“So what you're saying is that the Shark can't sell it to an insurance company.”
“Right.”
“And he can't dump it on the Twins, because the Canphor system is off-limits to human ships, even though they're sitting out the current war.”
She grinned. “You got it.”
“So whether he likes it or not, he's got to palm the crystals off on a fence—and the biggest fence in this sector just happens to be David Copperfield.”
“They tell me you hit it off with him,” said Val.
“Well, he let me live, anyway,” said Cole. “All right, so sooner or later the Shark is going to try to sell the crystals to a fence, and the likelihood is that he'll choose Copperfield. Biggest fence, most money, best contacts for unloading it in the Canphor system.” He paused, lost in thought for a moment. “There's no sense staking the place out. It could be months before he shows up, maybe even longer if he's being chased by Muscatel's three ships—or if he's chasing them. But that doesn't mean we can't make a private arrangement with Copperfield to let us know when the Shark contacts him and when he expects the crystals to be delivered.”
“You'd better do it in person,” interjected Sharon. “A fence operating just outside the Republic has got to be very careful. He's got to know that the offer's legit, that the cops aren't standing ten feet beyond holo range with some burners aimed at you.”
“I agree,” said Cole. “Val, have you ever met David Copperfield?”
“Twice.”
He fell silent, chin on fist, eyes half-closed.
“What's the problem?” asked Val at last.
“I'm trying to decide whether to bring you with me,” said Cole. “I don't know if seeing two pirates he knows will reassure him or set off alarms in his head. He likes me, or at least he seems to, and he's had dealings with you; that's on one side. But when the hell did two pirates ever team up and ask a fence to screw another pirate?”
“Probably more often than you'd guess,” said Val.
“I agree,” said Sharon. “There are business mergers all the time. This is just another business.”
“That's the problem. It's not just another business. This is the kind of business that when you run in the red, the red isn't ink. If he helps us, he knows we'll have something we can hold over him forever.”
“But he also knows we almost never deal with him,” said Val. “He might not see us again for five or ten years.”
“We almost never deal with him at five percent,” said Cole. “But what if we say: You pay us forty percent or we tell every crew member of the Pegasus who informed on them? Or we tell every pirate on the Frontier that David Copperfield sold out one of his clients because another client paid him to.”
“You've been to Riverwind,” said Val. “You've seen his protection. No one can get to him.”
“Bullshit. All I have to do is say I'm Steerforth and I can walk right into his office. Who's to say one of the Shark's men won't announce himself as Pickwick?”
“You can do this either-or shit all day,” said Sharon. “I say you take the Valkyrie. If nothing else, she can protect your back better than anyone else.”
“All right,” agreed Cole. “Maybe I'll take Morales, too. If we have to leave in a hurry, he knows the routes to the spaceport better than anyone else.” He paused, then shook his head. “No, bad idea.”
“Why, if he knows his way around Riverwind?”
“If Val can't come into Copperfield's study with me, I'm not going to worry about her; she can take care of herself. But if she can come to the study, that means Morales will be alone. He's just a kid, and despite what he did to Chadwick in a confused firefight in close quarters, I don't think he can take care of himself under those circumstances. We'll find our way to and from Copperfield's house without him.”
“You're too soft, Cole,” said Val. “Everyone's expendable.”
“Under certain rare and rigidly defined conditions,” agreed Cole, “but not every minute of every day. We can accomplish our mission without endangering him, and that means we should accomplish it without endangering him.”
“You're the Captain,” she said. “Just get me back my ship.”
She cut the connection, and her image disappeared.
“You know,” said Sharon, “we're going to try to track the Pegasus, and we're going to quiz Moyer and Nichols and Bujandi until they're dizzy, and we're going to try to find Muscatel's ships, but your redheaded friend just came up with the best idea anyone's had for locating the Shark.”
“I told you she was going to prove useful,” said Cole.
“Of course, that presupposes that we need to find the Pegasus,” added Sharon. “If it weren't for her, we wouldn't have to.”
“If it weren't for her, I'd still be going into the Republic trying to sell the tiara and the other jewels,” said Cole. “She's giving us a postgraduate course in piracy.”
“Then why are you trying to help her get her ship back? It's in our best interest not to find it for a few years.”
“Because she's not stupid, Sharon. She'll know if we're trying to draw it out, and the day that happens she's gone—possibly leaving a dead Captain behind her.”
“What the hell,” said Sharon. “Since she's either going to kill you or get you killed, maybe you don't have to be lonely tonight after all.”
Cole and Val cleared Customs on Riverwind with a minimum of red tape, and were soon making their way to David Copperfield's mansion.
“When we get there, let me introduce you,” said Cole as they sped above a local thoroughfare.
“Screw the niceties,” said Val. “We're going to make him a proposition, and he's going to say yes or no.”
“He's more likely to say yes if you let me do the talking,” said Cole. He looked over at her. “I don't suppose you'd be willing to stop long enough to buy a period costume, assuming we can find one?”
She growled an obscenity.
