Metal Sky

by Jay Caselberg

  He pushed aside the slight, irrational touch of jealousy he was feeling. He’d guessed exactly as much. “How much more? You seemed pretty cut up about his murder . . . .” He didn’t even need to force the sarcasm.

  “Yes, I know,” she said without a moment’s hesitation. “This is sometimes a dangerous business, Mr. Stein. It has its risks. We were aware of those. We always had been. Sometimes the prize is far greater than the risk. Of course I was upset, but I’m not a little girl.”

  He noted how she’d neatly avoided actually answering his question. Jack leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “And you have no idea who might have killed Carl and taken the artifact.”

  She gave a slight shake of her head, her mouth held tightly closed.

  “Okay, then . . . so why does Landerman want this thing so badly? It looks to me like his interest is a little more than that of a simple collector. And before you start spinning me a tale, I know about the artifact. I know what it is. I’ve been to Mandala.”

  “Y-you’ve been to Mandala?” For once he’d really caught her off guard. He suppressed a self-satisfied smile.

  “That’s right. And very educational it was too.”

  She sighed then. At last, Jack seemed to be getting through some of that carefully constructed exterior. Progress.

  “All right. No, it wasn’t an heirloom. It was just another item, an item that Landerman wanted to acquire. It came from the university, but you probably know that already. Landerman believes it’s a map key that will lead to the location of an alien homeworld. He’s hoping to be able to use that to further his own ends.” She shrugged. “How true that might be, I don’t care. All I care is that the price is right. Carl and I took delivery, and realizing the potential worth of it, we decided to turn the process into an open market. We know there is definitely interest in the object from other quarters. We decided to play the advantage.”

  “It came from the university? How?” Something about his dream was nagging at him.

  She shook her head slightly. “Carl had contacts there. Someone called Antillie or Andie or something.”

  Jack nodded slowly, filing the information away. Was it really Hervé? Maybe Antille was a common name on Utrecht, but he didn’t think so. He’d follow that particular piece of information later.

  “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. I don’t get it though. What benefit does Landerman hope to gain?”

  She gave a short, unamused laugh. “Oh, you should hear him when he gets on his favorite bandwagon. Advancement of the human species. Superiority. It’s laughable really. He thinks that this might lead them to the aliens and they can steal a march on the opposition with the technology he hopes to get from them. Who knows? I don’t know whether he hopes to steal it from them or buy it or what. Perhaps he thinks they have things that he and his blessed Sons of Utrecht can use. He really is a pain. But he’s a very rich pain, Jack. If the price is right, you can ignore a multitude of shortcomings.”

  “All right . . .” Jack rubbed his chin, considering. “What’s he paying you?”

  She looked away.

  “Oh, come on,” said Jack. “You may as well tell me.”

  “Five hundred thousand,” she said quietly.

  Jack whistled. “Damn. No wonder you’re eager to get hold of it. So what’s the story with Talbot?”

  “After we came here—this place was a good venue, the Excelsior, nice neutral ground in which to conduct the bidding process—Carl had a couple of conversations with Landerman. He started getting cold feet about what he started to call ‘betraying’ Landerman. I think that was just a story though, to cover up what he was really up to. I thought he might be setting up the auction and inviting Landerman to the party. And then he disappeared. I suspected he wanted to cut me out of the deal entirely. That’s why I wanted him found.”

  “Oh, yeah. I bet you did.”

  Jack stood and started pacing. She sat where she was, watching him, not saying anything, just letting him work things through. Finally he stopped.

  “And that’s the whole story?”

  “Well, almost,” she said. “Of course, after his conversations with Carl, Landerman obviously wasn’t very happy. In an auction, he’d end up having to pay more, and besides, he’d contracted Carl in the first place to get it. Carl had broken the deal. And then Landerman turned up here. Here in Yorkstone. Naturally, knowing the man and knowing how he operates, I decided it was wiser not to be in close proximity to him. I’ve had the proof that that was the right decision. Look what happened to Carl.”

  “If Landerman had Carl killed, what’s he still doing here?” said Jack. “He’d have the artifact. There’d be no reason for him to stay.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not saying it was Landerman. It could be any interested party. All I’m saying is that this is very dangerous. I know Landerman; I know what he’s like. He’s just as dangerous as any of them.”

  “Why didn’t you just take off then?”

  She stood and crossed to stand right in front of him. “Think about it, Jack. Five hundred thousand, and that’s just the starting price.” She reached out to touch his arm. “You can have a part of that. With Carl out of the way, the field’s open. Help me get the artifact. Think of the possibilities. We could be a team.” She lowered her voice. “I’m sure we’d make a wonderful team, Jack.”

  He reached down and covered her hand with his, leaning closer. Her other hand came up, resting flat against the center of his chest. He gave a slight intake of breath as he read the signal. She was playing him again. Carefully, deliberately, he removed her hand from his arm. He turned away from her and stepped over to the window, looking out onto the street below, mulling over what she’d been saying. Finally he turned back to look at her.

  “Well, if Landerman hasn’t got the artifact, and it wasn’t with Carl, then where is it? I think there’s something missing.”

