by Ian Whates
But the person those words were really meant for had already left.
Kethi didn't like having the ship idle for so long. Fortunately there was plenty to keep the crew busy. Repairs were always easiest when the ship was in dock, but they didn't have that luxury. After the destruction of the habitat and the recent ambush it was clear that their network had been compromised. She had no idea how extensively, but she wasn't about to risk another stop to pick up intel, or even to find proper docking facilities. Instead, she simply parked the ship in deep space and assigned everyone who could be spared to ensure the patched up repairs they'd put in place after the ambush were as robust as possible, which meant replacing some parts and reinforcing others.
One thing an upbringing in the habitat gave you was a familiarity with zero g, leaving her with no shortage of personnel to deploy outside the hull as well as within. The added risks of EVA work brought their own headaches, but fortunately there had been no reports of serious mishaps to date.
Filling her own time was no problem whatsoever. When not with Leyton in the privacy of their quarters or monitoring the progress of the repairs, she could be found sifting through the information they had received, of which there was a considerable amount. The fact that they wouldn't be getting any more for a while made her all the more determined to wring every useful scrap and nuance from what they did have. Nor did her efforts to understand what was going on within ULAW end once the screens were off. She questioned Leyton remorselessly. She felt obliged to. After all, he was the only resource available with any insight into how the government functioned. Though, as he pointed out to her, the eyegees were hardly part of the regular ULAW structure. He seemed to take her interrogations with stoic amusement, and they even became part of their lovemaking, with her teasing him by refusing to perform a given act unless he produced an answer she was satisfied with. The manner in which he accepted her obsessive questioning, without any sign of rancour, went a long way to reassuring her that she meant more to him than simply a rebound fuck.
By the time Kyle produced his miracle with the energy veils, she had pretty much exhausted the potential of the available info and was feeling increasingly frustrated. She'd learnt a lot, and could intuit a great deal more. There was a pattern emerging, but it wasn't complete, and there weren't sufficient clues for her to fill in the remaining blanks. One more parcel of intelligence might have given her the missing pieces, and she was tempted to reverse her previous decision by mounting a snatch and grab rendezvous with one of the beacons. However, she didn't underestimate the dangers in doing so. It was a real quandary, and one which she decided to discuss with Leyton as they lay in bed.
He listened patiently before saying, "You know, yours isn't the only network available to us."
"What do you mean?"
"I have contacts and snitches all over the place, people I've used for information gathering, equipment sourcing, local knowledge."
She sat up and stared down at him, but the sudden hope disappeared as quickly as it had formed. "A nice idea, but it's no good," she said. "ULAW must be aware of all those contacts from your mission reports. They're as compromised as our own network."
"Maybe, but the difference is we're talking about living, breathing people here, not impersonal beacons floating in the depths of space. People I know, most of whom I'd avoid like the plague right now, granted, but there are one or two."
"Who?" she demanded. "Who out of all of them would you trust the most?"
After a moment's pause he said, "Billy. If I had to, I'd trust Billy."
Chapter Eighteen
They took a shuttle in under a false name and with false registration details, though in the event they probably needn't have bothered. Security at the port was all but non-existent. Kethi plugged into the local net at the first opportunity, even before they had landed. She uncovered a welter of conjecture, debate and information about the Byrzaens, enough to keep her occupied for hours. This seemed safe enough to Leyton. After all, there must be millions of people on the planet curious about the aliens. It would be a logistical nightmare to monitor and check up on all those conducting searches on the Byrzaens.
She also tracked down a few conspiracy theory sites, which had plenty to say about the aliens and their relationship with the ULAW government. This struck Leyton as a little riskier, but Kethi insisted it was necessary and that she was being careful. In fairness, if this were to trigger a flag it was likely to be a low level one, and they intended to be long gone before anyone had a chance to follow up.
