He smiled, showing needle-like teeth. “As you wish."
Mortar snapped off the viewscreen. “Damn him! They should all be spaced, the lot of them!"
At the door, Gordon Rathbone said, “Which ones—the Blue Gills or the police?” He walked into the room. “You can't hope to find too much support for your theory, Mortar. Look at you: a poor grieving father struck down by a failing heart."
"That's not my reputation.” Mortar scowled.
"No, I don't suppose it is. People see what they expect to see, after all."
"And no one expects the Resort would be bombed to silence one small girl.” Mortar threw back the covers of his bed, sitting unsteadily. On the opposite wall, a hologram of Anneliese smiled at him, larger than life, frozen in beauty. “A brilliant child, my Anneliese."
"She was headstrong and difficult.” Gordon circled the foot of the bed.
Mortar accepted the offered robe. “Did I tell you about our hunting trip?"
"I remember she took to her bed screaming after you made your first kill."
"No, before that, as we trudged through the forest together. She knew instinctively which way to go—how to get back to the Lodge, the direction of the spaceport. Just eight years old, and with more sense than most adults. That's why I don't understand. If someone was asking unusual questions, why didn't she realize something was wrong?"
"She wasn't a good judge of character,” Gordon said.
"You're referring to Cade.” Mortar made his way across the room to a chair beside a window. His breath came in hitches and gasps. After a moment, he looked up. “I want to run another check on him."
Gordon laughed. “What do you hope to find? He's a rogue, a two-bit gambler, not first choice for a son-in-law, but...."
"Gambling debts.” Mortar leaned forward. “I want to see his financial records."
"I have them right here.” Gordon picked up the computer module from the bed, tapped a command, and then handed the screen to his employer. “He works as a trader when he has to, frequents the best casinos when he can. All in all, his debts are not too extensive—on the surface, at least."
"What about beneath the surface?"
Gordon shrugged. “He covers his trail."
"I want him uncovered. And get me Chief Ehrlic again. I want to speak with him."
"Mortar, listen to me. The police aren't going to help you. You've been on the wrong side too many times."
Mortar felt anger and frustration erupt within him, felt his face redden. “Of course they will help. They wouldn't dare defy me. My daughter's been murdered, for God's sake.” But they hadn't helped him. Oh, they'd been polite enough, but he knew they hadn't taken him seriously. He shoved his fingers into his hair—thick and white, the only attribute of his that his daughter shared. She so favored her mother.... His voice cracked. “What else can I do?"
"Take your medication and get some rest,” Gordon said. “Doctor Brenen is threatening to send you to a MedCenter."
Mortar waved his hand. “A minor health problem."
"No such thing as a minor heart attack.” Gordon crossed the room, opening the door. “I'll send Darly up with your breakfast."
Mortar gazed out the shaded window. Even Gordon refused to listen. No one would believe him—except the murderer, whoever set that blast. They were probably sitting right now behind a nice mug of ale, thinking they'd gotten away with it.
He looked up at his daughter's likeness, stared at it for several moments. Then he activated the computer module. The face of his pilot appeared upon the viewscreen.
"Yes, sir,” she said.
"Eryngo, ready the ship for an extended voyage,” he said. “I'm taking a little vacation."
"Right away, sir. What course shall I plot?"
"We're going to the Resort Debauch."
CHAPTER 15
Anneliese closed her eyes, waiting. Any moment now, she thought, she would hear the scavenger girl's scream, rising like a siren, calling the other children. Probably they would stone her, leave her broken body to cook in the sun....
A silent moment passed, then the girl reached over Anneliese's fingers to fasten the sandals. She stood, dusting the back of her robe.
"Our mother worked in the Resort,” the girl said. “She used to bring home the most delicious scraps. She always wished that I would work there. Dance until their eyes popped.” The girl spun, arms outstretched, laughing.
Anneliese blinked, struggling to her feet. “How is it that you speak Standard?"
"Mother taught me before she died. I practice every day, so I will be ready if a tourist should ask directions. Impress them,” she giggled, “and let them whisk me away. A stupid dream. If I left, who would care for Pilar?"
