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Chapter Six
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Bain said, trailing Rhiann through the door of the Gemar History Museum.
“If I stay on board the ship another hour, listening to Herin write and rewrite her report, I'll go stir crazy. Papa and all the older crew are so careful not to tell her what to do, but you can tell they're dying to offer advice and she's almost desperate for advice, but she knows what needs to be done, so she thinks she's failing Mother if she asks for help.” Rhiann clenched her fists, stopped short, and took three deep breaths. “I have to do something, Bain. You have to help me."
“I know.” He rested a hand on her shoulder and guided her out of the stream of traffic coming through the doorway behind them. “I just think maybe you should have worn something different.” Bain gestured at her gray uniform, marking her as a captain's daughter, but not yet trained for her duties.
“It's the only real protection I have. With all the fuss going around about Mother's death and the chance Leapers will leave the Commonwealth—"
“What if it's what they want?” he said, whispering hoarsely and leaning close so only she could hear. “You could be making yourself a target for whoever wants to drive Leapers out of this universe."
“Oh.” Rhiann went very pale. Bain thought for a moment she would collapse. Then she swallowed hard, shook her head, and reached out to lean against his shoulder. “Then if anyone tries anything, we might catch the guilty party, won't we?"
“Rhiann, do you want to get hurt?"
“No. But I have to do something to help."
“Is this a girl thing, or a Leaper thing?” He hooked his arm through hers and led her across the wide foyer of the museum, with the directory and map hanging in mid-air where everyone could see it.
“Girl thing?” A tiny smile cracked her somber, pale mask.
“You know, like hormones affecting how you think, or some kind of revenge or sacrifice idea."
“I don't know.” She gestured at a doorway to the far left. “That's where I want to go."
“Downfall history, huh?” Bain decided at least that decision made sense. He let Rhiann lead him through the door.
They had gone through this section of the museum before, the day of the attack and Captain Lorian's death. This time, they accessed every computer screen of information available at every display, and read all the background information no matter how far from their goal it seemed. Bain had his datapad clipped to his belt, and Rhiann had brought her own recorder for visual, audio and written notes. Bain also contacted Ganfer several times and asked for a more in-depth explanation than the history computers wanted to give.
At the end of three hours, they knew more details of what Gemar had gone through between the Downfall of First Civilization and the formation of the Conclave. Bain didn't know what that had to do with the movement to separate Gemar from the Commonwealth and rejoin it to the Conclave, but he was willing to admit he didn't know everything. Maybe Rhiann saw something in all that information, some clue, an idea that guided her investigation. There were many times he had faint, nebulous ideas but wasn't willing to talk about them with anyone until he had more facts.
“We're at a stopping point,” he said when they reached the end of the room and had to cross a hallway into the section that covered Gemar's membership in the Conclave. “Why don't we go get something to eat before we go on, all right?” He hooked his arm through Rhiann's when she hesitated. “Come on. I'm buying."
“I don't dare pass that up, do I?” she muttered. Then a smile broke through her scowling determination.
Bain led her up two flights of stairs to a wide landing area devoted to the food service court. The far wall was transparent, with several doors in it leading out to the balcony that offered a spreading view of the city, the bay waters and Balraji Island off in the distance. They took a table next to the transparent wall so they could look outside.
“We should go there.” Bain pointed at the island, a long, humped ellipse, black against the shimmering of noonday sun on the waters of the harbor.
“Why?” Rhiann barely glanced up from the tabletop menu. She ran her finger down the row of push buttons for placing their order. “Do you want to get small servings of different dishes and share them, so we can try lots of different things?"
“Sharing is fine. Haven't you heard about Megavissy Carnival on Balraji Island?"
“No. How about these garlic bread chips and spiced vegetable paste?"
“It's great. There are twenty levels, and each one has a different theme, a different world's culture they imitate, from the food to the clothes of the merchants to the entertainment and the wares they sell in the stores. It might be fun."
“It might.” Rhiann raised her gaze from the menu and glanced out over the harbor. “I think I did hear about it. Maybe Mother said...” She closed her eyes quickly, but Bain saw the first glimmer of threatening tears.
“We'll find out who's responsible, and why,” he promised, and rested his hand on hers for a moment. “Whatever it takes, however long it takes. Look at what Lin did, getting herself named the investigative tribunal. We're here until some answers come through."
“I know.” She tugged her hand free and knuckled her eyes dry. “Excuse me a minute. I have to—” Rhiann gestured towards the far side of the courtyard, where the facilities were discretely hidden down hallways. She stood and stepped away from the table.
“Have to what?” Then Bain understood a moment later, and shrugged. “Sorry."
“It's okay.” She managed a little more of a smile, and turned to go.
Just before she vanished down the hall leading to the sanitary, Bain felt a lurch in the pit of his stomach. He was a Scout, wasn't he? Rhiann, as a Leaper, could be in danger. Shouldn't he be guarding her, even if it wasn't necessary?
Bain almost kicked over his chair in his hurry to get up. He tried not to run, but he still felt people watching him scurry around the curve of the landing and toward the access hallway marked ‘public facilities'.
