by David Weber
“Oh, absolutely,” Michael agreed, “and learning the ship was owned by Starflight Rentals told us less than nothing. However, Starflight Rentals is a franchise, and this particular franchise is run by Timberlake Incorporated of Sphinx, and Timberlake Incorporated of Sphinx is owned by Mountain Holding Trust, and Mountain Holding Trust is wholly owned by one George Ramsbottom—who also happens to be on the very short list of people who bought the security software package in question.”
“And Banshee is heading toward Sphinx,” Judith said.
“Michael,” Todd said, his voice puzzled, “wasn’t the young lady—the one we met today—wasn’t her name . . .”
“Alice Ramsbottom,” Michael said with deep satisfaction. “Alice Ramsbottom who ‘just happened’ to show up when we were leaving Mount Royal today. I wonder if she was checking our timetable, making sure we would arrive at Judith’s apartment at the right psychological moment.”
“But,” Todd protested, “Alice asked us if we could stop and have a coffee or something.”
“I am willing to bet,” Michael said, “that if we had accepted, she would have ‘just happened’ to be called back to work so we could make our timely departure. As it was, we were a little early, but that worked to our advantage.”
“She seemed like such a nice girl,” Todd said, disbelief and a mournful note coloring his words.
“I liked her, too, when we were kids,” Michael admitted. “But a lot of years have passed. Alice said she was working as her father’s secretary. George Ramsbottom is an outspoken Conservative. Like most Conservatives, he is adamantly against our alliance with Grayson. Come to think of it, Babette Ramsbottom, Alice’s mother, has also spoken against it—but from the Liberal position. Isolationism’s probably the only point where the Liberals and the Conservative Association actually agree. So Alice could have been scouting for either of her folks.”
“And she seemed like such a nice girl,” Todd repeated.
“Prisons are full of people who seemed like ‘nice girls,’ Lieutenant Liatt,” Vincent observed sourly. “And I’d have to say, your Highness,” he continued, turning to Michael, “that I think your reasoning is sound.”
“And can the Sphinx detachment rustle up the sting ships for us?” Michael asked.
“There will probably be some questions asked,” Vincent replied with what Michael recognized as massive understatement. “The fact that I’m assigned directly to you should mean that they only get asked afterward, however. In fact, I can probably arrange to have an entire company ready to move in on the ground to tighten the perimeter, if you wish.”
“I wish,” Michael said grimly, and Vincent bent his head in brief, formal acknowledgment of his prince’s order.
“In that case, Your Highness, I should probably get busy on the com.”
* * *
“Michael, I don’t think Banshee is heading for a standard orbit after all,” Todd Liatt said. “Look at this.”
Michael poked his head into the flight deck and frowned. Todd was right. Rather than settling into one of the low orbits small ships like Banshee and Ogapoge would normally use to rendezvous with passenger shuttles, the other runabout was obviously bound for a much higher orbit.
“They’re headed for that freight platform,” Todd said, indicating the transponder beacon. “Aslan Station,” he added.
“Vincent,” Michael called over his shoulder, “I think a new factor has been added.”
“Were we wrong about the Ramsbottoms?” Judith asked, her voice tense, and Michael spared her a small smile. How many anxious mothers would have said “we” in a case like this instead of “you,” he wondered.
“I don’t think so,” he replied. “Aslan Station is a freight and passenger transfer platform that just happens to be operated by Timberlake Incorporated under a long-term lease from Astro Control.”
Her expression lightened, and he looked at Valles.
“I think we’re going to need docking clearance, Vincent. Can you arrange it without bringing me into the equation? Just a nice, simple little civilian docking request?”
“I believe I can manage that, Your Highness,” Vincent agreed, and bent over the com again while Banshee headed directly towards the platform. The other ship was obviously expected and precleared to dock, and Michael frowned as Banshee settled into the platform’s docking arms and the personnel tube ran out to her.
“Problems, Vincent?” he asked quietly while Todd brought Ogapoge smoothly to rest relative to the platform. There seemed to be a lot of small craft and heavy-lift shuttles in the vicinity, but no one seemed in any hurry to insert Ogapoge into the approach pattern.
