“I’m Jovan r’pa Kotras,” the Lamanian male introduced himself, and then cocked a finger at the driver. “She’s Magda Mariss. We were next door, doing some routine identity checking when we got the call to meet you down here, commandeer a mag-car and head for the Station under the Port Commercial District, the one closest to the Cafe Paradiso. Do you know what’s up?”
“Xoraya Hsiss, the Xeonsaur VIP whom I’m supposed to be keeping safe, ran into some trouble with three creepy Vultairian Exalted Citizens at the Cafe. Someone has managed to interfere with the feed to and from her ID Chip so I’m not able to get in touch with her.”
“Shit. Not good!” Jovan shook his head. “What the damn do those arrogant bastards think that they’re up to, anyway? Harassing an Xeonsaur! On this Space Station! Those damned peacocks are getting too uppity for their own good!”
“Madame Hsiss had agreed to speak in favour of the Official Investigation into Vultaire at tomorrow night’s Reception for the Senators and their entourages,” Mikal replied, wringing his hands. “They probably want to prevent that, which just proves, as far as I’m concerned that they’re guilty as hell of all that we suspect them of.”
“What, Vultairian Exalted involved in the slave trade?” asked Magda Mariss in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Who’d have thought that?”
She looked like she might have come from any number of the Federation planets whose populations belonged solidly within the usual norms. She was brown-skinned, had a hawkish nose, and masses of dark hair which was braided and coiled on the top of her uncovered head.
Before Mikal could reply his node warned him of an incoming message, and he closed his eyes to take it, grateful that he did not have to drive the mag-car.
“The Vultairians have kidnapped Madame Hsiss as well as a Cafe staff member who went to help her. The captives were shot with some kind of a fast acting drug which felled them; then the Vultairians ran off, carrying them, towards the mag-car station.”
“Damn!” Mikal spoke out loud for the other two to hear. “We have to get to that mag-car station before they grab a car and get away!”
“Magda, can you do your speed-demon thing?” Jovan said, not waiting for Mikal to finish his communication.
“I’m on it.”
The mag-car sped up and began to overtake other vehicles on the track. Magda passed car after car skilfully, picking up more speed all the time. Within moments they were fairly flying along, with Magda keeping control of the vehicle with skill that had Mikal staring in amazement, and Jovan grinning with glee.
“She’s the absolute best at this,” Jovan said. “If she doesn’t get us there in time, nobody could!”
*****
Apparently it was a case of “nobody could”. When they reached the station there were no Vultairians there, only the usual crush of the very young, the very old, and their care-takers. Plus a handsome young man in a Waiter’s black and white uniform hailing them when he saw the emergency light flashing on their mag-car.
He piled into the back seat with Mikal as soon as the car stopped.
“They can’t be far ahead,” he said urgently, even as he was climbing in. “I ran after them as soon as I found out which way they were heading. I thought I’d catch them here at the station, but they must have had an accomplice waiting with a mag-car at the steps.”
Obviously he was assuming that they were after the same people he was—which, as it happened, was the correct assumption.
“The staff they took, she was a friend of mine,” he added. “They used some kind of a drug on them both, and now I can’t raise Canna’s node at all—not even to locate her. But if one of you has any idea where they might be heading, driving like the dickens maybe we can still catch them.”
“The Port!” Mikal said after a second’s thought.
But the Port was so close that Magda’s speed demonic abilities would not help them much. Nevertheless, she powered up the machine again, heading in the direction of the Port.
“This was so well planned that they’ve probably got a cruiser waiting in the Priority Sector, all ready to go,” Mikal said, hope slipping away.
“That drug they used, which shut off your friend’s node,” he said to the young man beside him, “is very familiar to me, I’m afraid. It’s got to be mind-tangler, for sure. Wait, it works differently on Xeonsaurs; their metabolism is different from ours. Just a moment, I’ll get a message out—maybe all’s not lost yet.”
He contacted Maryse.
