“What?” Jack was confused until he realized that Akira was referring to Lolita. “Oh, Nifflheim, I didn’t even think about that….”
Akira laughed. “Relax, Jack. I’m just yanking your chain. Lolita was completely out of here before Betty put the moves on you last night.”
The elder Holloway let out a long breath. “Well, that’s a relief… wait, she put the moves on me?”
Akira nodded. “Let me guess, she challenged you to a game of poker, lost all her money, and switched to throwing her clothes in the kitty, which she also lost all of. Sound about right?”
Jack grimaced. “From what I can recall. Last night is more than a little hazy after that point.”
“You didn’t start drinking with her, did you? Your medications….”
“Nothing stronger than tea. However, I learned this morning that caffeine doesn’t mix with some of the meds.” The pair sat on a bench that overlooked the dog pens. “I was hoping Betty didn’t think I took advantage of her last night.”
“Ha! If there is a victim in this it was you. Betty likes older men because they tend to be more stable. Don’t worry; she doesn’t have any ‘daddy issues’.”
Jack admitted he was relieved to hear that. “Does she do this sort of thing often?”
“Actually, no. Oh, she plays the odd game of strip poker, usually at parties where everybody joins in, and more often than not is the last one undressed. She’s actually a bit of a card sharp. And before you get the wrong idea, she only sleeps with men she is seriously interested in. Believe me, she doesn’t get that interested all that often. She broke up with Frank Patel last month and hasn’t been with anybody since.”
“Humph.” Jack reached for his pipe only to find that the pocket was empty and mentally cursed the doctors. “In that case, I hope she wasn’t disappointed with my performance last night. Don’t let it get around, but I don’t entertain very much myself.”
“Since she is currently cleaning your kitchen, I would say you did all right. She doesn’t play maid for just anybody, either.” Akira leaned back on the bench and stretched her arms over her head. “So, Mr. John Morgan Holloway the Greater, what are your intentions towards my friend?”
“Now don’t you start that Greater nonsense,” Jack said. “Morgan is the Freyan, not me. As for Betty, well, I don’t really know, Akira. She’s a nice girl and if I was about thirty or forty years younger—I never robbed the cradle before.”
Akira smirked. “Pretty big cradle, Jack. You like her, don’t you?”
“What’s not to like? Betty is a free spirit without all those pesky inhibitions most Terrans lug around and secretly hate. Don’t tell anyone, especially Morgan, but she reminds me a bit of his mother…and mine.” Akira looked surprised. “No, not like that. Betty sees what she wants and goes after it, and isn’t afraid to put some effort into the project. Adonitia went after me, not the other way around. I actually resisted getting involved as I wasn’t sure I would be staying on Freya. I wasn’t able to hold out for long, though. She had me hooked and reeled in short of a Terran month. After I learned about her death I pretty much lost interest in dating.”
“Really? But didn’t you still, um…?”
“That’s none of your business, young lady, or do you want me poking my nose into your doings with my son?”
Akira blushed a little at that. “Jack, about Morgan and me. Well….”
Before Akira could finish, Little Fuzzy rode up on Trigger yelling something. It took a moment before he calmed down enough to explain about the accident during the hunt. “We make splint like you teach us, and a travois to bring Bird Chaser back on.”
“Good job, Little Fuzzy. We’ll get him to the doctor and put a cast on that arm. Akira, can you call Lynne Andrews and let her know we have a patient?”
“On my way.” Akira jumped up and hot-footed it back to the cabin to make the call.
“Where is the rest of your hunting party, Little Fuzzy,” Jack asked.
“They bring damnthing meat on hide. Take many dogs and go slow. I come fast with Bird Chaser to fix bad arm.”
Bird Chaser had to have taken a lot of jarring behind a fast moving dog, even on the travois. Try as he might, Jack couldn’t get it across to the Fuzzies that hurrying could be a bad thing in such instances.
“Pappy Jack, we make talk about idea I have?”
“Sure, Little Fuzzy. Right after we make sure Bird Chaser is all fixed up.”