“I’m afraid so, Your Highness,” Vincent admitted. “The station seems to be very busy at this time of day.”
The lieutenant’s eyes met Michael’s and the prince frowned.
“You think they’re really that busy?” he asked. “Or is it just a trick to keep us floating around out here?”
“I don’t know,” Vincent said slowly. “I’m inclined to think it’s genuine, judging by the traffic we’re observing. Of course, they knew where they were going before we did. If they also knew how busy Aslan was going to be, they may have deliberately factored that into their planning. Preclearing Banshee would be one way to let them get back a bit of their lead on any pursuers.”
“Can we do anything to hold Banshee?”
“We could,” Vincent hesitated. “I’m in touch with the platform Customs detachment, and I’m sure I could convince them to take a special interest in her. But interfering that openly might have severe ramifications for Miss Ruth.”
“You’re right,” Michael said. “We’re just going to have to get aboard ourselves.”
Time passed with aching slowness as they waited to be cleared to approach the orbital station. Vincent had contnued his communication with the station’s Customs and Astro Control detachments while they waited. Now he spoke with a degree of hesitation unusual for him.
“Prince Michael, I think we have a problem. Banshee has been docked for over forty minutes now, but according to the senior Customs officer, she’s more or less sitting there abandoned. Her passengers apparently debarked immediately and headed for another ship, Cormorant, which arrived in from Manticore just a short time ago. Both of them boarded Cormorant and have already departed the station.”
“Course?” Michael said.
“They requested clearance for out-system. That’s all. Space is a big place. We could search for hours and not find them, even though they don’t have a very big head start.”
“Crew?” Judith interrupted before Michael could ask for more details. “Did they see Ruth?”
Vincent shook his head. “The pair had with them several pieces of luggage. I asked a few discreet questions, and there were two trunks of a size that could have held your daughter. I’m sorry, ma’am.”
Michael slammed his fist into his palm. “Damn!”
“We’ve got clearance—finally,” Todd put in from the flight deck. “Do you want me to go ahead and dock? Or do we track Cormorant?”
“Take us in,” Michael said. “We’re going to have to check to make sure they weren’t just cutting their losses. They could have left Ruth behind on Banshee. Or they could have traded her to someone else and she could be on station. And maybe we can get some better information as to Cormorant’s destination.”
“Right,” Todd said.
“Vincent,” Michael said. “I want everything you can get me about Cormorant. There must be in-station cameras. Get us pictures of her crew. Bend rules. Go ahead and throw my name around with the people you’re already talking to. I also want a full list of ships that leave that station after Banshee’s arrival, their destinations, everything, just in case there was an exchange.”
“Yes, sir.”
Michael reached over and squeezed Judith’s hand. “Let me see what I can learn about Cormorant. That’s still our most likely target.”
He took o
ut his minicomp, logged into the Sphinx planetary data system, and started requesting information. Fortunately, he was requesting information on a civilian ship, so he did not run into any of the difficulties he might have had he been making the same requests about a military vessel.
The results came in just as Todd was bringing them into dock.
“I found out a few things,” Michael said. He felt a vicious smile twist his face. “Cormorant arrived in dock only a few hours ago. She’s also owned by Starflight Rentals. By odd coincidence she included among its incoming passengers someone I would very much like to speak with, someone who I believe is still on station.”
“You don’t mean . . .” Todd said, swinging around to look at Michael.
“That’s right, Alice Ramsbottom.”
* * *
“Alice Ramsbottom,” Judith repeated. “So we have confirmation of your suspicions that one of her parents is involved in Ruth’s kidnapping. How can we use that? Kidnap her, perhaps? Arrange for an exchange?”
“Your Majesty . . .” Vincent Valless began, but Michael cut him off with a wave of one hand.
“Don’t worry, Vincent. We’re not going to do anything so very illegal.”
Michael reached out and took one of Judith’s hands, cradling it between his broad, brown hands.
