The Knights of the Black Earth
Page 13
“Number two. In your mind, you have already judged, tried, and convicted your former friend and partner. This Rowan must die. He—or she, as the case may be—deserves death. That is what you have decided and this decision is unalterable.”
Xris removed the twist. “Yes.”
“Then let me kill her,” Raoul said softly.
Xris shook his head. Dropping the twist, he ground it beneath the heel of his steel leg.
“A mistake.” Raoul sighed a delicate sigh. “You are not a killer, Xris Cyborg. Not a killer in cold blood, like myself. I have no conscience—thank the maker of pharmaceuticals—but you do. It would be far easier and far safer for the team if I were to be Rowan’s executioner.”
Again Xris shook his head. “I need to have a little talk with Dalin Rowan.”
“Talk!” Raoul was impatient. “Recall the dictum of the late Warlord Derek Sagan. ‘Do not talk—shoot!’ It was a saying of which he was very fond and which kept him alive far longer than one might have considered possible under the circumstances. You put us all in jeopardy, my friend.”
“You can always walk, Loti. You and the sponge.”
The fedora—the hat was now all Xris could see of the Little One—quivered.
Raoul’s eyes began to shimmer. “How can you say that? We are your friends, Xris Cyborg.”
A tear trickled down the rouged cheek.
“Now, don’t start crying,” Xris said, exasperated. “You’ll ruin your makeup. Your nose will swell. You can’t go out of here looking like that.”
“I don’t care,” Raoul returned with unexpected passion. He grasped hold of Xris’s good arm. “Tell me you will at least consider what we have said.”
Startled by the Loti’s unusual outburst—Raoul was generally placidity personified—Xris gently removed the bejeweled hand.
“I’ll consider it,” he promised. “Now I’m going to give you your orders. Do you think you’re calm enough to handle them?”
Raoul removed a lace-trimmed handkerchief from his purse, dabbed carefully at his eyes. “Yes, Xris Cyborg. I am once more in control of myself.”
Whatever that means. Aloud, Xris continued, “You’ll be traveling to Olicien Pest Control corporate headquarters—”
“Is this when I’m a salesman, wearing coveralls?”
“No. This is before you’re a salesman. This is how you get to be a salesman. First, you have to find out all you can about the Olicien Pest Control Company and how they operate. You are the representative for a company who owns floating platforms—”
“Where do they float?” Raoul asked in a muffled voice, blowing his nose.
“In space,” Xris said with elaborate patience. “Your company is having a pest problem and your platforms need servicing. The Olicien people will say, ‘Certainly. Only too pleased.’ They will then provide you with the location of the franchise which services space stations, tell you to contact them directly. This will be the franchise which services RFComSec. They have only one. You will ask for a tour of this franchise, mentioning that several other members of the corporation will be joining you.”
“Ah, I see!” Raoul smiled.
Xris thought it just as well to make certain. “This Olicien Pest Control Company has franchises in every major city on Alinus Misk. Only one of them devotes itself to outer space work. You’re going to find out which one and arrange for us to get inside. Once there, we do a quick, quiet takeover, hijack their vessel, and that’s that. Understand?”
Raoul fluttered the handkerchief. “Of course.”
“Use commercial transport. Anything else would look suspicious. I’ll take you back with me to Alpha Gamma. You can leave from there. Maintain contact. You know the routine.”
“Very well, Xris Cyborg. The Olicien Company on Alinus Misk. The bug place sounds perfectly ghastly. But we will be there.”
“I know you will. And listen.” Xris paused a moment, then said quietly, “I won’t let the team down. I’ll do what I have to do.”
Raoul shrugged, smiled his euphoric smile as though he hadn’t a care in the universe. “Time will tell, won’t it, Xris Cyborg?”
Shepherding the Little One, who had relaxed considerably, the Loti headed for the door. Xris was quick to hit the controls, open it.
“One last question.” Raoul teetered on the threshold.
