Double Bait (Stone Blade Book 2)

by James Cox

  Tracy's lower lip started quivering. Robin released her and looked away...

  Robin jerked awake again. This time her room shrank into focus quicker thanks to the dim light she left on. Without thinking she wiped her hand on her shirt. The alarm showed a little over an hour before it sounded; Robin knew better than to try for more sleep. Tiredly she rose, dressed and powered up her terminal.

  ***

  Carl moved in with a double-feint-kick. Robin's ribs, already sore, screamed at her as the kick landed. Again. After she stabilized herself she moved to ready stance. Carl simply stared, arms folded, and said nothing.

  "I'm not weak," said Robin defiantly. Carl said nothing. "I'm not," she repeated.

  "Didn't say you were," he said, "You want to talk about it?"

  "About what?"

  "Whatever's bothering you. That's the fourth time I threw that kick and the fourth time you let it hit. You can talk or we can waste more time at this. Your choice but if you want to fight you'll just end up hurting a lot more."

  His words fanned a small spark of anger in her.

  "Why am I here," demanded Robin.

  Carl sat and pointed to the other chair.

  "Because we need a burner."

  "Feces! Robert is plus-plus pyro enough."

  "We need a burner who is intimately familiar with local data transfer protocols."

  "I almost believe that."

  Carl scowled. "Slib. The people we're after..."

  "... are bad news, nasty, rotten, low..."

  "The people we're after," he interrupted sharply, "are incredibly good at avoiding being seen. We know there were at least five principals on Echo Bend. We neutralized two but didn't get a gram of information from either of them. That leaves at least three loose. That we know."

  "Everett." The name chilled Robin. "Claud Everett."

  "He was Claud Vinsley before Echo Bend," said Carl, "and he was our link to the other two. Robert and I might be able to spot him. We know you can."

  "Maybeso," said Robin, "You and Robert change like fadescales. Fast and often."

  "There's more to it than looks."

  Robin shivered at this. Carl reached over and ran his finger down her arm. She only lifted an eyebrow at him.

  "You're only as weak as you allow yourself to be," he said, "Think on that. We'll try this again tomorrow morning."

  Robin bowed to the image in the mirror and began her routine. After finishing with Carl she tried to work her terminal but couldn't concentrate. Fragments of her dreams kept sliding across the screen. Then she tried to read, again with the same results. Rita Jasworth taught multiple short routines and Carl few but longer ones, and harder. Under him she went through them again and again until she satisfied him. Then she went through them more.

  The physical activity absorbed Robin's concentration until finally, blessedly her mind cleared. She flowed from one stance to another, executing slow punches and kicks timed with her deep, steady breathing. Carl also taught her that. He made a dance of it. At first her moves were jerky and uncertain but they improved quickly. Now her body knew what to do and she simply followed it and concentrated on... nothing. Carl drilled that into her hard. She felt every part of herself and allowed it to move.

  Robin stopped mid-routine when the door opened and Carl walked in.

  "What the hades are you doing?"

  "Practicing," she replied, slightly winded.

  "Restart that routine! You know better than to stop in the middle."

  She complied, albeit shakily. Carl watching her made her nervous and she was already tired. Nonetheless she finished the routine without drawing an acerbic comment so she counted that a victory. When she flowed back into ready stance and took the last breath she turned to Carl and bowed. He inclined his head, so victory again.

  "Almost time for lunch," he said, "You might want a quick shower."

  Barely late, Robin saw Robert sitting at the table with Coyler and, amazingly, Marcie Gregory. After brief introductions the food arrived and everyone at the table tucked into it.

  "... and I closed the deal," said Coyler, "Local contract with Durastel, in solid signed and sealed! I was talking while the others were waiting to see where the prices would settle." Here he grinned smugly. "I had a good read and a feeling they'd hit low so I took the chance. It paid off big and now I'm gold and the rest of those stapes are looking down, eating ground."

  "Polar," said Gregory, obviously enthralled.

  "But enough about me." Coyler turned to Robin. "What about a friendly game of ricochet?"