Billy was one of Leyton's most reliable contacts and also among the more amiable. The former eyegee had never needed to intimidate Billy, their relationship conducted on a comparatively civilised basis of mutual respect and understanding. He also had a more flexible working environment than most, which made approaching him less of a risk. Any form of premeditated trap would require a lot of coordination, manpower and resources. Billy worked the city's pubs, clubs and bars; a dozen of them, at any rate. All different, all popular, all noisy enough to make conversations difficult to overhear, with exits that were easily accessible.
Leyton opted for Flappers, a bustling midtown retro bar which claimed to emulate a bygone age from old Earth. As far as Leyton's cursory examination could determine, it actually drew inspiration from several bygone ages, but he wasn't about to quibble.
"Ready?" he asked the two ladies.
"Won't be a minute," Kethi replied. "I've just got to change."
He stared at her. "You brought a change of clothes?"
She grinned. "Well, a girl has to be prepared." So saying, Kethi slipped away to the back of the shuttle.
Leyton stared at Joss, who shook her head and shrugged. He considered his own clothes, which were typical of the sort of thing he tended to wear when casual: comfortable trousers, a leather belt with various slit-pouches in which all sorts of useful things could be carried, a shirt that was loose enough not to restrict movement, and a similarly comfortable jacket worn primarily to conceal his gun. Joss looked much as Joss always looked: hair slightly spiked, patterned short-sleeved top - blue and white - narrow belt and dark blue trousers with black flat-heeled shoes.
Then there was Kethi, who came forward again to join them a surprisingly short while later.
She had added a touch of makeup - something she rarely bothered with on duty. It was subtle but effective, emphasising her high cheekbones and spectacular eyes while not looking incongruous against her naturally pale complexion. She wore her hair down, tumbling around her shoulders in long dark tresses. Her top was sleeveless and figure-hugging, her skirt short and beautifully tailored, making the most of her legs, which Leyton knew she regarded as her best feature. Put simply, she looked stunning.
It struck Leyton that here was a woman dressed to kill, who didn't want to look as if she were dressed to kill.
He summed all this up by saying, "You look nice."
Her answering smile suggested that she already knew as much, but was pleased that he'd at least noticed.
"Wow!" Joss said. "Have I got time to nip out and buy a new outfit?"
"How do you want to play this?" Kethi asked as they approached Flappers.
"Split up, work the room separately and find out what we can," Leyton replied, "I'll hang by the bar until Billy shows up. Is that okay with you, Joss?"
"Fine."
"The important thing is that we keep this low key. We go in, mingle, find out what we can, make contact with Billy and then leave, without anybody even noticing we were there," Leyton said. Kethi and Joss both nodded. "One thing that concerns me," he added, "is money." Something he should have considered before this. "If Billy does have anything for us, he'll want paying for it." They all had a bit of ULAW currency for buying drinks, but nothing significant. "We're going to have to get hold of some cash, and somehow I don't think it's a good idea to call on my own credit lines."
"Leave that to me," Kethi said, with an enigmatic smile.
Leyton would have liked to quiz her on that a bit, but they'd arrived at the twin dark wooden doors with the word 'Flappers' emblazoned in white flowing script on their glass panes. He pushed one of the doors open and held it as Kethi and Joss entered.
Inside, everything was much as he remembered. A gently curving bar of polished rosewood dominated the far side of the room, in front of which stood padded seats that more resembled long-legged chairs than barstools. The staff wore uniforms of white trousers, checked shirts and red neckerchiefs. One was in the process of mixing a cocktail, which naturally became a performance, as he flipped a bottle from behind his back and caught it with a flourish, before pouring out a stream of amber liquid.
The place was already busy, with more than half the tables scattered across the polished wooden floor occupied. At one of them, a card game was underway. Beams criss-crossed the vaulted ceiling; they had to be cosmetic, while Leyton knew that the old upright piano which stood against one wall wasn't entirely. It looked acoustic, authentic, though of course it might have been designed that way. Leyton had heard it played on occasion, though he couldn't recall much beyond the fact. Elsewhere, framed photographs of dour looking women in fulsome skirts and men with outlandish hats and heavy moustaches adorned the wood-panelled walls. These glass-fronted images were flat, two dimensional, and completely immobile, adding to the establishment's retro feel.
