by Jaleta Clegg
"And how do we find Phil?" Clark asked.
"You don't," Matthias said.
"Then how do his clients contact him?" Clark asked.
Paltronis yanked her knife free. "This is taking too long." She kicked the footrest of the chair. It snapped upright with a grinding of internal gears. "What do you say to a manicure?"
He tried to jerk his hands back, to tuck them out of sight. Clark and Tayvis clamped his arms to the chair. Paltronis slowly cleaned one of her own nails with the tip of the knife.
"Tell us about Phil," Tayvis said. The edge in his voice was sharper than Paltronis's knife.
"He only works for high paying clients," Matthias babbled, his attention focused on the knife. "I don't know anything else."
Paltronis picked one of his fingers. She pulled it up and examined it. Her other hand held the knife close. She flicked her gaze over his face.
"Maybe you'd prefer a shave," she said, dropping his hand.
Matthias swallowed hard.
"How about circumcision?" She stepped forward, the knife held low. "I've never done one on purpose before. Only by accident." The knife moved closer.
Matthias tried to bring his knees together. Clark and Tayvis shifted their hold. Paltronis brought the knife closer to the crotch of his pants. The end just touched the fabric.
"He has a contact number listed downtown," Matthias babbled. He was pale and sweating. "You call it and he gets back with you. I don't know anything else about him. I swear I don't."
Paltronis increased the pressure just a fraction. The knife parted several threads. Matthias went white.
"Who was the buyer?" Paltronis asked coldly. "Who did you sell her to?"
"I don't know," Matthias said. His eyes were focused on the knife. "Please, I don't know any more."
The fabric of his pants gave with a ripping noise. Matthias screamed.
"I didn't even touch you," Paltronis objected, stepping back. "That was a waste of time, Clark. He doesn't know anything useful."
"We've got another lead," Clark said. He stepped away from the chair. "Do you have any idea who you kidnapped, Matthias?"
"Of course I know," Matthias snapped.
"Good," Clark said and grinned. "That's her boyfriend. He used to be a Patrol Enforcer, special division." He nodded at Tayvis. Tayvis cracked his knuckles.
"Did you touch her?" Tayvis asked. He shifted so he blocked Matthias from leaving the chair.
"No," Matthias lied.
"Really?" Tayvis asked.
"Tell us everything you know," Clark suggested to Matthias. "Tell us how to find Phil the Banker."
"I never laid a finger on her. It was strictly business." Matthias was sweating again.
Tayvis slammed his fist into the chair. It teetered and slowly tipped over backwards.
"I'll take you to Phil," Matthias shouted. "Just keep the maniacs away from me." He was looking at Clark when he said that.
"They don't take orders from me," Clark said. "You have to convince them not to hurt you." He leaned over Matthias and grabbed the collar of his leisure suit. "Where's Phil?"
"Downtown," Matthias gurgled.
Clark yanked him bodily to his feet. "You take us there and maybe we'll let you walk afterwards. Double cross us and you won't die for a long time."
"Who's the maniac now, Matthias?" Paltronis asked. She fingered her knife.
"Call him, make the arrangements," Tayvis said, slamming a com unit onto the table next to Matthias.
"Or you'll find out who the real maniacs are," Clark threatened. He shoved Matthias at the table.
Paltronis slammed him up against it, planting herself right behind him. Her knife slid down his sleeve. "Watch what you say," she said.
"Make the call," Tayvis demanded.
Matthias pulled the unit towards him. "I don't have the number memorized," he hedged.
"And I don't believe you," Paltronis said. The knife tickled him under his ear.
Matthias punched in a number on the com. They heard the connection buzzing, three, four, five times, before it clicked.
"You've reached Courier Services, Limited," a crisp voice informed them. "We are currently out of the office. Please leave a message."
Clark reached past Matthias and cut the connection. "Another dead end," he said.
Paltronis stepped back. Matthias let out a sigh of relief. It was shortlived.