* * * * * * * * *
While The Bitter End was closed until 1500 Alpha Time as a rule, the sealed hardwood doors were insufficient to prevent the horde of gate crashers that swarmed in. In the lead were officers Piet and Chang in riot gear and gas masks, armed with sono-stunners and pacification rifles, followed by twenty cops similarly equipped. A sleep-gas grenade sailed over to the middle of the dance floor and exploded, sending the powerful knockout gas spreading throughout the lounge. Two burly men who had been reaching under their jackets fell unceremoniously onto a table knocking it over. They were disarmed, cuffed and left where they were. The officers quickly spread throughout the floor. Piet took the stairs with six men while Chang secured the lower level and sent a squad to check the kitchen and behind the bar.
On the upper floor the officers methodically checked every door and hallway until they arrived at Raul Laporte’s office.
Unlike the other doors, this one was made of metal that defied all attacks. Piet tapped on the door with the butt of his rifle. It was like hitting a granite mountain. Piet swore luridly.
“Collapsium-laminated,” he said. “Probably over poly-steel, not that it matters. We won’t be breaking through this door, damnit.”
“You think the walls are collapsium, too?” Montgomery van Damme asked.
“I doubt it.” Piet tapped the walls next to the door. They sounded hollow. “Good catch, Monty. Somebody go back to the transport and get a couple of vibro-hammers. We should be able to break through this in about half a minute.”
The door slid open to reveal a tall, thin man with sandy hair. “I would rather you didn’t do that. Is there something I can do to help you, gentlemen?”
“We have a warrant for the arrest of Raul Laporte,” Piet proclaimed. “Please step aside.”
The sandy-haired man did as instructed and Piet quickly moved into the office, followed by the rest of the squad. Van Damme covered the civilian while the rest went through the room, looking for any place Laporte could be hiding in or could have exited through. Piet noticed with disgust that the inner walls were also collapsium-covered. The vibro-hammers would never have gotten through.
“Mr. Laporte no longer owns this establishment, gentlemen. I do.”
Piet turned to the man. “And you are?”
“Ricardo La Rue, officer.”
“When did you acquire this business?” van Damme asked.
“About an hour ago,” La Rue said. He pointed at some papers on the desk. “I have the documents here to back my claim.”
“When did he leave? Where was he going?” Piet demanded.
La Rue glanced at his wrist chronometer. “About thirty minutes ago, and I am sure I have no idea where he was going.”
Piet swore under his breath as he pulled out his radio. “Dispatch, we need to send a team to the spaceport. Alert the management there not to sell anybody even close to matching Laporte’s description an off-world ticket. Have them swab for DNA for anybody who even vaguely matches his description trying to leave.” Piet returned his attention to Ricardo La Rue. “Now just where did you come from?”
La Rue took the seat behind the desk, and then said, “If I am to be subjected to a battery of questions, I think I will need to contact my attorney.”
Piet had expected something to that effect. “You do that. Have him meet you at the station.”
* * * * * * * * *
Ruth walked into the office and made a beeline toward Jack. Jack hadn’t heard the aircar come in over the barking and howling of the dogs bu
t knew it had to be a visitor. The hypersonic noise generated by the contragravity tended to hurt the dogs’ ears.
“Ruth, got more young bodies for me?”
“Actually, yes. Three boys and two more girls.”
“All in their early teens with raging hormones,” Jack said as he rubbed his forehead. “I’ll have to start carrying a shotgun to keep them apart.”
“Jack, can I talk to you about something?” Jack indicated a chair and Ruth sat down. “It’s about Gerd….”
“The job offer?”
“He told you about it?”
“Not yet,” Jack said as his chronometer started beeping. “One sec.” Jack took out his pill box and washed a few pills down with his tea. Decaffeinated. “Victor gave me a call. He felt it wasn’t kosher to poach my deputy without a heads up.”
Ruth nodded thoughtfully. “Jack, what do you think?”
“About the job? Sounds like a great opportunity, and he’d be crazy to pass it up. Especially if that thing you hinted at the other day is what I think.”
Ruth looked confused, then her face brightened. “Oh! That. Um… what did you think it was?”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Ruth, you two are young and healthy and have been married for two years. I’m a bit surprised you don’t already have any rug-rats underfoot.”
