“Shall we tour the grounds and the buildings with our tourist?” Uncle Kelt inquired. “Or should we go for lunch first?”
“Let’s go for lunch first,” Jock replied. “Kati and I have been walking the streets all morning. Both of us are hungry by now.”
“Lunch it is first, then,” Uncle Kelt said jovially, as he lead them out of the office.
“I usually frequent a bistro a couple of blocks from the Legislature,” he added, once they were out on the street. “I know that the owner keeps his private rooms in the back, and the Terrace in the front, free of listening devices. The central area, he says, is more of a problem, since it’s easy enough to slip a bug into a potted plant, or some crevice or another, when no-one’s looking, and they may not be found for a while.”
“I suppose that you’re perfectly aware that your office is well supplied with that sort of insects,” Kati said in a low voice. The Monk had not come up with anything in a quick sweep up and down the avenue, but it did not hurt to be careful.
“I have assumed that it is, although I haven’t seen any. But they could be well hidden in that building—the techs the Executive hires, have access to all of it.” Uncle Kelt also kept his voice low.
“Kati here,” said Jock, “can sense those things. Find out where they are. And get rid of them if it makes sense.”
“Aah.” Uncle Kelt looked intrigued. “A natural talent of your people?” he asked.
“Actually, I have no idea if that’s true.” Kati shook her head. “These days I just accept that I can do it. And you have six in your office; one on each wall and two in the ceiling. They can catch every word spoken in the room.”
“Which is about what I expected,” the older Vultairian responded, drily. “But this means that you can tell if Marku’s Bistro is clean or not.” The notion seemed to cheer him.
“That’s the advantage of this talent,” Kati laughed. “And if there are some, and it seems safe to pop them, I can do that, too.”
“And by ‘safe’ you mean....”
“Well, at times destroying them can draw too much attention. Most of the time, I’ve just let them be, after telling the people involved where they are, because if I get rid of them, the Oligarchs will simply have their technicians put in new ones. If I leave them, and people know where the devices are, they know where they need to speak carefully.”
“Which isn’t much different from what some of us have been doing all along.”
“No, it isn’t. But then, you revolutionaries aren’t stupid, I’ve noticed.” Now it was Kati’s turn to sound dry. “But occasionally, it does come in handy to have some exact knowledge, instead of just smart people’s best guesses.”
“Apparently Kati discovered that Marston’s house in Port City was full of bugs,” Jock interjected.
“Good grief!” Uncle Kelt stopped, and turned to stare at Kati. “That’s what was the matter with him! When he was still here I thought the man was going mad; he was acting utterly paranoid! He suspected everyone of informing on him, yet as far as I could tell, his cell was quite loyal to him. That’s why it was suggested that he move to Port City; everyone who knew him thought the change of scenery would do him good! The Laggos Family must have had his house here wired up, and they probably told the Warrions to do the same! Both Families were probably having a big laugh, just waiting for him to fall apart completely!”
“That house is still bugged silly, but now he knows that it is,” Kati said with a sigh. “I didn’t dare blow a single spy-ear, just told him to never, ever talk about anything important inside those rooms. I hope that he and Liss have found a new place to live by now, and moved into it before the Warrions had time set their techs at it.”
“In Port City they may be able to rent something from one of the off-worlders,” Uncle Kelt mused. “Some of them have unused living space above or behind their businesses and will rent it out. And even Warrions wouldn’t have the nerve to insist on getting their techs into such a place before the tenants move in. The off-worlders bring in a lot of coin, and most of them could run a business anywhere in the Federation, and likely do better at it than on Vultaire.”
“Heck yes! Why didn’t I think of that? I could have sent them to Marita’s, for Heaven’s sake! She only had rooms, but they were rooms certified bugless by me! I suspect that Marston and Liss would have found the privacy wonderful!”
Uncle Kelt smiled at her.
