by Pam Uphoff
"I know." She still had to tamp down a smile. She'd been so sure they were both pseudos, and now they'd gone collectively gaga and had each pouched an egg. "I'll, umm talk to somebody." With that nebulous assurance, he withdrew, leaving her to her negotiations.
The next eight days was a whirlwind of com messages and meetings. She traveled to Imperial City twice, managed to squeeze in a dinner with Trev ("You are such a Bad little fem! Colonel S'trooth wants to kiss your feet for saving him from having to prosecuting ninety percent of the biotech companies on the planet, everybody else wants your head for stealing evidence." "And you?" "Oh, I want your head and all the rest of you as well.")
Apru and Sbozoi waffled between horror and avarice, and she was given an assistant.
She was surprised to see the teenager sitting sullenly in the outer office. "Hi, Elissy, I thought school was back in session?"
The girl glared. "I flunked out. Big deal. I never wanted to be a lawyer." Her flush brought out an unfortunate spread of spots on her face; the tiny infected scales plagued most teenagers, but Elissy had a bumper crop.
A year ago she'd gone off to University with her snoot in the air expecting to whiz through pre-law.
She hunched her shoulders and scowled. "Dad says I have to work part time and take classes at night. At Metro."
"Metro's a good place to take a wide selection of subjects and figure out what you want to do." Xaero mentioned mildly.
Elissy's spines straightened up. "And when am I supposed to have a life?"
"When you can afford to tell your Dad to bite sand, and walk out."
Elissy's mouth dropped open in shock.
"There will be plenty of slices of time in between here and there." Xaero told her. "And you'll have your own money."
"Ha!" she snorted. "Dad says I have to pay rent."
"He is pissed isn't he?" Xaero hadn't ever been close to her Uncle Hravi. He hadn't approved of his older brother's marriage to a Dry Scale. "Look up prices for cheap student housing near the college. If you work full time you should be able to afford something."
"In the slums!" Elissy looked appalled that her cousin would suggest such a thing. "And if I work full time I'll have even less time for me!"
Xaero sighed. The girl would just have to work it out herself.
With the contracts rolling in and negotiations in full swing, there was plenty of work to keep her busy. "Miss C'ank, why don't you show Elissy how to make up the folders for the next round, and set her to finishing them."
"I'd be delighted." Miss C'ank smiled at Elissy like a hungry herfit. "Oh." She switched expressions instantly, looking down her nose at Xaero. "A person who claimed to be named Trev left a comm contact but no message. He said it was personal." Her voiced dripped scorn for a pseudo who would do things like that.
Across the hall in Raelphi's office something hit the floor with a crash.
"Thank you," Xaero said. "Carry on."
Chapter Two
"So," Trev surveyed the less-than-spacious, bare office with satisfaction. "I'm pretending to be hiding out, very cautiously contacting L'azlod's contacts who have failed to return home after he failed to pulverize Imperial City."
"Contacts? Is that Cop speak for fellow criminals?"
"And possibly allies or even superiors. The lizard was infuriatingly good at keeping secrets. I couldn't get past the REM operational management. The Space Base fiasco showed that he's got a lot going on that we didn't have a clue about. He had a crystal with the course corrections for the icy body all programmed in and ready to go. We have no idea where he got it, but the final list of the missing has some really high powered scientists on it. And some critical equipment."
"Equipment? Stuff he needed to take over after Imperial City was destroyed?"
He scowled. "I don't know. It was highly experimental stuff, so classified they decided I only needed to know what it looks like, not how it works, or even what it does."
The Very Large Lizard ducked carefully through the smallish doorway. "All clear, at least where I could fit." He scowled at the ceiling and stretched carefully, his top spines brushing the ceiling.
"I can't believe you bought a whole building." Xaero said.
"Only technically," Trev said. "It was repossessed for back taxes, and the Properties Division was just done repairing it and getting it up to standard for sale. So we have to give it back when we're done."
"Won't that look odd?"
