Chapter Seventeen
The Sirona visit had managed to upset him, but no, at last, Valdor was ready to act. His original plan had failed and failure didn't sit easily with him. This time, he was determined, failure was not on the agenda. He had a week to play with; not very long in the scheme of things, but it might be enough to accomplish what he needed. He knew he could pretend to play along with them for only so long, so he had to be sure he had the backup he needed. The major problem was how he was going to get the core sets offworld without Sirona intervention.
He could always send a number of couriers in the hope that one or two would get through, but he needed to keep the operation low profile and that wasn't the way to do it. No, the best way was to find a single guaranteed method and hope that Sirona attention was elsewhere when he set it in place. He might have bought himself enough room to move with the last meeting but, after that week was up ....
If he wanted to get something offworld, then the clearest point to start was the portside region of New Helvetica. He couldn't trust any of his own couriers. He had no idea how many the Sirona had already tagged. What he needed was new blood. Any number of freebooter types looking for employment populated the portside bars. Most didn't really care what side of the authorities their work took them, as long as it paid, and that suited Valdor just fine. It virtually guaranteed the required discretion. With his contacts, finding someone shouldn't be too hard. Marina's would make the ideal base to work from.
He made ready and left his place, informing Milnus before he left that he could be contacted on his private com.
He arrived at Marina's and breezed past the girl on reception. She made to stop him, but then recognised him from last time, gave a slight sneer and returned to her reading. Marina answered the door almost immediately. She looked at the bag he carried and ushered him inside.
"So, what is it, lover? Why the bag?"
"I need to ask you another favour, Marina," he told her. "It's a little bigger than last time. Things have taken a turn and I need to stay out of the picture for a while. You know what's happening and I didn't think you'd mind. I thought of you immediately."
"Come on, sit down and tell me what's happened. Of course, you can stay here. You have no real need to ask, lover. Do you think it will be for long?"
Valdor dumped his bag, sat, and ran his fingers back through his hair. "Not too long, I hope," he said with a sigh. "It should be no more than a week."
"Fine, fine," she said, taking a seat opposite him. "You know that. Everything you see is at your disposal." She waved her hand dismissively. Now, lover, fill me in on what's been going on."
Valdor told her about the second Sirona visit and that he was involved in a business deal that they had interest in. He neglected to fill in the details, merely indicating that he needed a secure base of operations until he had completed his side of the deal. She seemed to accept it, and he sat back feeling a little more relaxed. He knew he could rely on Marina to keep things quiet. Milnus knew where to contact him if anything came up, so he could get on with what he needed to do in relative confidence.
The next evening Valdor made ready to start cruising the bars. It wasn't too far from Marina's place and that made it all the easier. The first thing he did was tone down his image. He knew the clothes he wore and the manner in which he carried himself didn't typify the usual customers frequenting many of the watering holes he planned to visit, so he made do with plain black coveralls and a pair of eyeshades. He dispensed with the cloak and his boots, and substituted a pair of ordinary canvas utility shoes for the latter. When he was done, he surveyed himself in the mirror.
The whole ensemble made him appear regular enough. He should be reasonably at home in any one of the dockhand crowds, blending in, but not identifying himself as attached to a particular service. As an afterthought, he tied back his hair. Dockworkers never wore theirs out. It was too dangerous. There was always something it could get caught in.
He had been careful to maintain contacts among the portside bar staff over the years. From time to time they had their uses. Never sever a relationship that could turn a profit — Valdor had learnt that one long ago. He got in touch with those that he thought he could trust most out of an untrustworthy lot and had them spread the word that there was a contract on offer. Simple job, paid well, but had to be discreet. Having set the wheels in motion, he left to find a convenient location.
Valdor sat back in one of the more relaxed establishments for the bait to drew them in. The information network portside was undeniably good and he didn't have long to wait for initial contact.
The first prospect that approached him he rejected almost immediately. The man smelled and it was not only the liquor that made him sway on his feet and slur his words. Valdor wanted discretion and steadiness, neither of which the man would have provided.
The second appeared somewhat better. He was basically a mercenary and had tracked Valdor down through directions given by another of his contacts. The first had been directed over by the barman, but this one asked for no directions, just walked straight up, and sat down. He was sharp.
Valdor talked to him for a number of minutes and was impressed by the man's self-confidence. He seemed to know what he was about and was probably the sort that he could use for the job. Though he seemed competent enough, he finally turned out to be far too inquisitive. He wanted to know where and who and what for and Valdor was having none of it. He sent him on his way and the next hour was spent idly watching the crowds as he waited.
At last his patience was rewarded by the appearance of another potential candidate. The woman seemed capable and didn't ask too many questions. She was the rough and ready type and seemed as if she could look after herself. He was almost on the verge of giving her a try when the barman caught his eye with a slight toss of his head and a meaningful lift of the eyebrow. Very subtly his man behind the bar shook his head deliberately from side to side. That was enough for Valdor. It was one reason he had chosen this particular bar for his interviewing. The landlord not only had many contacts, but he knew a lot more about most of the local inhabitants than they realised. Valdor felt he could trust the barman's judgement without question. So, the third joined the first two and went on her way.