“Get hold of Vorlund, pronto,” he messaged her, knowing that she’d understand his abruptness. “See if he can use his ESP powers to locate Xoraya. She’ll probably be at or near the Port, maybe even getting aboard a ship right now. She’s under mind-tangler, I’m afraid.”
“But an Xeonsaur’s mind stays clear under that drug; it’s only her body which is affected.” Maryse picked up on his thought immediately.
Seconds later she was back, connecting with his node again.
“Get to the Space Cruiser. I’ve sent someone to pack you a bag, and I’ve asked for a pilot to get there immediately. If Vorlund can contact Xoraya, he’s coming with you; let’s hope he won’t take too much time doing it. They’re most likely to head for Vultaire—I’m not one hundred percent sure of that, but if they don’t, I’ll have missed my bet.”
“This friend of yours that they took,” Mikal said to the young man beside him. “Normally, you can reach her, node to node?”
“Yeah. At the Cafe, we partner up, so if it’s necessary to quickly reach another staff member, each one of us has someone whom they can touch mentally. When Canna and I work together, we almost always are each other’s back-up.” He shrugged. “We get along and don’t get on each other’s nerves, so it makes sense.”
“If the Vultairians are taking the women into space as we suspect, do you want to follow them with those of us who are going?” Mikal asked him.
“Could I?” he asked hopefully. “Canna would appreciate someone she knows coming after her and the Xeonsaur, I’m sure. She’s strong physically and mentally, too, but her emotions may be a bit fragile.”
“If you can contact someone to pack a bag for you and send it over quickly, do so. We’re going to try to follow them as soon as possible.”
*****
“What?” Roge Maruchal was furious when Maryse r’ma Darien contacted him to inform him of what had happened at Cafe Paradiso. “Bloody hell! Those miserable shits kidnapped Xoraya from our restaurant, you say? If anyone other than you had tried to tell me, I wouldn’t have believed it! Jayzees, the Manager is probably afraid to contact me because that’s exactly what he’s thinking—that I won’t believe it! I’ll have to contact him!”
“They took one of your Waitresses, too,” Maryse continued, ignoring his sputtering. “Named Canna, I believe.”
“Oh no, not Canna!” Senator Maruchal moaned. “Not in the hands of those arrogant bastards who’ll probably abuse her! That girl had a hell of a life at home; a drug-addled, abusive mother who sold her daughter to pedophiles for hits of dream-dust in some god-awful slum on a world she never named! I want her out of this!”
“Another employee, by the name of Malin wants to follow them with my crew. Apparently, he had asked Canna to keep an eye on the Vultairians and Xoraya while he went to call for help; the kidnapping happened before he made it back to the Terrace. I think he feels responsible for her plight.”
“Yeah, Malin, of course.” Maryse thought that there was resignation in Maruchal’s mental tone. “If you’re in touch with him, let him know that we’ll support him and Canna both. And damn it, if those Exalted dolts think that this is going to improve their chances of avoiding an inquest, they’re complete idiots! They’ve just insured that we’ll get that Investigation you want, Maryse!”
Maryse rather thought that he was right about that. An announcement at the Reception that the promised speech by an Xeonsaur, and the opportunity to mingle with her, were cancelled because Vultair
ians had kidnapped her, and spirited her off the Space Station, would serve to infuriate most of the Senators who were not in some fashion seriously beholden to the Vultairians. It would be enough to easily win the vote. Perhaps Vascorn would allow her to fast-track the Official Investigation even before the vote was taken, now that its outcome was preordained. Unfortunately, her chosen Leader was going to be off-station, chasing down the kidnappers and their prize. Who did she have to take his place?
