The man had gone from unpleasant triumph to quivering terror, since he'd discovered that he was trapped—and now disarmed—in here with the two of them. He had a lot of jaw to tremble. It made his speech unintelligible, but they could follow the shaking pointed finger to the door beside the cabinets. While the shoulders of Pidoon's finest pounded against the manager's office door, Pausert and the Leewit crammed their way out of the bathroom window.
It was only after the captain had landed awkwardly on his feet that he realized that the Leewit wasn't whistling or calling a warning because she was too busy biting an oversized uniformed man's hand. And there were ten more of them in the alleyway.
* * *
Bruised, with a swelling eye and a bloody nose, gagged and with his hands forcecuffed, the captain sat between two huge guards in the back of the groundcar. He'd seen the Leewit, similarly gagged and forcecuffed, dragged kicking into the second vehicle. They seemed to be heading out across the landing field back towards the Venture.
The two vehicles pulled up beside the Venture, along with a third transporter which was painted in the colors of the Imperial Customs and Immigration inspectorate. One seldom had trouble with them deep inside the Empire, but their orange-and-gray vehicles always inspired caution.
The Pidoon troopers threw open the doors of the groundcars and pushed the prisoners out. "March them in front of us," snapped the customs official. "The Agandar's accomplices are desperate men, but they're not likely to shoot his chief lieutenant."
Clearly, Imperial Interservice Security had woven quite a net of lies around them. The Leewit's eyes were as wide with outrage as Pausert felt his mouth would like to be, if he hadn't been gagged. He noticed that the troopers, while making the Leewit into a very small human shield, were being extremely careful to keep their shins away from her.
Obviously, someone in the Venture was watching. The damaged airlock opened.
"That's spacegun damage," said one of the customs men, pointing to the ragged burn in the hull-metal. "This is the ship we're after, all right!"
They paused, waiting for the ramp to finish extending. "Better keep her out here," snapped one official, pointing at the Leewit. "We don't want to end up as captives and hostages on their ship."
The Leewit managed to kick two of the policemen and very nearly squirmed free. But she was pushed back into one of the groundcars, and Pausert had to continue into the Venture without her.
They were met by Goth, Hulik and Vezzarn. The captain's heart fell when he saw Goth. He'd been hoping she'd have hidden in no-shape.
"What is going on, sirs?" asked Hulik.
"We're acting on information received," said the customs official who seemed to be in charge. "Seize them. We need to conduct a thorough search for the other two."
"You can't do this!" protested Hulik. "We have rights! And this ship is acting under charter from the Empress Hailie!"
The official tapped the folder under his arm. "Your little fraud has gone on long enough. We have information that this ship was involved in setting up an ambush of an Imperial patrol in the Alpha Dendi system, as part of the pirate fleet of the infamous Agandar."
"Honest, officer, we had nothing to do with that," said Vezzarn. "It was an accident. We were just caught up in the middle of it and got our ship damaged. Look at our crew, sir. No desperados. A couple of children, a young woman and me. I'm just an old spacer, sirs. Not a pirate."
"Shut your gab," snapped the official. "Forcecuff these people's hands and search the ship. Bring them with us. I want to observe them closely for any possible reactions. I want every conceivable place searched and all personnel seized."
The customs man, in his orange-and-gray uniform, saluted smartly as his men hastily grabbed Goth, Vezzarn, and Hulik do Eldel. "Yessir! This will put Gerota Town on the map! This is our lucky day!"
Captain Pausert's heart sank closer to his boots. This certainly wasn't his lucky day. No matter what shape change Goth had managed on Pul and Hantis . . . they'd be hauled out of here. If only he could talk to Goth.
They were shepherded along the Venture's passages, as the customs men displayed their expertise. They inspected absolutely everything, vibro-sensors probing the walls for hidden chambers, the officers peering everywhere, even into drawers too small to hide an infant, let alone a person. At length they came to the stateroom which the Nartheby Sprite had occupied with her grik-dog. There was no sign of either Hantis or Pul. But the customs men began with searching under the beds, chairs and cupboards.