"Nah, everyone knows if you nip the right frills, you can get government stuff under the table." Trev grinned, probably at her expression. "Naive? You? Anyway, a lot of L'azlod's people have seen me hanging around, even when we weren't introduced, so I shouldn't have any problems once I can find them, or let them find me."
"So, I'm now Trevi D'herio." He glanced at his bodyguard. "I'll have to think of something for the nannies. What do you think?"
"Perhaps some nicknames?" Xaero joined him in teasing the Big Lizard. "I'm afraid that, not having been formally introduced until recently, I'd labeled you The Very Large Lizard."
"I like it." Sergeant Gergi grinned. "Just call me Vee for short. How arty!" He ducked back out, snickering.
"So, will most of the people here be Imperial guards or Dims?"
"Dims. I managed to talk my way out of a full up bodyguard contingent for now. Ger—Vee will have two backups; they'll be here tomorrow, probably. Everybody else will be DMS on a traitor hunt. Until we catch some," Trev added. "The upper floors are being turned into tiny apartments, so we can act as a 'safe house' while we collect more of our strays. You'll have to be careful what you say, around us or about us, starting, well, just about now."
Xaero wandered out looking over the rather seedy building. "You need some cheap pseudo in clothes she couldn't possibly afford on her salary sitting out there. How are the Dims set for floosies?"
He sighed. "Poorly. The pseudofems that go for law enforcement are the cream of the crop, they have trouble getting their heads around the concept of acting cheap instead of professional. I may have to hire an outsider."
She chewed a claw uncertainly. "Silver and Gold . . . have you decided about prosecuting them?"
"I . . . " He trailed off. "They'd be perfect, wouldn't they?"
"Would they be known by L'azlod's contacts?" She shook her head. "Raelphi's going to kill me. Did you know they're expecting?"
"We heard. Both of them." He hissed a bit, then looked over as Vee came back, trailed by a wiry older lizard. "What's your opinion of hiring Silver and Gold to handle reception and communications?"
Vee winced. "They'd be perfect. We'd have to keep them in the dark, though, they chatter like cheepers."
The older lizard squinted at Xaero, tapped his claws together and fidgeted, stroking the stubby muzzle spines that declared his age and wisdom. "From what I've read they'd increase our cover without actually being a threat. So, I finally get to meet Trev's lawyer." He changed the subject abruptly.
"Xaero L'svages," she extended a hand.
He grinned suddenly and clasped her hand to his chest. "Delighted to meet you at last. I believe that today I shall be, umm. Never mind, they don't let me play anymore. I'm Captain Renfu W'ufda, in theory this reprobate's superior officer." He jerked his muzzle in Trev's direction. "I'll be coming and going and assigning people as needed. Here's my number, please call any time." He whipped out a blank rectangle of thick paper and scribbled on it before handing it over. "I regret that my own days of undercover work are in the past." He looked around and sighed. "This would be so fun."
"If you can tell me, how on Mars do you plan on contacting these people?" Xaero looked around the barren offices. "And what sort of business are you going to pretend to be?"
"Publishers." Trev stuck his nose in the air and thickened his Imperial City drawl. "We are opening a small office out here in the hinterlands in hopes of picking up some new local talent, Miss L'svages. Perhaps we'll do a tea table book about the history of the second oldest law firm
on the planet."
W'ufda snorted. "Don't get carried away. Although if it takes too long I suppose you will have to actually publish something. And in the mean time Trev will display himself semi-discreetly about town and hopefully the people we are looking for will come to us."
"There's the Annual Children's Charity Ball in seven days, is that too indiscreet?"
Trev shuddered. "I hate charity balls."
"Perfect!" his boss contradicted. "You'll have to duck vids, so no one back home recognizes you, which will be suitably sinister from our targets' point of view." He smirked at Trev's glare. "And just think, for the first time you can dance with someone who pushes the limits of your libido, instead of your gag reflex!"
Trev started looking worried. "Dancing. I haven't danced since . . . look I'm not going to embarrass myself in public am I?"
