The waters spoke not of a challenge, but of death. Something morbid flavored the currents.
The ray phased into his semisolid form and floated out of his deepwater grotto. The time for listening to ocean whispers was past. Now was time to see for himself what was amiss in the sea.
Staying to ravines and deep chasms, the Sea Father of R'debh moved slowly toward the source of the sounds.
LXII
The data-trace faded as FlashMan ascertained which Embari com unit had transmitted the message. He deciphered its point-of-origin code, and hopped a tightbeam to Kesic Dome.
His hunch checked out. The video pickup on the target com unit came to life for a brief moment, activated by the Flash inside the system interface. Edesz was there alright, watching the League message rebroadcast on a screen across the room.
Home, the FlashMan congratulated himself, and just a-waiting on a vidcall. I'll see if I can't arrange that.
Reluctantly, Lish had decided to unload wines and exotic foods she had saved up for the storm season festivals, a quarter-year away. The money brought in by luxury items was needed for essential day-to-day expenses. Medcare for wounded Skiffjammers. More ammo. Replacement armor. She hated to spend the brief infusion of cash for such transient benefits, but had no choice. It was called staying afloat. If anything, the Holdout had to seem capable of business as usual, or every debt she owed would be called due immediately, and the quietly observing Scrip-man would be the first to pounce.
She had just concluded terms of delivery with an Avelar wholesaler when the FlashMan's telltale white noise severed her connection.
"Dammit, Flash!" she barked into the com unit. "Don't interrupt my calls like that. I need to finish talking to that man!"
"Would you rather talk to him, or talk to Edesz?" the netrunner asked sardonically.
Lish's breath caught in her throat. "Edesz?" It was not unexpected, but it was happening sooner than she was ready for. But this was a talk she'd rehearsed and prepared for. "Put him on," she agreed.
A moment later, Edesz' face filled the vidscreen on her console.
The water-breather wore a distracted look, giving more attention to his newsnet telecast than to his vidcall. His age was indeterminate, all the cues Lish knew to expect erased by his sea-adaptation. Edesz lacked eyelashes and hair and had only the finest of fuzz where an air-breather's eyebrows would be. His ears were small and tucked; his neck gills were closed in the airdome of his corns room, but pink striations marked the flaps that would flare when he was submerged in water. The edges of his protective eye membranes showed when he blinked, as he did when he saw Lish.
"What is it?" the Gambru League leader asked automatically, at the same time that he realized the woman he spoke with was not one of his friends or contacts. His eyes narrowed suspiciously; that expression remained wholly human. "Who are you?" he demanded. "How'd you get this code?"
Lish returned his gaze coolly. With a Shaydo gambler's poise, she said, "This is Shiran Gabrieya Lish. We haven't met, though we've done business."
"You!" Astonishment was clear to read on his pale face, his nictitating eyelids flicking down, then up in a reflex of surprise.
"Yes, me. You owe me money. You don't want to do that." Her declaration was flatly confident, sounding much like the FlashMan's initial threat to her.
Edesz' thin-haired brows furrowed deeply. "I don't owe you a thing."
"You took delivery of a cargo. You're using it. You owe. I expect payment—"
"Sea Father take you!" he interrupted. "You had a deal with Alia Lanzig. Leave me out of it."
"Alia's not around to deal with anymore, Edesz. Hadn't you heard?'' She shook her head, as if over a misbehaving student.
"I'm not talking with you," he snapped. His hand reached out and the vidscreen went blank.
Before Lish could take a breath, the screen came to life again. Edesz' image, half turned away, whirled back in consternation. "How—?"
"You're talking with me right now." Lish followed up FlashMan's silent assist with a harsh glare at the terrorist. She stabbed a finger at the water-breather. "You pay up, or I give you to Internal Security. They're hunting for you now, you know."
The man opened his mouth, shut it. A sly look came over his face. "If the Bugs get me, they get my datachips, too. Like the ones recording your agreement with Lanzig to import borgbeasts. You won't get paid, and you'll be put away along with me."