Something, the captain felt, was odd about this room.
It was only when he glanced upwards that he realized what it was. The elegant central light-fittings were off-center. The room was not quite the right shape! Goth must be creating an illusionary bulkhead. Pausert did his level best not to look at the wall. But what would it help? Goth's illusions could fool the eye, but the vibro-sensors in the custom inspectors' hands would see right through them, so to speak.
The inspectors began on the first wall.
When they reached the end of it, Pausert saw Goth calmly nudge Hulik. The do Eldel stepped with all her weight on one spike-heeled foot . . . onto the toes of the obnoxious customs officer.
Hulik do Eldel was a slimly built aristocratic-looking woman. It was still a lot of weight to concentrate on one small square half-inch of heel.
"Yow!" The customs officer yelled and pushed her off.
Hulik's look of surprise and her apology were masterful. "I am so sorry, sir! It's these heels. I was just getting ready to disembark, and after wearing ship boots for weeks . . . I just lost my balance. I really am sorry. I do hope your foot is all right?" With a performance like that, if Hulik had actually run away to that showboat planet, she'd have been the queen of the galactic stage by now.
Naturally all the customs officials and police officers had turned to look. Facing as he was, Pausert had to keep a poker-face as the wall they'd been about examine . . . appeared to slide around to the wall that they had just finished with.
"You did that on purpose!" grumbled the customs officer, massaging his foot through his polished shoe. "You won't distract us! Check that next wall carefully."
They did. Very carefully. Eventually they finished and began on the next. And to his absolute horror, Captain Pausert began to rell vatch.
Little silver slit-eyes and vatch laughter.
Troubles never came singly.
He could see Goth knew about it, too.
The illusionary bulkhead began to develop a window. None of the customs officials were looking at it just then, concentrating their attentions on the opposite wall. But they would be sure to turn any moment now. And the window in the illusion revealed the startled face of Hantis, with Pul in her arms. It was a charming cottage window complete with leaded diamond panes and lace trimmed chintz curtains, neatly framing the fugitives' faces.
As Captain Pausert stared, unable to tear his eyes away, two things happened. First, he felt the forcecuffs on his wrists vanish. The field that had held them disappeared, and the small metal force-generator fell to the floor. And, second, looking at the window that the mischievous little vatch had created—all Pausert saw, briefly, were the Nartheby Sprite's elegant boots, moving rapidly upwards and out of view.
Plainly the little vatch thought it would have some fun with the captain trying to fight his way free, before the Imperial customs officials saw the "window" it had created in Goth's light-shift illusion.
Well, he wouldn't do what the vatch expected. And it looked as if the Nartheby Sprite had helped him to avoid having to do so. She obviously had klatha skills of her own. Or had Goth lifted her with her teleportation skill? No. Goth could manage objects of a few pounds in weight, but despite her delicate elfin appearance the Nartheby Sprite must weigh far more.
Pausert hastily concentrated on finding the vatch. He couldn't catch or control this little one with his klatha hooks, but it did seem that he could tickle and distract it.
His resistance to taking the course that the little vatch had tried to trick him into had saved them from a fight. It had also caused one of the customs officials to squint at the fading window. It was a good thing the official couldn't hear the vatchlet giggling and squeaking. Stop it, Big Dream Thing!
The man rubbed his eyes, and then very deliberately turned away shaking his head. Pausert went on "tickling" furiously. The last thing they needed now was more complications. With any luck, the vatch would go away. Pausert was so intent on tickling that he had to be herded out of the room by his captors, who weren't gentle about it. But he had his reward. The relling of vatch presence grew fainter and then vanished.
The search went on, relentlessly. The customs men got very excited about the big safe, and the secret compartment in the engine room. And became very disappointed when both proved absolutely empty of people. They did confiscate the Totisystem Toy inside it. It was a very badly designed educational toy, which Pausert and Goth had fitted there in the vain hope of fooling spies. The spies who had tried to steal the spacedrive for the Empire or the Agandar's pirates had not been taken in.