  Carl grunted assent and the rest followed. On the way to the lounge Coyler took Robin's arm. She didn't particularly like it but short of breaking his arm she didn't know how to stop it.

  "I find," said Coyler as he racked the balls, "that the key to a good game is in the break. Care to shoot it, Ralph?" Then, as Carl lined up the shotball, "A good solid break can end a game. Even before it starts good."

  Carl lined up the cue casually, pulled it back and slammed it into the shotball. Robin, Gregory and Coyler all jumped at the impact. Carl scattered the balls but didn't drop the nine.

  "Yeah," drawled Carl, "Breaks can be... useful."

  Robin spent the rest of the game struggling to contain her laughter. Every time Carl lined up a shot against Coyler he put extra muscle behind it. Once he even bounced the shotball off the table entirely. Coyler won the point but took little victory in it. Apparently he read a deeper meaning into Carl's behavior.

  Three games sufficed to quell Coyler's competitive spirit. He won two but only just. Carl yawned seriously and ambled off for a nap. Robert and Gregory headed for the lounge sonocaster and Robin found herself at the bar drinking with Coyler.

  "I still say he's one mean pucko," said Coyler, "No offense meant."

  Robin smiled sweetly. "He's not mean. Not really. Not unless someone really, really deserves it." She noticed Coyler's hand close to hers. "I haven't been many places. Tell me what it's like. To travel so much, I mean."

  As he talked she slowly slid her hand away from his. Undeterred, he tried again. And again. Finally he discovered her ploy and took considerable amusement with it.

  Robin tried to make an early afternoon but they ended up in the lounge again. They played two-across with some of the other passengers, stopped for drinks, played zipspin, then one-across and then dinnertime arrived.

  This time the food tasted better! Robin didn't know why but it almost attained edibility. Robert and Carl both looked at her with evident concern but never managed to separate her from Coyler. No matter. She could handle things.

  After dinner the two of them ended up in the casino again. Robin sipped her wine and concentrated on the game. The world felt a bit blurry but not enough to affect her. Coyler muttered something about needing some luck and bought her another drink. He'd had an incredible losing streak and Robin didn't want to think about the amount. She thought back to the last few hands. They were playing solishan with eight decks and she had seen a lot of low cards coming out. The dealer discarded one card and shuffled the rest together. Although Robin couldn't remember exact cards she played a hunch against a low pattern and won. She bet into the next two and won again.

  "I've found my luck again," said Coyler. He echoed his bets to hers.

  Robin won the last five hands easily. The dealer, obviously displeased, discarded the current cards as soon as he could and shuffled another eight decks. Robin lost eight hands but very carefully didn't bet much. Before long she won Coyler back all he'd lost plus a nice pile for herself. Giddy with triumph she started back to her room.

  The hallway wobbled and shifted but Coyler, now beside her, held her steady.

  "That was nice, Tracy," he said, gently guiding her, "How are you feeling?"

  "Six-sigma-sigma polarrrrr," she giggled, "Plus-plus solid."

  The appearance of her door surprised Robin. They hadn't walked that far, surely. She fumbled with her keycard, Coyler found it for her, an
d it followed naturally that he should escort her inside. The floor still tilted randomly but with him there she could navigate it.

  "Why don't you... get comfortable," he suggested.

  "Fantastical idea," she said, "I think I will!"

  With one hand on the wall she managed to find and enter the fresher. She took a breath and splashed some cold water on her face. When she looked up she saw Tracy staring out the mirror at her.

  A sudden, hard surge of panic washed through Robin. Realization finally cut through the blurry haze; though the room still tilted her thoughts didn't.

  "Think," she whispered urgently, "Think, burn you! Focus!"

  Robin pummeled her brain. Coyler still waited outside and unless she thought of some way to make him leave... A harder panic tried to paralyze her.

  Her eyes fell on a small, folded piece of paper beside the sink. She knew she hadn't put it there. When she opened it she found it folded around a tablet. The paper itself was a label: Zogry's Solar Rain. Thoughts flashed through her mind: dancing with Robert, covering herself against the CA holocaster, the ride back to their motel... Robin swallowed the tablet dry.

