“You don't have to meet with Toma if you don't want to,” Angie said when Pua stopped at the base of the front steps.
Pua rubbed her left arm. “Are you giving me a choice?” she asked. “Or telling me you don't want me there?”
Angie took a slow breath. Why was it so hard to say the right thing to this youngster? “I'm telling you to do whatever you want,” she said, and saw that was the wrong thing, too.
Pua muttered something, then puffed a fine shimmer of dust from her arm. She stepped past Angie. “I want to go to bed.” She scuffed her bare feet across the door mat and disappeared inside. By the time Angie had removed her boots and carefully stepped over the still-wriggling mat, Pua's bedroom door had slammed.
Fatu stood at the library door. He nodded Angie a greeting, then glanced after Pua.
“She's okay,” Angie said. “Just mad at something I said.”
One thick eyebrow rose. “What'd you say?”
“Damned if I know,” Angie replied. “Thanks for handling this end of things, Fatu. Sorry if we gave you a scare.”
“Warden,” he replied. “That little fe'e gives me a scare every time she turns around. I'm pretty much used to it.” He nodded over his shoulder. “You want me to stay?”
Angie glanced beyond him to where Toma was stretched out in a wicker chair, holding a glass of wine in one long-fingered hand.
“I'll take it from here,” she replied. She stifled a yawn.
Fatu offered only the slightest of hesitations before nodding and leaving the house. With Pua upstairs, she doubted he would go far. It was clear he was intensely protective of the girl. She wondered what the two of them had been up to before the alarms had gone off.
Inside the library, the comm screen flickered with incoming messages. Angie ignored them and glanced around the spacious room. She felt as startled now as she had the evening before as her look took in the three shelves of paper books that lined one inside wall. Old-style books were a rare enough sight on Earth; the presence of so many here seemed all but impossible.
Like in the foyer, the walls were hung with Island-style artifacts, most of which, Angie suspected, had never been anywhere near Earth. Someone had certainly put a lot of work into making this place feel as if it had a human past.
She dropped into a chair facing Toma and eyed the glass in his hand.
He lifted it, not quite in toast.
“Candleberry wine,” he said, turning the glass to catch the light. “The finest on Lesaat. Making it was one of Zed Pukui's specialities.” Early morning sunlight, filtering in through the louvered shades, turned the clear liquid scarlet.
Angie leaned back. “Do you always make yourself at home like this?” She lifted her feet to the low table between them.
He glanced pointedly at her own relaxed posture. His look was not quite as disapproving as Pua's when Angie told her to park the flitter on the lawn, but close. “It's accepted practice for me to serve myself at Pukui,” he said. “I've been a guest in this house many times.”
“Before or after the senior Pukuis’ deaths?”
Toma's eyes narrowed. He rested the glass on the arm of his chair. “Zed and Lehua were my friends. We were family.”
“Ah yes, Pua's favorite uncle,” she said. According to the farm records, he actually was Pua's uncle. He had married Zed's sister seven years before, and buried her two years later. The woman had died in childbirth, of all things, along with what would have been twin sons.
Toma remained expressionless.
“Pua says you killed her parents.”
“I did not.” He took a sip of wine.
“She doesn't strike me as someone who would accuse a family friend, an uncle, of murder, without a pretty solid reason,” Angie said.
“I was here when they ate the boiled sea cucumber that was supposed to have killed them, but I refused to eat any of it myself,” he said. “I was also here the following morning when they all got sick. She thinks I did something to cause it.”
Coincidences? Angie mused.
“Supposed to have?” she asked.
“Pua would never have deliberately given her parents infected loli,” he said. “You can't tell if it's carrying the lethal bacteria after it's cooked, not by just looking, but you can while it's still on the reef. Pua knows the reef better than any of us. She just wouldn't have made a mistake like that.”
“What killed them, then?”
He hesitated and took another sip of wine. “I thought the Company had closed this case.”
I'm reopening it, she told him silently. “Indulge me, Inspector. I'm curious. What do you think killed them if it wasn't the—loli, is it called?”
He nodded. His look became calculating. “The Pukuis were taken off-planet immediately after they were stricken. I was later sent records showing they all carried high levels of the lethal bacteria that causes loli fever, so they must have gotten it somewhere.”
“But not from Pua.”
“No, Warden. Not from Pua. She adored her parents. And they her. Pualeiokekai, they called her—Precious Child of the Sea. They were as close a family as I've ever known. Even if Pua had been planning to hurt me with the loli, she would never have taken the chance of harming her parents at the same time.”
Angie felt as if she were in quicksand. She couldn't find anything in this conversation to hold on to. “Why would she have been trying to hurt you?”
“She wasn't, really,” he said. “She was just trying to shame me. She was angry because I'd been arguing with her father earlier. Serving the loli was her way of paying me back.” He smiled slightly. “It's considered highly insulting to refuse a food offering here on Lesaat. Pua knows I never eat boiled loli—I have an allergic reaction to it that has nothing to do with the loli fever bacteria. She served it so I'd be embarrassed by turning it down in front of Katie and her parents.”
