"I am not sure that we have," said Jamie. "No offense, Zhen Chi, but I don't think we could have gotten the simulant to talk before the evac deadline--and I don't think our Kendari friends would have wanted to bring it along to question on your ship after we left--and I don't think the Vixa would have allowed that anyway."
"It might be things aren't as bad as we think. Maybe our medical and investigative specialists can get more from a dead simulant than a live one," said Hannah. "We should examine it. And we should do it now--before anything else can happen."
"I shot it in the far corner of our compound," said Brox. "The body is still there."
"Ambassador Stabmacher?" Hannah asked. "Xenologist Flexdal? Permission granted?"
"Most certainly," said Flexdal.
"Make it fast," said Stabmacher. "But go get us what we need."
Brox stood guard, weapon in hand, ready if the corpse should suddenly come to life--not altogether unlikely, considering that the simulant was in large part robotic. Jamie set one video camera on a tripod to get an overall view of the scene, and moved in and around getting close-up views with a handheld camera. Remdex and Zhen Chi performed what amounted to a field dissection, emphasizing speed over precise technique. They all wore protective clothing, gloves, face masks, and eye protection. No telling what toxins or acids or solvents might come spewing out at any moment.
And they all watched the clock.
"I gotta say, that was some nice shooting, Brox," said Jamie, looking over the corpse. "I wasn't thinking. I went for the phony head. You went right for the thorax. Were you aiming for the braincase, or did you just get lucky?"
"A little of both," Brox said. "There was a lot of guessing involved as to where it would be on a Vixan body that was this severely modified, but apparently I guessed right. And I might add that I had the benefit of your experience to guide me--and I was not shooting in the midst of a near-riot situation. You did quite well yourself."
"Well, we're both still alive," said Jamie. "That must show something."
Remdex and Zhen Chi were working fast to strip off the false Kendari skin that hid the half creature, half machine underneath. It was a grisly job, but Zhen Chi seemed to be pursuing it with real enthusiasm and was gloating over every new tidbit of information they gleaned on the subject of how to build a simulant. It was startling to see how much of the simulant hadn't really been there at all, how much the creature inside had relied on artificial structure, how much of its interior was given over to electronics of one sort or another.
"Don't get too involved in detail work," Hannah warned. "We've got to hurry."
"I know, I know," said Zhen Chi. "But we might have another murder to deal with if Dr. Subramanian finds out we had a chance at these electronics boxes and didn't grab them." She looked over at Remdex. "I could cut out those two fast. One for you and one for me?"
"Our investigative technists would also be very interested. Yes, please."
Zhen Chi used a cutting laser and sliced the two boxes out of the corpse. Something arced and sparked as the beam sliced through a cable.
"Careful!" Jamie called out. "The simulant is dead, but there are still lots of live power sources."
"Now he tells us," said Zhen Chi, calmly extracting her prizes. She handed them to Remdex. "We'll split these up later," she said.
Hannah checked the time again and swore. "Zhen Chi! The digestive chamber!"
"All right, all right. We've been working toward it. We have to do this with at least some degree of order if we're going to make sense of it later." She stood well back from the half-dissected body. "I wanted to get some information about the rest of the body before I sliced that thing open. From what we can tell, there must be some hellacious acids in those chambers. The stuff might just slosh out and dissolve half of what's left of the body."
"Or us," said Jamie. "Everybody back, and watch out for fumes as well."
Zhen Chi adjusted the cutting laser. She lifted it to her shoulder like a rifle and sighted down its length. "A little off the top," she said, and fired. The beam lanced out and sizzled into the top of the chamber. The flesh twitched and drew back, either simply shriveling in the heat or through some sort of creepy postmortem reaction. Zhen Chi kept firing, moving the beam slowly across the top of the chamber. Suddenly a plume of greenish gas jetted up, and an unpleasantly familiar smell of rotting meat filled the air. A nasty-looking fluid dribbled out, and whatever it dripped onto immediately started fizzing and spitting.
Remdex was ready with a long pole with a hook on the end. He eased it into the hole Zhen Chi had cut, and pulled hard.
