“Years later? How old were you?”
“Twenty standard years at the time.”
“So young?”
“You don’t understand, Mr Korsh; they killed my family. I was four years old then. I swore revenge. It took me 16 years to get it.”
“And your husband’s family? They helped?”
“I had just met Clay. They had threatened him, too. He helped me get away from Erin, but I got my revenge myself.”
“Your story shocks me, I have to admit,” Korsh said.
Colleen didn’t doubt that. It shocked most people who didn’t really know her – and that covered just about everyone. “Because I killed two men? Then this will shock you even more. Shortly after that, just after Clay and I married, others came after us. I killed again.”
“No, the shock comes from the necessity, not the action. I suspect you did right in each case.”
Really? “And why do you suspect that?”
“I have observed you, both on our station and on your ship. You have done only what is right and just.”
Compliments. How nice. “If someone threatens me or mine, just watch. You may have to change your opinion.”
* * *
Telford’s opinion of Ms Pendleton went up a notch.
“You’re right; he’s shifty, too,” she reported, though he had not used that particular word. It seemed a favourite of hers. “I’ve seen him surreptitiously checking crew doors. I don’t think he’s authorized to use them, do you?”
“Probably not, Ms Pendleton.”
She gave him a winsome smile. “Mary.”
Not a chance in hell.
He regarded her closely before speaking. “I think I’ll report it to a crewmember. They’ll talk to him. Some passengers like to go exploring. A word in his ear might prevent that.”
Her spying told him all he needed to know, and he didn’t need her getting in the way of a criminal – whatever nature that crime might take. Best to have her feel she had done her job.
She looked at him as if he were stupid. “Mr Telford – what is your first name, anyway? – I don’t think a smuggler wants to just take a look at what’s behind a door. Perhaps he wants to hide his smuggled goods in a place where crew will get the blame if Customs finds it.”
“Well, I’m not one hundred percent sure he’s smuggling anything. It just looked like it to me.”
“If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it’s a duck,” she replied.
“Not in a court of law, Ms Pendleton.”
She glared at him. “And you’re a lawyer?”
“No, but my business forces me to consult with them on a regular basis.”
It seemed he could do little other than irritate the woman. But fair was fair, she irritated him right back. Looking back on his earlier suspicions, he felt bad. Not a potential saboteur, not someone with a score to settle, but a woman growing older alone whose life with her husband hadn’t given her much scope to express herself.
And she had latched onto him, for some strange reason. He regretted that, for he could not bring to her what she desired. She merely wasted her time – time which she could better spend looking for a more suitable companion.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she said as they walked towards the passengers’ cafeteria.
“Sorry. No, I’m not a lawyer.”
She pressed her lips together in disgust. “No, not that one. What do people call you when they don’t call you Mister Telford.”
He looked at her. “Those ones? They call me Telford.”
CHAPTER 21
Blue Powder
Mary Pendleton hadn’t had this much fun since ... well, ever. Raymond had taken her as a trophy wife, and had not let her do anything much from that day until the day he died. A mean, parsimonious old man, she’d had to watch every pound she spent. And that had turned her into a mean, parsimonious old woman well before her time.
His death had released her, but she had no friends with whom to celebrate; she had pretty well alienated everyone in their social circle.
Now? Now she felt her age again, and other women of fifty had started over. This voyage had done wonders. She almost giggled as she followed Jim Little from the zero-g room – which she had actually tried, ending up dizzy and giddy from both laughing and the uncontrollable tumble she’d ended up in – to the cafeteria.
He took a table by himself, and she took one where she could watch him from the back, feeling every centimetre the spy. How Raymond would have hated this! In a cafeteria where just anyone could walk in, and did. Where anyone might sit at your table without so much as a by-your-leave.
The ship had dropped into Liberty’s space, and they would arrive at the station in only twelve hours.
“Ms Silverston!” She waved over the anthropologist, who brought Mr Korsh in tow. “And Mr Korsh. Come, sit.”
Who might have imagined her with an alien! She had learned oh, so much. The only thing she needed to make this voyage a complete success would be for that handsome Mr Telford to really notice her. She laughed at herself. Mr Telford looked about fifteen years younger than her. He would have his pick of women his own age or younger – women like she had been before Raymond had gotten to her. Vivacious, happy, optimistic.
Still, that he had time for her made the trip all the better. And when he had noticed Mr Little doing something illegal – because she had brought his attention to the man – her fun had only increased.
“Mary, we’ve missed you,” Meredith Silverston exclaimed upon seating. “What have you been up to?”
“No good, Meredith,” Mary replied, eyes twinkling.
“Not still after Mr Telford?”
And Korsh reacted to that, though she didn’t know why. As far as she knew Mr Telford and Mr Korsh had never even met.
She laughed gaily. “He’s a tough one, but I think he’s coming around. And what has Mr Korsh been telling you?”
“Dining customs,” Meredith replied. “They – in their ancient state, long before starflight – were a prey species, much like we were. They, too, mastered fire – but you tell her, Mr Korsh.”