So that's what the business with the rock bread was about, Angie thought. Well, I've been tested with worse.
“Why were the Pukuis taken off-planet? If they were critically ill, why weren't they treated right here?” she asked.
“There is no treatment,” he said. “Loli fever strikes about twelve hours after ingestion of the bacteria. There are no early symptoms. Victims simply collapse, with rarely more than a few seconds, a few minutes at the most, before they lose consciousness. Pua is the only one to have ever survived.”
Angie was surprised by the softness that came into Toma's tone. He actually seemed to care for the girl.
“I was in the control shed with a group of visiting Earthers when I heard Katie scream,” he said. He sat unmoving, his wineglass still in his hand. “By the time I got to the house, Zed was sprawled unconscious on the stairs. A doctor from the Earth team was trying to revive him. I found Katie upstairs, huddled over Lehua's body.
“Pua was already in a state of collapse when she burst in. Dr. Waight came in right behind her and held her back. Pua remained conscious just long enough to hear me say it was loli fever—and to accuse me of trying to murder them.”
“I still don't understand why they were taken to Earth,” Angie said. Dr. Waight? she thought.
“The Company has been trying to get its hands on Pua ever since they discovered her existence a year ago,” he said. “Lehua and Zed refused to allow the Company doctors near her or to release any information about her physical makeup. Waight couldn't take Pua alone, though—that would have raised too many questions. So, she claimed it was a humanitarian gesture and took them all.”
He drained his glass, then leaned forward to refill it from a decanter on the table between them. He filled a second glass and offered it to Angie. She watched him for a moment, then sighed and accepted it. He smiled.
The wine was rich, fruity. Like ... She met his look over the rim of the glass. “I'm surprised Katie hasn't brought you something to eat by now,” she said. “What with you being such a good friend of the family and all.” She could think of no Earthly comparison
for the wine.
“Frankly, so am I. She's usually in here with a tray the minute I arrive, but she's nowhere around tonight.” He laughed softly. “She's probably out in the jungle somewhere, watching the spiderwebs glow.” He sat back.
“What were you and Mr. Pukui arguing about?”
The smile disappeared. “The TC enzyme. The Company wanted the data on it, and Zed refused to give it to them. I had come out to try to change his mind before bringing the World Life heavyweights to meet with him the next day.” He drank, a long, deep gulp. He stared at the wine shimmering scarlet through the clear glass.
“Zed didn't want to sell the TC rights to anyone. He said that when the time came, he'd give the process to anyone with a farm to grow the proper algae base, and he'd sell the finished product to anyone who could demonstrate need. In the meantime, he was retaining all rights for himself and his family.”
“Why?” Angie asked. “The farm records show he'd willingly sold the production rights to other advances in algae production and quality.”
“The Pukuis maintained a very traditional attitude about communal sharing of natural resources,” he said. “They didn't like the idea of World Life controlling the entire production and distribution of so valuable a commodity. They were afraid it would be used as a political tool instead of the life-giving gift it was meant to be.”
He's either exceptionally straightforward or an extraordinary liar, Angie thought. He was alluding to the same serious Company illegalities that Pua had spoken of. Spit, but she was tired. She took another sip of wine, wishing its sweet freshness could wash away the sour taste at the back of her mouth.
Toma watched her silently. He was sitting well back in his seat, legs spread, arms relaxed except for where he held the glass. He was an arrogant bastard, confident of his power and position, and—she had to admit it—attractive in his open challenge to her interrogation. Too bad he was a Company man. She wasn't about to take that chance again.
“If you believe there might be some irregularities in the Pukuis’ deaths,” she said, dragging her mind back to the subject at hand, “why haven't you done anything about it? Surely, investigating the deaths of Lesaat's two most prominent scientists fits somewhere within your duties as planetary supervisor—not to mention the fact that you claim them as friends. I should think the Company itself would have insisted on such an investigation.”
“The Company declared the deaths accidental and, because of the missing TC records, put an absolute lid of secrecy over the entire affair,” he said.
She watched him again, wondering how much of what she was reading from his body language and verbal tone was true. She held no faith at all in his words. It was time to change tactics. She finished her wine and pulled her feet off the table.
“Tell me something, Inspector,” she said, yawning. “Were you, by any chance, having a little illicit sex on the side with Mrs. Pukui?”
He sat up so abruptly that his drink spilled into his lap. “That's out of line, Warden!”
“Is that your answer?”
He recovered quickly. She had caught him off-guard, but he was good at this. “I loved Lehua Pukui,” he said evenly, firmly—truthfully, Angie decided. “I was not in love with her. Is that a clear enough answer?”
She nodded.
He stood and brushed the wine from his shorts and his bare thighs. He pulled one of the window shades aside. It was a move meant to distract. She would have done it herself had she been in his place. The sun had risen high enough so that the broad lanai roof prevented it from shining directly into the room, but its diffused light tinged the humid air gold.
“How did you and Zena know so fast what was happening out at number twelve?” she asked, obliging him by changing the subject.
“We set planned methane blows a dozen times a month around here, Warden,” he said. “I'd recognize the signs in my sleep.”