“I didn't think so. Besides, they probably don't make nineteenth-century A.D. dresses for redheaded giants.” He paused. “Do you at least know how to curtsy?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” she demanded. “We're two pirates on our way to see a fence!”
“You're not much at adapting to situations, are you?” said Cole.
“I make situations adapt to me.”
“That's probably why we're trying to get your ship back,” he said wryly.
They rode in silence for the last mile.
“We're here,” she announced.
“I meant what I said,” Cole told her. “You let me introduce you, and let me do the talking. I want you to only answer direct questions.” She seemed about to explode with anger, and he held up a hand.
“We're not doing this for my ship. If you won't do it my way, you can go in there alone and good luck to you.”
She glared at him for a moment longer. “All right,” she said at last. “We'll play it your way.”
They walked up to the front door. It opened, and Mr. Jones let them in.
“Welcome back, Mr. Smith,” he said. “Will you and Mrs. Smith please follow me?”
Val looked annoyed, but said nothing, and she and Cole fell into step behind Mr. Jones, who led them to Copperfield's study. The door allowed them to pass through, then snapped shut.
“My dear Steerforth!” said the alien that called itself David Copperfield. “How delightful to see you again!” He turned to Val. “And this enchanting creature is…?”
“Olivia Twist,” said Cole, as Val looked confused.
“What a perfect name!” enthused Copperfield. Suddenly he bowed low. “My house is your house, dear Miss Twist.”
“Thank you,” mumbled Val, frowning.
“And how may I help you today, Steerforth?” asked Copperfield. “Have you decided to part with your diamonds after all?”
“They're long gone,” replied Cole.
“The jewelry, then?”
“Otherwise disposed of.”
<
br /> “Then you've made a new haul,” said Copperfield.
“Actually, we're not here to sell you anything,” replied Cole.
“Oh?” Copperfield suddenly looked suspicious. “I hope you are not here to steal from me, because if you are, you should know that four weapons are trained on you at this very second.”
“Rob a friend I went to school with?” said Cole as Val looked at him as if he was crazy. “Unthinkable.”
“I knew you were a kindred spirit!” said Copperfield. “May I ask why you are here?”
“As I said, I'm not here to sell you anything, but rather to buy something from you.”
“Everything I have is for sale, except for the clothes on my back,” answered Copperfield. “And if you made the right offer for them…”
“The only thing we want to buy is information.”
“Ah!” said Copperfield with a smile. “The most valuable commodity of all, and hence the most expensive.”
“We don't think you possess the information we need yet, but rather that you will be obtaining it in the relatively near future.”
“This sounds intriguing.”
“Poor Olivia's carriage was stolen by highwaymen,” said Cole.
“Had this carriage a name?”
“The Pegasus,” said Val.
“A well-known carriage indeed,” said Copperfield. “And of course my sources have already informed me of the devastation it caused on Cyrano.” He smiled at Val. “You are known by many false names, my dear Olivia, and each of them is said to be more than formidable. How is it that you managed to lose your carriage?”
“I got stinking—”
“She was indisposed,” said Cole, speaking over her.
“A sweet young innocent like her?” said Copperfield.
“You left out ‘trusting,' and that's what cost her the carriage.”
“And you think they'll be contacting me to sell it for them?” asked Copperfield.
“No, but they've got some things they won't be able to unload anywhere else,” said Cole.
“Such as?”
“Meladotian crystals,” said Val.
Copperfield's eyes widened. “Meladotian crystals?” he repeated.
“Right,” said Cole.
“Beloved Steerforth, I am going to ask you a question,” said Copperfield. “We are like brothers, you and I. Closer. In all the Inner Frontier, only you are truly family.”
“Thank you, David,” replied Cole. “I feel exactly the same way.”
“But family is one thing, and business is quite another,” continued Copperfield. “Why should I help you when your avowed enemy is coming to me with Meladotian crystals?”
“He's going to want five percent for the crystals, possibly more,” said Cole. “Help Olivia get her carriage back and we'll sell them to you for three percent of market.”
“Hey!” said Val.
“Be quiet, Miss Twist,” said Cole sharply. “Our friend is considering his options.”
“Three percent, you say?” asked Copperfield.
“That's right.”
“And exactly what do I have to do in exchange for this beneficence?”
“I'm going to give you a scramble code before I leave,” said Cole. “The moment you know that they're coming here, I want you to send me a subspace message to that effect, and use the code to hide the contents. It's the latest military technology, and I doubt that the Pegasus will be able to do a thing with it.”
“They'll know it came from here.”
“Send Mr. Jones to the spaceport and have him send it from there,” suggested Cole. “It'll just be one more signal among hundreds.”
“You were always the brightest boy in school, Steerforth,” said Copperfield.
“We'll be waiting for them when they arrive,” continued Cole. “They'll be out of the pirating business long before they can reach your house.”
“Three percent?” repeated Copperfield.
“Three percent.”
“Then it only remains for you to tell me who will be contacting me, so that I will know to alert you.”
“He calls himself the Hammerhead Shark.”
Copperfield's eyes widened again. “The Hammerhead Shark?”
“That's right.”