“Judith, I can do a good many things, but I can’t do that. I’d rather go to a nightclub and dance naked on a table while making outrageous pronouncements about the stupidity of my sister’s public policy. That would only damage my reputation. Kidnapping, though, that’s nasty stuff—not only illegal, but flat out wrong.”
Despite her fear for Ruth, Judith felt herself smiling at the image of Michael dancing on a table. Instantly, she became serious again.
“Michael, I don’t want you to do anything that would hurt you or Queen Elizabeth. But I want my baby back.”
“So do I,” Michael said. “Let’s find Alice Ramsbottom. Let’s talk to her.”
“And then?” Judith asked.
“We improvise.”
* * *
They found Alice Ramsbottom over at Banshee’s berth.
The inboard end of the ship’s boarding tube was open when they arrived, and so was the hatch at its outboard end. Vincent Valless insisted on boarding first, and Judith saw Michael’s fist open and close in a gesture of concealed frustration, but he didn’t protest.
Poor man. He may be a prince, but in some ways his life is as restricted as that of any Masadan wife. Unlike me, he can’t run away and make a new life for himself without hurting those he loves and respects.
Michael boarded close behind Vincent. As they entered the vessel, Alice could be seen through the flight deck hatch, intent on the control panel, apparently running a pre-flight check. She was concentrating on her task too intently to notice their arrival until Michael spoke in a soft but firm voice.
“Alice, it’s me. Michael Winton. I need to talk to you.”
Judith was just a few paces behind Michael, almost treading on his heels, and she saw Alice’s expression. There was surprise there, mild shock when she saw the pulser on which Vincent’s hand rested, but no guilt.
What if she doesn’t know anything? What if we’re just wasting time? Oh, God—I’ll believe in you again—just give me back my baby. Alive. Happy. Unhurt.
“Mikey?” Alice looked at the prince. Her hands remained on the control panel, but she didn’t move. It wouldn’t have mattered if she had. Before they had come to Banshee’s berth, Michael had done some tech wizardry that cut the ship off from outside contact while creating a data loop to hide the fact.
Judith didn’t have the least idea how Michael had done it, but she took his word that for the moment at least Alice was isolated.
“Is anyone else aboard?” Michael asked.
The video images Vincent had been tracking even as they moved through the station had shown Alice alone, Judith knew, but it never hurt to check.
“No,” Alice replied, her voice puzzled. “Mikey? What’s going on? Who is that woman? Why does your guard have his hand on his weapon? What are you doing here?”
The three had all entered the ship’s roomy cabin by now. Banshee was a bit larger than Ogapoge, but otherwise, the two little runabouts were much alike. A few rows of comfortable seats stretched back from the flight deck, sandwiched between its hatch and the equally cramped engineering section aft. There was a small cargo area between the passenger seats and engineering, but its hatch was open and it was obviously empty. Judith glanced around anyway, looking for any sign Ruth had been here. There was nothing.
“The woman is my good friend, Judith Newland,” Michael said. “We’re here because her daughter, Ruth, is missing, and we have reason to believe Ruth left Manticore on this ship.”
“What? How . . .” Alice let her hands drop to her lap, and stared up at Michael, her momentary expression of incredulity fading, colored with something else. “Go on. Tell me. Fast.”
Michael did. Judith knew he had various holo files ready to show if Alice demanded evidence, but the young woman only listened, her intelligent eyes narrowing.
“Search,” she said, waving her hand back, “but you won’t find anything.”
“Do you believe me?” Michael asked.
Judith listened as she moved among the rows of seats.
“I do,” Alice said. “My parents have been behaving strangely lately. My dad insisted that I come to Mount Royal with him today. He sent me into the corridor, flat out telling me he’d seen my old schoolmate the prince in the hall, and wouldn’t it be nice if I made myself really friendly. He even reminded me you didn’t go by ‘Mikey’ anymore. Then he sent me off in Cormorant, only to tell me to leave her in dock and get Banshee down to Choire Ghlais. No reason, no explanation—just do it. It was pretty obvious he was busy with some scheme, but I never expected something like this.”