Xris remained patient. A glitch in his system was the probable cause of the fingers on his metal hand clenching. “What?”
“About those coveralls—”
“Yes. You have to wear them.” Xris gave the Loti a push, shut the door.
Left alone, the cyborg returned to the table to pack up the holographic equipment. He deleted the image of the space station, was about to shut down the power when, on impulse, he touched a control, brought up another holograph.
A man. Dalin Rowan.
Xris had taken Darlene Mohini’s photograph, fed it into the computer, made a few changes, and found his friend. At that point, he’d begun to believe.
“Why did you do it?” he asked the silent image. “Set us up for the kill? I just need to know why!”
A red light above the clock began to flash. A female voice advised Xris politely that his time was up. Other clients were waiting for the room. The door slid open and would not shut again— management’s way of saying it was time to leave.
Xris killed the image, packed up his equipment, and left.
Chapter 11
So if you know the place and time of battle, you can join the fight from a thousand miles away.
Sun Tzu, The Art of War
“Sir, Knight Commander has received your message. He is on the comm.”
The officer nodded in silence, retired to his private quarters.
“Knight Commander. The circulation of the descriptions of the Loti and the empath known as Raoul and the Little One has produced results. At twenty-two hundred yesterday, SMT, a member of our order observed the two of them in the Exile Cafe. The cyborg Xris was also present. The three left together in the cyborg’s spaceplane.”
“Where is the Loti now?”
“We are unable to ascertain, Knight Commander. Their plane made the jump to hyperspace.”
“If one of our knights had this Loti under observation, why didn’t he capture him?”
“They were inside the Exile Cafe at the time, Knight Commander. No violence is permitted. The rules are very strict on that point and are rigidly enforced. Besides, the cyborg was with him and the cyborg is a formidable opponent.”
The Knight Commander appeared to consider this. “True.
Well, there will be another time. God will deliver him into our hands.”
“Assuredly, sir. And this does provide us with conclusive proof that the Loti is part of the cyborg’s mercenary team.”
“I had reached the same conclusion. I have received information that this team was involved in secret dealings with Her Majesty the Queen on the woman’s pagan, Goddess-worshiping planet of Ceres. The Loti, Raoul, and the empath known as the Little One traveled to the planet on commercial transport. I obtained records of their entry. I am transmitting these to you now. Since we lost him at the Exile Cafe, these might be useful in tracking him down.”
The officer waited in silence for the files. The Knight Commander continued talking.
“It is quite probable that the Loti has a number of passports registered to him under various aliases. This time, as you see, he used his real name—if Raoul is his real name—and listed his planet of origin as Adonia. The Little One probably uses the same passport every time, since he has been granted ‘mixed breed’ status. Planet of origin is listed as ‘unknown.’
“My guess is that these two were involved in the inexplicable illness and subsequent sudden disappearance of the wife of the President of Modena. Eyewitness accounts put the two at the reception during which Madame President fell ill. The two left before we could send a squad to capture the Loti, and at that point we lost them.”
“Excellent. We must be patient, however. Wait for them to split up. As you say, the cyborg Xris is a formidable foe. Not only that, he has friends in the highest places. We do not yet want to call undue attention to ourselves. Therefore, do not attempt to apprehend the Loti in the cyborg’s presence. There will come a time when this Raoul and his small companion are alone. Strike then.”
“Yes, Knight Commander.”
“Contact me immediately when you have effected the Loti’s capture. Any questions?”
“Yes, sir. What are we to do with the creature known as the Little One?”
“He is of no use to us. Kill him.”
Chapter 12
In battle, confrontation is done directly, victory is gained by surprise.
Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Christy’s Cracked Egg Restaurant was large, crowded—especially for this early in the morning. According to Xris’s research, the all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet was extremely popular, attracting large numbers of people—ideal for Xris’s purpose. When he entered, no one even glanced twice at the cyborg. Dressed in a business suit that covered his mechanical limbs, a sun visor hiding his cybernetic eye, and a foam-flesh and plastiskin cosmetic hand attached to his arm, Xris looked the part of an Aurigan executive.