“I'm sorry, but all deals are off! I had no idea who you were after!” He turned to Val. “And you, Miss Twist, should consider yourself fortunate in the extreme that you are still alive.”
“All right,” said Cole. “Two percent.”
“My dear Steerforth, you could offer them to me for free and it would make no difference. I value my life too much to do anything to offend the Hammerhead Shark.”
“He'll never make it this far,” said Cole. “I told you: We'll meet him right at the spaceport.”
“Because we went to school together, and thus have a bond between us, I will forget you ever came here or mentioned the Hammerhead Shark. Now I must ask you to go.”
“That's your final word?”
“No creation of the immortal Charles ever speaks a final word,” replied Copperfield. “But that is my decision.”
Cole shrugged. “If you change your mind…”
“I won't.”
Cole turned to Val. “Okay, let's go.”
They walked to the door of the study, where Mr. Jones was awaiting them. “Follow me, please,” he said, turning and heading toward the front door.
“He sounds like he believes the pair of you stepped out of the pages of the same book,” said Val. “All this talk about a bond between you.”
“Maybe he does,” answered Cole. “As you can see from your surroundings, he's caught up in the fantasy.”
They passed an open room with three of Copperfield's henchmen sitting around a table, playing cards. Jones kept walking, but Val instantly pivoted, pulling her burner and aiming it in a single motion.
“Hit the floor!” she yelled, and Cole instantly dropped to the carpet as two of the cardplayers ducked and a third went for his screecher. He was too slow, and he fell to the floor, a bubbling black hole between his eyes.
Cole jumped to his feet, pulled his pulse gun, and trained it on Mr. Jones, while Val kept hers aimed at the two remaining cardplayers.
“What the hell was that all about?” Cole demanded.
“Get the fence out here,” she said, never moving.
“David!” shouted Cole. “Come out. It's safe now.”
“How do I know?” yelled Copperfield through the heavy wooden door of his study.
“Would Steerforth kill David Copperfield?” said Cole. “Just get out here!”
“In a moment.” There was a brief silence. “There are now four weapons trained on you. If you make any sudden movements, if you threaten me in any way, you won't live to reach the front door. You are only alive now because of our shared interest in the immortal Charles.”
The door opened and David Copperfield emerged, a weapon of alien design in each hand.
“What has gone on here?” he demanded.
“The man I killed,” said Val. “How long has he worked for you?”
Copperfield shrugged. “A week, maybe two. Why?”
“His name is Barak Numika, and he's a crew member of the Pegasus. If you don't believe me, tear off his sleeve and check the tattoo on his left arm: it's a waterfall in perpetual motion. Then contact your local police station, have them run a search on the identifying marks of a wanted murderer called Barak Numika and check his last known whereabouts. They'll tell you he was serving aboard a pirate ship called the Pegasus.” Val paused. “You've had a spy in your employ, Mr. Copperfield.”
“Why?” asked Copperfield. “How could the Hammerhead Shark know you'd come here to offer this accommodation?”
“He couldn't know. He has no idea that I've joined forces with…Steerforth.”
“And if he wasn't put here to watch out for us,” added Cole quickly, “that means he was put here to look for weaknesses in your defenses. The Sha
rk's coming here, all right, but not to offer you Meladotian crystals. He's coming to relieve you of everything you've got.”
Copperfield seemed lost in thought for almost a full minute. Finally he spoke.
“Put your weapons away.” He turned to his own men, and raised his voice for the benefit of his four unseen gunmen. “These two are our friends and allies. They are not to be harmed, now or in the future.” He pointed to Numika. “Get that spy out of here and dispose of him.” Then to Val. “You put yourself at risk to save my operation and probably my life. I'll need that scramble code, and if you can stop the Shark, I will offer you five percent of market for the crystals.”
Cole nodded. “It's a deal.”
“Perhaps I can sweeten it,” continued Copperfield.
“Oh?”
“There is one thing I covet above all else,” he said. “On Picacio IV, out in the Albion Cluster, there is a man named Euphrates Djinn, who is in the same business as I am. I have no idea if that is his real name. I suspect it is not, but it's the name he's gone by for the past fifteen years.”
“What about him?”
“He possesses a signed first edition of A Tale of Two Cities.” A look of rage spread across the alien's face. “He never reads it! He never displays it! And he refuses to sell it! He has no interest in it and no use for it. He keeps it just to drive me crazy!” He began hyperventilating little blue puffs of vapor. “Get it for me, and I will pay you not three percent, not five percent, not thirty percent, but one-half of market value for anything you bring me for two years after that book is in my hands.”
“We'll think about it,” said Cole.
“We'll do more than think about it,” said Val. “We'll do it.” Cole looked at her questioningly. “I know Euphrates Djinn. It'll be a pleasure to rob him. Hell, I just might cut the bastard open from stem to stern, too.”
“You heard the delicate, refined Miss Twist,” said Cole. “You've got another deal.”
“I don't like it,” said Sharon Blacksmith.
“Neither do I,” added Forrice.
“The Captain may occasionally have to leave the ship in the course of action—maybe twice a decade,” continued Sharon. “But not to go planetside and steal a goddamned book!”
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