“Thank you, Marita,” Kati said, stressing every word. “I’m glad that you trust us enough to warn us. Clearly the Warrion consoles are not an option for us. Neither Joaley or I have a particularly murky past, but I’m pretty sure that one or the other, or both of us, have done things and been to places that would give a paranoid pause.”
Marita smiled.
“It would be pretty hard to live a life outside this world and not do that,” she said.
“So, what do you do when you need to reach someone on the outside?” Joaley boldly asked Marita. “I imagine that you need to do so, occasionally.”
“There are ways to get to use the consoles at the Customs,” Marita said carefully. “They’re safe to use since they get random inspections.”
“And the ways would be...?” Joaley arched her eyebrows. “I suppose they involve knowing somebody who knows somebody...right?”
“Growing a little less naive every minute, aren’t you?” Marita queried back, a crooked grin on her face.
“I guess we could try Cary’s contact,” Kati suggested with a slight shrug. “He’s supposed to be working at the Space Port.”
“Cary’s contact? What’s this?” Now Marita’s eyebrows were up.
“We ran into a Vultairian musician in Lamania’s Second City who was basically an exile,” Joaley said carefully, catching up the ball that Kati had tossed her. “He told us when we left, that if ever we got stuck on Vultaire and needed help, we should contact this particular guy. Apparently he can be trusted.”
“You should have stayed on Lamania once you reached it,” Marita muttered. “But young people will insist on adventuring. Did it myself, and how I’m going to keep Mirry from doing it I don’t know.”
Kati and Joaley shared a quick glance. They had not noticed Mirry behaving in a manner that suggested that she was itching to leave home. But they had not been around Marita’s Terrace and Bar long enough to know all the nuances.
“The Vultairian contact is probably a member of the Underground,” Marita added in a low voice, even though they were talking inside her office. “Belongs to one of the rebel groups fighting against the Oligarchs. There are many of those, and if ever someone manages to unite them into a cohesive whole, the Four Hundred Families will have a massive problem on their hands. But so far the Four Hundred have succeeded in sowing discord among them, keeping them fighting amongst themselves, and unable to see the real enemy for what it is.”
“It’s a pity,” said Joaley. “Even I can see, and we’ve been here only days, that the Oligarchs are disregarding Federation laws wholesale.”
“And the Federation lets them do it,” Marita said, and there was a touch of bitterness in her voice. “They don’t want to interfere in the internal affairs of an old Federation Planet. So what if things have deteriorated to the point where a person is hard put to tell the difference between the Federation world and the least civilized of the Fringe planets?”
“What would it take, do you think, for the Federation to pay attention to what’s going on here?” Kati asked, her eyes on Marita’s.
The older woman shook her head.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe a breach of Federation law so blatant that not even the lard-butts in the Federation Senate and the Councils could ignore it. But it would have to be visible for all to see; with the Four Hundred not able to cover their backsides on the Federation Space Station. And they are good at covering their ass ends.”
*****
“The business about accessing a safe communications console actually is a good cover for contacting this Marston,” Kati told Joaley as they headed in the direction of the Municipal office which, according to Marita, housed the City Directory. “If the Exalted become aware that we’re poking around among the locals, wanting to use a bugless connection to access the Federation Musical Archives would explain a lot. Even if they don’t like it, they’ll at least understand it. And the Ordinary Citizens are, most likely, perfectly aware of the situation, and won’t mind making a few coins behind the Oligarchs’ backs.”
“Yeah, it was better not to push Marita to reveal her route to accessing the Customs consoles,” Joaley agreed. “That’s an option we can fall back on if this one blows. But if we can get the music we need, and an introduction into a rebel group, we’ll be ready to leave town as soon as we hook up with Rakil and Lank.”
“Yeah. I’m kind of hoping that Marston can point us in the direction in which we ought to be heading. So far we’ve seen zilch, nothing of the Klensers, and less than nothing of slavery. Yet the air is heavy with innuendo about the dastardly deeds of the Four Hundred.”
Kati gave her head a shake.
“I guess I’m impatient to get things underway,” she added.
“Yeah. Performing at Marita’s is all well and good, but it doesn’t get the main job done,” Joaley agreed. “Mind you, we’ve only been at this for two days. We ought to curb our impatience, at least until the rest of the crew arrives.”
Kati chuckled.
“That’s true. And here we are; this building has got to be the one Marita described. Shall we go in and ask after the Municipal Directory of Citizens?”
The office was staffed by non-Exalteds, except for a single peacock of a man who was doing a lazy round among the clerks seated at desks, and behind a long counter. Kati noted that the clerks were pushing paper exclusively; there was not a communications console in sight. She and Joaley had arrived at a quiet time of the day; there were only a few clients being served.
Joaley headed for the reception desk, which was easy to identify; it was the only desk on the public side of the counter. Kati followed, assuming an air of confidence which she did not feel, since the peacock had turned to stare at them.
“Warrion spy,” subvocalized the Granda. “Spying on the workers, as well as those that the workers serve. Probably officially known as the Manager. But no doubt useless in that capacity—the Exalteds are lazy bastards.”