Anneliese massaged her temples, trying to focus her thoughts. Who was Pilar? A cat? A rodent?
The girl smiled, motioning toward the idiot child. “This is my brother, Pilar-Shay. My name is Syoney-Maj. Who are you?"
"Anneliese. Anneliese Thielman."
Syoney's eyes widened. “You must be important, to be thrice named. Tell me, why have you joined the forage? Are you hiding from someone?"
Anneliese looked away. “If I was, I would not confess the fact to a guttersnipe."
She watched the wagon—already it was a fair distance away, shimmering like a mirage in the heat. She should be running in the opposite direction. She'd never have a better chance to escape. If it weren't for this girl and her witless brother....
Syoney shrugged against the growing silence. “Do not concern yourself, Anneliese-Anneliese. No one hears the tales of a child. And even if asked, I would not answer. I have my own scars."
Gathering her robes, the girl strode away. Pilar moved close to Anneliese, making soft noises in his throat and shifting his weight. Sliding back his goggles, he peered at her, blinking like an owl.
As if he knew her plan and was determined to stop her, Anneliese thought. She glanced back at the Resort, the rapidly setting sun. Very well. She would wait until the child tired of her and turned his attention elsewhere. Then she would return to the city, and nothing would keep her from finding Cade.
Syoney walked briskly and did not acknowledge their presence as Anneliese and Pilar caught up to her. Anneliese felt uncomfortable, aware that she had offended the girl, and cast sidelong glances in her direction.
At last, Anneliese said, “You speak well. I can hear how much you've practiced."
Syoney snorted. “And you speak with the voice of a girl. You, with your shorn hair and common robes. Perhaps you sought to avoid attention, and if so, you are your own folly. Lirtsban prefers boys."
Anneliese frowned. Lirtsban? “The man in the wagon!” she cried with a flash of insight.
Shock crossed Syoney's face. “He is Lirtsban-Teralgo-Pas, a most skillful mehtar. Once he brought back a piece of malpais longer than my arm. You do not know of this?"
"All I know is he preys on young children. Odious slaver."
"No, Anneliese-Anneliese. We are not the Llaird. Lirtsban is my employer. Among the mehtar, he pays his followers the most."
Anneliese paused. A businessman? She traced the shadowed wagon with her eyes. Of all the subtleties of this culture, here was something she could understand. “I see why you admire him."
Syoney looked away, and when she spoke again, her voice was distant. “I hate him. Would that I could cut out his heart. He treats us like ... naplaugh, the non-person. And I see how he notices my brother."
The girl grew silent. Anneliese considered her profile through the gathering dusk. She was a handsome child, in spite of her eyes. Nearly the same height as Anneliese. How old was she? Perhaps thirteen? Too young to have a dependent in her charge.
"Syoney, you said your mother was dead,” Anneliese said. “To whom did you speak Standard after she passed?"
"To Pilar, of course."
And in perfect, unaccented Standard, Pilar said, “Good evening, Miss Thielman. Glorious weather, don't you agree?"
>
Anneliese stared, mouth agape, then burst into laughter. What a pair they are, she thought: a child who speaks like an adult, and an idiot who speaks like a genius.
Syoney smiled tentatively, and on impulse, Anneliese hugged her thin shoulders. Arm in arm, they followed the shrinking wagon.
Streaks of indigo split the darkening sky. Shadow shrouded the rock. Anneliese walked gingerly over patches of loose shale, the heavy goggles accenting the encroaching night.
Long slopes grew from the once level land. Ahead, the wagon slowed, a shapeless mass in the twilight, and the children rallied behind it, pushing the wheeled contrivance up the hill. Anneliese heard Lirtsban shouting encouragement. Then, she heard what sounded remarkably like thunder.
"What was that?” she whispered.
"The fire plains,” Syoney said. “There we will harvest the finest malpais."
"Wonderful.” Anneliese squinted through the dark glass, searching the horizon.
"Perhaps you should remove your eyewear."
"I can't. I am not like you. I don't want the others to realize."
Syoney laughed lightly. “I am certain the others already know. Tell me, what is it like in the Resort? Is it as beautiful as my mother said?"