Tayvis reached across the table and dragged him halfway onto it. "Who's the buyer? You know who. Tell me now."
Matthias shook his head. Tayvis jerked him farther onto the table by his collar.
"You're choking me," Matthias complained.
"I'll do more than that, you little weasel," Tayvis said, shaking him. "Tell me."
"It's only rumors," Matthias gasped.
Paltronis hit him across the back of his head. "Talk, or I'll start carving."
"The drug queen," Matthias blurted out. "She bought Dace. She's the only one with that much cash."
"Names, Matthias," Paltronis said. Her knife slammed into the table near his head.
He shook his head. "She calls herself the drug queen. I've never heard a name."
"Just like you didn't know the buyer?" Tayvis twisted the collar until Matthias couldn't breathe. He held it for a long minute before loosening it.
"I don't know," Matthias whined. "Some say her name is Pardui."
Tayvis went pale. He shoved Matthias away from him as if he were diseased. Matthias' head cracked on the edge of the table. He slid to the floor, unconscious.
"What, Tayvis?" Clark asked.
"Shomies Pardui," Tayvis said.
"Wasn't she an anthropologist of some sort?" Paltronis asked. "There was some scandal a while back. Her family disowned her. Didn't she go to prison?"
"For smuggling drugs," Tayvis said. "Specifically, for smuggling shara off Dadilan."
"Dace put her in prison," Clark guessed.
"It's my fault," Tayvis said. "I didn't give her a choice. Not that I really could have offered her anything else. They all thought she was a Patrol agent."
"And Lowell hasn't helped her reputation any," Clark said.
Paltronis rolled Matthias' limp body out from under the table. She cuffed him hand and foot to the sturdy table.
"Where did you get those?" Clark asked her.
"Don't ask and I won't shoot you," she answered. "Are we through here?"
"We may have guessed who, but we don't know where," Clark said. "Any sign of files? Anything that might be useful?"
Paltronis clicked on her com. "Ginni? Any luck?"
"We've got maybe a dozen data cubes," Ginni's voice answered from the com. "They appear to be vids, the kind that usually get you admitted to the pervert farm. At least that was Beryn's description."
"Did the guards say anything?"
"Ouch," Ginni quoted.
"Ask them what they know about the drug queen, Shomies Pardui," Paltronis instructed. "We're just about done here." She clicked off the com. "Now what?"
"I don't know," Clark admitted. "Everett's contacts are out of our reach. He's gone to Tebros to try to defuse the Gypsies for a while."
"And we can't ask the Patrol," Paltronis stated the obvious. She clicked the com again, this time keying in the code for the ship. "Jasyn? Ask Lowell what he knows about a drug queen by the name of Shomies Pardui."
"Let's go," Clark said. "Tayvis?"
Tayvis stood next to the table, flexing his fists open and close. "I should never have left her."
"So we all agree on that," Clark said. "Stop beating yourself up over it. Wishing won't change anything."
"Don't make me hit you again," Paltronis added.
Tayvis nodded once. He didn't look up at them, he kept his head down, staring at his fists.
Paltronis glanced back as they left the room. Tayvis was following them, true, but there was something in his face that worried her. He was a bomb waiting to explode. Clark caught her glance. She read in his face that he k
new. When Tayvis finally let himself go, he'd be surrounded by friends. It was the best they could hope for.
Finding Dace would be better. They were running out of time. She hoped someone had the answers they needed. And soon.
Chapter 46
Roland adjusted the collar of his new tunic. It was deep gold, with russet trim. It was also extremely ornate. He turned in front of the mirror, trying to see all angles.
"What do you think?" he asked Will.
Will looked up from his handcomp. "About what?"
"This tunic," Roland answered. "It seems a bit much." He brushed at the embroidery down the front.
"You are the president of the Federation," Will drawled. "People expect a bit of pomp and ostentatiousness."