Now where did all of that information come from? The Monk did not explain and there was no chance to probe. Probably from one or another of the Granda’s past human existences. Many of those had been spent among the criminals of the Fringe Planets, and they may have had dealings with the Exalted Vultairians. She was going to have to have a tete-a-tete of sorts with the old reprobate—he might have all kinds of useful information.
The young man at the reception desk looked efficient, if slightly nervous.
“We’re looking for the address, and possibly the workplace, if that’s available, of a resident of the city,” Joaley said, her voice pleasant.
“Citizen or non-Citizen?” the receptionist inquired.
“I believe this person would be a Citizen,” Joaley responded, but with a split-second pause before speaking.
“If you go to end of the counter at the left, the clerk should be able to help you,” the receptionist said, gesturing towards a spot where a couple of stools stood by the counter, but there were no clients.
Joaley thanked him and she and Kati walked over to the spot that he had indicated. The counter might have come to the waist of the Vultairians but it reached to Kati’s chest as she stood beside it, and the height was even worse for Joaley.
“I feel like a child,” she muttered, climbing awkwardly to sit on one of the stools.
Kati decided to remain standing, and moved closer to the red-head. She laid her elbows on the counter, awkwardly, but feeling less gauche than if she had been teetering on a tall seat. The Exalted man had stopped his pacing, but kept on staring. Others in the room eyed the women more covertly, continuing to carry on with whatever it was that they had been doing.
The nearest clerk walked over to loom above them.
“May I help you?” she asked politely.
“Yes, please,” Kati replied, just as politely. “We have the name of a Citizen whom an acquaintance off-world asked us to contact if we found ourselves here in Vultaire Port City,” she continued, improvi
sing. “We were told that we could get his address, or perhaps his place of employment, if that would make more sense, from the City Directory, here.”
“Likely the home address would be better,” the woman said, hauling a large book onto the counter from a shelf beneath it.
“If you can give me the name, please; the full name, if you have it.”
Kati gave Marston’s name as Cary had impressed it upon her, keeping her voice soft enough that the peacock, noded as he would be, would fail to catch it. Let him come over and snoop openly, if he wanted to know their business. Or let him grill the clerk once they were gone.
The Monk made a sign of approval inside her mind.
The clerk opened the book, leafing through some of it, before finally settling on a page. She searched the page, using her finger as an indicator, making Kati think of a giant child who had just learned to read, following the words upon a page. She suppressed an impulse to laugh, schooling her face into a neutral expression. Even as she did so, she could see that Joaley’s mouth was trembling; a similar thought must have occurred to her.
The clerk found what she was looking for, and, taking a notepad and a pen from under the counter wrote the information down on a page of the pad. She then tore the paper off the pad and passed it to Joaley who was closer to her.
Joaley looked at what must have seemed like an unintelligible scribble to her. They had not had the time to learn Vultairian script before leaving Lamania; perhaps they should have made the time.
“I can read it,” the Granda growled in Kati’s head, and Kati reached over for the note.
“Do you know how to get to this address?” Joaley meanwhile asked the Vultairian. “I’m afraid that we’ve found this city rather confusing so far. I suspect that a mere address is not going to tell either of us too much.”
She’s good, thought Kati.
“Do you want me to write the instructions down for you?” the clerk asked, reaching for the paper she had just surrendered.
“Now that would be a waste of effort.”
It was the peacock, suddenly come to stand behind the Vultairian clerk.
“These foreigners have nodes, Clarisa. Note the lumps under their left ears. They may be already fluent speaking our language, but I very much doubt that either of them has bothered to learn our writing. It’s not necessary when they can store vast amount of information inside their heads, and recover it instantly when necessary. So just tell them what they want to know without bothering to write it down.”
The note fluttered down onto the counter from the clerk’s fingers, as she turned to stare at the Exalted. Kati grabbed it before anyone else could, and folded it into her palm.
“Yes—yes, Exalted Vin Warrion,” Clarisa stuttered.
She pulled herself together visibly, turning to address Kati and Joaley. She repeated the address that she had written down moments ago, and then explained the shortest way to get there from the office where they were, and even asked if they wanted to know how to make the trip from Marita’s—apparently she knew about their performances of the past two nights.
“No, that’s fine,” Kati replied with a smile. “I think we can figure that out for ourselves. Thank you very much for the help that you’ve given us.”
She ignored the Exalted who was looking down on her and Joaley, a half-smile on his face. The Monk was fuming, but she ignored him, too.
She had to wait while Joaley descended from the tall stool to the floor, her mouth a thin line. Vin Warrion was obviously enjoying Joaley’s struggle with the stool, and this was further pissing off the Granda. Kati asked him to dial up her hearing to its highest sensitivity, and therefore caught the peacock’s comment as they were leaving.
“Amusing little creatures,” he said. “Wonder what they want with that troublemaker, Marston?”
*****
“Damnation! I’d like to stick a ceremonial sword into that Exalted asshole’s gut!” Joaley snarled as soon as they were on the street.
“Shh!” Kati shushed her. There were plenty of people, mainly Vultairians, within hearing distance.
