Babylon 5 02 - Accusations (Tilton, Lois)

by Accusations (Tilton, Lois)

  "And just what kind of questions does the good commander have for Mr. Pal, anyway?"

  "The subject of our investigation is confidential," Khatib sneered.

  Ivanova wished Captain Sheridan were there. Only Sheridan outranked Wallace, and even so she wasn't sure he had the authority to order him to release his reluctant witness. She walked over to speak to Torres again. "I'm going to try something. But first I need to know, has the Kobold's, clearance for departure actually been canceled?" It rankled to have to go through the ensign for the information that should have been hers with a single query through her link, but Ivanova was determined to play this by the book as long as Khatib was watching her.

  "I'll check, Commander," Torres replied, and opened her link. "No, they're still set for departure, as far as C&C is concerned."

  Ivanova nodded. Good. She knew C&C would never revoke the Kobold's clearance on Wallace's orders. It would take someone on the command staff, and the command staff was thin on the ground right at the moment.

  She went back to consult with LeDuc." I have a tactic to propose," she told him. "Now, as you know, your pilot Mr. Pal confided in me about some very sensitive matters. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

  Gravely, the copilot acknowledged that he did.

  She went on, "Because of what he told me, and because of other incidents that have happened here on Babylon 5, I'm concerned about leaving Mr. Pal in the hands of these particular Earthforce officers. Concerned about his safety."

  "I know! That's why we're protesting this!"

  "Yes," Ivanova agreed, "but, because of other things Mr. Pal told me, I think he wouldn't object, himself, to having a thorough search made of the cargo. Would he?" LeDuc's eyes widened in comprehension as she went on, "Of course, it would be illegal for anyone else to break open sealed shipping crates, but it's different in the case of a search conducted by the proper authorities, right? In that case, the broken seals would be accounted for."

  "I see what you mean," LeDuc said slowly.

  "So it's probable that if Mr. Pal were here, he wouldn't actually object to this search."

  "Yeah, I see what you mean."

  "Now, this is the hard part," Ivanova went on. "If I'm right, then the investigators who are holding Mr. Pal want to examine this cargo very badly. I don't know why, exactly, but I know they're looking for something and they think it might be on this ship. It's a risk, but I'm willing to bet that they want to search the ship even more than they want to keep Mr. Pal for more questioning. The question isare you willing to take that risk?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that I'd like to offer Lieutenant Khatib over there a deal. If he produces your pilot, free and unharmed, you'll let him and a security detail onto the ship to search it. Uh, I'm assuming you don't have anything to hide?"

  "No! We've got nothing to hide. This is a straight-up transport ship, we don't do smuggling deals on the side."

  "Good, then."

  "But what if he doesn't go for it?"

  Ivanova grimaced. "That's the hard part. You take off."

  "Without the pilot? No! We're not running out on Pal!"

  "Listen," Ivanova urged him. "It's a bluff. I think Khatib will give in. If I'm right, they want something on this ship more than they want Pal. But you've got to convince them you mean it. You've got to be ready to go through with it. No backing down, not even at the last minute, not even at the jump gate. You go through."

  "And what happens if you're wrong, Commander? What happens then? To Mr. Pal?"

  Ivanova took a breath. "All right. Good question. In the first place, Captain Sheridan isn't available now, but when he knows what's going on, I'm sure he'll take steps to make sure Mr. Pal is safe. I guarantee, myself, to make every effort to see that he is."

  "Can you guarantee it'll work?"

  She shook her head. "No. But this is the alternative: to keep the standoff going, to wait until Captain Sheridan is finished mediating a dispute between a couple of alien races, however long that takes, to wait while he tries to negotiate with Commander Wallace, the officer who's holding Mr. Pal. It's a matter of time, don't you see? If we take the risk, we stand a chance of getting Pal out of there now. Not tomorrow, or the day after that."

  "I see what you mean," LeDuc said again. "I got to talk to my crew."

  He stepped back to the hatch, and there was a brief huddled discussion. Then LeDuc nodded to Ivanova. "Go for it, Commander. I'll go heat up the engines."

  "Right." Back to Khatib. "This is the deal, Lieutenant."

