"You can deliver it to Kernopplix at once," he said.
Darzek reflected. "No," he said. "Tomorrow will be soon enough.
Or the day after."
Forlan gestured indifferently. "Whatever you think best." Clearly the matter of solvency transfers was of no concern to him. Darzek did not tell him that Kernopplix might as well become accustomed to delays, because he was going to encounter a lot of them. Also, Darzek wanted to go to Zarst.
But first he went to see the fabricator from whom Kernopplix had ordered custom-built cargo and passenger compartments. With him he took the elderly transmitter expert. The company's director was overwhelmed at receiving a visit from a special emissary of Supreme, and Darzek had no difficulty in arranging for his transmitter expert to make several secret modifications that Kernopplix's plans did not call for.
When he returned to the Trans-Star office, the copy of the nuclear experiment plans was waiting for him. Darzek went immediately to Zarst and had no difficulty in talking his way past the receptionist, who now knew him and regarded him with blended awe and resentment. Raf Lolln was at work in a lab with Zarstan scientists, and he greeted Darzek cordially. All of the scientists seemed astonished at the fate of the eleventh planet; and, as Darzek expected, his account of Forlan's ill-fated experiment convulsed them.
He spread his copy of the plans on a worktable. "A small job for you," he said, speaking to Raf Lolln but addressing the whole group. "Figure out where they went wrong."
He left them crowded around the table.
He waited two days before he went to see Kernopplix. He already had transferred the balance of the requested solvency, and Kernopplix cheerfully met him with a certificate for Darzek's commission. "Since you were able to obtain approval of my estimates, it's the full 10 per cent," Kernopplix pointed out. "A nice sum, but I'm sure you earned it."
"Thank you," Darzek said. "I'll put it to good use."
Kernopplix responded with an abdominal rumble that Darzek interpreted as a giggle.
"I assume that you'll want to supervise the loading of the compartments yourself, as soon as they're completed," Darzek said.
"Of course. That already has been specified." "And I shall have to be present."
Kernopplix's suddenly rigid sensory organs registered astonishment.
"Since the compartments were financed by the government for a specific purpose, I must certify that they actually were loaded into the ship for which they were purchased. How the loading is arranged is of course your prerogative."
"I see. As long as you are merely an observer -"
"An observer with invoices," Darzek said, "checking off each item as it is placed aboard."
Kernopplix said thoughtfully, "As you say, the government paid for the compartments and everything that goes into them, and it has a proper interest in seeing that they reach their destination." Obviously he was not convinced.
"If you were to load them, or part of them, or part of the requisitioned supplies into another ship, then your employer could accuse the government of not carrying out his instructions," Darzek pointed out. "My inspection protects you as well as the government of Vezpro. I shall of course make my certifications in triplicate, so that you can have a copy."
Kernopplix's voice brightened. "That is thoughtful of you. Now I understand. Yes, it is appropriate that the loading be inspected. What are the third copies for?"
"Manufacturers and suppliers," Darzek said. "For them, it will be a receipt. Everyone concerned should be protected, and the proper fulfillment of your employer's instructions has been made my responsibility as well as yours. When all is completed, we will have to make a joint certification that the instructions have been carried out - you, for your employer, and I, for the government of Vezpro, with copies to each."
"I have no means of communicating with my employer, but such a certification could be useful in the event of some question arising later. Your caution does you credit."
"Sometimes," Darzek said, "it even surprises me."
14
Miss Schlupe had established a secret commando camp for her three hundred young Vezpronian females. She was teaching them all the techniques of unarmed mayhem that she knew, and her knowledge was considerable.
Darzek, stopping by to watch them practice, studied their baldheaded, triple-armed and -legged appearances for a time and then asked, "Who was it who selected these specimens for their beauty?"
"Some Vezpronian males. If they don't know, who does?" "How is it going?"
"The problem is, we don't know what sort of life forms they'll have to contend with," Miss Schlupe said. "On the other hand, unarmed combat is an art that hasn't even been thought of here, so I think they'll make out all right. As a last resort, just before the balloon goes up, we might bring in an assortment of life forms for them to practice on."
"Good idea," Darzek said.
"Have you decided about weapons?"
"I'd feel better if they were armed. I think knives would be best.
They're easily concealed, they're silent, and we can make them ourselves."
"That's what I was thinking. Handguns, even if we had any, require a lot of practice, and even with practice most people can't learn to shoot straight."
"I'll find someone to make the knives," Darzek said. "Carryon, you're doing fine."
He took a last look around the camp: the neat row of huts where the recruits slept, the well-trampled training grounds, the mockup spaceship - as soon as Kernopplix's ship was outfitted, the mockup would be arranged as identically as possible so Miss Schlupe's charges could practice taking it over.
Things were shaping up very well indeed, Darzek thought, and he went off to watch Kernopplix load a spaceship.
Thanks to the transmitter, ships operating in deep space were hollow hulks except for their operation and service sections. There was no need for corridors and stairs and such superfluous paraphernalia. Passenger compartments were taken aboard as they were engaged and hooked up to power and ventilation connections. Freight compartments were loaded the same way; and in weightless space, tons of freight compartments could be safely stowed atop fragile passenger compartments. Any compartment, freight or passenger, was only a step away from any other, or from the passenger lounges or the control room, by transmitter.