A passer-by, a male Ordinary Citizen, likely in his mid-thirties, stopped beside them and laughed.
“If you’re talking about Vin Warrion, and since you just came from the Municipal Information Office, I’m assuming that you are, know that I second your sentiments, as do most of the other people on the street,” he told Joaley. “So don’t worry about giving vent to your ire. You are, after all, the best entertainment in town right now. Nightlife won’t ever be the same in Port City, you do realize that, don’t you?”
“I’m a little surprised that what we do is new,” Kati said, looking the man over. “I thought sing-alongs were a staple of entertainment.”
“Perhaps where you’re from. Not here.”
She invited him to stop by the entertainers’ table at Marita’s to say “Hello” the next time he came in. That had him grinning broadly as he went on his way.
“Well, you certainly made his day,” Joaley commented drily, as they headed in the direction that the clerk’s instructions had indicated. “Of course, tonight he’ll be plaguing us at Marita’s.”
“But Mutt and Batt will be there to protect us,” Kati chuckled, speeding up her steps. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s see if this Marston is at home in the middle of the day.”
*****
Marston was at home, but he was not exactly pleased to see two off-world women at his doorstep.
“What do you want with me?” he asked bluntly, half-closing the door behind him.
Alarm bells were ringing inside Kati’s head. She glanced at Joaley who looked totally unperturbed, and nudged her.
“You talk,” she murmured in an undertone only a noded person could catch. “I have to check something out.”
She sent the Granda riding her ESP sense, to get a feel of the man in front of them, and to find out what was wrong in the row house behind him. There was something wrong, Kati was certain of that, but Marston radiated only confusion which told her that he, likely, did not know what it was.
Joaley caught the ball that Kati had tossed.
“We met a fellow named Cary while we were in Lamania’s Second City,” she said to Marston, smiling. “He asked us to look you up, should we, on our travels find ourselves here, and to tell you that he’s doing just fine these days. Well, here we are, and keeping our promise.”
She glanced around at the street and the other row house stoops around them.
“Maybe we could talk inside,” she suggested.
“No, not inside!” Kati jerked back into the moment from communing with The Monk. She grabbed hold of Marston’s wrist, and pulled him away from the door. The Vultairian was too surprised to resist.
“Come for a walk with us, Marston,” she added urgently. “Is there a park around here anywhere, or some other open, natural environment?”
“Listen to her,” Joaley hissed to the man. “When Kati gives a warning, it’s a very good idea to pay attention.”
“There’s an empty lot which the children around her use as a playground, about a block away,” Marston said, looking shaken. “Just a second.
“I’ll be back in a short while,” he shouted to someone through the door, then pulled it shut.
He led them down the street, around a corner, and to an open space covered in brush and weeds. There were tall Vultairian children playing and laughing in a far corner of the rectangular lot, but the rest of it was empty of people.
“This’ll do,” The Monk subvocalized after a quick ESP reconnaissance, and then settled into silence.
“What is this all about?” Marston asked.
He seemed to have recovered his equilibrium during the walk. Nevertheless, he seemed tired and frazzled, too much so for a man of his age, which Kati judged at about thirty.
“To begin with,” Kati answered in a flat voice, “your house is bugged.”
“My house is...?” he looked puzzled.
&nbs
p; “...under electronic surveillance,” Joaley finished the statement for him. “Someone is listening to your conversations. Depending on the quality of the equipment they’re using, they may even be imaging whatever goes on there. Somebody’s keeping a record of all the comings and goings inside your home.”
Marston’s face blanched as Joaley spoke.
“So that’s why.... I’ve been trying to figure out who has been betraying us—me.”
He buried his face in his hands.
“Ye gods, what you say explains everything! Here I’ve been accusing the people that we’ve been trying to get together, of being in cahoots with the Exalted, of passing information to the Oligarchs about our doings!”
He let his hands fall down and turned to stare at Kati.
“But how can you know?”
Joaley answered:
“We both have nodes but Kati has a very special one, called the Granda node. It, combined with her own special talents, can do amazing things, like suss out electronic gear that should not be where it is.”
“I sensed when you answered the door, that something was very wrong in your house, so I sent the Granda to investigate, and it let me know that somebody had wired up the place so well that a pet cat couldn’t take a nap in there without it being known,” Kati added. “If you’ve been having meetings in your kitchen, the Oligarchs know all about them.”
“And how better to foment discord than to keep everyone involved mistrusting one another,” Joaley added.
“Sounds like Cary must have converted you to our cause,” Marston commented, looking from one short woman to the other. “I hadn’t judged him for a proselytizer; he just seemed like a very frightened young man.”
“Oh, he’s not out to convert anyone, although he’s learning to be a little less frightened than he was,” Joaley responded.
“I’m glad that he made it to The Second City safely. The word here is that as long as you can manage to stay out of the sight of any Exalted Vultairian tourists, The Second City is perfectly safe for ordinary Vultairians. And the Lamanians make sure that no-one on their World goes hungry, or without treatment, if they’re ill.”
On Assignment to the Planet of the Exalted Page 14