Bones of Empire (15 page)

 

 

In spite of a reputation for crime, and the sleazy ambience for which it was known, the
X
was also an important center for commerce. Primarily because many of the wealthier non-Umans preferred to live there rather than put up with the social bias typical of the city's more fashionable suburbs. That made the
X
Quarter the natural place for non-Uman off-worlders to stay as well, both because many of the companies they worked for were quartered there, and for reasons of personal convenience.

All of which explained why the twelve-story Galaxus Hotel had been constructed in the heart of the district more than seventy years earlier and was still popular with the thousands of guests who stayed in it each year. Or those who weren't victimized by pickpockets anyway—since the Galaxus was a rich hunting ground for dexterous thieves. That was why Cato, Shani, and two other members of the bunko squad were present.

Cato was positioned in the manager's office, which was located on the second-floor gallery level, where a huge window afforded him a sweeping view of the reception desk, the sprawling lobby, and the Galaxy Bar off to the right. “Stay sharp,” he said into his lip mike as he eyed the area below. “The people we're after are here. . . . All we have to do is identify them.” There were double
clicks
by way of a response as each member of the team acknowledged the scrambled transmission.

The process wasn't going to be that simple, of course, because the perps they were looking for had stolen more than five thousand Imperials' worth of money, jewelry, and other valuables over the last week without the hotel's security team figuring out how they managed it.

While the hotel's staff was well acquainted with the traditional “bump and grab” strategies that many dips used, these crooks had clearly come up with something new. None of the victims had been bumped, none had been accosted by a decoy, and none had been so foolish as to leave a garment, purse, or bag unattended while they stepped away for a moment.

A painstaking examination of the footage captured by the hotel's security cameras had been fruitless as well, leading management to conclude that the thieves were non-Uman sentients with exotic capabilities. Which was why the Xeno Corps' bunko squad had been summoned.

So as the hours passed, Cato and his operatives stared, and stared some more, in hopes of spotting a theft as it went down. But, much to their chagrin, two guests were victimized while they looked on! An embarrassing, not to mention frustrating, situation, which explained why Cato was feeling so exasperated when lunchtime rolled around.

Having dispatched Shani and a second team member to get something to eat, Cato ordered the third officer to keep watch from above while he went down to sit in the well-furnished lobby. The theory being that whatever was taking place was so subtle, it was virtually invisible from more than a few feet away.

Having chosen one of the few Uman-standard chairs to sit in, and being surrounded by Xenos representing half a dozen races, Cato was in a good position to understand how
they
felt when forced to enter the corporate or governmental zones. Because of the anti-Uman bias prevalent in the Quarter, Cato was on the receiving end of some disapproving looks and a flood of negative emotions. One Cloque business being even got up and left.

But that was to be expected as Cato sifted through the incoming emotions searching them for any trace of the greed, excitement, and fear that a pickpocket might project. There were traces of all three, of course, but none of the individuals within “range” exhibited enough emotional intensity to qualify them as suspects, leaving the empath without a suspect.

Cato did intercept something slightly suspicious, however, which came across as a sort of emotional buzz, like static on a radio. Though far from clear, the input was familiar since he experienced it every day. Because animals have primal emotions, as do some plants, and they're everywhere. And that made it impossible to move around without picking up what amounted to emotional background sound interspersed with an occasional spike of concentrated fear or satisfaction.

So, having detected a persistent emotional buzz, and with nothing else to do, Cato eyed the area around him, looking for the source of the input. That was when his eyes came to rest on a plant. It stood about four feet tall, had broad, shiny leaves, and was positioned behind a side table across from him and off to the right.

Being no botanist, Cato didn't have the foggiest idea what kind of plant it was, but as he took a moment to survey a larger area, he saw there were quite a few of them. It was understandable, really, since the lush plants were very pleasant to look at and brought a much-needed touch of green to a mostly beige-and-brown lobby.

As Cato's eyes came back to focus on the planet nearest to his chair, he was about to dismiss the matter and direct his attention elsewhere, when he noticed a trace of movement. Not by the individuals seated to either side of the plant, but by the object itself, as a vine inched out to caress the armchair sitting next to it.

The Trelid who was seated in the chair was busy talking on a pocket com and clearly unaware of what was going on as the tendril paused for a moment, as if to make sure that it was still undiscovered. Then, confident that no one was going to interfere, the plant sent its thin, nearly invisible vine slithering down along the side of the chair and into the open briefcase that sat beside it.

Cato, who could hardly believe his eyes, continued to watch in amazement as the tentacle-like extrusion probed the inside of the briefcase and was almost immediately withdrawn. The object that was removed, and pulled back toward the plant's beautifully glazed pot, looked like a jewelry case. But it could have been a wallet, a fancy minicomp, or half a dozen other things.