W'ufda snickered. "Poor fellow, you're too old and set in your ways for this to be happening to you. Don't worry, we'll spray you down with stuff to subdue your chemicals, and your reactions to same, and most of the trufems will be doing likewise."
Xaero cleared her throat. "I should warn you that some relatives spotted us having dinner. The gossip is all over the Firm. You are going to attract a lot of, umm, very nosey old ladies."
"I hate charity balls."
"And Raelphi put two and two together and is horrified that I'm associated with a wanted criminal. I tried to hint that I was helping the authorities, but I'm not sure it took. Maybe Gold and Silver are a bad idea."
"And nosy nephews." Trev scratched his shedding temples. Unless she missed her guess, he was another male that was going to have a fine crop of secondary spines in short order. "All right, I'll talk to him tonight. If I make it sound like Silver and Gold are earning their pardons, umm, yes, he could keep their pent up and recently discovered goodism under control."
"No," W'ufda said. "I will talk to them. You will remain a Bad Guy. This Raelphi will be their official control."
***
Raelphi was very subdued and quiet the next day. Xaero sent him off to research more company affiliations. The District archives were a nice private spot for thinking. Poor kid. Or perhaps she should say, poor kids. Gold and Silver weren't much older, and in some ways were even more naive than Raelphi.
With great reluctance she called Danca. "Aunt Danca? Are you handling the charity ball tickets again this year?"
"Why Xaero, are you actually interested in observing the cultural forms?" Danca sneered.
"Yes, I know I've never been interested before. Oh well, if you haven't got any more, it's no big deal. Trev wasn't too enthusiastic about . . . "
"Your 'New Friend?'" Xaero could actually heard the quotes around the term. "You actually want to bring him?"
"Well, I suppose if you don't want to meet him . . . "
A long silence, while dignity fought with curiosity and lost. "I suppose we must. Shall I send down two tickets, then?"
Arg! How many bodyguards? The VLL, for sure . . . "Well, since it's a charitable cause, I'll take four."
That snapped Danca-the-volunteer's predatory instincts into top gear. "Oh, really, dear. With all the work you're pulling down, surely you can do better than that. It's for the children."
"Oh, all right, I don't actually know that many people who'd actually go, but as you say, it's for a good cause. I'll take ten."
Gee, I guess all the bodyguards get to come too! And W'ufda if he's around. She bit her lip, giggling at the thought of showing up with W'ufda and introducing him as her 'New Friend'. Would Trev think it was funny, or was he one of those possessive trumales whose senses of humor atrophied after attachment? I don't know anything about him!
She thanked her aunt, promised to send her assistant to pick them up and drop off a chit, and signed off. The comp informed her she had three calls waiting, and she moaned. Why did I ever start this? The figures being bandied about were large enough that it looked like no one was going to file a complaint with the DMS or local police. Even the companies who were only victims had seen the wisdom of multiplying their research funds by draining the coffers of the opposition. Now they were just arguing about the compensation equations. The newer, the more valuable, the more unique, the creative 'breakthroughs' and so forth. Another tenth should see it done. And thirty percent of the payout pool to the lawyers of course. She was making out like a bandit. "If I weren't a lawyer, I'd probably feel guilty about this." She murmured, picking up the first call.
She snatched a moment between calls to flag down Elissy. "Take this up to Aunt Danca and bring my tickets back." She glanced at Elissy's comp as she handed over the chit, and a phrase about flaring frills leapt out at her. "That can't actually be work."
"I'm on break. I'm writing a book. In fact it's my fourth." She stuck her snout up in the air. "Not that I read that trash for anything but examples of what each publisher prefers. They're dead easy to write."
Xaero blinked slowly. "Have you actually published any of them?"
Elissy hunched again. "No. It takes time to break in, you know." She dug a nervous foot into the ground. "Actually the first one was pretty poor. I learned a lot writing it, though," she finished defiantly.
"I . . . " Xaero cleared her throat. "I happen to know a publisher, if you'd like me to introduce you, he'll be at the Charity Ball."
Elissy leaped to her feet, spines erect. "I will go home at lunch and get you the two good finished manuscripts. If you can get them to him, we can talk about them at the Ball."