Lish gripped the armrests of her chair. Was it true? Was it a bluff? Could FlashMan verify, to see if Edesz really had such information stored in his comp somewhere? Before she could lose the initiative or stall for time, a status window lit on her console, and a text message from the FlashMan scrolled past on the screen.
"Tell him this. Read these words exactly."
At a loss for strategy, Lish played along with the gambit, and spoke the scrolling words as her own.
"Let me put this another way. Your borgbeasts are dying. Within two months, you won't have any left to work with. Only I know what's wrong with them, and only I can give you a cure for it. You pay for the beasts, you get the cure. If there's no money..." Lish shrugged expressively. "There'll be no borgbeasts."
Edesz flushed, a subtle color change on his sea-adapted skin. "What are you talking about? The beasts are fine."
"Insist you're right," the FlashMan's screen prompt read.
"Check with your handlers about that," Lish replied boldly. "I'd say you have just a few weeks before it's too late to help your pets."
She leaned closer to the vid pickup. "So you think about how long you want to put off paying me, Edesz. That's 10 million, in case you don't remember. Cash. If Alia left you her datachips, I'm sure she left you some account codes, too. And next time I try to reach you?" She raised an admonishing finger. "Don't duck my calls."
She slapped the disconnect, then spoke into the com link with her next breath. "You care to tell me what the hell that was all about?"
A small static burst announced that the FlashMan was back on the channel. "It's about a fortune, baby." The netrunner sounded more smug than usual.
"Is this a bluff or is it real? What's wrong with the borgbeasts?"
"All in good time. Before we do show and tell, let's talk about our terms.''
"Terms? We already have a deal."
"And I honor my deals. But I came across something worth a little extra, a tidbit about the beasties hidden in Lanzig's personal net files. What's it worth to you?"
"Dammit, FlashMan—" Lish sat up stiffly, a muscle clenching in her jaw. "Don't try to leverage me like this."
"Leverage you? Wouldn't dream of it. But I've come across something a little unexpected, and I know what it's worth to you. He owes you 10 million, you said?"
The netrunner's mildly mocking tone got on every raw nerve Lish had been nursing for the past two weeks. She came to her feet, blind to the door panel that slid open at that moment and the woman who walked boldly into her office.
"By Juro's brass balls! Where do you get off putting words in my mouth and then backing down when it's time to deliver the goods? What kind of spineless, conniving, honorless datajacker are you, anyway?" She was heating up to her topic when she saw Reva standing near her desk. "You agreed to get... to help..."
"Still yelling at people?" the assassin observed dryly.
FlashMan, monitoring Lish's office through her com system vid pickup, spoke through the external speaker. "Heya, Reva. Talk sense to your friend, will you?"
The conversation gone suddenly askew, Lish looked from the console that concealed a manipulative netrunner to the woman she had never thought to see again, now standing across from her. The smuggler threw up her hands in surrender and sat down.
Reva frowned at Lish's reaction. "FlashMan, you bothering the Domna here?"
"Bothering? Me? Naw—merely drumming up some business." |
"Like you've drummed me a time or two? I think not. Leave us for a while, will you? You can talk later."
"Yeah? Well. Humor me. You might work for me again sometime soon."
"Hmph." Mercurial as always, the FlashMan took the hint. | "Sure thing, babe. Talk to you soon, Lish." A static burst signaled his disconnect, and the smuggler heaved a sigh of relief. Reva dropped into a chair opposite, sitting with studied ease.
"Timely interference, as usual," Lish said, knowing Reva had just spared a rift with the FlashMan.
The assassin took the remark differently.
"I didn't mean to ruin your deal with Lanzig," she said forthrightly. The words tumbled out rapidly, at odds with the aloof look she struggled to keep on her face. "I didn't know you had business with her. If I had known, I would have waited until you got paid."
Lish pressed her hands to her temples, leaned her head back in her chair. "Lords of Ice, this is a surreal conversation." She dropped her hands and locked eyes with the assassin. "What are you doing here, Reva?"