The customs officials, however, were more gullible.
Pausert grinned through his gag. If he hadn't been so mad at Gerota Town customs men, he would have felt sorry for them. He just hoped that the Totisystem Toy didn't explode on them, as the rather fiendish educational device was inclined to do. The toy was another one of the odd unsellable items that his one-time about-to-be father-in-law, Councilor Onswud, had dumped on Pausert in lieu of a decent cargo. Looking back, Pausert could see that he'd been set up to fail. Well, he'd succeeded, beyond their wildest dreams—and gotten lucky, too. He could have ended up married to the insipid Illyla. Instead she'd married Councilor Rapport while he was away. That was real luck, although it hadn't seemed like it at the time.
But right now, in the back of a smelly paddy wagon bouncing over the cobbles towards what would doubtless be an even smellier jail, Pausert didn't feel all that lucky. Hantis and Pul were still hidden on the ship, but the rest of them were being taken away from the Venture. And Pausert still hadn't had a chance to talk to Goth. Maybe they'd put them all into one cell together and . . .
Nobody had noticed yet that his hands weren't forcecuffed. That wasn't too surprising, since forcecuffs just didn't fall off. Pausert wondered if he could gain any advantage from his free hands, but it didn't seem so. The others had been transported together, but he was apparently considered more dangerous. He had a transport all to himself. It seemed unfair. It was hardly his fault that the Leewit had somehow got her guards to take her gag off. The destruction that she'd caused with her whistles had wrecked the groundcar, and had meant that the customs officers had had to call for another.
* * *
The captain's gag was only taken off after he had been transported from the jail to the courthouse. The judge wasn't particularly interested in hearing their side of the story, but the prisoners had to answer when their names were read onto the record.
"Ungag him, officer," ordered the judge. He was a lean man whose face seemed to have been colonized by a rampaging tribe of thick black eyebrows. The eyebrows crawled together and the judge peered at Pausert. "Now. Have you been correctly identified?"
This judge looked very different from the one who had soaked him for the release of Maleen, Goth's sister, in what seemed another lifetime. "Yes, Your Honor. But those charges are a pack of trumped-up lies."
The judge's heavy eyebrows seemed to twitch upwards of their own accord. "When I wish to hear from you, Captain Pausert, I will ask you to speak. Be silent or be silenced."
He peered more closely. "Why is this man not forcecuffed?"
It was some time later, and after some consternation in the court, that the judge cleared his throat. "Ahem. Now let us consider the first of the charges brought against you. You've got quite a list to answer to. Call the first witness."
"Athon Laag."
The jowl-faced Laag was the local manager for Pidoon Fuels and Lubricants, when he wasn't being first witness.
"Oh, yes, Your Honor. He's a desperate rogue. I wrestled with him for vital minutes until the police Miz Snodder had called got there. Clearly he intended to commit fraud on my company, as well as his unprovoked brutal assault on an honest businessman. When he discovered the law was outside, he finally overpowered me and fled."
"Lies!" yelled Pausert. "He threatened me with a blaster and accused me of being a pirate."
The judge waved a threatening gavel at the captain. "I told you that you would be silenced, and if you speak without permission again you will be, Captain. Continue, Laag. How did you decide he was attempting to commit fraud?"
The self-proclaimed honest businessman continued, after a fearful look at the captain. "His credit statement, your honor. His account has been blocked. He has an account with the Daal's Bank on Uldune. The one-time pirate-world, Your Honor. "
The judge steepled his fingers. "I am aware of Uldune's unsavory history."
Laag nodded. "Well, when we got the order for fuel and the banking details, we sent a notification to ISS headquarters in Pidoon City. It's routine. Imperial Security looks carefully at money coming from that source."
The judge snorted. "Hardly surprising."
"Yes, Your Honor," nodded Laag. "We got a call from them about three minutes later, revealing that that man"—he pointed to Pausert—"was one of the notorious Agandar's closest associates. We were asked to delay them as much as possible, as it was believed that he had two wanted and dangerous assassins on board his ship."
