Xris swallowed the brandy, returned to the hologram. "Any questions so far?"
Raoul raised a hand. "What happens if this Rowan is not alone, my friend?"
"Then I'll know for certain there's not a God," Xris returned quietly. 'Tll need one of your special concoctions." The cyborg indicated his weapons hand. "Something I can smear on a needle, inject into the flesh. Slow-acting, no antidote."
Raoul was thoughtful, intrigued. "I have just the thing. It is known as--"
"'Tll leave the details to you." Xris indicated a large digital clock placed in a prominent location on the wall. "We're running short on time and we've got more important details to cover."
"Such as how we get onto the space station," Quong observed. "I take it blasting our way through is not an option."
"We'd never make it within torpedo range. The base is well armed with strong defensive capabilities. It switches on its marker lights only when a ship is near, to aid in docking. And the only ships that ever dock are Royal Navy, plus a select few. A very select few. A fleet of Corasian mother ships would have a tough time taking that space station out."
"But you have a plan," said Harry, grinning.
"I have a plan." Xris bent near the hologram. "As I said, the base is mostly self-sufficient. Mostly. They have one little problem that requires outside intervention."
Xris straightened, shook another twist out from the case, and lit it. "Fleas." He inhaled the noxious smoke.
"Fleas!" Harry guffawed.
"They don't consider it a laughing matter. It seems that about twenty years ago, some colonel's kid sneaked a stray dog on board the space station. The dog was infested with a particularly virulent type of flea. Not only is this flea harder than hell to kill, it carries a highly infectious, flulike disease. It's not fatal to healthy adults, but it puts them out of action for a considerable length of time. Came damn close to shutting down the entire RFComSec operation for about a month the first time the plague hit.
"Since then, the Navy's tried every trick known to men and aliens to eradicate the pest. The best they can do is keep it under control. This requires a team of specially trained exterminators to come in once a month." "Every month?" Jamil asked, skeptical. "Is this reliable?" "Every Standard Military month," Xris said, "for the last twenty years."
"Twenty years! Why doesn't the Navy just do it themselves?"
"The Royal Navy is not in the bug-killing business," Xris returned. "Besides, this extermination company invented the system that keeps the fleas dormant. No one's quite sure how it works and the exterminators won't tell. They hold patents on the entire system and they have an open-ended exclusive contract to take care of it.
"Here's what we do know. The exterminators place robots that release the chemicals in minute doses all over the station to control the fleas on a continuous basis. If' the 'bots run across flea-breeding grounds, they actively seek out the fleas and their larvae and eradicate them using a chemical spray and microlasers. Every month the Olicien personnel bring the 'bots in to a central checkpoint for maintenance and chemical replenishment."
"Nice profitable operation they've got going," Tycho observed through his translator. "Paid for by our tax credits. I'll bet they stick the Navy for a fortune!"
"Quit worrying about your tax return. At any rate, this is one time the Navy's not going to get their money's worth. As I said, the exterminators visit once every SMT month. Every month they fly their own craft, which leaves from their own home world. They make the jump, arrive on the space station. The crew goes in--just like they've been going in once a month for twenty years."
"Same old same old," Harry said softly. 'Tll bet no one even bothers to check their IDs."
"Yeah, but is it the same crew all the time?" Jamil wondered. "If so, we've got problems."
Xris shook his head. "No, they've got other contracts to handle. Plus the usual amount of employee attrition and turnover. We may have a tough time explaining why all of us are new to the job, but I'm sure that's something our knowledgeable Adonian salesman can handle." He looked at Raoul, who grimaced.
"I do not enjoy playing salesmen, Xris Cyborg."
Xris was sympathetic. "I know, but you're so good at it. And I think it's about time that Olicien Pest Control tries to sell the Navy some additional services. Their charming representative will keep the security systems officer on RFComSec engaged in bug-related small talk--" Raoul shot Xris a reproachful glance.
"--while the rest of us take care of business. At this point, we face a problem. The exterminators are supposed to remain in one secure area. The security officer keeps tabs on them by following their movements on his screen. Any deviation from the norm and we'll have the whole blasted Navy on us. And," Xris added, taking another drag on the twist, "it's highly probable that once I locate Rowan, I'm going to have to leave the area to get to her."
"I am a good conversationalist," Raoul said gravely, "but I do not believe I am capable of distracting a person with airy chatter---even on a subject as fascinating as fleas-while his monitor is flashing alarms and urgently attempting to gain his attention."
"I don't expect you to." Xris snubbed out the twist. "When the Little One picks up the first indication that this officer has spotted something wrong, you give him a quick fix. Nothing lethal--I don't want any innocent people killed. Just something to send him to la-la land while we finish the job."
Raoul nodded complacently, admired his nails. "I see no problem in this, Xris Cyborg."
"There is one little thing I better mention, Raoul," Xris said slowly.
Not liking the cyborg's tone, Raoul looked up in alaml. "What is that, my friend?"
"You have to wear ... coverails."
Raoul's eyes widened. "Baggy coverails?" he whispered, aghast.
"Bright yellow."
Raoul shuddered.
Xris was relentless. "With a large black beetle on the back."