"If you want me to go, I will. We don't have to talk." The tall woman sat up, chin held high, preparing to stand. She seemed uncertain, ready to let her pride carry her back out the door she had just come through.
"Oh, sit down." Lish waved her to stay, came around the desk, and sat on the float-couch nearby. She pulled her feet up and leaned on the couch's arm. "You caught me at a bad time," she said, "but any time seems bad, these days. I'm just surprised to see you again. I want to know why you came back."
Reva looked startled, as if prepared for any question but that one. She licked her lips nervously before speaking.
"I wanted you to know I wasn't trying to hurt you, by what happened. I wouldn't do that to a, a friend, if I could help it." She stumbled over the words. "There are some things you need to realize, about Karuu, about—"
Lish shook her head. "He's gone to ground, and we're beating the Islanders back. There's nothing to worry about, Reva."
"So I shouldn't have returned, is that what you're saying?"
Lish bit her lip. "I'm not mad at you anymore," she sighed. "You were right. You didn't know about my arrangements with Lanzig. It's just that now I have to dig my way out of a hell of a hole, and I don't know if I can do it. You understand what I mean?"
Reva took in her words and seemed to relax a little, as if a blow she had been braced for had not fallen. She sat in silence, processing what the Holdout had just said, and a sympathetic expression came over her face.
"I understand." She finally nodded. "And there's a few other things you need to understand."
"Like what?"
"Like the fact that Karuu is not his own boss. He works for someone named Adahn."
"What's this to me?" Lish asked.
"Adahn is a crime boss," Reva said. "He won't simply roll over and let Karuu go down like this. He'll do something to reestablish his power on R'debh, and that makes you a target."
Lish quirked a lip. "Seems like I'm everybody's target these days. I can't be concerned with some offworlder who bankrolled Karuu. It's bad enough with the FlashMan trying to squeeze me."
The pair sat for a bit, each uncertain how to proceed or what she could share with the other. Lish finally broke the impasse. "Have a drink with me?" she offered. Reva gave a noncommittal bob of the head.
Lish went to a cabinet, came back with a decanter of Cada-nessa. She poured two glasses of the fruity ruby red wine, and Reva sat more comfortably in her chair. It was a plain effort to recall the camaraderie of Des'lin, and the assassin took it with good grace. They touched glasses and drank for a while in silence. "What kind of trouble is the FlashMan giving you?" Reva finally ventured.
Lish twirled her glass by its stem. "He's trying to rewrite our terms," she said, and explained the deal she had struck with the netrunner. Finding Edesz was half the battle, but the unexpected threat about dying borgbeasts had left her puzzled, and things had gone rocky with the FlashMan before she could learn more.
"How are things, otherwise?" Reva prodded, and the Holdout found herself unburdening her worries on someone she had once spoken freely with every day.
At the end of her recital, she refilled their glasses and sat in glum reflection. "Every time I see this mess, it looks as bad as before," she remarked. "Can I squeeze money from Edesz in time to pay the Scripman? Probably not without FlashMan's help. The streetwar's not half done, and the Skiffjammers' contract is up in five more days. Still can't run cargos offworld, so there's no new income there. After the protection's gone, I'm fair game for the Islanders." She snorted. "You sure picked a hell of a time to come visit."
Reva spent a long time studying the contents of her wineglass, and Lish left her to it. Suddenly the assassin drained the glass and set it down. When her hand came up again, she held a silver-hued credit chit between her fingers. "I'm not here just for a visit," she said. "Here. Take this."
"What is it?" The Holdout didn't reach for the chit, so Reva tossed it at her. It landed in her lap. She picked it up and eyed the hologram that denoted its 50,000 CR denomination. "I can't take this," she protested quickly, and extended the chit back to Reva.
"You have to," the assassin replied. "How else are you going to renew the Skiffjammer contract for a couple more weeks?"
Lish scrutinized the woman across from her. "I don't want to take your money."
Reva shrugged that off. "Then consider it a loan. There's more where that came from. I don't want to see you go under because I fixed it so you can't afford protection."