The digestive chamber came apart with a crack. Remdex reached in again with his pole--ignoring the plume of smoke rising from the pole itself--and pulled out what looked like a sealed package of some sort. He dragged it over away from the ruined body of the simulant. "Water," he said. "Clean it up."
Brox slung his weapon, trotted away, and came back moments later dragging a flexible hose behind him. A jet of water played on the package. Remdex made sure it had a good long soak, then used a surgical knife to slice it open.
Inside was a Kendari sidearm, the twin of the one Brox was carrying, along with two packs of ammunition for it.
"Well, they weren't done with us yet," said Jamie. "I wonder how many of us would have had Kendari bullets in our guts? How many would they have left alive? They'd need a few of us still around to investigate."
"Get some good shots of this, Jamie," said Hannah. "I think we have proof enough to make the ambassador happy."
Except, of course, that the ambassador was going to lose his embassy in another two hours. Even if they got out of this alive, it was possible that nothing would ever make him happy, ever again.
TWENTY-THREE
DEADLINE
They stripped off their protective clothing and left it all next to the eviscerated simulant corpse. No time left to clean anything up, and no point in dragging all over both compounds whatever acids or solvents or toxins that had splashed around. After a hurried discussion, it was agreed that the humans would take the protective package that had been around the Kendari sidearm, plus one pack of the ammo. The Kendari would take the gun itself, and a sample swatch of the material that made up the package. It took a few minutes they couldn't really spare to photograph everything in detail and get their prizes into evidence bags, but everyone was very aware of the clock, and they got it done in good time.
Brox escorted the humans back through the Kendari-side doors and into the joint ops center. Milkowski, Farrell, and Singh were all there, very obviously back on duty, very obviously frantically busy. Milkowski was bellowing in Lesser Trade to whoever was on the other side of the phone. The two younger agents were running through some sort of security checklist. Zhen Chi instantly made a beeline to the human-side doors. Hannah was about to follow her when Jamie pulled her to one side. "Listen," he said. "We might have a problem. I don't know if we will or not--but if we do, we have to decide what to do about it."
"Here? Now? Jamie, there's a lot to do before we get on that ship."
"That's the point, Hannah. I'm not so sure we're going to get on that ship."
Milkowski was on a new call, shouting in English, by the time they finished talking. "Yes!" he yelled. "For real. Right now. Yes, the whole embassy staff. No, ma'am. We're not in control, ma'am. If we were, we'd say yes to all the kids." He covered the phone and nodded to Hannah. "Hold it a sec!"
Milkowski listened at the phone, and rolled his eyes, and spoke again, his hand still covering the mike. "If we were in charge, we wouldn't have allowed anyone to bring kids to this madhouse in the first place. No, we're not endangering them. You took care of that when you brought them here." He took his hand off the mike and forced his voice into a more soothing tone. "Of course you do, ma'am. Yes. No, we can't. Because we can't. Believe me, the ambassador stretched every rule as hard as he could to swing the interns. Ma'am, my hand to God, we would take the younger kids if we co
uld. But if the Vixa board the ship once she's in space--which they have the right to do, and they have the firepower to back up the right--if they board, and find someone whose name isn't on the list--well, ma'am, that might cost the lives of everyone on board. We have no choice but to play by their rules. Ma'am. Ma'am! Please! I'm sorry. I have to go. The clock is running, and I have other people I must contact. It is your decision--but the ship can't wait. Have--damn, which name is this"--he checked a list on his desk--"Marlana--have Marlana at the pickup point in by 2050 hours--not a split second later. If she's there, we'll take her. If she's not--we won't wait. We can't. I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm sorry. I have to go. Good-bye."
He slammed down the receiver, cursing with rage and frustration. "Damn fool!" he shouted at the phone. "If you're so worried about your child's safety, don't bring her to a place that's likely to become a hostage-taker's swap meet." He looked up at Hannah. "Ambassador managed to get that Weldon kid on the evac list. She worked at the embassy as an intern, and somehow he got them to concede that was official status enough to qualify as 'all and only' embassy personnel--and then he stretched the point even harder, and got the other five kids who did intern work. Now I have three more idiot parents of smart kids to contact and explain the situation to them."
