is that Marlyss will have my hide if I don't mention to you that what I sense from that woman is a desire to punish you for something or other—it's not clear exactly what.”

  Coryn sighed again.

  “Possibly just for being me, and a sworn enemy of The Organization.” Then he smiled at the Guru. “Nice to know that Marlyss cares,” he added.

  “She does. She cares a lot. I think that to her you have taken the place of the son that she never had the opportunity to have. It's a heavy load that The Eldest of the Circle of the Twelve must carry. Not much chance for a private life.”

  “I'm sure that you're right about the burden she carries,” Coryn agreed, thoughtfully. “She has a whole world's weight on her shoulders, I have come to realize.”

  Then he grinned conspiratorially at the Guru.

  “I trust that you're helping her to ease, somewhat, the tensions involved, when you spend time visiting Ferhil Stones?”

  Guru Johannes shook his head at Coryn, but he smiled as he did so.

  “Trust an ex-professional to notice,” was all he said.

  **

  Coryn bid Guru Johannes and the Greencat goodbye in the ASC Port. The Space Station had a docking ring capable of handling the mega-transports, so there was no need for shuttles. Captain Wen was anxious to make up for the delay in Kordean space, so the disembarking passengers were sent off quickly, while other travellers boarded. The Guru and the Greencat were to transfer onto a smaller transport which would take them to the Federation planet closest to Altec III. From there, the Guru said, they would be picked up by a small, community-owned space vessel. He did not explain how he was communicating with the community, of which he had been the Spiritual Leader for a time, and Coryn did not press for details. With a dry inward chuckle he noted that he had become used to crediting certain individuals' ESP powers.

  While still aboard the mega-transport, Coryn had been stopped by one of the ship's senior Security personnel who had had a query for him:

  “Captain Wen said that you might be able to enlighten us in Security,” she had said, requesting that he follow her into a crowded office lined with screens displaying the images that were sent there from security cameras.

  She had led him to a desk at the back, and had opened a locked drawer.

  “We took these from the The Orga
nization Hounds who complained about the air quality in their cabins,” she had said, laying three curious looking, half-egg-shaped, electronic implements on the desk top. “Any idea what they might be? Not bombs, I hope?”

  Coryn had shaken his head.

  “Not bombs,” he had replied. “Amarto-dectectors. Send them to the Institute of Kordean Studies, on Kordea,” he had added. “They have the expertise to deal with them.”

  “The Institute of Kordean Studies?” the Security Officer had queried. “That's a new one on me. Never heard of it.”

  “You will, soon enough,” Coryn had answered, smiling. “It's run by a Terran scientific genius by the name of Jaime Morrow, in cooperation with the Circle of the Twelve, the largest of the Kordean Witch Circles. We at the Kordean-Confederation Liaison are expecting great things from it.”

  “I thought that the Kordean Witches looked down their noses at us technological Terrans,” the Security Officer had objected.

  “That was before Jaime helped them to foil the Lina-trap.”

  “Ah. That was big news—even we, cocooned as we are on this ship, heard about it. A weird moon which should not be where it is, but which makes half-way normal life possible on Kordea, that's Lina. And The Organization had got some kind of a hold on it, and were going to threaten the whole planet by letting the moon either fly off into space, or crash to ground. But their plan was ruined—I never quite understood the explanation of how it was done.”

  “You are actually quite well-informed,” Coryn had said. “And to be honest, I don't understand how it was done, either. But the Witches understand, and so does Jaime, and that's what counts.”

  During that office visit he had succeeded in charming himself a look at the passenger lists, and had determined that Evil Evella and her Elite cronies were scheduled to continue on the mega-transport to the stop after the Station ASC. He had not found that reassuring, however. Basically, it just meant that they had paid their way to the Port next past ASC. There was nothing to stop them from cancelling the last leg at the last minute, and getting off at ASC.

  He had spent a few moments pondering about the fact that the three Elites had not had amarto-detectors in their possession, although they had had the two amartos, apparently obtained by some questionable tactics on Kordea. Perhaps it was beneath the dignity of the Elites to scrabble for the Stones, or for those who made use of them? Maybe the practicalities of that sort of work were always left to the Hounds—how had Evella got her hands on the amartos which she had claimed were her baubles? It was a mystery which would have to be solved on Kordea—perhaps the Liaison Office was already looking into it.

  The Hounds who had helped the three Elites hold back the mega-transport were scheduled to leave the ship at ASC, he had discovered. A bit of further rooting among computer files had given him the information that the three of them were planning to board the same smaller liner which the Guru and the Greencat were taking to the edge of Confederation space. It made sense—assuming that they were on their way home. Altec III was in the borderlands between the Confederation and The Organization space. Presumably the Hounds could have a small ship stashed somewhere on the terminus planet, and could pick it up, and make their way back to where they had come from.

  Nevertheless, he did not much like it, and had warned Guru Johannes and the Greencat to be on their guard. The Guru had promised to do that.

  With the good-byes said, Coryn headed for the Agency Headquarters, to see Ry Marcues. For the first time in his life, he found himself traversing the Station walkways reluctantly. Every other time when he had had occasion to visit ASC, he had looked forward to the antiquated warrens of the Headquarters' hallways. His imagination had toyed with the might-have-been intrigues going on in the small offices, the plans perhaps birthed in the cozy boardrooms, and the clandestine science experiments which surely must have been going on in the laboratories at the back!

  The thought of the labs troubled him now. Why had there not been any studies done on amartos in those labs—or had there been, and it had been kept so quiet that he, in spite of having had charge of the amarto-angle, had never heard about it? Was that what Marcues wanted to talk about? And if not, was there a way for him to find out if something like that was, or had been, going on? As the Agent who had taken on the role of the Kordean-Confederation Liaison Officer, he needed to know if something like that had been done.