Two signs on the wall just inside the entrance to the hallway pointed left for the men's facilities, and right for the women's. Bain hesitated a moment, then hurried around the right corner. Three figures struggled in front of the women's doorway.
“Bain!” Rhiann screamed, and a hooded man slapped a hand over her mouth.
Another hooded man held Rhiann around her waist, her feet kicking wildly in the air nearly a meter off the floor. She wriggled and twisted, with her arms pinned and her body held at an angle that didn't allow her to kick either of her abductors.
Bain didn't waste time in yelling. He threw himself forward, hands clenched into fists. He could almost feel that first punch, and at the back of his mind he heard Jax's voice as the big bodyguard gave him self-defense lessons so long ago.
The first man slapped Rhiann, stunning her silent for a moment. He drew a dripping square of cloth from a pouch at his waist and slapped it over her face. She kicked and tried to scream through the muffling cloth, then abruptly went limp.
“Leave her alone!” Bain shouted as he reached them. He leaped, turning himself in mid-leap as if he were still in free-fall.
His boots connected sharply with the shoulder of the man holding Rhiann. The three went down in a heap. As Bain turned, struggling to his feet, someone clipped him hard across the back of his head. His legs folded and he scrambled to hold out his arms, to avoid smashing his face against the wall.
Gasping, fighting to see through the stars clouding his vision, Bain turned in time to see both men hurry through a door marked ‘museum staff only', right next to the door into the women's sanitary. He threw himself toward the door as it swung closed. He tripped over his own wobbly legs. The door thudded closed, punctuated by a loud double-click. Bain hit the door and yanked on the lever. It refused to open.
Computerized signal lock. It had to be, responding to signals from museum staff, controlled by the building's computer
and security system, because there was no slot for a card key or an old-fashioned key.
“Ganfer, can you open this door in front of me?” Bain demanded, tapping the connect button on his dollar link.
“Why do you need—"
“Someone grabbed Rhiann and they went through this door and it's locked. Please!” Bain looked over his shoulder, certain that his yelling and the sounds of the brief battle had attracted someone's attention.
No one moved in the hall behind him. He told himself to be grateful, even as he wished for some witnesses, someone to help him or offer advice of some kind.
His collar link vibrated. Bain thought he heard something, but it was so high-pitched and faint, he couldn't be sure.
“Try it now,” Ganfer said.
“Thanks,” he said as he reached out to yank down hard on the knob. The door swung open and Bain hurried through. “We're not going to get into trouble over this, are we?"
“Certainly not,” Lin said, entering the conversation. “I've just sent word to the peace forcers on duty in that area, letting them know what happened. Good thinking."
“I hope so.” He ran down a narrow, red-lit access tunnel that curved to the right and sloped down. Bain held out his arms to keep his balance. He had a sudden horrid vision of falling and tumbling into Rhiann and her captors. He wouldn't do her any good if he knocked himself out or broke a limb, would he?
He needed to be ten different places at once, Bain decided. Here in the tunnel, following Rhiann's captors. Somewhere outside, trying to find the place where the tunnel opened.
Pale blue light spilled into the tunnel and grew stronger as Bain curved around. After the dim red lighting of the access tunnel, it was almost blinding bright. Bain's foot hit flat tile flooring. He slowed his descent and grabbed onto the wall next to him to stop. With his heart thumping in his throat, Bain peered around the edge of the tunnel mouth.
“All clear,” a man said.
Blinking rapidly, Bain strained to see through the brightness in the long, narrow room. He stepped backwards and almost lost his footing when he saw the two hooded men who had taken Rhiann. Where was she?
The room was filled with shipping crates and tall, open cabinets full of tubs and barrels and boxes, and a long row of carts. Bain supposed they were in the maintenance depot under the museum.
He got down on his hands and knees and crept out into the room, using the shadow of a nearby crate to cover his movement. Looking around the other side, Bain saw the pile of thick green canvas where Rhiann lay in a heap. She looked all right from where he was. She looked too pale, and lay like a discarded doll with her arms and legs folded awkwardly. He had never seen her so still and quiet before, and he didn't like that.
“So far, so good,” the first man said. He yanked off his hood, smoothed his curly brown hair and grinned at his partner.
The second man took off his hood and jammed it into his pocket. He was taller, with coffee-colored skin and short-cropped silver hair. He didn't smile at his companion, but turned to look at Rhiann.
“How long will she be out?” He dropped to one knee next to her and pressed two fingers to the side of her throat, feeling for her pulse.
“Another hour at the most. Long enough to get to the lab.” The first man looked around, crossed the room. He vanished into shadows for a moment. There was a loud click, then a creaking sound, and light spilled into the room as a door swung open. “All clear outside. Ready?” he said, and stepped back into sight. He opened the front of his baggy one-piece suit and let it fall to the ground. Now he wore the tight brown uniform of a maintenance worker.
“In a minute.” The older man slid out of his costume, revealing a green sanitation worker uniform. Then he dropped back to his knees, tugged the canvas straight under Rhiann, and then rolled her up inside it.