"What's the pickup point?" Hannah asked. "Is that job covered--or do you need us for it?"
"Zamprohna volunteered. The pickup point is back in the human residential compounds. He's the right man for the job. He knows the area, and he's got a vehicle. He's whacked-out politically--but, well you saw how he was about his own kid. He knows the way there and back. He'll do it right. But two things. One--thank you. You got me off the charge."
"No one got you off anything. You didn't do it," said Hannah.
"That wouldn't really matter to some agents I could mention. Including me, maybe. You played fair. So fair it hurt. So fair everyone's going to have faith in the result. No gossip. No speculation. Believe me, that helps a guy like me a lot. Second thing. This, ah, evac list. You two have got a situation. Go see the ambassador. Now. He's in the conference room."
"There's damned little I can do," said Stabmacher. "In fact, absolutely nothing. Less than nothing. I stretched the loopholes as far as I could to add the interns to the evac list. We physically have room for you on board the Kofi Annan. But you're not on the list. Officially speaking, you don't now and never have worked for the embassy. The Vixan I spoke with had a particular phrase that he kept using."
Jamie shut his eyes, and could see the words from his notepad, clear as day. "We agreed when we got here that we were 'controlled by a superior, external hierarchy.'"
"That's correct. In other words, the setup was that you weren't under me, so I couldn't interfere with your investigation. Quite proper. Correct procedure. But the Vixa are using it as their loophole. The Stanlarr and the Reqwar have both agreed to post observers in and around the human residential compound. That ought to be enough protection for run-of-the-mill civilians. At least I pray to God it is. But you two--"
Jamie swallowed hard and nodded. "We shot up one of their domes, probably humiliated the Preeminent Director, blasted two simulants into scrap metal and dead meat, then helped dissect a third sim--though they don't know about that last one yet. I think."
"An excellent summing-up," said the ambassador. "And I thank you for all of your service. But if you go aboard our ship, they will regard that as canceling all rights of passage. They'll declare us an enemy vessel. And their navy is quite good. They made it quite clear that if I pushed any harder for you to come along, they'd cancel the clearance for the interns--and maybe for the whole embassy staff. They're playing rough." The ambassador looked exhausted, half-slumped-over in his seat, the table in front of him buried in a chaos of papers and datapads. But he made the effort to sit up straighter, and look them both in the eye. "I said there's nothing I can do. But that's not true. I can break the rules. This embassy owes you. The human race owes you. So to hell with the Vixa. We take you along and smuggle you past their searches, somehow. No pack of murderous thugs can tell me to leave the two of you behind."
"No, sir," said Hannah. "But we can tell you that. And we are. Jamie--Special Agent Mendez and I--have talked it over. Our job--one of our jobs--is to protect others. We can't do that if our mere presence endangers everyone else. We stay off the ship. Besides, there's a job that needs doing. One that we can do best from here, in the joint ops center. One that I think you'll approve of. In fact, it will require your approval, and Xenologist Remdex's okay as well. We think we can work it so we're safe--more or less--in the joint ops center. Once the job is done, we'll wait for the right moment, and run like hell for the Reqwar Pavlat embassy, or call them for a dustoff and pickup. They owe us some favors."
"They seemed to think the same thing," said the ambassador. "When I contacted them asking for help regarding the human civilians, I happened to mention you by name while explaining the situation. Apparently you know the, ah, chief executive of one of their planets?"
"You could say that we, ah, got him the job, sir," said Jamie.
"That's what they said, too," Stabmacher agreed. "I didn't quite know what to make of it. For what it's worth--and it may be worth quite a lot--you've both been granted full Reqwar Pavlat citizenship, as well as citizenship on the Pavlat home world, effective as of about thirty seconds ago. If you do choose to stay, they'll do all in their power to protect you--but that might not be enough."
"We'll take the chance," said Jamie. "We've been in tight spots before. We'll manage."