Ruth nodded and said, “Gerd doesn’t know, yet.”
Nothing good was ever preceded by a statement like that, thought Jack. “Why not?”
“I’m not sure if I should…”
“Money troubles.”
“What? How…?”
“You wouldn’t be here to talk me into letting Gerd go, otherwise.” Jack leaned forward and placed a fatherly hand on Ruth’s shoulder. “Look, you two are like family and I want things to go well for you. I think Gerd should take the job. I can get a new deputy.” Jack smiled and added, “One who would actually be here instead of working on Alpha Continent.”
“I’ve also been offered my old job back, too.”
“Et tu, Ruth-ay?”
“We don’t want to leave, Jack.” Ruth pointed out the window at some Fuzzies who were bathing their dogs. “They’re like family.”
“Well, there are Fuzzies on Alpha, too, you know.”
Ruth shook her head. “All adopted and civilized. Well, as civilized as Fuzzies get, anyway. This is where the action is, Jack.”
“I’m confused. Do you want me to talk him into taking the job, or talk him out of it?”
Ruth sighed. “I don’t know, really. Things were so much easier when I was spying for the TFN.”
“Easier!” Jack laughed. “Tell you what; I’ll think about it and see what I can come up with. I’ll try to squeeze Ben for a raise. Maybe he can match Victor’s offer?”
“I doubt that. If Gerd takes the job he’ll make more than you do.”
“Really? Is Victor looking for more people? Just kidding. Now let’s go meet these walking hormones you just brought in and get them settled.”
* * * * * * * * *
Gus Brannhard swore in every language he knew, which covered a great deal of territory. “We had him! We had that goddamned illegitima son of a diseased Khooghra but good. How did he find out?”
Max Fane gritted his teeth in frustration. “He had an inside man. There’s no other explanation. I’m having everybody, cop, civilian, lawyer, and even judge in the damned building questioned under veridication.”
“Forget about the judges and shysters, Max. You’ll never get them in the seat. The rest are fair game. Keep your questions limited to Laporte, though. We trample too many civil liberties and we’ll be next on the hot seat.” Gus shook his head. “Ben’s gonna give birth to a damnthing when he hears about this.”
“As long as we control the spaceport, Laporte is trapped on-planet,” Coombes pointed out.
“Don’t you believe it, Leslie. A little cosmetic surgery and we wouldn’t know him from a bush goblin,” Max said. “Remember that little conversation we had with Thaxter in the interrogation room two months ago?’
“Cosmetic surgery…” Coombes chewed on that for a moment. “How do we know this Ricardo La Rue isn’t Raul Laporte with a facelift? Hell, he even has the same initials, more or less.”
Max Fane shook his head. “It would take weeks for the surgical scars to heal, even with neo-dermaplas.” Naturally a cop would be up on that sort of thing. “The face takes the longest to heal from cosmetic reconstruction. Laporte vanished today.”
“What is to stop him from getting the surgery months ago and wearing a synth-mask until today?” Coombes looked around the room. “For that matter, he might be wearing one now waiting for those scars to heal.”
Gus and Max silently considered that. “How would we prove it?” Max asked. “We can’t just walk up and tweak his nose just to see if it falls off.”
“DNA?” posited Gus.
Max shook his head. “Laporte’s DNA was never on file. We never had enough on him to compel a sample. Believe me, I tried. There might be something on Terra, but it would take a year to get it. As it is, we had to stop taking samples at the spaceport. Without something to compare it to, it was just a waste of time.”
“And a potential civil rights violation. It was a long shot, anyway. I mean, come on, he had surgery done months ago based on the possibility that two guys would show up to kidnap me?” Gus snorted and lit a cigar. “Not to mention putting up with the discomfort of a synthmask for several months. And why walk around with a synthmask now? It would be safer and easier to just go to ground until the scars healed, then step up and claim ownership of The Bitter End. No, we’re barking up the wrong tree, there.”
Coombes lit a cigarette. “Then where did this Ricardo La Rue come from?”