Korsh looked slightly put upon, but he gamely rose to the challenge.
He pulled three flat disks from his pocket. “Every Damarg carries these.”
He handed one over to her, and she examined it minutely.
“It has a little button on the side. What will happen if I press it?”
He took it back and set it on the table. He carefully touched the button, and a small flame came from it. He passed the second one to her, and she imitated him. Then the third one went to Meredith, who likewise lit her flame.
“It’s now safe to eat,” Korsh said.
“Pardon?”
“Wild animals on Home World fear fire. Fires kept them away. So, when eating – when those Ancient Damargs found their attention diverted by the necessity to eat – they would set fires just outside the dining area, for protection. When we eat, we concentrate solely on eating.
“It evolved into a ritual. When visiting another family for a meal, the hosts would provide the food, and the visitors the flame to keep them all safe. Three flames became standard.”
Korsh looked around him. “As the ship has provided the food, we three provide the flame.”
He reached down and extinguished the three small open flames, gathered the disks together and put them away.
“How very interesting,” Mary said.
“Indeed,” Meredith replied. “And you, how have you occupied your time today?”
Eyes bright, for she now had someone she could tell her tale to, she indicated Jim Little.
“You see that man? Mr Little?” she asked in a low enough voice that both Korsh and Meredith had to lean forward to hear. “Mr Telford and I believe he’s a smuggler.”
The two sat back and stared at her.
“Who is this Mr Telford?” Korsh asked.
“Oh, he’s a businessman.
I believe he did some trading at Pallinteth, where you boarded, Mr Korsh. Didn’t you see him there?”
Korsh canted his head. “Ah, yes, I believe I did. I saw several traders, and I do believe I heard the name Adrian Telford.”
Mary’s eyes lit at that. Adrian! So, she had his name at last.
“But what makes you think he engages in smuggling?” Korsh asked.
She told them the story and, although Meredith looked sceptical, Mr Korsh got drawn right into the intrigue.
“So, what will you do, you and Mr Telford? Will you arrest him and turn him over to the authorities on the ship? Or will you let the authorities on Liberty deal with him – if he exits at Liberty.”
Having another co-conspirator made the game all the better. “Oh, he’s getting off at Liberty, all right. He has already packed his luggage and had the crew take it down to the hold, ready to off-load it. I saw that, myself.”
“Mary, you have a wild imagination,” Meredith said, which made her feel a little bad.
However, Korsh ignored that, which allowed her joy to rebound. “So, when do you think he will make his move?”
“Well,” Mary said, leaning forward again. “I saw him checking out some ‘authorized personnel only’ doors. He may have hid the goods in there. So, my bet would be that he will attempt to recover them just before we dock.
“Those leaving the ship must vacate their cabins three hours before docking, and then the crew prepares those cabins for those coming on board. They call it ‘all hands on deck’. I’ve heard that even captains of tradeships engage in house-cleaning when necessary.”
“Do they?” asked Korsh.
“Oh, yes. And Liberty is the main stop. Most passengers either board or exit here, so the crew will be very busy. He will come to collect his loot then.”
“I believe we’re scheduled to remain at Liberty Station for some days for trading. Why oust the passengers so soon? I admit that I did see this at Neu Deutschland, but I did not understand it.”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Mary said, warming to the tale. It felt so good to have people to tell your stories to – something she hadn’t had when married to Raymond. Raymond would have had a fit if he caught her engaging in what he called ‘gossip’. “It’s a Family ship – a trading ship. They run with minimal crew. So when something has to get done, everyone, regardless of their position, does it. So pilots may handle cargo, ship’s officers may do room-maid work. Whatever it takes to get the job done.
“They say, ‘The fewer the crew, the greater the profit.’ As it is a Family ship, that’s very true, for everyone gets a share of the profit. So, they clean rooms before docking, because many of them will go down to handle cargo after the ship docks.”
“I understand,” Korsh said. “So, the best time to do something nefarious would be when so many of the crew are busy doing domestic chores that only the minimum number would tend to regular duties.”
“Exactly.” Mary saw Jim Little rise. She quickly gulped down the rest of her food. “There he goes. I’m going to follow him.”
* * *
Little had disappointed Mary. He had done nothing untoward. Instead he had just gone back to his cabin. After that, he had come out and spent his remaining time aboard ship in the starboard acceleration lounge, watching the stars, and reading.
Mr Korsh came in and sat beside her. She looked around and could not see Mr Telford. That surprised her. He always came in early.
The ship did its final braking burn to ease it into orbit, and then released the passengers to go where they wished until they got the call to board their shuttles.
“Alas,” Mary said to Korsh. “Maybe we made a mistake.” It disappointed her. It would have made a wonderful story to relate.
“Come,” Korsh said. “The man leaves.”
Surprised that he would go with her, Mary hesitated before jumping up. “Yes, let’s see what he does.”
However, that hesitation gave Mr Little the chance to disappear. Together with Korsh, they wandered down the corridor. At the end, they turned to go to the other side of the ship when she heard the snick of a door sliding shut behind them. She looked back, and saw Little come from a cleaner’s closet.