"That's a big word, even for you." Roland shook his head as he unfastened the tunic. "Maybe for a ceremony, if I ever hold one," he added as he handed the tunic to the seamstress waiting nearby.
She nodded, folding the tunic over her arm. "And the others?"
"Can you make them plainer? Please?"
She didn't look happy about the request but she nodded.
Roland found his old robe, a ratty brown homespun thing. He pulled it on with a sigh of relief after the seamstress left.
"You really should throw it out," Will observed.
"Not until they make me a new one," Roland answered. "How did I ever get into this in the first place?"
"You wanted it, if I remember correctly. You said to me one night while we were sitting around Robin's fire, we should make things better. Robin agreed with you. I got roped into taking care of the details. You also decided that Dadilan wasn't big enough. You left Robin Goodfellow in charge of the planet and moved on to greater things."
"And now I'm stuck with several hundred planets all asking me what to do. I swear they are worse than children."
"How would you know? You don't have any."
"I've seen them. Several times." Roland kicked off his shoes and curled up on one end of an enormous sofa. He tucked his bare feet under his legs. "Are you here just to make me feel guilty?"
"You asked me to come look at your new wardrobe," Will answered. "As if I don't have a million other things to take care of."
"And you kept working the whole time. When do you relax?"
"Between midnight and five after." He tapped on his screen. "Do you want a summary or not?"
"Is it going to make me happy or upset?"
"Possibly both."
"Then start talking." Roland sighed and closed his eyes. He looked completely relaxed, almost asleep. Will knew better.
"The Gypsy Council has split into at least four factions. The infighting is unbelievable, both between the factions and within the factions themselves. No one is talking sense there. All trade negotiations have broken down until this is resolved."
"And where is their leader?"
"Jasyn? Somewhere out near Pelucid, terrorizing the local thug population. Roland, she never wanted the job. You pushed her into it. She's going to fight to stay out of it."
"She's the best person for it. You agreed with me."
"That I did. Then your best hope for the Gypsy Council is to find Dace and fast."
"And have you?"
"Found her? No. Not yet. Neither has Jasyn. Everett's report arrived late last night. They are still trying to track down the buyer. Everett claims that if we don't find her first, they are capable of starting their own galactic war. The current crew roster of the Phoenix includes Lowell, Paltronis, and Tayvis. Paltronis is wanted for stealing the Patrol armory on Fedrithus. They have enough firepower on that ship to blow up half a planet. And they have the expertise to do it."
"And you wish you were with them," Roland said. He studied Will from across the room, one of the informal sitting rooms they kept insisting he needed.
"Is it that obvious?" Will asked. "Dace is in trouble. Again. I owe her a lot, Roland. I can't help her much when I'm stuck here all the time."
"That's where you're wrong." Roland grinned. "This is a ship, isn't it? Tell me where to take it. The docking bays, at least the back four, are full of fighters."
Will stared at him. "They were installed for your protection. You insist this is your capital city. It needs defensive capabilities."
"And that is precisely what we are going to use them for. A preemptive strike, isn't that what the military advisors call it?"
"You're insane, Roland."
"Possibly." He cocked his head to one side. "I just need to know where to point this ship."
"It isn't that simple!"
"Why not?"
Will shook his head in exasperation.
"Look at it this way. We aren't going to rescue one person. We are staging a preemptive strike against organized crime. Rescuing Dace will be a side mission, one you will oversee personally. The stated objective will be to wipe out a nest of drug dealers and criminal masterminds."
"You know something."
"Have you heard of Shomies Pardui?" Roland's grin spread.
"I know her a lot better than I ever wanted to. What does she have to do with this? She was sentenced to life on a prison planet, if I remember correctly."
"She was. The planet was raided two years ago. She was one of the prisoners unaccounted for, along with at least twenty others from Dadilan."
"You've been holding out on me, Roland."
"I have my own network of informants. I thought it would be useful. You seem so overworked all the time, I didn't want to bother you."
Will didn't comment. He just waited for Roland to tell him.