Since compartments could be transmitted to and from a world's surface by specially designed transmitters, all ships docked at satellite transfer stations, and there was no need for a spaceship to come close enough to any world to have to contend with its gravity. Passengers normally transmitted up to the transfer station and embarked from there. Making a ship ready - which meant guiding the compartments about and stowing them aboard under conditions of zero gravity - could be tricky and time-consuming, as well as rather unsettling to anyone inside them, and it was much easier to step through a transmitter to the transfer station and then step aboard one's reserved compartment by way of another transmitter during an announced boarding period. Since the freight was less likely to complain about delays and rough handling, its compartments frequently were transmitted up to the station and maneuvered aboard ship already loaded.
Darzek encountered Kernopplix in the passenger lounge of the ransom ship, which by his specific instructions remained nameless. He had encountered a long series of frustrating delays, mainly because - as Darzek had patiently pointed out each time one happened - his custom-designed compartments required materials not commonly used, and these were sometimes hard to obtain. Eventually Darzek decided that he could stall no longer, and now the compartments and the ship were ready.
The elongated lounge was positively baroque in its lavish furnishings, and Kernopplix was inspecting it with evident satisfaction. "Very nice," he murmured, reaching a trio of spidery arms over the service counter for a bulb of fruit juice. The artificial gravity was set at minimum, so he pressurized the container and shot a stream of its contents into his mouth with slurping satisfaction.
"Something for you, Gul Darr?"
Darzek looked up from his stack of invoices. "I think," he said gravely, "that we're short one seating convenience. Oh - there it is, behind you."
Kernopplix had pirouetted in alarm. "No, no," he assured Darzek.
"Everything is precisely as specified. I inspected it at the factory."
"Someone could have removed it between there and here," Darzek said. "But don't worry - I'll check everything." Then, belatedly answering Kernopplix's question, "Yes, I'll have the same. I doubt that any complications will arise if the ship is short a few servings of food."
Kernopplix regarded him uneasily. Then he filled a pressurized container and passed it to Darzek, who shot a well-measured gulp into his own mouth, swallowed, and murmured, "Thank you. When do the compartments begin to arrive?"
A thump overhead answered him.
"How do you wish to inspect them?" Kernopplix asked. "As they are stowed, or all at once, afterward?"
"As they are stowed," Darzek said. "I want to check the transmitters "and then the furnishings. Why don't we inspect them together?"
"Indeed, that's a good thought," Kernopplix observed. "That should save time for both of us. We'll inspect each compartment as soon as its connections are completed."
The examination of three hundred passenger compartments, with the freight compartments and their supplies to follow, could only be a long and tedious task. Darzek's problem was to make it last as long as possible without his delaying tactics becoming obvious. He was still fighting for time, still hopeful that one of his investigations would turn up something.
As each compartment became habitable, with its air and heating connections functioning, they entered it by way of the lounge's transmitter. Darzek immediately inserted a test meter into the inspection slot to check the compartment's emergency power supply. Kernopplix had not thought of this, and he congratulated Darzek - who did not tell him what else he was testing. Darzek also located, amidst the compartment's elaborate ornamentation, a concealed number, and he entered it on his chart. Later, each of Miss Schlupe's commandos would memorize that chart. Those selected as victims would know where they were in the ship the moment they entered their compartments.
Kernopplix's enthusiasm increased as Darzek meticulously checked service transmitters, artificial gravity controls, and inventories, and noted an occasional missing item. The manufacturers had committed the minor oversights common to rush orders, and Kernopplix sent off an indignant message each time they turned up one. Darzek, pausing in his labors to contemplate the plush luxury of these compartments, found it awesome. He had traveled extensively, in all kinds of ships, but never in surroundings such as this. He wondered how Kernopplix would go about selecting occupants for these sumptuous quarters. Surely the spidery alien's eye for Vezpronian beauty was no more practiced than Darzek's.
The two of them put in a long day's work, adjourned for a rest period, and then worked again - and they were inspecting only a dozen compartments a day. Kernopplix at first complained about the slow pace, but as Darzek kept turning up missing items, the spidery trader stopped protesting and began to assist enthusiastically. In order to nurture that cooperation, Darzek returned to the transfer station at night and removed items from compartments they had not inspected, and the innocent fabricator was the recipient of daily tirades from Kernopplix on the sloppiness of his work.
Each day Darzek prolonged the inspection was precious time gained. Miss Schlupe's squad of investigators had spread around the planet, looking for clues, looking for Qwasrolk, trying to trace the whereabouts of the missing nuclear experts. Melris Angoz had exhausted the resources of the Vezpronian computer as concerned Forlan's scientific committee, but she had sent requests for information to other worlds, and while she waited for it she was reconstructing the economy of a dozen or more sectors of space without Vezpro.