  “All right,” she said. “We don’t know who has it, but that’s what you do, Jack. You can find that out.”

  “But you’re still not telling me everything, are you, Ms. Farrell?”

  She gave a little frown. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Oh, I think you do. You want to tell me about the Alan Dean?”

  She blanched. Quickly she turned away so that he couldn’t see her face. “I’m not sure I know what—”

  “Oh, yes, you do,” said Jack. “The Alan Dean is a freighter. You know that. Talbot had it listed for Wednesday, which is tomorrow. Unless it was last Wednesday. Somehow I don’t think so though, or you wouldn’t still be here. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  She sighed and crossed back to the couch, looking across at him as though she were a naughty girl. He stood where he was, returning the look with a flat stare.

  “Yes, you’re right,” she said finally. “It’s due tomorrow. The captain is a contact of ours, does the occasional job for us. Sensitive stuff, for a fee. The Alan Dean is carrying the artifact.”

  He wasn’t expecting that. “It’s carrying . . . Then what’s . . . ?” He shook his head. Suddenly it made sense, but then it didn’t make sense. He shook his head again and took a couple of steps toward her. “Why the hell am I looking for an artifact that you know damned well isn’t here? In fact, you know exactly where it is. Dammit. You have all along. What’s this all about, Ms. Farrell? What are you playing at?” He narrowed his eyes, feeling his jaw tensing with the realization of exactly how much she’d been manipulating him, and getting away with it.

  She sighed. “All right, Jack. Yes, I know where it is. With the new jump capability, most of the focus is on the newer ships. People forget about ships that travel the old way. Cargo freighters, that sort of thing, are beneath the scrutiny of many officials. We had to get the artifact off Utrecht and away. That was already the plan as soon as we had acquired it.

  Yorkstone is close enough to the spaceport to be a convenient pickup location. It also happened to be an ideal venue fo
r holding an auction. It’s neutral. None of the major players have interests here. For that reason, Yorkstone is often used to host such transactions.

  “We just had to come here and wait for the artifact to show up. After a couple of weeks, some of the heat of the investigation relating to its initial disappearance would have cooled and the artifact would have made its way here as we intended. Then we could be free to do with it what we wanted. We didn’t need to hand it over to Landerman. We didn’t need to hand it over to anyone in particular unless the price was right. We’d be free to have the auction, with Landerman far enough away for it not to matter. Somehow, though, Landerman had gotten hints of what we intended.”

  She paused, thinking, and shook her head.

  “I think perhaps Carl had set him up ready for it. Either that, or he wanted to deal with Landerman direct and cut me out of the picture. Then Landerman showed up here, unexpectedly. Nothing had been arranged. Nothing. As a result, I had to find somewhere to lie low for a while until the Alan Dean showed up.”

  “Yeah,” said Jack, scratching the back of his neck. “I still don’t get it though. Why hire me in the first place?”

  She blinked a couple of times. Jack picked it for what it was. Her mind was racing, trying to come up with something plausible to feed him.

  “No, really, Carl had disappeared, and I needed to know if something had happened to him or whether he was just pulling another scam on me. I really did want him found. I knew about the Alan Dean from him. For all I knew, that could have been a story to keep me off the scent while he made his own arrangements to pick up the item and keep me out of the deal, knowing Carl. It wouldn’t have been impossible. He’d do something just like that. But now he’s dead and the artifact hasn’t shown up.”

  “So, where the hell is it?” said Jack.

  She sighed. “I can only believe that it is truly with the captain of the Alan Dean; otherwise it would have shown up and I would have heard about it. I’m still going to need you, Jack. With Landerman here, I’m going to need you to pick up the package—as far as I know, the captain doesn’t know what he’s carrying—and then bring it to me. I would be recognized. I don’t know how many of his people Landerman has here. I don’t know how many places he’s having watched. He’s aware of Carl’s methods. I would think that the port would be a logical place for him to apply his attention. You have to help me, Jack. You pick up the item, and we can share the profits. Think about it.”

  Her desperate need was starting to filter through. But it was more than need; it was simple greed starting to spark in her eyes. Jack was starting to have suspicions about what had actually happened to Talbot, but he was going to keep them to himself for now. He crossed back to the chair and sat.

  “Okay, that makes a kind of sense, but there’s still one problem. Landerman knows me. That little sidekick of his, Larkin, knows me. What do you suggest we do about that?”

  “You look like you can handle yourself, Jack.”

  “That’s not quite the point, is it?”

  She tapped at her cheek rapidly with her fingers and then moved them to cover her lips. After a moment’s thought, she spoke. “No, but listen. I can’t believe Carl would have told Landerman about the freighter. Landerman might suspect—Carl had moved things around like that before—and he might be having the port watched, but he wouldn’t know which ship and when, would he? All you have to do is get to the port and rendezvous with the captain, discreetly. I’m sure you’re used to being discreet.”

  “Hmmm,” said Jack. She was forgetting one thing. If he could find out about the Alan Dean, then so could Landerman. Especially a man of his apparent resources. She seemed not to have considered that possibility, but he wasn’t going to mention that now. He wanted this to play out properly.

  “So you’ll do it, Jack?”