Anneliese hesitated, sifting through words. “It's filled with waterfalls and flowers."
"Waterfalls?"
"Ribbons of water that crash into pools."
Syoney's eyes took on a far away cast. “So wondrous a place. Why is it that you wanted to leave?"
"What makes you think I did?” Anneliese said.
"Always, there have been stories about those like you, rich and unhappy, wanting ... Once, much time ago, a woman of the Resort paid to be placed in the debtors’ pen. I worked there then, raking boxes. I've always wished I'd had the courage to speak with her."
Anneliese felt a twinge of resentment. Is that what these people thought of her—yet another outsider, hiding out, looking for thrills? She thought of the gaoler bathing her bruised face with his tonic. Had he also thought she was there on a lark?
They caught up to the wagon just as Lirtsban called a halt. Anneliese pushed past the boys in the food line. When handed her share of stegort, she shoved the entire piece in her mouth, stifling a gag. The tall boy glared, and she stared at him until he looked away.
Night settled, parched and sullen. Its silence was unnerving—no chirrup of insects, no wind. Anneliese moved away from the group, chewing the dried meat, arms wrapped tightly about her chest. The stars shone more brilliantly than she'd imagined possible. A large crescent rose over the horizon: Sikar, the hunter moon, her husband's spectral voice teased.
She ached with the memory. How she longed to be with Cade, to wrap herself in his arms and listen to his stories. Somehow, she would find her way back to him.
Self-doubt dogged her resolve.
"I think your Akh must be riddled with wounds, that you should worry them so.” Syoney sat beside her.
Anneliese pulled the goggles down around her neck. “It's nothing. I was just...."
"Pilar!” Syoney called. “Pilar, ahkee noij’ glecknal! What do you mean by wandering away? You know my thoughts."
Pilar appeared from darkness. His large head bobbed and his chin lay against his chest. Syoney grabbed his robe, pulling him roughly to the ground.
"I am sorry, my friend,” the girl said. “You were speaking?"
Anneliese squirmed at the word friend. “Forget it. Tell me about our companions."
Syoney motioned toward the boy who had stolen Anneliese's boots. “That one is Aloca-Coc. He covets Lirtsban's attentions and, indeed, when he was younger, he held the mehtar's eye. But even Aloca must someday grow old.” She shrugged then nodded again. “The other two are brothers. One is never without his sib. They have made no finds their last two outings, and I am sure they fret for their jobs. Of the girl, I know nothing, although I have worked with her many times before. She never speaks. Perhaps her Akh is as scarred as yours.” Syoney showed a sidelong smile, drawing a chuckle from Anneliese.
Starlight outlined the rocks in stark relief. Anneliese stretched her stone-weary legs, felt the bulge of bread still tucked into her sash. Guilt swept over her, accusing her of selfishness, keeping secrets from the girl who called her friend. But she would need all her resources if she were to get back to the city. She pulled her robe tight.
"It's quiet here,” said Anneliese. “Peaceful in a way. I would think we would see other expeditions coming and going, each beating a path to the finest malpais."
"Not many brave the threat of the Llaird,” said Syoney. “They'd slit our throats if they found us in the open. And the plains are a danger unto themselves. However, we are a hardy crew...."
"Foolhardy,” Pilar put in.
Syoney jostled him with her foot. She turned toward Anneliese, her eyes catching the starlight, mimicking the twin moons. “But you need not fear, Anneliese-Anneliese. I will help you. Stay close to me."
Anneliese shuddered with the girl's tone. With any luck, she would escape before they reached the plains. She ran her gaze over the silvered vista.
Lirtsban motioned Aloca to the harness, then ranged ahead as if he expected pitfalls to open before him. The children rose obediently, positioning themselves around the wagon, rocking the wheels to set them moving. Anneliese took up post at the rear of the contrivance, head bowed to the task of pushing the unwieldy cart. After a time, another volley of thunder met her ears. Anneliese sucked in her breath, staring.
The horizon glowed with blood red light, pulsing as if with a heartbeat. Anneliese felt at once thrilled and aghast.
Syoney moved close. “The plains are in constant motion,” she whispered, “the rock splitting open, healing once again. Accustom yourself to the sound before the thunder."