And old E-Wusk had arrived. He listened to the task Darzek had for him - the probably impossible tracing of the ransom ship to its destination - and responding with a resounding, "Oh, hot Gul Darr never asks for anything simple!" Gurgling with laughter, he established his headquarters in rooms adjoining those of the Trans-Star Trading Company that Raf Lolln had vacated when he moved to Zarst. He plastered the walls with charts of the galaxy, and with his multiple, telescoping limbs began to draw circles on them and make calculations. As fast as his circles and calculations could be resolved into coordinates, he began to dispatch ships.
It was impossible to track a ship through its transmitting leaps, when it became a transmitter that transmitted itself through space; but between leaps, secret equipment that an electronics engineer had installed for Darzek would be loudly proclaiming the ransom ship's position in a signal that could be picked up across the light-years by ships properly positioned and equipped. If all went as planned, and if E-Wusk had time to get enough ships on the stations he had selected, the ransom ship's track across the galaxy would be as clear as that of a herd of elephants stampeding through tall grass.
Days passed. Darzek, having stalled as long as was reasonably possible, turned the ship over to Kernopplix, whose bulging multiple eyes gleamed satisfaction as he thanked him with a spidery embrace.
"You have been most helpful, Gul Darr. It is easy to understand how you achieved your great reputation as a trader. Your meticulous attention to details amazes me!"
Darzek murmured a polite thanks.
"And now," Kernopplix said, with an air of apology, "there remains only the matter of the ... ah ... occupants for the passenger compartments and the agreed solvency certificates."
"Neither of those are my responsibility," Darzek said, "for which I am thankful."
"That I understand perfectly," Kernopplix said, affecting sympathy. "Still, someone must be responsible."
"That someone should have the necessary arrangements completed and will be in touch with you shortly. At least, I presume so."
"Splendid! Does this mean, Gul Darr, that we will not meet again?"
"Of course not. I'll look in occasionally to see how things are going, and if you encounter any kind of obstruction, please inform me immediately, and I will investigate and add my feeble powers of persuasion to yours."
"Together," Kernopplix said delightedly, "I am confident that we could move worlds."
"If we only succeed in moving the government of this one, that is a memorable accomplishment."
He left Kernopplix seized by rumbling giggles and returned to Vezpro to see how Miss Schlupe was making out. He found her instructing her students in a new three-armed judo technique that she had invented. In an adjoining room of the barnlike structure, a group of young Vezpronian females was practicing knife play on stuffed dummies shaped in a variety of life forms, some unfamiliar to Darzek. All had their most vulnerable areas clearly marked.
Darzek felt inclined to feel sorry for the villain and his cohorts.
He went off to report to Wolndur that Kernopplix would soon be demanding action on the ship's passenger component and the solvency, and that he was prepared to supply three hundred females that met the blackmailer's specifications. Hopefully, Kernopplix would not reject more than one out of three. The solvency was supposed to be the problem of the finance committee, and the certificates should be ready by now.
Wolndur assented woodenly. Forlan's special committee of scientists had turned its full attention to the eleventh planet, with no better results than those achieved in studying Nifron D. It was impossible to turn a rock heap into a sun; it had occurred. The thing all of them had dedicated themselves to prevent - the ransoming of their home world - also was occurring. He had the look of utter defeat.
He expressed the government's gratitude to Darzek for handling the recruitment of the females. That part of the villain's demands had been the most difficult for the government to face. If word had got out, young, patriotic females of good families would have insisted on volunteering, to the embarrassment of everyone. The femal
es Miss Schlupe had recruited came from anything but good families and were happy to obtain jobs with good pay, whatever the risk. It solved a touchy problem, and the masfiln's delegates had passed a resolution thanking Darzek for helping them out of an impossible situation.
A member of the finance council, Wolndur said, was responsible for the solvency transaction. Darzek wanted no last-minute complications upsetting his plans, so he went off to talk with him. He was a pompous individual named Hur Rarrl, and he seemed determined to treat the matter as an ordinary business arrangement, even if the business was highly irregular.
"A billion billion solvency units is a considerable number," he observed. "I find the entire procedure exceedingly questionable. Is it you who are accountable?"
"Hardly," Darzek said. "I thought I was assisting in carrying out a decision the finance council had already made. Am I to understand that there's anything irregular about these approved expenditures, or about the arrangements for the solvency certificates?"
"No. Nothing irregular. The finance council approved all of it. But a billion billion solvency units is a considerable number and in my opinion rashly granted."
It dawned on Darzek that the council was much more subtle than he had realized. He knew that various manipulations had provided certificates of solvency whose ultimate value was zero, though it would take the villain a number of transfer clearances - anyone of which might serve to identify him - and a considerable lapse of time to find that out. But the council had turned the handling of the transaction over to a member who obviously was a fool and therefore would be presumed honest. He thought it best not to ask more questions.
At the Trans-Star office, there was a message from Kernopplix complaining that his queries about the passengers and the solvency certificates were ignored. Darzek sent a return message, explaining that Kernopplix had been querying in the wrong places and he, Darzek, would take care of it. Kernopplix could expect his passengers on the morrow; the solvency certificates would be handed to him when the ship was ready to leave.
[Jan Darzek 05] - The Whirligig of Time Page 14