"It's not your fault that—"
"It is, dammit." She rushed on before Lish could say anything. "Let me do what I can to help you. It's not a lot, and I can't pay off all your debts, but I do have some influence. Let me use it, will you?"
It was both entreaty and angry challenge, but the smuggler heard beyond the words to the anguish underneath. It was like her own turmoil, buried in the rush to save her business and her life, no time left to pay attention to unresolved people issues, not Devin, not Reva ...
And here was a second chance, come knocking on her door all of its own accord.
She looked at the money in her hand, and back to the assassin. It's not that easy, she wanted to say. Apology accepted; fine. If you want to help, alright. But given this way, it's more than help. It's roi'tas, honor-debt—and I don't hold roi'tas with anyone.
Then cash flow and debt-ratio and payment schedules for the Skiffjammers intruded in her thoughts, and Lish knew she had no choice. Without this money, she'd be out of business before the week was up.
She closed her fingers around the credit chit, and nodded her thanks. "If you're sure that's how you want it, fine. Let's see what we can do together."
LXIII
"It was most unscrupulous setup, very foul," Karuu insisted. He slapped a broad, flat foot against the carpet in agitation. This interview was not going as well as he had expected. This man did not seem to grasp the depth of perfidy his Holdout had suffered on Selmun III.
"Lish is ambitious, grasping, surely big-time threat to us on R'debh. Worst-ever smuggler I have ever crossed paths with ..." His voice died away under Adahn Harric's unblinking scrutiny. He had met the crime boss twice before, and the man had changed little. Grown beefier, with grayer hair, but still with the cold, heartless eyes of a street killer.
Those eyes riveted Karuu, and brought the Dorleoni stuttering to a halt. Effortlessly Harric took charge of the conversation.
"I've heard enough of your blustering. Answer a question for me, Karuu."
The Holdout gaped, then forced his mouth shut. Blustering, was it?
"Do you know why this Shiran Lish picked you to set up as shipowner for the Delos Varte's smuggling run?"
"No, I cannot guess—"
"No reason at all, hm? The biggest Holdout on Selmun was simply the most convenient target?"
The acerbic comment punctured Karuu's pretense of ignorance. "Perhaps because I was going to turn her over for the smuggling..." he confessed.
"As you suggested, sir!" Karuu declared, briefly defiant. "She was far more tricky than we gave her credit for."
"Than you gave her credit for, you mean." Harric's expression matched the sour note in his voice. "You were responsible for making sure that surface shipping moves untroubled in Selmun waters. Do you remember that, Karuu?"
The Dorleoni started to nod, then shrank as Adahn's voice grew in volume. "What do you think borgbeasts are for, you dimwitted excuse for an overseer? You learned all about them. What do you think they're intended for?"
Adahn's tone became ominous, sarcastic. The smuggler spluttered and spread his hands. They had been over this territory already; what did Harric want him to confess?
"You were going to let the borgbeasts land, and then release them yourself, you ignorant turd! Have you followed the news on your way here at all? No? Listen to this."
Adahn jabbed a button on his desk console, and a newsnet announcement played into the darkened room. Karuu stood under the glaring lights and listened to the words with growing disbelief. "This afternoon surface freighters of Lovana Shipping Corporation were sunk in the Bennap Run," the recorded voice began. ' 'Like others of their kind, they carried surface-made goods at monopoly prices to water-breathers...."
Adahn let the message play through. By its end, Karuu was panting with nervous tension. "I—I didn't know. Couldn't know! They're using them to sink shipping, your shipping? I, I would have stopped it if I'd known. I—"
"Shut up."
Silence fell, punctuated by the Dorleoni's gasping breath.
"Do you know what this means?" Adahn's voice was deceptively gentle. "It means your Holdout operations are of the very least importance to me anymore. We have just one interest of overriding importance on Selmun III. Do you know what that is?"
Karuu forced words out, an inarticulate mumble.
"What?"
"The shipping concerns," the Holdout repeated more clearly.
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