  Such thoughts made him feel better about heading to the Agency Headquarters. Perhaps he could make a demand or two of Marcues, not just listen and nod, and say “yes, sir” to whatever it was that the man would confront him with.

  **

  The woman checking the IDs of the arrivals at the Agency Headquarters was an Agent with whom Coryn had something of a past from his training days. She was an athletic blonde, and if Coryn had the gossip right, had, since he had gone to RES, married, and, later, divorced another Agent. The husband had been an older fellow who had been referred to—not as a compliment—as a “James Bond-type”. Now Lindy Cass was foot-loose, and, apparently, looking to hook up, at least judging by her flirtatious behaviour. Coryn allowed her to chat him up, hoping that, perhaps, she would drop a nugget of information or two, while he determined when Marcues would be available. But he did not need to consult the reception computer; Lindy informed him that he could go directly to the Head's private office; she would let Marcues know that he was in the building, and on his way.

  “Don't tell me that he has nothing better to do than to wait for me,” Coryn said, keeping his tone light.

  “Oh, he's been calling down every few minutes since the mega-transport arrived in Port,” Lindy sniffed. “What's made you so important? Can we get together tonight, and talk about it?”

  “We can have dinner, if you want to catch up on stuff,” he suggested, gifting her with a disarming smile. “That's all, though. I'm in a relationship.”

  “Oh, it's true, then.” she sounded slightly wistful. “Someone mentioned that you had hooked up with one of those Witchy Kordean women, a major talent, no less.”

  “What? Has Jill Ashton been burning up the communication channels?” he asked. “She thinks Sarah's the best thing I ever lucked into! So does Fiana Marsh, for that matter!”

  “Sounds like I'll have to join the crowd of your platonic female friends, Coryn,” Lindy said with a sigh. “Oh well, I guess I've only myself to blame for not snagging you when we both were young, and you were keen on me. I was a fool, and looking for someone more glamourous than the pretty blond boy.”

  “I gather you found something like that,” Coryn commented.

  “Did I ever.” Lindy shook her head. “I wish I hadn't.

  “But I'll take you up on the dinner. It'll be fun to compare notes. Always assuming that Marcues isn't sending you off somewhere via the next passing transport.”

  Hm. Lindy's parting shot sounded ominous, Coryn thought, as he took the nearest staircase (two steps at a time) up to the third, and highest, floor of the Headquarters. Marcues had what passed for a corner office on a space station, the only workspace in the place to be bigger than was absolutely essential. ASC was an old Space Station, one of the first to have been built by the upstart race from the planet Earth, and it had been arranged economically, at a time when funds had been tight. It had had another ring added to it later, but the Agency Offices were in the old section, and Coryn rather liked the well-worn atmosphere.

  He disagreed with the Agents who wanted to move the Headquarters to the planet Mallora, or to Janus, or Atlantis. Nice planets all of them, although Mallora was a hotbed of intrigue, but Space Station ASC was where the Agency Headquarters had always been, and he believed that history ought to trump slickness.

  **

  The first item that Marcues brought up was Coryn's relationship with Sarah. The Head of The Agency seemed to have decided that the connection contravened some obscure Agency rule—he could not come up with it, even though Coryn asked him, point blank, to cite it. There were problem
s with the liaison, of course, Coryn was fully aware of that, but his understanding was that they had to do with the peculiar position he had ended up in, in regards to Sarah, when he had taken on the role of the Kordean-Confederation Liaison Officer, and had nothing to do with The Agency.

  Sarah's strong Stone-sensitivity, and her psychic tie to the cache of amartos which she had inadvertently keyed, made her a person of interest to three groups: the Witches of Kordea, the Terran Confederation Government, and The Organization. The Organization wanted to abduct her, to grab the Stones keyed to her, and to take them to their part of the Galaxy, there to enslave her, and force her to further the Neotsarian dream of controlling the whole inhabited Galaxy. The Kordean Witches, and the Terrans of the Confederation were out to keep that from happening. The Organization, if it could control even a single very talented amarto-sensitive through the technology that they seemed to have either acquired, or developed, would be a very dangerous enemy, indeed. Thus Sarah had been deemed a ward, jointly, of the Kordean Witches, and of the Terra Confederation. The arrangement was for her own safety, as well as the security of the galactic civilization. The Kordean Witch Circle of the Twelve, and, on the Confederation side, the Kordean-Confederation Liaison Officer were the ones responsible for keeping the young woman and the amarto-cache from Neotsarian hands. Coryn, therefore, was in what was termed an “enhanced fiduciary position” in regards to Sarah—together with the Witch Marlyss, the Eldest of the Circle of the Twelve.

  The Circle Witches had in no way objected to the relationship between Sarah and Coryn; if anything, Witch Marlyss had been pleased to facilitate it. Until now, no-one in the Confederation Government Circles had raised an eyebrow, either. Coryn suspected that, shrewdly enough, those in the know simply assumed that his engagement to Sarah made it that much more likely that he would go out of his way to protect the young woman.

  He had done all that he could, on that front.

  As long as the Witch Circles ruled Kordea, Sarah was safe at Ferhil Stones, the Stronghold of the Circle of the Twelve, where she was learning to use her talent. During her stays at the Official Residence of the Chief Liaison Officer, Coryn had kept guards around her at all times. Some of them had been Liaison Office staff; others had been members of the Port Security. All of them were fanatical about keeping her protected from the Hounds that The Organization sent to Trahea to try to scoop up Stone-sensitives, chiefly Sarah with her powerful talent.