Bain shook his head, impressed despite himself. It was such a simple plan, but smart. Who would look at two men carrying a roll of canvas, when the peace forcers were looking for a girl in a Leaper uniform?
They would know if he told them, though. Whispering, Bain quickly told Ganfer where he was, and described the men.
“Contact Arin and Trinia Cain, and tell them everything I just told you,” Bain said as he finished. “Tell them to watch all the avenues leading away from the museum. I want these guys followed, that's all. I don't think they're going to hurt Rhiann—” He stopped short when the two men finished rolling the unconscious girl in the canvas and stood, heaving her to rest on their shoulders. “They're moving out. Can you track me, Ganfer?"
“There is some difficulty. Audio signal helps,” the ship-brain responded.
“Talking all the time isn't too smart,” Lin said. “Check in every five minutes if you can. We'll make do with what we have at this end."
“Are the peace forcers alerted?” Bain asked.
“They're moving out. Good hunting, Scout Commander Kern."
“Yeah. Thanks,” he whispered, and moved out of his hiding place, to follow the two men.
The door opened onto a long ramp leading down from street level. From the amount of wheeled carts, collection bins and dismantled machinery, Bain supposed this was some kind of repair bay, as well as the entrance to the maintenance depot. He scurried from the shadows of one large vehicle or piece of machinery to another, always ready in case Rhiann's captors decided to look back to see if they were being followed.
They never looked back. Not even when they reached the top of the ramp and headed out into the foot traffic of the city in early afternoon.
Bain followed them down Founders Street, through the business district and past the tall buildings of blue-gray stone that held all the Commonwealth government offices. He didn't know whether to be impressed or irritated that they would dare carry their kidnapping victim through the city in broad daylight.
Then again, no one paid them any attention. Most of the commerce and traffic in the capital city was carried out on foot. There were underground passenger conveyance belts available at every other corner, for traveling longer distances than a few blocks of the city grid. Bain saw other people carrying rolls of cloth, long trays of machine parts, even pushing carts full of fresh fruit through the city. If not for the hover carts scurrying down the streets at odd moments, he could have believed he had been thrown back in time by several centuries, to an era without machines of any kind.
Then the two men turned. The one in brown glanced once over his shoulder. Bain froze, ready to see the man pull a gun. He wilted a little in relief when he realized he was well hidden behind a tall, wide-spreading clump of bushes at the street corner.
A hand touched his shoulder. Bain spun and ducked and flung up his arms, ready to ward off the first blow.
“Peace,” Trinia Cain hissed. She dropped to her knees and glanced around the bush. “Is that them?"
“Come on.” Bain got back to his feet and glanced around the bush. The men had vanished around the corner. He hurried out and grabbed hold of Trinia's hand at the same time.
“Where are they going?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
“I have no idea.” Then Bain grinned when he realized what had just happened. “That was good work."
“You told us what to look for.” She grinned back. “I don't see any peace forcers yet."
“I know.” He was about to complain about their lack of speed, when he realized he hadn't called in yet. It had nearly been seven minutes since he last checked with Ganfer. Bain did so as he and Trinia went around the corner.
There two men were only half a dozen meters ahead. They sauntered down the street as casually as if they belonged there, and had done nothing wrong. That made Bain angry. He wondered what would happen if he shouted to the people passing by that these men had kidnapped Rhiann. Would the men run, would they try to hurt Rhiann, or would they turn around and attack him and Trinia?
“There's lots of people around,” Trinia said, as if she had just read his thoughts.
“Would
they believe us? We don't have any weapons, and we're not natives."
“How can you tell? Everybody dresses differently here."
“We don't talk quite the same as everyone. They'd notice the first time we open our mouths."
The two men turned down another street, this time going left. Bain quickened his pace a little. Trinia followed.
“Besides, they would probably hurt Rhiann before anyone could react,” he added, as they stepped around the corner.
“I don't like this."
“Me neither.” Bain looked around at the squat, dirty-looking buildings. The roadway through this section of the city was littered with broken pavement, blown leaves and other dark blots he didn't want to investigate too closely.
“How could this be so close to the center of the city?” Trinia whispered.
Bain shook his head. He didn't want to waste time thinking of an answer. Then he pointed as the two men turned and approached the fourth building on the right. They lowered the roll of green canvas holding Rhiann. Bain winced when the roll slipped and dropped the last twenty centimeters.
“They're going inside. Ganfer, they've stopped.” Quickly, Bain related where they were. He couldn't see the name of the street anywhere, which didn't surprise him at all. He told the ship-brain how many streets they had gone down, turning which direction, and what the street looked like. Any peace forcer worthy of his uniform would recognize that street just from the description.
The question was, how long would it take the peace forcers to get there? What if those two men were going to hide Rhiann in something new and take her further? What if they were going to try to take her off Gemar? Where was the lab one of them had mentioned?
“Ganfer, tell Arin and the others to go to the spaceport and watch everybody who comes through. Have security check everything that's big enough to hold a person Rhiann's size,” Bain whispered. Less than a minute later the ship-brain confirmed the orders received and the other Scouts moving to act on them.
“Now what?” Trinia asked.
Gemar [Sunsinger Chronicles Book 9] Page 5