“Maybe came in with the last rush of immigrants,” Gus said. “Maybe he was here all along but stayed off the radar. Who knows? We’ll just have to keep an eye on him while we tear the planet apart looking for Laporte.”
“First Thaxter, now Laporte,” Max Fane growled. “This job is gonna be the death of me. I may yet have to tender my resignation.”
“Don’t start typing, yet, Marshal,” Gus said. “There are still a lot of people to interview, and something may shake loose.” Gus looked through the two-way mirror at Ricardo La Rue sitting in the interrogation room. “I’ll get a court order for a medical exam on Mr. La Rue under the assumption that he is, in fact, Laporte. We’ll look for signs of cosmetic surgery. I doubt we’ll be able to get his DNA, but we don’t have Raul’s either, so it doesn’t really matter. Still, I want to know where this guy came from.”
Max drummed his fingers on the wall next to the glass. “DNA we can get. There’s more than one way to get a sample.”
XIII
“Have you thought about opening a satellite division on Beta Continent, Victor?” Jack asked. “This is where the action is, after all.”
Through the viewscreen Victor Grego looked thoughtful. “Actually, that was part of my long-term plans back when the Company owned the planet outright. I scrapped it after the Pendarvis Decision and never got back to it.”
“Well, hell, with that millennium-long lease you have, you pretty much own the planet, again.” Jack took a drink of his tea, then set it down, wishing he could smoke his pipe. “Here’s what I think: you want Gerd and Ruth back, they don’t want to leave the Fuzzies. Fine. Just set up the Beta Division and let Gerd run it. Wait, what did you want him for, anyway?”
“It was a suggestion Juan Jimenez made. Gerd knows more about Fuzzies than any man on Zarathustra. Sorry, Jack, but he has training that you don’t.”
Jack shrugged. “You think I don’t know that? I got old by recognizing my limitations. I’m a generalist, Gerd is a specialist. And if my ego needed boosting, I figure I’m still a better shot, pistol or rifle.”
Grego smiled his toothy grin. He should have known Jack wouldn’t be offended by a statement of fact. “Well, the future of Zarathustra is tied to the Fuzzies. I kn
ow it, you know it and Ben knows it. They won’t be incompetent aborigines forever. Fuzzies learn fast; faster than any other species we’ve found to date. It won’t be tomorrow or the day after, but the time is coming when we’ll have to sign treaties with them. I want a man, and a woman, for that matter, whom I can trust to study the growth and changes in the Fuzzies. It has to be somebody not saddled with a lot of preconceptions. Juan thinks Gerd is that man. Ernst supports Ruth for the job. So, I want them both if I can get them. If I have to set up Beta Division to get them, it’s a done deal. Now, how do we talk them into it?”
Jack laughed. “I think it’s, how did Gus put it at my trial…oh, yes; it’s all over except shooting the cripples.”
* * * * * * * * *
Affanita sat on her cot and stared at the glowing stones in her hands. She had looked them over thoroughly, even under her portable microscope. They were sunstones, all right. So where did that Richard guy get them from, and why ask her to sell them? If they were fake, that she could understand. She would get arrested for fraud and Richard would find another sucker. But these were real, and he just gave them to her. No strings.
She was almost broke and the diggings had been poor. She had a fistful of sunstones and nobody to tell her what to do with them. Affanita poured the stones back into the leather pouch, strapped on her pistol belt and headed for the door. It was time to improve her fortunes.
Affanita left her apartment and waited at the taxi stand after pressing the call button. A few minutes later, a cab swooped down and opened the hatch.
“Where to, Bubbette?” the driver asked.
“Bub—, have we met before?”
“I dropped you off last night,” the cabbie explained. “I left a note with dispatch to route me to any calls in this area. I had planned on checking in to see if you were all right. I didn’t expect you to call for a cab, so you saved me a trip to your apartment.”
“Wait, you dropped me off? How did you get into my apartment?”
“The landlord. We just set you on your bed and left. I just wanted to be sure you were okay. No funny business, I promise. The landlord seemed decent enough, but you can’t judge a book by its cover, y’know.”
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