Having informed the ‘bot who steered him to his table that there would be four joining him, Xris loaded his plate with the local fare and sat down to eat and wait.
Tycho was next to arrive. The tall, skinny alien did attract a few curious stares, but the customers soon returned to their meals, having more interest in Aurigan mush—considered a delicacy. Located on one of the major trade routes, the capital city of Auriga was home to a large intergalactic population. Not much surprised the citizens of Auriga.
Tycho located Xris, sat down.
“Steer clear of the mush,” Xris advised in a low voice.
A vegetarian, Tycho gave the mush a look, grimaced, and told the ‘bot he would be having only carrot juice.
“Any trouble with the weapons?” Xris asked.
It was not necessary to keep his voice down. A cheerful people, Aurigans enjoyed talking—the louder, the better. Consequently, the restaurant was a din of noise, with every Aurigan in the place shouting shrilly and gleefully at every other Aurigan. Xris had turned his hearing down to the bare minimum necessary and still the row was deafening.
Tycho shook his head. His long-fingered hand could have wrapped twice around the glass of juice. He sipped at it. “No problems. I expected none. So long as I do not bring the rifle on board the spacecraft with me, I am rarely stopped. After all, it looks the same as any other beam rifle. I carry the duonamic sights hidden on my person in a shielded case.”
Xris nodded. Duonamic sights were the hallmark of the professional assassin and were illegal in most parts of the galaxy. With those sights, which detected any form of radiation from heat to light, as well as Doppler movement, Tycho could not only see through walls, he could shoot the person standing on the other side.
“There won’t be any need for gun play,” Xris said. “It’s going to go smooth. I’m feeling lucky. I’m due this.”
Tycho looked at him strangely. “It’s well to be prepared. Better safe than sitting in your canoe without a paddle.”
Xris could feel another lecture coming on, wasn’t in the mood; and so he didn’t respond. He ate his mush more for the sake of putting food into his body than because he was hungry. He was too tense, too wired to be hungry. What he truly wanted was a twist, but smoking was forbidden in the dining establishment. He went back to the original subject.
“Where did you leave the rifle?”
“In the hovervan. Harry’s parking it now. I met him and Quong outside. The Doc had to go powder his nose. They should both be here any minute.”
“They’re here now.”
Standing in the entrance, partially blocking it with his large body, Harry was scanning the crowd. Tycho waved his long arm. Quong emerged from the bathroom and the two joined the rest of the team. Harry left immediately to fill his plate at the buffet table. Quong selected fruit and cereal. Returning to the table, he eyed Xris in concern.
“Are you feeling well?”
There were times, Xris decided, when having your own private medic was a distinct disadvantage.
“Yeah, Doc, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look it.” Quong was blunt. “I’d like to run a systems analysis—”
“I said I’m fine. Just a little keyed up, that’s all. Adrenaline pumping.”
Xris took out a twist. “I’m not going to smoke it,” he informed the waiter ‘bot, who had located and zeroed in on the forbidden object with the speed of a sublight torpedo.
The ‘bot continued to lurk about, obviously convinced that Xris was going to light up the moment its electronic eye was turned, and finally Xris gave up and put the twist away. The ‘bot retreated and Harry came back with two plates.
“Fried meat, fried potatoes, eggs. You’re going to need a heart replacement before you’re forty,” Quong observed testily.
“Sure, Doc.” Harry was unperturbed. “Good thing I’ve got you around to take care of me.”
“Not when you abuse your system like that. Besides, of what use is a new heart if the arteries leading to it are clogged? I am fifty years old and in far better physical condition....”
The argument went on, as it did almost every time the two sat down for a meal together. The discussion about cholesterol levels flowed around Xris. He found it irritating, had to bite off a snide comment.