He turned. “From the description Pua relayed, and the timing of the explosions, I'd say that release was set up by a total amateur. No experienced squid would have set it up so sloppily. A proper methane kill carries most of the algae inward, so it stays inside the net.”
“Is that your way of saying you didn't do it?” she asked.
Suddenly, he laughed. “You sound just like my one-on-one instructor at Cody, Warden. Where did you get your interrogation training?”
That came as a complete surprise. “You spent time at a troubleshooter's school?”
“Took the full course,” he said. “Four years in Wyoming, another in Denver, then three in the field before I succumbed to World Life's offer of a permanent post here on Lesaat. I've taken refreshers at Denver twice.”
Spit on the bloody lines, she thought. No wonder I'm having such a hard time reading him. He probably knows more about one-on-one interrogation than I do. Denver was the training site for the Company's top investigators. She would have to debrief this encounter very, very carefully. She was also going to have to dig a lot deeper into Dr. Toma Haili's records. A troubleshooter, for god's sake!
Why the hell hadn't the Company used him to do their damned truth-drugging? she wondered. Then she remembered that as planetary super, Toma was in the direct employ of World Life. He could no longer claim fully sanctioned U.N. privileges.
“They must have made you a generous offer,” she said. “I don't know of many shooters who've voluntarily gone off planet.”
“They promised me land, Warden, just like they did you. Although I must say, it's quite a coup to have negotiated title to Earth property.”
Angie conceded him a smile. His answer let her know he had been able to bypass the full privacy code on her contract.
“You didn't do too shabbily yourself,” she said. “Talking the Company out of a perpetual-rights lease just as if you'd been an original settler.”
He laughed. “Touché, Warden. That point goes to you. It's been a while since I played one-on-one with another troubleshooter. I'm out of practice.”
And it hasn't slowed you down a bit, she thought. It was time to end this thing. The wine had relaxed her almost to the point of enjoying herself. She stood and stretched. “I'm sorry to break this up, Inspector, but it feels like at least a month has passed since I got off that shuttle yesterday.”
He stepped away from the window and crossed to her side—close to her side. He was a shooter, all right. She could smell it on him. A flood of adrenaline followed by a couple of hours of tight emotional control had done the same thing to his libido as it had to hers. He would be offering her the usual shooter's solution next.
“Is there anything else I can do for you this morning, Warden?” he asked.
She laughed. “An honest offer from a Company man. Wonders never cease. It's a shame to pass it up, Inspector, but unfortunately right now I'm more in need of sleep.” And time to figure out just who, and what, the hell you are.
He shrugged good-naturedly and stepped back. She waved him ahead of her from the room. “Did you get my requisition list into the pipeline?”
“There'll be a full net crew here before noon to help with twelve's disposal,” he said. “The available materials will be here shortly after, and the rest has been ordered from Earth.”
“What about that security squad? I want them out of here today. You should know shooters don't use Company police, not in this kind of situation.”
He surprised her by agreeing without a protest. “They'll be shipped out on the vessels that bring the work crews. You do understand the need for immediate action here at Pukui, don't you? The storms...”
“I understand about the storms,” she said. It was about the only thing she did understand.
He nodded and stepped outside onto the lanai. “By the way, how does a case of Maldarian caramels fit into your plans to save Pukui?” he asked.
Angie had been wondering when he would get around to asking about that. The caramels were the only way she had been able to think of to send a private message back to Earth. “T
hey're one of my vices,” she said. “I frequently take them into the field with me, but this time I didn't have time to pick up my order before I left Earth. I find chocolate-covered caramels rival even early morning sex for helping me think straight.”
He lifted a brow. “An expensive alternative, considering the shipping costs to Lesaat.”
She laughed. “When I'm ready for the alternative, I'll let you know, Inspector. Anyway, I'm sure you noticed that I credited the order to my personal account, although technically it is a legitimate field expense.”
He offered her a skeptical look before scuffing across the wriggling door mat.
“Don't take the flitter,” she said as he slipped into a pair of plastic thongs.
“What?”
“The flitter. Don't take it.”
“Now look, Warden, this has been fun, but I've got to get back to Landing. That happens to be my personal—”
“There are only two things on this farm that I trust right now,” Angie said. “One is the air-security system I rigged myself last night. The other is your flitter. You can return to Landing with the first supply run, or order yourself some other transportation. You're welcome to take one of Pukui's flits if you want, but I don't recommend it. They look to be in serious need of some good maintenance. Repair parts and personnel are on the req list.”
“You—”
“The dock comm is open for your use. Just stay out of Zena's way.” She flipped the latch on the door. “It has been fun, Inspector. Let's do it again sometime.”
She grinned as she turned back toward the stairs, thinking how much Pua would have enjoyed hearing that Company man's curse.
Chapter 10
It was past midday when Angie woke. She lay still for a moment, listening to the chatter of fronded trees and distant surf. She remembered waking to the sound of rain sometime during the morning, then being lulled back to sleep by its steady drumming on the lanai roof just outside her window. She felt blessedly rested.
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