“So you believe he’d plan a kidnapping?”
“If he could make himself believe it was for the greater good, yes,” Alice said. “Helping get the Star Kingdom back on track. Reuniting a daughter with her father. Yes, I do. It’s obvious they’ve managed to misread the Grayson mindset badly, if they expect this to have the effect they obviously want, but that doesn’t really surprise me. They’re very good at maneuvering within their own political and power circles, but outside that, they both tend to see what they want to see. I don’t doubt that they could convince themselves to believe this would all work out ‘for the best,’ and Daddy is particularly good at distancing himself from the human aspect . . . Look at his relationship with my mother.”
Michael nodded. “Yes. Married enemies. That can’t be easy on anyone, but . . .”
Alice shook her head. “There’s more to it than that, but now’s not the time to talk. You say the people who took Banshee here to Aslan Station transferred to Cormorant. Any idea of their course?”
Vincent cut in. “Lieutenant Liatt just commed me. He’s been tracing various out-system vessels. He thinks he has Cormorant. It took him a while to sort her transponder out from all the surrounding traffic.”
“And?” Michael said.
“She’s heading out-system, but since she’s not hyper-capable, she’s probably heading for a rendezvous of some sort.”
Alice nodded sharply. “Kwahe’e. I’ll bet anything she’s going to meet Kwahe’e.”
“Kwahe’e?” Judith asked.
Alice swivelled her chair so she could look directly at Judith. “Parents never think their kids notice things. I’ve noticed a lot of things—like Kwahe’e. It’s a hyper-capable vessel, not large. Technically, she’s a small, fast interstellar transport for corporate VIPs, but she’s large enough to transport small, valuable cargos, too. In fact, that’s what she spends most of her time doing. Those cargos aren’t precisely illegal—at least I don’t think so—but they aren’t exactly the sort you want other people to connect to a prominent politician and business executive.”
“So they’ll
transfer Ruth to Kwahe’e,” Judith said. “And Kwahe’e will be the ship that meets with Ephraim.”
“That’s how I see it,” Alice said. “Now what do you plan to do? You can’t chase them down and shoot at them—for one thing, there’s too much chance the little girl will get hurt. What was your plan once you located them?”
* * *
Michael was momentarily stunned, especially when he saw the confident look Judith turned toward him. He’d never expected a chase out-system. He’d thought the kidnappers would go to another planet—probably Sphinx—and once downside he and Vincent would be able to recruit help from the local Palace Security detachments. They would have helped and kept their silence afterwards. Now, this . . .
Alice came to his rescue. “I have an idea. Let me in on this. We’ll do a two-ship approach. I’ll com Cormorant, make some excuse for us meeting up: additional supplies probably. That should slow them. Then I’ll take Banshee out to intercept.”
“What if they contact whoever hired them,” Judith asked, “and find out there are no such supplies?”
Alice smiled sadly. “I’m willing to bet that they were never given a contact number. Too dangerous.”
“I agree,” Michael said. “Why use a cutting edge avatar program and then create such an easy avenue for tracing? Okay. But I’m not sure I like the idea of your taking Banshee out.”
Alice flared. “Don’t you trust me, Mikey? Do you think I’d condone kidnapping a small child? Or do you think I’m not capable of handling my own company’s ship?”
Michael held up both hands in a gesture half-surrender, half-self-defense.
“Easy! I wasn’t thinking either. I was thinking about you. You’re going to be in serious trouble with your parents as it is. If you don’t participate any further, you’ll be able to cover yourself: say we put pressure on you; say we lied and told you that we were authorized to take Banshee.”
Unspoken in this was what they all knew. Even if—when—Ruth was recovered, the Ramsbottoms would go unpunished. The kidnappers themselves might stand trial, but they would know nothing about their principals. Even if they did, actually proving the connection to the Ramsbottoms would probably be difficult . . . not to mention its providing the very scandal they were trying to prevent. Therefore, Alice would have to deal with the wrath of whichever parent was behind this plot.