  "My orders don't include deals," Khatib said loftily.

  "The deal isyou get in to inspect the ship, search the cargo, whatever you have in mind. As soon as the pilot is released."

  Khatib scowled. "I don't have the authority to agree to that."

  "Then why don't you get on the link to your boss and ask for the authority, Lieutenant? Because this is the rest of the deal. If you don't produce Mr. Pal, unharmed, in twenty minutes, you can forget about searching the cargo because the Kobold will be departing Babylon 5, on schedule."

  "You can't do that!"

  "I'm not doing anything, Lieutenant, I'm just a speaker for the Kobold 's crew. This is their offer."

  "I'll revoke their clearance to depart!"

  "No, you won't. You don't have the authority, Lieutenant Khatib. Commander Wallace doesn't have the authority. And I'll just bet that by the time you find somebody who does have the authority, the Kobold will already be through the jump gate and gone. So what's it going to be, Lieutenant? Do we negotiate, or do you stand here until that ship takes off?"

  "You wouldn't dare."

  Ivanova raised her eyebrows. "Me? I told you, Lieutenant, I'm just an intermediary here. Lieutenant, I'm not involved. This is the Kobold crew's decision."

  "They wouldn't dare. We have their pilot."

  Ivanova's brows lowered. "That wouldn't be a threat, would it, Lieutenant Khatib? You wouldn't be planning to harm Mr. Pal?"

  Glaring at her, Khatib stepped back and toggled on his link. She could hear him briefly describing the situation to Wallace, and at one point he raised his voice a little: "I can't! I've tried, but C&C won't take my orders! All right, you try it." Interested, she tried to hear more, but Khatib had lowered his voice again and all she could catch were snatches: "Twenty minutes ... no, she won't take my orders either ... I can't! . . . dozen people watching ..."

  "Commander Wallace is considering the matter," he finally snarled to Ivanova.

  Her lips quirked in a half-grin, knowing that Commander Wallace was probably on the comm right now, trying to browbeat C&C into revoking the Kobold' s clearance. But she knew Torres had briefed the duty staff on the situation, and she didn't think they'd give in. They weren't eager to take Commander Wallace's orders. He hadn't endeared himself to Babylon 5 personnel during his stay on the station.

  Ivanova waited. Torres waited. The security cordon, still alert for trouble, waited. The transport's crew continued their preparations for departure.

  Several minutes later there was another heated exchange between Khatib and Wallace over the link. Khatib shut it off and glared again at Ivanova. "You say they agree to allow the search?"

  "After Mr. Pal is safely onboard the ship." She added, "And they want Ensign Torres, as security officer in charge, to be present, to make sure there are no irregularities. And representatives of the crew, since they're legally responsible for the condition of the cargo. And the agent of the company insuring it."

  "Agreed," Khatib snapped. He took a step toward the cargo hatch, but Ivanova held up a hand to stop him. "After Mr. Pal is onboard."

  "The commander is on his way."

  "He'd better hurry," Ivanova remarked casually. "In . . . eleven minutes this bay will have to be cleared for takeoff. I don't think you want to be standing here waiting for him after the blast doors are sealed shut."

  Khatib made an inarticulate sound of rage in the back of his throat. Ivanova grinned smugly
back at him. Enjoying this.

  But a few minutes later they could see Wallace approaching, accompanied by a security man and a smaller figure between them whose walk was slightly unsteady. Ivanova stepped up to take him from them and saw that Pal's expression was somewhat glazed, his pupils wider than they should have been. Drugs, she thought. Drugs and a telepath. They weren't leaving anything to chance, were they?

  Wallace recognized her, drew back, made a gesture as if he were about to drag Pal back, but there were clearly too many people watching for him to pull out of the deal now. "Commander," he said coldly, "I didn't know you were involved in this. But I should have realized."

  Ivanova smiled at him politely. "I'm simply here to speak for the Kobold's crew. At their request. They were concerned about Mr. Pal." She grasped the pilot's hand reassuringly and led him toward the crew hatch, where his copilot was waiting.

  "Are you all right?" she whispered urgently.

  "Fine," he said, "but I talked, I told them things. They . . . gave me something."