*****
Meanwhile, Master Healer Vorlund was in a trance, sitting cross-legged on the carpet of his room in the posh Presidential Residence. Nearby, the valet assigned to him while he was at the Palace, was packing for him the small bag of clothing which he planned to take with him on the Space Cruiser. Maryse had told him to not bother with toiletries; the vessel was equipped with supplies of those, and he had passed this information to the body servant, suggesting that he concentrate on comfortable clothing. The servant, staring into the closet, had decided that he would have to obtain a few more items for the bag from the Stores, which, over time, had evolved into a holding room for anything and everything the residents or the guests of the palace might need. The valet was quite familiar with the place, having fetched items for other guests from time to time, and now, of course, with the President being a Shelonian, much clothing had been acquired to fit the Shelonian body type. Since haste seemed necessary, he did not go down to the Stores himself, but sent a wish-list to the person in charge through the communications system; then set to packing what the Esteemed Master Healer did have at hand—which was not much.
Oblivious to the concerns about his austere living style, the Master Healer’s mind was scouring about the Space Station, mentally calling for Xoraya Hsiss. Maryse had told him that the kidnappers were believed to be heading for the Port, and that, no doubt, they had a Space Cruiser ready to leave in the Priority Sector, already cleared to go. But she had also said that under the drug used on her, the Xeonsaur’s mind should be free to wander about; her body would be unable to move but somehow the drug freed the lizard mind from the ties of the physical. However, Xoraya could also have been disoriented by this, and have gone off anywhere, far from her body. And he needed her to stay with her physical body; otherwise they might lose her completely. Especially, if the Vultairians decided to do something no-one really expected them to do, like head for one of the Fringe Worlds with which they were known to do business, and stake out a hiding place there.
To allay the anxieties that made it hard to concentrate, and make the necessary search, Vorlund reminded himself that the Vultairian Exalted were a rigid and uncreative bunch. The notion that they had a hideout ready in the Fringe seemed like a long shot. To begin with, who on the Fringe Worlds would be prepared to put up with Exalted arrogance? Besides, would the thought of hiding there with their kidnapped prize even occur to the fools? They must have felt very threatened to have come up with the crazy idea of kidnapping a most esteemed VIP, but it was typical of them to not really think through the implications of their actions.
“Xoraya! Where are you?” He sent a mental shout into the environs of the Port, while hovering formlessly at the mag-car station just beneath the Priority Sector and its facilities.
A mag-car arrived at fast speed, docking into a storage stall; the only arrival or departure at the moment. This was not a large station, nor a busy one; its existence was justified by the use made of it by arriving and departing diplomats. Four very tall men, carrying two shorter, comatose women jumped out, hurrying to the staircase which would take them to the docked ships.
“Why, Vorlund! And out of body! One who can hear me as I am, I suppose?”
The words came into the Master Healer’s mind from beside him. He willed himself to be aware of the speaker, and the shimmer of Xoraya’s astral body was suddenly there, beside him. For a split second he wondered if the Xeonsaur was seeing him, and if so, what did he look like to her: he put the thought aside and concentrated on communicating.
“I’m certainly aware of your communication, Xoraya Hsiss. Whether it can be called hearing you is an interesting question, but will have to be left for another time. You do understand what has happened, I take it?”
“More or less. Those...louts—as Kati of Terra would call them—shot me full of a drug, and then did the same to that lovely girl who rushed to my defence. The drug must be that tangle-juice which my Life-Mate apparently created by mistake, since it sent me out of my body but entrapped the young woman’s body and mind, both.”
“And now they are taking both of you off-station; to Vultaire, we speculate. They are in a hurry since Mikal will be here soon. He and I will follow their ship in a Star Federation Cruiser, probably the very ship that brought Mikal and you here.”
“I suppose it’s safer for me to stay near my corporeal form,” Xoraya mused. “In case it wakes up, or something. Which means going with that ship, complete with the louts in it.”
“I was going to suggest that you do so,” Vorlund told her. “I will try to contact you every so often, to find out what is happening, and so we will know where they—and you, and the girl—are headed. Try to help me with that if you can.”
“If I sense your presence, like I did just moments ago, I’ll certainly let you know. Remember, however, that I’m new to this; I’ve never, to my knowledge, been out of body before.”