A lava field, thought Anneliese. She looked toward Lirtsban. The large man guided the group onward. What sort of fool took a pack of children....
Suddenly, the ground shifted beneath her feet. Anneliese gasped, rising on tiptoe to escape the sensation. She heard a high-pitched whine then another growl of thunder. Frowning, she replayed the sound in her mind.
Lirtsban shouted to them, goading them forward, his silhouette black against the red light. Aloca strained against the harness, slipping and falling upon the rough rock. Anneliese imagined blood welling along his stick-thin legs. All hatred of him melted away.
She closed her eyes. I don't want to be here, she prayed urgently. I wish I'd listened to Father, wish I'd never met Cade.
Then a comforting hand fell upon her shoulder. Syoney. In a rush, the girl's words came back to Anneliese—you need not fear, I will help you. Reaching across, Anneliese rested her fingers upon her friend's hand. Syoney smiled.
Sulfurous fumes permeated the air as they neared the fire plains. Jagged crevices crisscrossed the black rock, and light streamed upward as if trying to flee. Trepidation swelled within Anneliese. She slumped against the side of the wagon as it rolled to a stop. Beside her, Pilar hummed, rocking from foot to foot. Tucking his robe between his legs, the child strode onto the cooled lava.
"We must follow,” Syoney whispered. “Pilar knows the way."
Anneliese stared at her with growing horror. She looked back at Lirtsban. The mehtar sat upon the ground, his dark cigarette glowing like an ember. He held a stoneware jug between his knees. Ale, she thought, and imagined staying behind with a drunken man.
She followed Syoney onto the flats. Heat curled about the edges of her sandals. Smoke wove through the air. Ahead, the idiot child marched as if on parade. Anneliese took a stinging breath. Her eyes watered. She turned at the sound of voices: Aloca arguing with his followers. The tall boy stormed off in another direction.
Then Anneliese heard a trilling whine. A tremble ran through the ground. Syoney held up her hand, and as Anneliese leaned forward to question her, steam erupted from the rock before them. Magma leapt from the breech, hanging for a moment before collapsing.
&
nbsp; Anneliese held her ears against crushing thunder. She felt as if fingers were closing about her throat. “How could you tell?” she stammered. “How did you know where the eruption would be?"
"I listen to the sound the rock makes before breaking,” Syoney said, “track the direction the quake takes beneath my feet. You must be ever vigilant, lest the ground open beneath you."
Anneliese nodded. Ahead, the stone sizzled and hissed, sealing itself. “Is that malpais?"
Syoney laughed. “No. Malpais comes from the heart of our planet. That was but a sneeze."
They continued in the direction Pilar had taken. Anneliese squinted in the red glare. The rock lay in eddies and currents, as if she walked upon an ancient river of once fluid stone, and she wondered how deeply she'd have to cut before she found that river again.
"Hurry,” Syoney whispered. “Pilar signals for us."
"You act as if he has a better chance than you of finding anything of value."
"Oddly, it is one of his gifts—he senses the land. And he remembers...."
They found the idiot boy leaping on all fours, oblivious to the heat. His sister crouched over a small outcropping of rock, brushing the silt away. The stone looked like a hand reaching upward, the fingers gnarled in defiance.
Syoney looked up, her face beatific. “It's a good find."
Anneliese's heart leapt in response. Malpais. She knelt beside the girl. Words crowded her memory: Cade saying the stone had value but the quality had diminished, Surah avowing that she would give her left eye.
"How can I help you?” Anneliese asked.
"Warn me if anyone approaches."
With rocks and bare fingers, Syoney dug at the stone, following the vein. Anneliese got to her feet, eyes tracing the surrounded area. Streamers of red outlined the night. Starlight formed a canopy. A short distance away, Syoney's brother lay flat on his back, chest heaving, his hair plastered to his forehead.
"Now we shall see the face of the thief,” Syoney muttered as she worked.
"Aloca?"
"No. Lirtsban. He would not give full credit for my last find, called it mongrel stock, and then sold it at a fine profit. He will not pass this off so neatly."
Resort Debauch Page 10