  "Hey, baby," said Coyler, his shirt now unbuttoned, "I was starting to wonder."

  His arms around her. She smiled at him despite the twisting of her stomach and the sweat now starting to pour off her. Muzzily she pushed him back and reached for her buttons. His hands on her shoulders steadying her. Now Robin felt cold inside. Her non-plan could fail a thousand ways!

  "You're sweating, baby," leered Coyler, "Is something wrong?" His eyes said only her clothes were.

  "I'm hot," she slurred, "Pyro-plus-plus hot." She smiled.

  Then she threw up on him.

  ***

  Robin sat curled in her chair with her head pounding and her body aching. She tried with all her might to stay awake. She slept, fitfully if not well. Tracy haunted her dreams and taunted her in every one of them. Robin tried to defend herself but failed miserably every time. Then she'd awaken only to fight sleep yet again. Her clothes felt grimy on her but she couldn't bring herself to take them off. Coyler was long gone and her door was locked but his presence still haunted her. After one of her short sleeps she tried to drink some water but only managed a few sips.

  Robin jumped when the comm beeped. She'd privacy locked it earlier and she didn't want to talk to anyone. She started to unlock it and answer but she knew Robert or Carl would just walk in, never mind the locked door. Before long they both did just that.

  "Well," asked Carl, wrinkling his nose.

  The room stank of vomit, Robin knew that. She opened her mouth and tried to speak but the words refused to come out.

  "Here, luv," said Robert, handing her a bulb of juice, "You look like hades."

  A few sips awakened her thirst. Robin finished the bulb in short order. When she did he handed her another bulb and a headache tablet. Her clothes started crawling on her.

  "Thanks," she said quietly.

  "My room," said Carl, "Bring come clean clothes."

  Robin hid in Carl's shower. She set it as hot as she could and then some. She scrubbed, rinsed, scrubbed again and rinsed again. After she stepped out and dried herself thoroughly she brushed her teeth, washed out her mouth and washed her face again. She straightened her clothes just so and dressed as slowly as she could. When she finally left the fresher Carl tipped his chair down, closed his book and pointed to a tray.

  "Breakfast," he said, "if you want it. There's more juice, too; I know you want that."

  Robin ate meticulously. The tray held far more than she wanted but each bite meant a small delay. Unfortunately she filled up well before the tray emptied. When she finished Carl slid a pack of 'sticks across the table.

  "Well?"

  "Well what?" Robin tried to pack some ice behind her words but failed.

  "What happened?"

  "He... He tried... He wanted..." She looked down. "He tried to seduce me."

  "Robin, you spent most of the day with him. What else did you learn?"

  Robin looked up in surprise. Carl spoke with a gentleness totally alien to him.

  "What?"

  "Start with lunch," he said, again gently, "Go from there."

  Robin started talking. She spoke slowly at first but the words became easier the more she said. Then she reached the woozy walk back to her room. Carl sat, patiently waiting. Finally she managed to speak.

  Robin stared at Carl. He stared back. The silence grew louder and louder around them.

  "Go ahead," said Robin, "say it."

  "Say what?"

  "I'm worthless and weak. I rutted the puppy galaxy-wide. I'm a total failure."

  "Why exactly would I want to say that?"

  Robin stared in amazement.

  "How do you figure failure?" Carl leaned forward. "You uncovered quite a bit of information. If you can't think of what it is I'll detail it later. Let's talk about the failure part. Where, exactly, did that happen?"

  "He... He took me to my room. He... He wanted..."

  "He wanted to take you to bed." Carl spoke matter-of-factly. "Did you want that?"

  Robin shook her head.

  "Did he succeed?"

  She shook her head again.

  "So where's the failure?"

  Robert walked in, sparing her from answering.

  "They're cleaning your room, luv," said Robert, "The steward wasn't happy but he was, ahh... " he rubbed his thumb against his fingers, "he was open to persuasion. We can take it out of that pile of chits you left scattered on your dresser and floor." He handed her her winnings, now neatly bagged. "So what happened?"