“Marston has likely already thought of it,” he said. “The man is bright, and we now know that he’s not going mad! You’ll probably find him and Liss in your old room when you to return to Port City, and start hunting for a ride off the planet!”
*****
At Marku’s Bistro the Manager seated them on the Terrace, at a table in an outer corner, somewhat apart from the others.
“One of the politicians’ tables,” Uncle Kelt commented, once the fellow had left them.
Kati had the Granda do a discreet sweep of the area. The all-clear came quickly from The Monk who asked if she wanted him to check the rest of the establishment, too. She sent him to do that while relaying to her companions the word that they were safe from prying ears where they were.
“I’m afraid that you’re going to hear all kinds of ugly rumours about myself, and Kati here, in the next some time,” Jock said to Uncle Kelt, keeping his voice low.
“And the reason for that would be?” Uncle Kelt asked, his eyebrows up.
“We’re doing a little bit of undercover investigating,” Jock explained. “Kati and her Team are trying to put together an Unofficial Report about the Federation laws being broken on Vultaire. An Official Investigation is supposed to arrive on planet reasonably soon and she wants to have some ironclad proof of slaveholding by members of the Exalted Class to hand over to them.”
The older Vultairian turned to look at Kati, studying her features thoughtfully.
“You look like a kind, honest person, not out to hurt anyone,” he finally said. “I hope that you haven’t gotten yourself mixed up in some crazy political intrigues. Do you realize that about every ten years someone in the Federation decides that Vultairian lack of adherence to Federation regulations calls for an investigation, and not one of those Official Investigations has yet come up with any of the law-breaking that some of us have known about for decades?”
“Actually, I do,” Kati answered. “It’s why I’m here, playing the itinerant musician with three companions, and, now, Jock, who joined us at Carmakville.”
She explained about Maryse r’ma Darien’s determination to get something done about a situation which had been a thorn in her side for a long time. Kati also explained her own part in exposing the Morhinghy couple’s ruse with the boy they had brought to Lamania, claiming him as an adopted son, but whom she had recognized for a slave.
“Now there’s an arrogant Family, the Morhinghys,” Uncle Kelt muttered. “I’m not surprised that it would be two of them who got caught. Mind you, there are a lot like them on our sorry world.”
“You know, I don’t find your World particularly sorry,” Kati protested. “The Ordinary Citizens are great. And the rebels are impressive, the way they try to improve things in the face of formidable odds.”
“It’s just the 98.5 percent of the Ruling Elite that needs to be tossed to the wild animals,” Jock interjected with a short laugh.
“I’d settle for a change in the Constitution,” Uncle Kelt said. “A change that stripped the Four Hundred of their privileged position, and allowed the Ordinary Citizens, whom you just called great, Kati, a large role in the government.”
“Democracy just might do the trick,” Kati agreed. “Especially if Lamanians will send a few experts on the topic to guide you people along for the first few years. Lamanians have rather a genius for the governing arts—so I was told, and when I got there I had to admit that there is truth to the claim. Not that Lamania is perfect, but it seemed to me, that a part of their genius is the recognition that perfection
is an impossibility. So they try to create the next best thing.”
“And you apparently have hopes, or perhaps delusions, of being able to outwit the members of our Ruling Elite,” said Uncle Kelt. “Has it occurred to you that you may have bitten off more than you can chew?”
Kati smiled at him.
“It has,” she replied. “Many times. However, my philosophy is to not give up until it’s absolutely clear that there is no point in continuing, and we’re far from that. Someone who taught me a lot once said that you can use your opponent’s arrogance as a weapon against him. There’s a lot of arrogance to use around here.”
“That’s a fact,” Uncle Kelt said, and now he, too, grinned.
“Also, I have a personal motivation,” Kati added. “As a matter of fact, change in how this World is run is only a side issue for me, believe it or not, although a side issue that has come to seem a worthy goal in itself. I pledged to do all I could to help free the people who have been enslaved by the man Gorsh, who snatched me and a number of children from my world. Some of them have turned up here on Vultaire, and it seems that they cannot be freed without thrashing the system which allowed them to be bought and brought here in the first place.”