  “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

  She made to stand and cross to him, but he waved her down. “What’s the captain’s name?”

  “Gourley.”

  “Is there a first name?”

  She shook her head. “Just Captain Gourley.”

  “And what time tomorrow? Do you know?”

  “It’s due to berth around four thirty.”

  Jack nodded slowly. “Okay.” He stood. “I’ll be in touch. Stay where you are. I’ll see myself out.”

  “You won’t be sorry, Jack.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see.”

  As he reached the door, he turned. “Oh, there is one last thing. You talked about other interests. Do you know anything more about that? Who might be involved? Have you got any details?”

  “Yes. Carl spoke about a couple of people. I think they represent corporations. There was one called Antony Vasche. And another called Van Stuben or something. A strange name. As far as those other interests go, I’m sure I can arrange to get the word out. The artifact will generate its own interest. We can be sure of that. I know how these things work, Jack.”

  “Van Stuben? Not Van der Stegen, by any chance . . .”

  “Yes, that could have been the name.”

  “Hunh,” said Jack. Imagine that. He paused at the door before leaving, thinking that over, and taking the opportunity to have one last long look at Danuta Galvin before he departed.

  Eighteen

  It was funny, but now, thinking about it, there really were some strange linkages. If Outreach hadn’t made the breakthrough in the drive technology, allowing for almost instantaneous travel through the vast interstellar distances, then the artifact would probably have no meaning at all. There’s no point wanting to travel somewhere if you don’t have the means to travel. If the tablet did indeed point to an alien homeworld, then who knew how far it was, how long it would take with conventional travel? One thing leads to another. He wondered briefly who this other player was. The name Antony Vasche wasn’t familiar, but then there was no reason for it to be. He was likely a negotiator for another corporate player wanting to get in on the act, for, no matter which way you looked at it, you’d have to have the resources to mount that sort of expedition. Visiting an alien homeworld. Yeah, right. Well, not Jack Stein. At least nowhere but in his dreams. He had trouble enough coming to terms with the things found in there without something not only truly alien, but real as well.

  Jack wandered down to the shuttle stop. There was one there in moments, and as he boarded, he was deep in thought.

  Hearing the name Van der Stegen again after so long came as a bit of a surprise. He thought he’d done with that family when they’d left the Locality. He had suspected Outreach Industries were involved, but there had been nothing else to link them and certainly not to link the man himself to the operation. Sure, they were involved at the site on Mandala, but that could have been something as simple as merely supplying the transport to get equipment back and forth between Utrecht and Mandala. Apart from his gut feeling, there’d been nothing to tie them in at all. But now that it came down to it, the artifact was something that would interest Van der Stegen, and he would have the resources to make use of what it purported to be. That sort of obscure knowledge would be something that Van der Stegen would find really attractive. Since Jack’s involvement with the whole mining crew disappearance, and the subsequent revelations about the drive technology, he’d had nothing to do with Outreach. That was one thing about the Locality that he didn’t miss—their corporate fingerprint all over their lives. And now it looked like there were links to Yorkstone too, despite the surface appearance. Outreach Industries. Things just moved in circles. Around and around.

  He looked out the shuttle window at the passing buildings and streets and tugged gently at his lower lip. No, this place didn’t have the taint of Outreach Industries. This was just events conspiring again to make the links. He was reading too much into it.

  So, he’d have to get to the port in time for docking tomorrow and find this Captain Gourley, hopefully relieve him of the artifact, and then work out what to do with it. He was damned sure that he wouldn’
t be playing Bridgett Farrell’s game. He wasn’t sure he wanted to play along with Landerman either. And he sure as hell wanted nothing further to do with Outreach. The big problem was, he was faced with a wealth of choices, and none of them was particularly attractive. The other thing was that he couldn’t trust the Farrell woman as far as he could throw her. Dammit. Sometimes it was almost enough to make him think that fate didn’t like him very much.

  He left the shuttle and headed for the apartment, keeping one eye out for Larkin, but the building entrances and streets were clear. Back at the apartment, Billie was waiting for him.

  “So?” she said.

  Jack dumped his coat and headed for the kitchen to make himself a coffee, his head still ticking. “Yeah,” he said. “She was the same as ever. Worse maybe. The whole Alan Dean thing was great though, Billie. It really helped.”

  “Come on, Jack. Tell me.”

  “Yeah, give me a couple of minutes to get this coffee and then I’ll sit down and tell you. Not so fast.”

  He took his time with the coffee, then headed back into the living room where she waited for him impatiently. He sat and took a couple of sips before starting. Billie looked like she was going to burst.

  Slowly, he recounted the meeting with Bridgett Farrell, only pausing to answer questions as Billie fired them at him.

  “So, I need to meet this freighter, hook up with Captain Gourley and try and retrieve the item.”

  “Uh-huh. And then what?” said Billie.

  Jack grimaced slightly. “That, I haven’t worked out yet. There are just too many people involved. I’m sort of hoping that the artifact itself might give me some clues. It’s about time I started having something decent to work with.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  He shrugged. “Just what I say.”

  She was glowering at him. “What’s wrong?” he said.