  Before she could speak Carl started. Incredibly, he gave a terse, factual summary bereft of any disparagement of her.

  "So where's the failure," repeated Carl.

  "I... I couldn't stop him," she finally said, "If Robert hadn't left that capsule he'd have... succeeded."

  "Pardon," said Robert, "I didn't leave it, hon."

  She looked at Carl, not believing what she'd just heard.

  Carl shrugged. "Always have a backup plan, Robin. After dinner you were pretty well gone and he kept feeding it to you. Robert and I tried to pull you aside but you kept giving us the go-away. We could have thrashed him to a lumpy or smooth paste at any time but that would raise... questions. For that matter you could have broken a few of his bones. Why didn't you?"

  "I... I didn't think of it," she replied meekly.

  "Just as well. Tracy doesn't know how to physically handle people, remember?"

  Robin started to look down but stopped herself.

  "So," continued Carl, "you resolved your situation favorably and within plausible bounds."

  "He's right, hon," added Robert, "You did a plus-plus good job."

  "I still feel slimy."

  "Dear heart," said Robert, "for your future reference regarding the social jungle you have just encountered the silver-tongued smooth-talker. This animal is fairly common at clubs, pubs and sales conventions. The male of the species is very adept at worming and weaseling his way into and out of most types of social situations. They can usually be tracked by the trail of broken hearts and torqued-off boyfriends they leave behind."

  Robin puzzled over this, uncertain of Robert's degree of seriousness.

  "He is a slick talker," said Carl, "We're pretty sure he's embezzling funds from his company. Signor Coyler has an impressive stack of debts, all of which are resolved when he hits a planet. These debts are personal but it is always company funds that end up paying them. That's been going on as long as he's been aboard this ship and that's a lot longer than he's admitted to you or anyone else."

  "Y-you found that out?"

  "Yes, dear," said Robert, "While you had him so adeptly distracted. I shan't bore you with the grisly details."

  "You're sure?"

  "I'm satisfied," said Carl.

  Robin took a deep breath and sighed it out. "I still feel rotten. He's a sewage-sipping bottomfeeder!"r />
  "I concur," said Robert, "but one now above our suspicions. Am I to take it you don't mind parting company with him?"

  She shook her head.

  "Polar," said Carl, "It's almost time for lunch."

  Robin walked to the lounge between Carl and Robert. They both vetoed any makeup and Robin thought she looked bad. Coyler sat at his usual table, half-smiling when he saw Robin.

  With sudden inspiration she took Carl's arm and snuggled against him. When he looked down she made an anxious face and Coyler turned a dirty shade of pale. They sat at his table uninvited with him between Robert and Carl and Robin across from him.

  "Good morning, Tracy," said Coyler weakly, "Well... afternoon, really."

  "That wasn't nice," she said, "What you did to me."

  "My darling, whatever are you..."

  Coyler's words trailed off as Carl began cutting into his food with far more force than necessary.

  "Ahh. I see." Coyler slid his plate aside. "A slight misunderstanding, then. Do not concern yourself, lovely Tracy. It absolutely will not happen again."

  Carl stopped eating only long enough to utter a gruff "Good." Coyler left not long afterward and Robin enjoyed her meal. Despite the food.

  After lunch Robin had an enjoyable game of two-across with Robert, Carl and Marcie Gregory. Before long, though, Gregory left. She walked across the lounge and settled into a game of one-across with a slightly older man.

  "Liam McMarrin," said Robert, "A man of both means and manners. I found out her secret."

  Robin looked the question at him.

  "She's running away," said Robert, "From a boyfriend or a criminal record. Or a boyfriend with a criminal record. Not sure which. She was a lot friendlier until she found out how long it took me to save up for this trip."

  Robin sighed. "So that means we're after someone else."

  "Or not," chuckled Robert, "Don't make enemies by searching too hard for them. Not your job, hon. Besides, that's three we don't have to worry about."

  ***

  Lorna Gallaway looked at the terse message, then at Richmond Garry.

  "You're sure about this," she asked.

  "Positive. My sources are certain."

  With anyone else Gallaway would have dismissed the report out of hand.