“So here you are, determined to establish to the satisfaction of Federation politicians that slavery is indeed a fact of life on Vultaire, and fomenting rebellion as you do so.”
“Maybe in my own way I’m as arrogant as those whom I oppose,” Kati admitted, her voice quiet. “Nevertheless, I believe that my cause is the better one. I want to see the slaves go free, the Klensers to have the lives of human beings, and hard-working people benefit from their labours.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Uncle Kelt said. “I’m totally with you on those things. It’s just that some of us older ones have seen our hopes get dashed time and again. It’s hard not to grow a little cynical.”
A waitress came to take the orders, and Kati took the opportunity to get the Granda’s report on the spy-ears in the restaurant.
“A number of the tables in the main section have bugs under them,” The Monk subvocalized. “A couple are buried under a thin layer of soil in potted plants, in the same area. The private rooms in the back are bug-free, just as the manager claims, as is this Terrace. Whatever he’s doing is working, and I’d bet that he knows about the ones I found and leaves them there to make it look like he’s a bigger fool than he is.”
Uncle Kelt grinned from ear to ear when Kati relayed this information to him and Jock.
“Marku’s a wily old operator,” he said cheerfully. “He manages to keep the members of all political factions coming here, every one of them thinking that he favours their group.”
“But you know that he doesn’t lean towards any, including ours, right?” asked Jock.
“That’s about the size of it,” Uncle Kelt agreed. “However, I don’t worry about him betraying us either; that’s the beauty of it. Even if he was sitting next to us, listening in on our conversation, he would never repeat it to any of the other politicians.”
“Do you still have your position on the committee that regulates the conditions on the Klenser Farms, Uncle Kelt?” Jock inquired.
Kati turned to look at him, then let her eyes flit from one man to the other. Jock hadn’t mentioned this part of the Uncle’s work previously.
“Yeah, I’ve managed to hang on to it.” Uncle Kelt sighed, shaking his head. “For all the good it does. I haven’t succeeded in improving anything; maybe, just possibly, I have been able to keep things from getting worse. I’m a buzzing gnat on that committee, annoying the majority who want to squeeze more and more profit from the Klenser operations, and the way to do it, of course, is to cut the cost of the operations while charging the Worlds which use our services, more. All I want to say on that topic is that it’s a darn good thing that the Klensers can look after their own wastes; otherwise they’d be living in filth.”
“Are they at least fed properly?” Jock asked.
“That depends on how you define ‘properly’,” Uncle Kelt replied. “There’s enough food, I’d say, mostly because the people working on those farms are diligent, and care about their charges. After all, some of them have relatives there. But lots of times the food is unnecessarily monotonous, and you can tell that often the Klensers who are in between work bursts, are having a hard time choking it down.”
“So you do tours of these farms, do you?” Kati asked.
“Regularly. But generally I go as a member of the committee, and a whole group of us gets walked through together. So if you’re looking for some opportunity to sneak you in for a peek—no, it can’t be made to happen.”
“But you could be a witness at the Investigative Committee hearings?”
“I could. I have, in the past. And I have had my testimony contradicted by the rest of the Committee, and the Investigators walked through a model farm spruced up especially for the occasion. I’ve been made to look like an idiot.”
“A Potemkin Village,” Kati muttered, then added: “But what about a nodal record? Can’t you make a nodal record while you’re doing your walkabout through the farms?”
“Nodal record?” Uncle Kelt looked from her to Jock and back again. “A what? I’m missing something here, right?”
“Kati means that your translation node can be taught to make an unalterable record of your experience of an event. That record can be downloaded into communicators and/or computers through your nodal connector, without anything being lost. Such nodal records are the way most witness information is handled on Federation worlds.”
“Can you do that, Jock?”