“You have a very strong mental presence, Xoraya; do not forget that. I may have the knowledge and the skill developed over years of study, but my mentality is a flicker compared to yours. I think we will manage this, between your strength and my scholarship.”
“Excellent. I’m not sure what those jokers think that they’re going to accomplish, but I’m confident that you and Mikal will scuttle it. But I must go to the ship. And you will have to return to your body and get to yours. I sense Mikal’s imminent arrival.”
She disappeared, and Vorlund allowed his physical form to draw his mind back to it.
He snapped out of the trance state to see the valet stuffing his bag with an assortment of clothing he did not recognize. He sighed. It was too much to expect the help at the Presidential Residence to understand his austere manner of living. So, once he was on his feet, he thanked the man for his efforts, and accepted the bag with good grace. He could always leave the extra clothes on the Space Cruiser; possibly a Shelonian traveller might find a use for them at some later date. Now he needed to contact Vascorn and say his farewells, and then catch a mag-ride to the Port. Time was of the essence.
*****
“The whole point of the Priority Sector is to have a Port area which the diplomats can use to come and go as they please, with the least amount of interference,” said the official voice on the console. Mikal had activated it as soon as he and his companions had rushed up the stairs to the Port from the mag-car station below. “The Vultairian Cruiser had been approved for disembarkation hours ago. We would have needed an official writ to stop them from leaving, and no-one has served us with such.”
“So you’re okay with the fact that those jerks drugged and kidnapped two women, one of them the most important VIP to have come to the Station in decades, and are now taking them who knows where?”
Mikal slapped the console angrily on the side while watching the female official’s face on the screen. He had forgone connecting through his node, partly because he was furious, and did not want to flood the Port worker with his rage, and partly because this way Jovan, Magda and Malin could follow the conversation as it happened.
The face on the screen blanched.
“No, I’m not okay with that,” she replied, the lecturing tone suddenly gone. Her eyes went blank; Mikal guessed that she had just received a nodal communication. “Sorry sir,” she added out loud, but clearly not primarily to Mikal. “You’re too late. I already let them go, only minutes ago.”
“Jayzees,” muttered Jovan. “Too late, too late, too late.”
The official turned her attention back to Mikal.<
br />
“Mikal r’ma Trodden, if you could connect nodally, please,” she said. “President Vascorn wants a word with you.”
“Hey, the company we’re keeping is more exalted than the Exalted of Vultaire,” Jovan said in a low voice, his eyes open wide, as Mikal slid his thumb into the receptor.
Madge elbowed Jovan in the ribs, and hissed at him.
Malin stared at the two of them and laughed uneasily. “Well, the lady was Xoraya Hsiss from the planet Xeon,” he said with a shake of his head. “She never did get her lunch, either; I hope the Vultairians aren’t starving her.”
“Mikal,” Vascorn was saying, while an image of his Shelonian face surfaced in front of Mikal’s inner sight. “I’ve just communicated with Vorlund. He’s on his way to the Port. He found Xoraya and had a few quick, mental words with her before she joined the ship that holds her body and that of the young woman who tried to help her. I’m authorizing you to do whatever is necessary—within the rules of the Peace Officer Corps—to free the women from whatever plight they are in. You’ll have the funding you’ll need—I’ve already made the arrangements for that—and, rest assured, Maryse will get her Official Investigation, now that the Vultairians have managed to scandalize the whole Station and half the known universe.”
“Thank you, President Vascorn. I will do my best to not fail you. I’m assuming that we have the use of the PO Cruiser which I used on the trip to the Xeon Space Station? It’s as fast as the Vultairian Cruiser.”
“I believe that a pilot is on his way to the Port. Good luck, Mikal.”
*****
“Looks like you two, Magda and Jovan, will get to go back to your quiet, regular duties, shortly,” Mikal said, after he disconnected from the console. “Master Healer Vorlund succeeded in communicating with Xoraya before the Vultairian Cruiser left, and he and a pilot are on their way here. Did you get someone to collect some suitable clothing for you, Malin?”
On Assignment to the Planet of the Exalted Page 49