"First fetch my tickets from Danca, else he won't be at the Ball."
Trev's going to kill me.
***
"There you go, Oh Mighty Publisher." Xaero thumped the two heavy boxes down on Trev's shiny new desk and looked around. With expensive rugs on the floor, pictures on the wall and furniture it looked much better. Needs some plants, maybe I should start some seeds . . .
Trev frowned at the boxes and looked at her questioningly.
"Manuscripts. The very first manuscripts to be submitted to your new publishing empire." She grinned as he lifted the flap of the top box. "Romances written by my sixteen year old cousin."
He jerked back like it had bitten him. "Romances!" he wiped his claws on his kilt. "Written by a child."
"Since she's got a huge crop of zits, I suppose she qualifies as a pseudofem, not a child."
"Romances." He studied her carefully. "Are lawyers allowed to have senses of humor?"
"They tend to be rather dry and obscure to outsiders." She replied. "But you lot have to do something to look like you are in business, so, here you go. Your slush pile starts here. You probably ought to get Silver or Gold to log them in, and keep track of the manuscripts as they come in."
Trev leaned back and eyed the boxes. "They could read them, too. In fact they'd be the perfect target audience. Hmm, a sleazy pulp publisher. This is what I get for associating with a lawyer, isn't it?" He got up and grabbed the boxes. "C'mon, since you've turned into a literary agent, you can show us how it's supposed to be done."
The entry hall had also received rugs, pictures and furniture. It was empty, 'the staff' having gone for the day. Trev poked into several of the rooms immediately off the elaborate front desk, and finally plopped the boxes down in one that was still empty. "We can get shelves in, and a table, give them ID numbers when they come in, and anyone who wants to can sit here with the door open, reading and impressing the clientele, of which we have zero, if and when they ever show."
"Right, and you can add titles to the names outside every door. Junior Editor, Staff Editor, Romance Editor. You, of course will no doubt be Senior Editor in Charge of Acquisitions . . . "
Xaero broke off at a snicker from the balcony of the second floor. Stepping out she waved to the VLL. "And Vee could be Senior Editor of 'Real Male' a periodical devoted to, hmm, the military, ladies frills, hunting, ladies frills, sports, ladies frills, power tools, ladies frills, guns, ladies frills, knives, ladies frills . . . "
&nbs
p; "Oh sand storm!" Trev muttered. "Don't corrupt my bodyguard." He ran a hand up her back and under her scarf to tickle a frill. "Not that that wouldn't sell, mind you, but we are not really here to publish anything."
"Yeah. I'm supposed to be watching his back, not thinking about what size of explosion to put on next tenth's cover." Vee nodded, absolutely straight faced. "But a few picture layouts and articles spread out on my desk would be good props."
Trev thumped his head against the doorframe. "The charity ball is bad enough, but cheesy romances and male magazines? I don't believe this is happening to me."
"Hmm, can you get away for a day, now and then?" She asked. "I've got a place on the surface you might like to see, in case you ever need a hideout or something."
"Bad Guys have hideouts. Good Guys have police stations." He tapped his claws a bit. "On the surface?"
"My grandfather built it, it's over an old Dry Scale cave system."
"I could go before the ball. After, I'll need to be around in case someone takes the bait."
"In three days? Unless you're a slave driver and don't take whole days off? The Tempe train leaves the Main Station at sixty. You get off at the fourth stop, Red North Farms, and walk about six thousand strides from there. And climb up to the surface. Bring a change of clothes or two, outdoor wear. Mask and oxy. I'll bring the food."
"I hate the surface," Vee grumbled.
"In that case," she told him. "I shan't feel a bit guilty about making you sleep in the caves underneath."
"Thank you." He sounded sincere.
"That's probably after we spend all day running around on the surface, if I know this Bad Little Fem." Trev put in.
"Oh, bring your cameras, I know where a herfit has denned up. There may be chicks, which are totally adorable."
"Herfits are extinct." Trev said. "The last one died in the Imperial zoo two decades ago."