After she left, Valdor caught the barman's eye and gave him a querying frown and slight shake of his head. The man simply pursed his lips, shook his head, and shrugged. Well, there were clearly reasons. He really didn't need any further explanation, but he was curious all the same.
The crowds came and went, and so did the potential applicants. By the end of the first night Valdor still hadn't found anyone suitable. He was conscious that he now had less than a week and he felt the sense of urgency begin to grow.
The second afternoon began as the previous night ended. The applicants were fewer, and he rejected more than one by dint of a simple gut feeling or a spurious look from his ally behind the bar. More than one was Council and that was not a good sign. Either that, or they had links to certain parts of the dockside organisations that he wanted no involvement in for the moment, so the field was narrowing steadily. He was beginning to wonder if he was going to have any luck at all. It looked like he was going to have to explore other avenues.
He did have other contacts but in the time remaining he had less of a choice. He'd been out of touch with the right channels for too long. There was another lesson to be learnt here. Always keep his own hand in; never do everything by proxy.
Sighing and getting to his feet, he cast a glance of appreciation toward the barman, shrugged his shoulders and made his way outside into the night air.
He chewed over his options as he wandered through the neon- slicked streets. The hour was rapidly approaching where he had to make the decision that he'd been avoiding. Inside he had been denying it, but he knew he would have to use Marina's contacts again. He just hoped that this time she was in a position to help. He could use the nets, but they were too open and so ceased to be an
option. His experiences with the Sirona had taught him that much. He was going to end up owing Marina, and owing her big. He was sure he could trust her, but it still made him uncomfortable. He wandered through the corridors of glowing holos barely registering his surrounds, lost in thoughts of what he needed to do.
Before he knew it, he was in the narrow side street, the red of Marina's sign flashing like an alarm above his problems. Shoving his way through the chime bead curtain he walked past the desk, ignoring the girl who sat behind it. She paid him just as little attention, his gaunt figure having become a familiar sight over the last couple of days. He took the stairs two at a time, strode up the corridor and palmed the door to Marina's apartments. She had keyed the lock to respond to his palm as well as hers on the first night he arrived.
Valdor saw with relief that Marina was already there, reclining, surrounded by a diaphanous gown, and sipping delicately at a long, tall glass. She peered over the rim as he strode through the door.
"Welcome home, lover. You look a little flustered. Where have you been — anywhere interesting?" she asked sweetly.
"Not enough time to go into that, Marina," Valdor said and sighed in reply. "You're right though. Things aren't working out exactly as they should be."
"Now, Valdor dear, just tell Marina and she'll see what we can do. Hmm?"
Sometimes Marina had the skill of making him feel like a small child without really trying. He moved over and sank into the couch as she patted the space beside her, rings catching the light with the movement of her hand.
"Well Marina, you know the spot of difficulty I've been having?" he asked, waiting until she nodded in reply. "I'm afraid it's a little more complex than I'd led you to believe."
"Hmm, I see," she answered, thoughtfully. "I might have guessed as much. Perhaps you should fill me in with all of the gory details."
She flicked back the tresses of her hair with one hand before fixing him with a clear gaze and waiting for him to explain.
"I don't know. I've got myself tied up in this business with the Sirona. They want something from me that is the result of one of my latest ventures and, well, I don't exactly want to give it to them. Well, no, that's not quite true. I want to look as if I'm giving it to them, but I want to do so without actually giving it to them."
"Valdor, lover, I think you'd better slow down. You're not making a lot of sense. What exactly is it that they want?"
"Yes, all right," he said with just a hint of reluctance. "This latest company venture of mine has come up with a certain product. It doesn't matter what it is for the moment. That is unimportant and it doesn't influence the position in any way. Let's just say that I believe it's going to be very significant. I have no idea just how significant yet, but for the Sirona to be interested .... The thing is, I don't exactly know why. Anyway, they have an interest in the operation. To the extent that they want me to stop production. Put the operation away for good. I've worked too long and hard on this one, Marina, and I'm damned if I'm going to concede just like that to those poisonous little dwarves."
"All right then, so what's the problem? You have what they want. You don't want to give it to them. Then don't."
"I know. It all sounds so easy, but I'm afraid it's not as simple as all that. They've second-guessed every move I've made since I first had contact with them. They are inside my network, Marina, and I don't know where and I don't know how. I used to think I had one of the most secure operations around, but they've managed to side-step everything that is there. By itself, that's worrying enough, but I'm just not sure how far they're prepared to go. So, anyway, I set up a bit of insurance for myself. I've arranged to get a sample of the product offworld to somewhere I can be assured it will be safe for a time. If they managed to close me down on New Helvetica, I'd be able to move the operation and take it up again. As it stands, they know far too much, and I don't know enough about them to have the confidence to leave myself unprotected. You can see the sense in that, can't you?"
"Well so far, my dear, it all sounds as if you could handle it with your eyes shut."