  "It's all right," she said, hoping it was. "I think he'll be fine once he sleeps it off," she told LeDuc, "but he's in no condition to be on the bridge."

  Wallace and Khatib had been consulting. "Now I suppose there will be no objection to our searching the hold?" Khatib asked.

  "No objection," Ivanova agreed. "Ensign Torres, you'll be an official observer? And the crew representatives?" She had already called Espada, who was on her way down.

  "Our purser, Mr. Kim. And Commander Ivanova."

  "She's not a member of your crew!" Wallace objected.

  "She's still our representative," LeDuc insisted. "And I will be present as well."

  But Wallace didn't seem to care who else was in the hold as long as he got in to search it. Khatib, picking up a bag of equipment, followed him as the ship's purser solemnly unsealed the door of the hold.

  Ivanova's first reaction on stepping into the space was How are they going to check out all this! Hundreds of sealed cargo containers filled the hold. Cargo was usually shipped in containerscrates or canisters or drumsfor ease of loading and unloading, for load stability. And for reasons of security, since most goods sent through space were valuable, most containers were sealed. But Wallace and Khatib seemed to know what they were doing. With their instruments, they scanned the crates, one by one, followed by the attentive purser, Mr. Kim, with his notebook listing each container's contents, owner, port of origin, and other pertinent data. Espada, at his side, compared her own records to his. Ivanova, Torres, and LeDuc trailed after them, as if they fully understood what was going on.

  Wallace stopped, pointed to a particular crate, and said, "This one."

  Kim stepped up and cracked the seal, making a note in his records. As Wallace and Khatib inspected the contents, Ivanova looked over her shoulder at Espada's display. Container # 7794. Contents: morbidium ingots, approx 96% pure; property of AreTech Consolidated Mines; port of origin, Marsport . . .

  She exchanged glances with LeDuc, who held a whispered consultation with Kim. What did an ingot of pure morbidium look like, anyway? she wondered. How could you distinguish it from an ingot of, say, tin or iron?

  Kim made more notes. Wallace and Khatib continued their search, looking dissatisfied. It took quite a while. It took a very long while. The cargo crew eventually had to be summoned with equipment to shift the crates. For each one they opened, Kim the purser made his own inspection, and another note in his records. LeDuc had a consultation with his bridge crew, relaying a query from Babylon 5 C&C. No, he didn't have any idea how long this would take, departure would have to be delayed indefinitely.

  When he was done with the hold, Wallace insisted on searching the rest of the ship, including the bridge and crew quarters. But it was finally done, and Wallace, looking as if he'd just swallowed something bad, retreated from the Kobold, followed by an equally dissatisfied Khatib.

  "Whatever it was, I don't think they found it," Torres remarked, sighing.

  "No," Ivanova agreed thoughtfully. Whatever it was. But she had a good idea. Something that might have been passed on from J. D. Ortega, to her, to the transport pilot. Something Wallace had been terrorizing the station's population trying to find.

  But it was LeDuc who looked the most relieved. "Now we can get out of this place! Not to accuse you of inhospitality, Commander. But I want the first slot for departure off Babylon 5!"

  "I understand. But what about the cargo? Is it genuine?"

  Kim looked up from his notebook. "Morbidium. Every crate they opened contained morbidium. Between ninety-four and ninety-eight percent pure metal. Every ingot I checked."

  "Well," said Ivanova, slightly disappointed. "So much for that theory."

  "Apparently so," Espada agreed. "I still want to thank you, Commander. Your insights have been very helpful."

  "Then you'll continue to investigate?"

  "Oh, yes."

  "Tell Mr. Pal that I'm sorry for all his trouble," Ivanova said to LeDuc.

  "I will. And thank you, Commander Ivanova. You got him out of there."

  But not in time, Ivanova thought to herself as she left the ship with Espada. Whatever Pal knew, everything she'd told himWallace probably knew it all now.

  Occupied with her thoughts, Ivanova heard a familiar voice call her name as she left the Kobold's docking bay. She looked up. There was Captain Sheridan on the deck, in consultation with Ensign Torres.