"Anyway, I thought it would be prudent to keep track of anyone associated with the criminal element on Dadilan. They did have a large scale smuggling trade on the planet. I wanted to make certain it was dead."
"And?" Will prompted. "It was a smart move, Roland. I had tabs on them as well."
"But you quit watching after they were sent to prison. I started keeping track after they escaped." Roland bounced off the couch to pace around the room, dodging furniture. "Shomies Pardui was not only a noted linguist, but she was a fully trained in biogenics. She was on Dadilan not just to study the culture, but also to study how diet and nutrition and medicine had evolved on that world. She was there to study their drugs because she was an expert. What no one knew at her university until later was that she had been concocting drugs for years and testing them on her fellow students."
Will waited with as much patience as he could find. Roland's history lesson would have a relevant point. Eventually.
"She got involved with medicine because she herself has a rare inherited disorder that affects her metabolism. She underwent treatments for it every year or so. Very expensive. Her smuggling on Dadilan was partly to pay for those. In prison she didn't get the treatments. There aren't any pictures after the first exam. She must have destroyed them."
Roland paced furiously for a moment. He stopped abruptly and dropped back onto the sofa.
"She's behind the latest surge of illegal drugs. She's the one who invented dreamdust."
Will's mouth fell open.
"I've got some very good informants."
"That is an understatement if I ever heard one." Will frantically typed on his handcomp. "This puts a whole new dimension to that investigation."
"Will," Roland said patiently. Will kept typing. Roland repeated his name.
Will finally looked up. "What? Roland, I have to get moving on this. Dreamdust is the most addictive, dangerous drug to hit the market in years. We have to stop her."
"That's what I'm saying. I'm glad you agree with me."
"Now I'm confused."
Roland grinned. "Four months ago, Shomies Pardui sold off everything she had. She moved to a new location. And she spent well over half a million credits at a recent auction that sold mainly illegal weaponry. She bought one item."
"Dace."
"Now you understand. I have her current location. The captain of this ship says it will take us just
over a week to reach that location."
"So we move in and bust the drug ring." Will looked at his handcomp thoughtfully.
"I need you to convince the military to support us in this. We need to have enough firepower on our ship to handle whatever is at the planet."
"You also want me to have Everett conveniently find the coordinates and get them to Jasyn."
"Now you're beginning to understand." Roland closed his eyes again. "The ship will start moving in thirty six hours."
"That isn't much time."
"We've waited too long already." Roland opened one eye and looked at Will. "Why are you still here?"
Will stood, tucking the handcomp away. "Remind me not to underestimate you again."
Roland closed his eyes and grinned.
Chapter 47
I woke with every muscle in my body aching. My head felt swollen. I was shivering. I kept hearing Rivian tell me it was too late. I dragged myself into the bathroom. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was just a reaction to last night. Maybe I'd caught spacer's flu.
I splashed water over my face. Now I was too hot. The aching grew deeper, crawling into my bones. I staggered out and collapsed onto my blanket. My throat ached. The collar itched. I ran my finger under it.
The stairs creaked over my head. I didn't bother looking up. I knew who it was.
Shomies went to the kitchen first, not even looking my direction. The aching grew worse. My joints burned. There was definitely something wrong with me. I looked over at the chair where Rivian slept half the time. It was empty except for a bloodstained cloth.
The far door opened. Nione walked through the room, stopping only briefly to talk to Shomies. She went out the glass door into the courtyard. The glass was misted today. I couldn't see anything outside.
Time passed. Shomies ate breakfast at a leisurely pace. Rivian came silently down the stairs. He went straight to the kitchen. Shomies ignored him as he began cooking. The pain I felt grew worse. I kept hearing Rivian's words in my head, telling me about Shomies and her drugs. I couldn't shake the echo of his words. It's too late…
Shomies nudged me with her foot, sending sharp pains shooting up my legs and through my middle. I bit my lip to keep from screaming.