Raoul shut his eyes, unable to contemplate the horror. "I will take that double pay, after all."
Xris looked around at the others. "That's the general plan. Now we'll cover the details. Any questions so far?"
"What happens if we get there and this Rowan's taken the day off or is working the night shift?" Jamil asked.
"She won't be," Xris said shortly. "I have her work schedule."
"Damn!" Harry was admiring. "What'd you do, Xris, ask Lord Admiral Dixter to hand over the Navy's classified files?"
"Something like that," Xris said easily. "Any more questions?"
They discussed how they were going to hijack the craft, what they were going to use to subdue the exterminators before they could be stripped of clothes and equipment. The team tried to anticipate anything that could go wrong and formed a variety of contingency plans to deal with various scenarios.
Xris brought the meeting to a close. "Our time's almost up. When we leave here, we don't mention any of this. Not a word. From this point on, we separate. You four split up. I'll keep the Loti and the empath with me. You'll find the date, time, and location of our meeting place in a coded file in your own individual computers. That will also give you the location of Olicien Pest Control. Raoul, you and the Little One will arrive early, ahead of the rest of the team, in order to conduct your research. You're going to have to learn a lot about fleas."
Raoul gave a heart-wrenching sigh. "The sacrifices I make for my careen And the Little One"--he glanced at his slumbering friend--"will find this most distasteful. He has the strong aversion to insect life-forms that is so prevalent among his kind."
"He'll get over it," Xris said, who had no idea what "kind" the Little One was and who knew better than to ask, having been through that once with Raoul and gaining nothing from it except a throbbing pain behind the eyes. "Wake him up. I've got some additional instructions for you both."
The others filed out, pausing to ask final questions or obtain clarification on some minor details. The last man had gone before Raoul roused the Little One. The empath
shook himself, straightened his raincoat, and stared up from beneath the brim of the fedora at Xris.
The cyborg reached across to the control panel, shut and sealed the door. "Now here's the plan for Olicien "Xris began, then interrupted himself. "What the hell does he mean--staring at me like that?"
"The Little One says you are unsettled in your mind, Xris Cyborg, and that is most unlike you. Not even when you were contemplating that foolhardy venture to launch a oneman rescue of your wife from the Corasian prison camt>---"
Xris frowned, interrupted the flow. "If this is leading somewhere, get to it. We don't have much time and I still have to pack up the equipment."
"Not even during that dark time were you this ... this ..." Raoul fluttered his hands, searching his fog-ridden mind for a word. "Deranged."
"Deranged." Xris clamped his jaw down angrily on a twist. "He thinks I'm deranged."
"Perhaps that is not the word I meant. Possibly you would prefer unhinged?"
"I'd prefer you both out of sight and out of mind!" Xris glared at the Little One. "But I suppose that's impossible, since you're traveling with me. This is the last I want to hear of it, or you can both make the trip home locked up snugly in the storage compartment. Now here are your orders--"
"We are telling you this for your good, Xris Cyborg." Raoul was defensive. "Usually your brain is like a laser beam--clear, focused, flashing in a straight line toward your goal. But now, my friend, you are a laser beam in a room full of reflectors. You bounce off one and are distracted by another. You are zapping all over the place." "Thanks for the analysis," Xris said. "Send me a bill." "The bill may be a large one, my friend." Raoul's eyes were extraordinarily clear, intense. Disconcerting. "And we--the others and myself---are the ones who will pay. You are too emotionally involved. This could lead you to commit rash and hasty acts. You are already making mistakes."
"Clear out." Xris ground the words between his teeth and the twist. "Both of you. Now. I'll meet you at the spaceplane."
He pointed at the door.
"In just a moment." Raoul appeared to have taken root. The Little One entrenched himself behind the Loti's legs. "You must listen to us."
Xris sighed. Unless he wanted to get physical--which Raoul would have probably enjoyed--there would be no budging the Adonian. The fastest way to get rid of him and the empath was to simply let them have their say. And, although he was fairly certain no one could plant any listening devices aboard his spaceplane without his knowing it, he was up against some of the best in the business--the bureau, the Royal Navy, and the Hung. Sure he was acting paranoid. It was unlikely any of these groups would have found out about him yet, but--as the saying went--just because you're paranoid doesn't mean someone's not following you. Best to let Raoul unburden himself inside a secure room.
"I could always shut down the circuits that control my hearing," Xris muttered to himself. But he didn't. He had a strange need to listen, like poking at an aching tooth to feel the pain. "Okay, but make it quick. Why am I ... unhinged?" "Number one. You did not ask John Dixter for those files on the space station, as you led Harry to believe. You obtained the files illegally, by raiding the Royal Navy's computers, using the access code John Dixter gave you the time we did some work for him. You betrayed a friendship and a trust and you are not pleased with yourself. Such an action bothers you deeply."
"It does not. I had to do it. I'll explain later. Rowan's a security risk." Xris indicated the chronometer set into his wrist. "You've got five more minutes."
"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 shimmen "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 rain 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 outhurst--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 coverails?"
"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 certaim "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 coverails--"
"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 loin 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 Caf6. 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 Caf6 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."
Knights Of The Black Earth Page 12