Several long-legged, ever-smiling women minced between the tables, flirting with the patrons; all bobbed or tight-curled hair, glossy lipstick smiles, feather boas, pearl necklaces, and patent leather high-heeled shoes. The infamous Flappers' Slappers. They were there for decoration, to encourage the punters to relax, have a good time, and buy more drinks. The girls would even offer to fetch from the bar if needed. Towards the end of a really busy night these girls might be persuaded, with sufficient financial inducement, to take off their shoes and perform a high-kicking, skirt-waving dance on the bar top, accompanied by one of the check-shirted staff on the piano.
Leyton expected and sincerely hoped that their party would be long gone before that particular spectacle became a possibility.
As he had suggested, they separated once through the door. Kethi went to sit at one end of the bar and soon drew the attention of several male admirers, who set about vying with each other to see who could buy her the most expensive drink. Joss gravitated towards a rowdy group of spacers occupying a far corner of the room. She was soon laughing with them and swapping anecdotes.
Leyton fell into conversation with a pair of office workers, one male and one female, who were both several drinks ahead of him. Unfortunately, they were too intent on comparing notes regarding their various sexual conquests to discuss much else. The man was bisexual, which added a certain spice to the burgeoning rivalry, as each tried to out-shock the other, but Leyton realised he'd learn nothing here and began looking for a chance to extricate himself almost immediately.
"You mustn't breathe a word," the man said, drawing both Leyton and the woman, Gail, closer into a huddle, "but you know Martin in accounts and his wife, Sian, in exports? Lovely couple," he added for Leyton's benefit. "She's got fabulous tits. Well, anyway, for the last couple of months I've been screwing both of them without the other having a clue!"
"You've never!" Gail said, with a look that said she was scandalised and loving it.
Leyton made his excuses and stood up, certain they wouldn't even notice him go. He suddenly realised that Kethi was no longer at the opposite end of the bar. He looked around and saw her at a table with three men. She'd joined the card game. Kethi played cards? There seemed to be money involved, and Leyton sincerely hoped Kethi knew what she was doing. One of her admirers was still hanging around at her shoulder; the others had clearly recognised they were wasting their time and given up.
"Oh, I've had him!" said a familiar male voice from behind Leyton as he moved away from the bar to observe the game.
He'd never actually seen real playing cards before, and watched, fascinated, as the dealer sent the wafer thin boards of layered polymer skidding across the table top, to land in front of each player in turn. The back of the cards bore a uniform design of interwoven strands, with a starburst at the centre, all depicted in a monotone washed-out red. He wondered if there was any significance to the motif, whether it might be a copy of a classic design or some such.
Since one of the reasons for their being in the bar was to talk to people, he asked the man standing beside him, who proved to be a bit of an authority on the subject.
"Sort of," the fellow explained. "The designs on the backs of playing cards used to be unique to each manufacturer, you know. These days you just take your pick from a selection of standard templates, but the templates themselves are based on classic designs. So, in a sense, this one is significant. Don't ask me which manufacturer the deck is based on, though. I'm not that old."
Leyton drifted back to the bar, bought another drink and chatted to the young man who served him. Finally, here was someone full of curiosity about the Byrzaens, though he had nothing new to offer on the subject. The fellow who then came up to join them partway through did, though Leyton rather wished he hadn't.
"I know for a fact," said the man - tall, in his fifties, his complexion sallow and his face framed by ginger stubble peppered with grey - "that these Byrzaens don't exist. They've been manufactured by the government."
The barman chuckled. "How do you know this then, Burt?"
"Friend of mine helped design 'em," he explained. "The spaceships, everything. All very hush-hush."