“I can, now, after Kati’s colleague, Joaley, who has worked as a City Peace Enforcer on Lamania, downloaded the method from her node to mine. Kati could do that for you right now; even I could pass it on now that I can make the records myself, but I’d rather have Kati do it, since her node is an old hand at it.”
“Just another thing that has been kept from us.” Uncle Kelt looked angry.
“For a good reason, I’d say,” Kati stated. “They didn’t want your kind making depositions that could not be contradicted.”
“Can you pass this knowledge to me, Kati?” Uncle Kelt requested eagerly. Suddenly his demeanour was a little more optimistic.
“If you don’t mind experiencing a little vertigo before eating, pass me your left hand. My old Monk is a practised operator.”
“What better time for vertigo than pre-meal,” Uncle Kelt chuckled, reaching for Kati’s left hand with his long arm. “It’s better than with a full stomach.”
*****
“Are you thinking of relying on Uncle Kelt’s testimony about the Klensers, or do you still want an invitation to an orgy of Klenser-abuse?” Jock asked her later, as they made their way back to Nelli’s Inn, after having toured the Legislature and its Grounds with the now ebullient Senator.
“I think that we should still arrange for a look-see at the decadent stuff,” Kati said, after a moment’s thought. “Assuming that we don’t have to do things that will make us lose whatever meal we last ate. I do have my limits.”
“I think that we’re in agreement when it comes to the limits,” Jock mused. “However, from what I have heard, most of the Exalted who take part in these sorts of ‘entertainments’, don’t pay all that much attention to what the other participants are doing; they’re usually too busy with their own enjoyments—and, often, too drugged-up to do so, anyway.”
“Hm. Sounds like I better get my impersonation of the ditzy, druggy broad up to speed. You, I suppose, can excuse any lapses on account of being one of the straight-laced Carmaks—even if, apparently, and to the delight of all, you’re in open rebellion.”
“Do they teach all this stuff in some ‘How to chase slavers school’ on Lamania?” Jock asked with a chuckle.
“You know, I don’t have a clue,” Kati replied. “I took this job before I got any training. But before reaching Lamania, I spent almost a year wi
th Mikal, crossing a Fringe World, and trying to stay a step ahead of the slaver Gorsh’s minions. Mikal taught me a lot, and one of the lessons was that, whenever possible, get help from the locals. Their help is usually invaluable, and your opponents generally underestimate the contribution that they can make.”
“Well, in this case anyway, that notion is right on,” Jock agreed drily. “Most of the Four Hundred believe the Ordinary Citizens to be idiots, and those of us in their own class who oppose their rule, to be fools.”
“Well, as long as we have a few more weeks during which it does not occur to the half-smart among the Oligarchs that an Adventuress wandering the Space Lanes might have the ability to make nodal records—and know how to pass it on. I better not even hint about the fact that my node is a Granda.”
“I don’t suppose we have all that much time left, in any case. It took us a while to get here from Ithcar. Your Mikal must be pretty close to heading for this world with his Official Investigation.”
*****
The other Troupe members had been busy, too, and were pleased to bring Kati and Jock up to date.
“We’ll be performing in a bar like we did at Marita’s,” Joaley said cheerfully. “It’s not quite as friendly as Marita’s was, and we’ll only have a show every second evening, but we do have other fish to fry. The owner is perfectly happy to let us keep all the coin that we collect—he figures that we’ll bring in business—but he did warn us that tax-collecting is strict in this city, and we’ll have to remit at least a tenth of our take to the tax-man.”
“That’s the Capital City,” said Jock. “We all have to help pay for the services, as well as decadence of our elites.”
“Hey, Jock, you and Kati are joining the decadent!” Joaley protested. “Or did you fail to make any connections? If so, the runnerbeast races tonight should give you an opportunity to find trouble, right? We won’t be playing until tomorrow night, so tonight’s for sleuthing!”
On Assignment to the Planet of the Exalted Page 53