  She went over to them. "The ensign tells me that this situation is under control now. I'm glad to hear it," Sheridan said. "I understand you were of some assistance in the negotiations."

  "I was just a speaker on behalf of the transport's crew," Ivanova said again. "It wasn't much trouble. Really."

  CHAPTER 21

  "So now we know," Ivanova admitted, setting down her tray on the table in the mess hall. "Damn, I was so sure that Pal had to be right! The insurance fraud scheme and everything! But the morbidium cargoes aren't fake, after all."

  She went on glumly, "And now Wallace has pumped Pal full of drugs and found out about the whole thing."

  "Except that what he found out is wrong," Garibaldi added.

  "Some comfort." Ivanova looked at her breakfast with distaste. "And the captain is still convinced that whoever knocked you on the head was involved with the Free Mars movement?"

  "Yeah." Garibaldi gingerly touched the healing contusion on his forehead. "What do you think"he grinned"does it give me that romantic, wounded look?"

  "It'd help if you lost your appetite and went all pale and thin instead," she replied with a pointed look at the amount on his tray, rapidly being diminished.

  "Forget it, then," Garibaldi said firmly. "I'm probably not the type, anyway."

  Ivanova finished her own meal, looked up to see him assessing what was left, rolled her eyes. He was the incorrigible type, is what he was.

  "Going back out on patrol?" he asked.

  "Right." She sighed. "I know this raider thing was my idea, but if things ever get back to normal around here, you won't hear me complaining about lack of flight time for a while."

  "It's good for you," he remarked. "Keeps your reflexes sharp. People won't sneak up on you, zap you with a shock stick. Especially not while you're off somewhere in space."

  "I'll remember that," she said dryly. And left Garibaldi the tray.

  He pulled it over to him, but once Ivanova had left the mess hall he showed no real interest in the fruit or biscuits she hadn't eaten. In fact, he pushed his own tray away. It was hard, he thought, having to live up to your image all the time, what people expected of you.

  There across the room, at a table by herself, was Talia Winters sitting over a cup of some synthetic coffee-substitute. She looked thin. She ought to eat more, but he didn't know how to approach her to tell her so. Which was really dumb, he told himself, because she was a telepath, she'd know how he felt. Still, he didn't trust himself not to say some stupid thing.

  Besides, he decided, abruptly
getting to his feet, he had work to do. See what kind of a mess had piled up in the security office while he was flat on his back over in Medlab.

  There was, as he'd suspected, a backlog of messages, memos, and reports waiting for him. Garibaldi sighed, sat down in front of the display, and called up the first ones. A few moments later his eyes met a familiar name on a list of persons detained within the last twenty-four hours. "Hey! What's Nick Patinos doing in the lockup?"

  The computer obligingly replied, "Nick Patinos is being held for questioning."

  "On whose orders, dammit?"

  "The detention was ordered by Captain Sheridan."

  He called over to the clerk on duty at the lockup, "Kennealy, what do you know about these arrests?"

  The clerk looked up from his own display. "The captain ordered them. He said he was personally taking over the case while you were in Medlab."

  "What case?" Garibaldi demanded, exasperated. Who did Sheridan think he was, taking over his job? Maybe he'd like it on a permanent basis?

  But to Kennealy it was self-evident. "Your case, Chief. The case of whoever zapped you with that shock stick. Assault on a station officer. The captain was really flamed about it, that's for sure."

  "I see." Garibaldi went back to sit at his console and try to think this through. The thing was, he'd meant what he'd told Sheridan about confidentiality. His sources. It was a basic thing, underlying all his work in security, all throughout his career. If your source couldn't trust you trust you to go to the wall before you'd say a word to implicate him, to break his coverthen you didn't deserve his trust. It was that simple. He'd done a lot of things he wasn't proud of, but that wasn't one of them. He'd never given up the name of a contact.

  And Nickhe'd gone back a long way with Nick Patinos. Would even call the man a friend, an old friend. Now what was Nick going to think of him? How could he ever ask Nick to trust him again?

  And where had Sheridan gotten Nick's name from, anyway?

  Kennealy didn't know. He'd just processed the order, then the record when the man was brought in. That was all. Why, was there a problem?