Fortunately, Jamil had just entered. Xris waved to his friend, who was looking extraordinarily handsome in his expensive business suit. As he passed through the restaurant, several women, with typical Aurigan forthrightness, yelled at him to join them. Jamil smiled, made polite responses, and sat down beside Xris.
“Breakfast?” Xris asked.
“The food’s not bad,” Harry mumbled, his mouth full.
“I’ve eaten already,” Jamil answered, adding casually, “She makes a great omelette.”
Harry gulped, swallowed. “She? How the hell do you manage? You just got here last night!”
“He keeps himself in excellent physical condition,” Quong intoned. “Women appreciate that.”
“Fine, then.” Xris interrupted what was likely to be either an argument about clogged arteries or a discussion of Jamil’s sex life. “Harry, did you check in with Raoul and the Little One last night?”
“Yeah.” Harry nodded. “I met the Loti in the bar of the fancy hotel he’s staying in. Olicien’s putting them up in style.”
“Did Raoul manage to get a layout of the Olicien place?”
Harry patted his suit pocket. “I’ve got the diagram here. Raoul paid them a visit yesterday. The bug people gave him a personal tour and took him to dinner. Adonian charm, you know. The franchise is family-owned, small. This RFComSec contract is their biggest account and, since they’ve got the equipment to service space stations, they’re eager to land others like it. Oh, and by the way”— Harry winked—”as far as they’re concerned, RFComSec is a Naval ‘refitting and maintenance station.’ “
“That’s what they’ve been told to say, obviously. Does Raoul think the Olicien people know the truth?”
“Not a chance. Oh, they know it’s a Naval base—”
“All the people running around in uniforms would probably tip them off,” Xris said dryly.
Harry grinned. “Yeah. According to the Little One, no one at Olicien has the least suspicion that they’re dealing with anything as big as a top-secret naval base. Not even the personnel who go up there. The empath gave them the once-over. To them, the space station’s nothing more than a floating body-repair
shop.”
“What’s the timetable?” Jamil asked, preparing to set his chronometer.
“It’s oh-eight-hundred now. We travel there, get ourselves into position by oh-nine-hundred, which is when you and Harry are supposed to meet Raoul at the Olicien HQ.” Xris looked at Harry, who confirmed.
“I went over that with Raoul last night. He says it’s all fixed up. Jamil and I are high-level company executives. He’s arranged for us to meet with their manager at oh-nine-hundred.”
“Fine. The spaceplane with the exterminators on board leaves the Olicien grounds at ten hundred. The exterminators are scheduled to arrive at the space station at thirteen hundred.”
“Three hours?” Harry was impressed. “They must have hyperdrive.”
“They do,” Xris said. “I took a look at the plane yesterday, spent some time chatting with one of the mechanics. Said I was looking for work. The plane—”
“You short of credits, Xris?” Harry asked anxiously. “ ‘Cause I’d be happy to loan you a few.”
Xris scratched his forehead. Harry was a good fighter, an excellent pilot, and the best hovercraft driver in the business. But, over the years, the big man had taken one too many stun-blasts to the head.
“No, Harry.” Xris was patient. “I’m not. But thanks anyway. We’re dealing with your standard light-cargo spaceplane, with a few major exceptions. These include hyperspace capability and an XP-28 computer upgrade.”
“Compliments of the Royal Navy, no doubt. Your tax dollars at work, gentlemen,” Tycho muttered through his translator.
“The Olicien plane’s crew never deviates from their time schedule,” Xris continued, “so neither can we. They’ve got a thirty-minute window to make their landing on the space station or the trip’s scrubbed for the day, rescheduled. Security reasons, obviously. RFComSec wants the exterminators there when the place is quiet—which suits us fine.”
“I am all in favor of quiet,” Quong agreed.
“Raoul and the Little One join us at the Olicien plant at oh-nine-hundred. That gives Quong and Tycho and me an hour to hijack the plane, load all the equipment. Plenty of time, even if something goes wrong, which it won’t.”