"Yes well ... that was what I thought. That was until they took out my courier, Marina. I issued the instructions direct to Milnus and got him to organise it. They knew what was going on and they still took out the courier. Not a hint of how they did it. I don't know how they knew, but they did. And I can be damned sure it was not through Milnus. The only option I have left, is to arrange it myself. That was what I've been trying to do. The thing is, I just don't know the ropes anymore. I've been out of touch for too long, always relying on someone else to do the detailed work for me. I've a few contacts left, but for the last couple of years Milnus has been handling most of the things at that level."
"So, lover, what you need was someone to get your package off New Helvetica discretely without involving anyone in your own network. Am I right?"
"Yes, basically. The rest of the details I can sort out later. That's not a problem. I have some ideas but I'd just like to have the feeling that I've covered my back if any of it goes wrong."
"Well, why don't you sit back and let Marina sort something out for you, Valdor my dear. You really are a bad boy you know — not letting me know all of this sooner," she said and patted him on the cheek.
She placed her drink on the small table beside the sofa then stood and with her hands on her hips looked down at him, shaking her head.
"I don't know, Valdor Carr. You've always needed to do things on your own, haven't you? Well for once in your life you're going to have to swallow that pride of yours and let someone else take a hand. Now, you just sit there and relax while I go and see what I can come up with. We'll think of this as a favour owed, shall we?"
Tossing back her hair she turned and walked out of the room still shaking her head but smiling as she left.
Valdor sat where he was, as Marina instructed. He had a lot to mull over as he waited and he spent the time toying with options. Carr Holdings had interests in a lot of areas that he didn't really want to make public and in that respect, he was vulnerable. The Sirona knew far too much about what he was doing and what he was involved in. On the face of it, they probably had enough inside information to shut him down publicly and that was not good. Of course, he could come out with a public accusation of interference, but he was sure quite a few of his own dealings would became casualties as a result. He doubted that escalation to the level of the Council would do much to further his cause. He was, after all, not the CoCee's most favourite son.
The other thing that was clear was that he didn't want to become involved in a war of attrition with the Sirona. They had resources at their disposal that would made things very difficult, if not outright dangerous for Carr Holdings and for him personally. The best option was to hedge his bets, play both sides of the game. If, on the surface, he seemed to be playing along with them, he could make out of it. Meanwhile, if he could use Marina to get the sample offworld, and carefully, arrange for some of the technical expertise to follow it, he had places where he could keep the operation going fairly quietly. That way, he should be able to benefit from both sides of the deal. When the time was right he could sweep those little aliens off the board. The question was how. He had to think. He was chewing his lip thoughtfully when Marina reappeared.
"Well, my dear, I've been considering a few options. I've just been checking out the port list. There are some ships in, registered as free, seeking cargo. Most are chain owned, and I'm not sure that is exactly what we want. Too many procedures. Now, one or two possibilities present themselves among the rest. A couple I know. I'm not sure whether I'd be confidant about their ability to get a job done. But...."
She let the last word hang, clearly waiting for him to bite.
"But what, Marina?" he asked obligingly.
"Well, it might be a long shot, but there is one particular ship there that might fit the bill. It's owned by someone I used to know a long time ago. I think it might just be worthwhile renewing old acquai
ntances. What do you think? Mind you, the man was never a fool, Valdor. He'd have to be approached very carefully."
"So, tell me what you think. What's your gut feeling?"
"I think he may be worth a try, lover. And ... it would be good to see the old reprobate again," she said.
The tone in her voice told Valdor there may have been a little more than mere acquaintance there. He was surprised to feel just a slight twinge of jealousy.
"Fine. I'll trust your judgement, Marina. Set it up," he said.
Chapter Eighteen
Timon registered them as soon as was practical after landing. There were matters to attend to with the ship beforehand, but as soon as they were out of the way he got The Dark Falcon on the boards. The ship had been sitting in port merely a day when the message came in. Neither Timon nor Jayeer had expected a response so rapidly.
Several ships were in port at the moment, and many far more likely to attract a decent sized cargo. The registration was merely to cover their options while they looked around. There was always someone on New Helvetica looking for a small fast ship to take someone or something offworld and out of the system in a hurry. Knowing the course of their luck up to now, it was just as likely to offer them an assignment back to Belshore.
Timon scanned the contents as it scribed across the com, read it, and re-read it, shaking his head as he stroked his moustache.
"Who would have thought it?" he said to no one in particular. "Marina Samaris. Now there's a name from the past. I wonder what she wants with old Timon."
The message was a personal invitation to dinner at one of the more celebrated eating houses on New Helvetica.
"Well, Mez Samaris is certainly moving in interesting circles these days by the look of things. You never know, this may be exactly what we're looking for. Marina was never one to came right out and ask for what she wanted. I think it's just too much of a coincidence that she should invite me after so long, just when we happen to be for hire. Time to revisit the past I think," he said thoughtfully, and rapidly keyed a response. "Now, I hope you two can amuse yourselves this evening. It could turn out to be a long night."
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