“That’s strange,” she said.
“Strange?”
“He shouldn’t have been in there.”
Korsh immediately began to walk swiftly back, and she had to jog to keep up. Korsh checked the door – a flimsy one compared to cabin doors, and other hatches that had to be able to seal against vacuum should the ship’s hull get holed.
“I heard something!” Mary said.
Korsh put his head against the door.
“Stand back.”
Mary hadn’t realized the strength the Damarg possessed. The alien struck the door with force, and metal twisted. The door sprang open, and they saw a crewmember crumpled on the floor, moaning.
“Call Security, Ms Pendleton. I’ll find this man.” Korsh began to run, and Mary followed, looking for one of the call stations that she’d had to read about. Had not Mr Telford made her feel guilty, she never would have known what to do.
She found one just around the corner, and she saw Korsh slip through an open door and disappear as she reached to toggle on the comm.
“This is Mary Pendleton on the Passenger deck. Emergency. A passenger has attacked someone and has gone into crew spaces.” She gave the deck and room number opposite where she stood, though she later figured it unnecessary. They would know by the comm unit she used. “Mr Korsh is in pursuit.”
She went to stand by the door, to point out the way. She desperately wanted to go through, but fear and prudence kept her back. How would Security know if no one could point the way?
Security came at a run, weapons out.
“In there,” she said, pointing. Only after the first three went charging in, did she notice Mr Telford had accompanied them.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “And where were you?”
“Watching Muncer,” he said.
“Where’s the injured crewman?” someone asked.
“This way.”
She led them and Mr Telford to the cleaner’s closet. Everyone looked at mangled door. Then the one in charge called for a gurney.
“You called this in?” a security woman asked Mary.
“Yes.”
“Well, you’d better come with me.”
Suddenly she felt scared. She looked up to Telford. He shrugged. “We both have information,” he told the woman. “We’ll both go.”
Feeling better, she walked side by side with Mr Telford. With Adrian. She wondered how Mr Korsh fared.
* * *
“Thank you, Mr Korsh,” Colleen said. “I don’t know how Mr Little got away from our man.”
Korsh looked surprised. “Your man?”
“We were watching him, thanks to Mr Telford’s warning. He just somehow slipped away.” She felt a cold rage building up in her.
“Why did he attack that man in the closet?” Korsh wanted to know.
“We upped security recently, and each crewman carries a security card that they need to use to access restricted spaces. We change the codes on those cards on an ongoing basis. Thus, a stolen card from yesterday won’t work today. He needed one of today’s cards to get into the engine room.”
“I didn’t catch him in the engine room, Ms Yrden,” Korsh objected.
“Only because you caught him before he got there, Mr Korsh,” Clay said as he came through the door from the brig. “And you have my thanks, too, Mr Korsh.”
“What did he intend?”
Colleen exchanged a glance with Clay, and then lied. “Some minor sabotage to make us look incompetent.” She gave Korsh a look that had his eyes opening wider. “Remember our little talk?” she asked, tracing her scar with her finger.
“I remember.”
“He’s lucky he’s alive. But we need him that way.”
Korsh did his usual head-cant. “For some
minor sabotage.”
She smiled – more a showing of teeth than a smile, really. “A small chance existed that what he intended could have resulted in crew or passenger deaths. I don’t take that lightly. I fully intend to charge him with attempted murder. But not here. We’re taking him with us to Yamato. We need him to confess all, first.” She showed her teeth again. “He will confess.”
Korsh nodded. “Right and just. If you have no more need of me, I will return to my room to contemplate the events of this day. I will, of course, make myself available for testimony, be it in person or by affidavit.”
“Thank you, Mr Korsh. Again, we appreciate your actions.”
After Korsh exited, she turned to Clay.
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t terminate his life right now. He planned mass murder, and you know it. Had he succeeded, the ship would have come apart in jump, killing us, our children, our passengers.”
Clay straightened up, as if she’d made an attack on him. Which, in a way she had.
“As you said, we need him to confess. We need to find out who is behind this.”
“We already know. NB Lines. He got the device from Muncer, who received it from the NB employee.”
“Not good enough, Colleen. We need to be able to show everyone – Families, and non-Family alike.”
“We’ll get that from his partner. I’ve sent Telford to pick him up.”
“Telford?” Clay winced. “Telford hasn’t stepped on Liberty Station since we hired him. He’s persona non grata.”
“And he knows the station. He’ll bring back Muncer. Besides, it’s been fourteen years. They’ve probably forgotten all about him.”
Clay started pacing, which irritated her.
“They’ll have his name in records. As soon as he went through security, they’d have him.”
“If I sent him under his real name.”
Clay put his hand over his eyes. “We can’t afford to operate like that.”
She snapped back, “We can’t afford to not operate like this.” She got a grip on her anger. “Let’s just and see what happens. I’m sure Adrian can look out for himself.”
One Trade Too Many Page 17