The judge's caterpillarlike eyebrows did a rapid crawl inward and out again. "Bankrupt, charged with assault, attempted fraud, consorting with criminals. Well, Captain Pausert? Now you may speak."
Captain Pausert didn't think it would help him much. "Your Honor, I am not one of the Agandar's associates. In fact we are being pursued by his fleet, because we were responsible for his death! You can confirm that with the Governor of Green Galaine province on Emris."
The prosecutor stood up, waving a piece of paper. "Your Honor, we have here a transcript of a report from Captain Benit of the Imperial Space Navy Cruiser Saraband. It states clearly that one Captain Pausert of a ship identified as the one now on Gerota Town landing field, did not only refuse to halt, but decoyed them into a pirate ambush."
The judge looked sternly at the captain. "Did you or did you not disobey a lawful order from an Imperial Navy vessel to halt?"
"Yes, but . . ."
Pausert was right. Being allowed to talk wasn't helping much at all. Within twenty minutes he was being herded away to start his fifty-five-year sentence. The extra three years that he'd gotten for the injury of a customs official, because of the Totisystem Toy's self-destruction, was merely the most unfair of a number of injustices. He wondered what they'd do to the others, and just how they could get out of this mess. He had noticed that Hulik do Eldel wasn't with the others in the holding pen at the back of the courtroom. But he'd had no chance to find out why, or even to exchange a word with them.
* * *
The captain explored his cell very carefully. That used up half a minute. Only fifty-four years, eleven months, thirty days, twenty-three hours, fifty-nine minutes and some change to go . . .
After that, he alternated between pacing, staring at the bars while sitting on the bed, and staring at the bars while standing up. It went well with his mental state, which alternated between fuming about how they'd been caught, worrying about the others, worrying about their mission, and worrying about Hantis and Pul, left sitting inside the Venture.
His worrying was interrupted by the click of heels coming down the concrete floor of the passage. With any luck it would be some food, and maybe a chance to ask the jailor about the others.
"Good evening, Captain."
Captain Pausert sat down on the bed, gaping at Hulik do Eldel in a freshly pressed ISS uniform.
"You! You . . . you . . ."
; "Traitor?" she supplied. "Turncoat?" She casually flicked a folded piece of paper into his cell. "I suggest you keep your temper and cooperate with me."
Was that the flicker of a wink? What was going on?
"I think 'rat' was the word I was looking for," said the captain grimly. "And, as for cooperate! Great Patham's seventh hell! I'll see you rot first, do Eldel."
She smiled coolly. "Come now, Captain Pausert, mind your temper and your language. You're the one who will rot in here—unless you cooperate. We want the two alien passengers you have hidden on the Venture. You are going to tell us, Captain. You or one of the others."
Now the captain was sure that it had been a wink! Hulik had known where the Nartheby Sprite and the grik-dog had been hiding.
Well, if Hulik wanted him to play along he'd do his best. He shook the bars furiously. "What have you done with the others, you devils! Where are my nieces? You know that these are ridiculous trumped-up charges! You know we should be back on our ship and on our way. When word of this gets back to the Empress Hailie, heads are going to roll. Even heads within the ISS!"
Hulik curled her lip, disdainfully. "Your threats, while you and your companions are behind bars, are not exactly terrifying, Captain. I'll leave you with the thought that you are a bankrupt prisoner, unable to pay landing fees, and your ship has been impounded. If it is not redeemed within thirty-six hours, it'll be towed out into space and used as a target hulk by the Imperial Space Navy. Even if we can't find the villains we're looking for, we'll destroy them along with their hiding place. Think about that for a while. I'll be back in an hour or so to see if you've decided to cooperate."
She turned and left, and Captain Pausert went on clinging to the bars. It was a good thing he'd been holding on when she'd told him about the Venture. That had helped to keep him on his feet. Did their troubles only ever seem to get worse? It took him a few minutes to let go of the bars and remember the tiny piece of folded paper Hulik had flicked so casually into his cell. He walked over towards it, pretended to stumble and picked it up.
The Wizard of Karres Page 5