"I'm starting to believe that," Stabmacher said. "But what's this task you want to do?"
"It's pretty simple," said Jamie. "BSI agents have to do a lot of cop work, of course. Some times we have to edge over into your territory--diplomacy. We're thinking of branching out into a whole new area."
"And what would that be?" Stabmacher asked.
Jamie smiled, and gestured toward Hannah. "Hannah and I are going to hang out our shingle on the joint ops center," he said. "We're going to see about practicing a little freelance interstellar law."
TWENTY-FOUR
DEPARTURE
The last thing the embassy staff needed was the well-intentioned but fumbling help of two outsiders who hadn't ever been through an evac drill.
Hannah and Jamie were unwillingly passive observers, shoved to one side once it came down to the crunch. They watched the show from the same bench in front of the main embassy building that they had used on their first night there.
The compound was a mess. Paper blew everywhere. Puddles of cold ash were kicked up by the wind and then thrown down again. Heaps of clothes, abandoned suitcases, books, tools, equipment, supplies were scattered everywhere. Doors were left wide open. A window or two had been smashed in order to save time moving large and bulky objects. The flowers and plants in Zhen Chi's garden were simply gone, with nothing left but heaped-up piles of dirt. Perhaps she had hustled them on board the Kofi Annan. Perhaps there was some regulation that required the garden to be destroyed during an evacuation. Perhaps she was just determined to leave nothing behind that might be sullied by the Vixa.
For some reason, one of the tables from the Snack Shack had been dragged outdoors along with four chairs. Four full place settings were arranged on it--including, somewhat incongruously, four BSI coffee mugs identical to the one at the crime scene. It looked as if someone had intended to have one last civilized meal before departure. But that meal was never going to happen.
There were shouts, crashes, and thuds coming from everywhere, then nowhere. The whole place would mysteriously go silent, then abruptly erupt in noise all over again.
People had been rushing in and out of the ship's main hatch, but it was getting to the point where most of the traffic was one-way, into the ship.
Just minutes before the takeoff deadline, the main embassy gates swung open, and a large manually operated groundcar came roaring up. Tancredo Zamprohna was driving, and driving fa
st. He slammed on the brakes and came to a screeching halt five meters from the main building. He was out of the car before it stopped moving, and immediately set to work hustling a gaggle of bewildered, tearful, frightened teenagers into the Kofi Annan. He saw them to the main hatch.
Jamie and Hannah watched as he hugged his daughter good-bye. "Weird to see a guy with ideas as wrong as his work so hard to do the right thing," said Jamie.
"Yeah, well he's only human," said Hannah. "And I don't feel right sitting here watching his good-byes to his daughter. Especially with this camera helmet strapped to my head. It feels downright creepy to be recording this."
"We've got to get it all," said Jamie, reaching up to touch the helmet-cam rig he was wearing. "So everyone else can see it later."
"Some plans sound better than they turn out to be," said Hannah. "I'm starting to think this wasn't our best idea."
Milkowski had come up to Zamprohna, and the two of them were arguing. Jamie probably could have fiddled with the camera's microphones, and heard what they were saying, but it wasn't really necessary. The gestures and hand-waving, and the snatches of speech that he did manage to hear, told it all. Zamprohna wanted to stay in the compound and see the ship off. Milkowski told him that was a good way to get himself killed or hurt--and probably the last thing that the human civilians who were being left behind needed to deal with was a badly wounded man.
The wind shifted, just for a moment, and Jamie could hear Milkowski clearly. "So get the hell out of here. You won't do your daughter any good by staying, you'll be able to watch the liftoff better from farther away--and you'll have less chance of being shot at."
There were times when there was nothing harder to say no to than a perfectly logical and reasonable argument. Jamie could read it on Zamprohna's face. There was no sense to it at all, but it was obvious the man felt he was betraying his daughter by moving a few hundred meters away. Jamie felt for the man. Jamie knew he wouldn't have felt right if Milkowski had bullied him into abandoning his post. "I'm almost starting to feel glad we're staying," he said.
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