Leyton couldn't resist. "So what are the government hoping to gain by inventing these aliens?"
Burt lifted a grubby finger and tapped the side of his nose. "Just you wait and see."
Leyton left Burt and the barman to it and wandered back to the card game. He wasn't the only one watching. Quite a crowd had begun to gather around the four players. He noted too that Kethi's modest stake had grown considerably since he was last here.
Once he took the trouble to stand still for a while and observe her at work he began to see why. Not only could Kethi play cards, she was either an expert or a hell of a quick learner. She didn't win every hand, but she did win more than her share, including nearly all the ones that mattered, while ducking out of those she couldn't win early enough to avoid getting burned. Slowly but surely, her winnings accumulated, while the funds of her opponents dwindled accordingly, in a form of skewed osmosis which seemed to dictate that funds should flow inexorably towards the greatest concentration of cash rather than away from it.
Joss came over to join the growing crowd, standing at Leyton's elbow. After a few hands she said, too quietly for anyone except Leyton to hear, "Isn't this a little unfair?"
He was momentarily startled by the comment, which suggested that Joss knew about Kethi being different. He caught his surprise almost as it was forming and strangled it. Of course she knew. Kethi's nature was apparently common knowledge among the habitat, and Joss had been with them a lot longer than he had.
"Not really," he replied. "Anyone who goes into a game like this has the odds stacked for or against them courtesy of their own speed of thought, their memory for the cards, their understanding of the odds and other factors involved, not to mention their ability to think clearly under pressure. Kethi just has a bit more going for her than most."
"You can say that again."
The stakes and intensity crept upwards and the game became the focus of the room, sucking in attention as a sponge draws in water. Conversations slowly died away, surviving only as murmurs in the farthest corners.
Naturally it was only once the tension reached this sort of peak that Leyton saw the figure he'd been waiting for saunter in through the door. He left Joss watching the cards and strolled back to the bar, ordering a further drink without looking at the short, solidly built man who eased onto the stool beside him.
"You're taking a heck of a chance coming here, aren't you?" said a high pitched, nasal
ly voice which at the same time managed to sound gravelly, as if the speaker was forever on the verge of a coughing fit.
"Life's one big risk, Billy," Leyton replied, "you know that."
"Had some hard-assed woman leaning on me a while back, government type, wanting to know everything about you. I'm supposed to call a certain number if I ever see you again."
"Nice to know I'm so popular."
"I won't be calling, of course. Lost the number."
"Shame."
As the barman presented Leyton with his beer, the former eyegee ordered a double Rellian brandy.
"Ah," said Billy, sniffing the golden brown liquid appreciatively before lifting the glass in salute. "I'm touched that you remembered."
"How could I forget? You're the only bastard I know who can drink the stuff without your eyes watering."
"Helps soothe my throat." Billy said. He watched until the barman was busy serving someone else. "Now, what can I do you for?"
"Information; anything you've heard about the Byrzaens, ULAW, that sort of thing."
"Ha! Are you sure you want anything? 'Cos that'll take a week, what with all the crazy talk flying around at the moment."
"Thanks, but I've heard more than enough of that already. Cut the wildest stuff and what are we left with?"
"Not much. Perhaps if you told me exactly what you're after?"
Leyton paused, wondering how much to trust Billy with. Eventually, he said, "Let's just say that any hint, rumour or speculation about the Byrzaens being around prior to New Paris would be particularly welcome."
"Ah, really? Interesting." He looked at Leyton, as if waiting for him to say more. Leyton didn't. So Billy continued, "Okay, yeah, I have heard the odd rumour. Come and find me tomorrow afternoon, at Jacey's. I'll see what I can dig up."
"Thank you." Leyton picked up his beer and went to step away from the bar.
"Ehm, aren't we forgetting something? I mean, I know it's been a while since we last saw each other, but I do still have overheads to meet."