Were other similar plants stealing objects as well? Having been trained to do so by a sentient who came around to clean out their pots? One of the hotel's staff members perhaps? Yes, Cato thought so, and the Xeno cop felt a sense of grim satisfaction as he rose to leave. Rather than interfere with the theft he had witnessed, thereby warning the person or persons who were responsible for the scheme, he would set a trap for them.

Such were Cato's thoughts as the stolen case disappeared into the pot, he began to get up out of his chair, and a Trelid waiter passed in front of him. A bullet hit the Trelid in the back of the head, blew his brains all over the couple seated next to Cato, and set off a chorus of screams as the waiter and his tray crashed to the floor.

Cato was still in the process of rising when the lamp next to his elbow exploded into a hundred pieces, and his partner shouted a warning through his earplug. “The shooter is a Sagathi! He's above you!”

And that was all the time there was as Cato looked up to see a man vault over the rail that ran all the way round the second-floor gallery. There was a pistol in his right hand, and as his long raincoat flared out around him, the shooter morphed into his true form. A bipedal reptile with lots of teeth.

Cato shouted, “Verafti!” and began to reach for his gun, as the more agile guests scattered. The other Xeno cop had fired two shots by then. One hit a mirror, and the second blew a vase of flowers to smithereens, while the shape shifter remained untouched.

 

 

Thanks to the information obtained from Alamy, Verafti had been able to locate Cato with relative ease and stalk him for the better part of two hours before launching his long-range attack. The problem was that he couldn't sidle up next to his quarry the way he usually would without being detected and most probably shot.

That was why he had been careful to keep clear of the Xeno cops until half of the team departed for lunch. Then, having pulled one of two pistols, Verafti fired. He knew there would be a great deal of confusion when the Uman went down. That would give him the opportunity to shift shapes, exit the building, and make good his escape.

Unfortunately, the waiter had been killed in Cato's place, the second shot had been a hair too late, so the initial phase of the plan had been irretrievably ruined. But, as he flexed his knees in anticipation of the landing, the Sagathi was ready for claw-to-hand combat.

Verafti heard a
thump
as his feet hit the floor. Cato was still in the process of bringing his pistol up, giving the Sagathi the time he needed. He shifted his weight to his left foot and executed a sweeping leg kick. Cato swore as the weapon flew out of his hand, hit the floor, and skittered away.

But the battle was far from one-sided. As Verafti completed a full 360-degree turn, the Uman took the opportunity to step forward, grab hold of his opponent's arm, and bang it against a column. Verafti felt a moment of intense pain as the pistol flew free.

Having lost the weapon, Verafti made use of his right hand to reach out and grab a fistful of jacket. If he could pull Cato in and rip out his throat, the battle would be over. But as the Uman brought his hands up and took hold of his lapels, Verafti realized his error. It had been a mistake to revert to his natural form. His left hand was missing, and he couldn't control Cato with his right!

That was when the Uman kneed Verafti in the groin. But Sagathi males keep their sex organs safely tucked away
inside
their bodies, so a blow that might have disabled a Uman had no effect whatsoever, as Verafti snapped his razor-sharp teeth. They came within a quarter inch of the Uman's vulnerable neck.

That forced Cato to push his opponent away—thereby allowing Verafti to shape shift and go for his other gun. But as Verafti drew a pistol, Cato was swinging a lamp, and would have connected if it hadn't been for one of the hotel's ubiquitous security drones. It “saw” what its Central Processing Unit perceived to be a fight between two unruly guests and took immediate action.

Unfortunately, the robot chose to stun Cato first. His muscles locked up, he fell over backward, and crashed into a table. That gave Verafti an opportunity to fire at the most immediate threat. Two of four bullets passed through the drone's alloy skin and some of the components within. Electricity crackled as the machine lost its guidance system and spiraled upward, trailing a thin wisp of smoke. A beautiful 3-D representation of the Circinus Galaxy covered the slightly concave ceiling. The drone hit it dead center and exploded into hundreds of pieces, which rained down on the lobby below.

Those guests who hadn't escaped earlier ran for the exits as the debris continued to fall. Verafti grinned and swung around to point his weapon at Cato. The empath was lying on the floor, his face locked in a horrible grimace as he battled to regain control of his body.

But as the shape shifter's finger tightened on the trigger, Shani charged across the lobby, jumped up onto a table, and used it as a platform from which to launch herself straight at the killer. She hit Verafti hard, they landed in a heap, and the pistol went spinning away.

At that point, Verafti had a choice. He could stay and fight what would almost certainly become a losing battle or cut his losses and run, thereby living to fight another day. The decision was no decision at all.

Verafti was stronger than the woman, so as she repeatedly smashed a fist into his face, he was able to break free and morph into a likeness of Alamy. Then, changing faces as he fled, Verafti was able to jump an L-shaped couch and make for the front door. Shots rang out, but none of the bullets hit him as the doors parted, and he dashed outside. Twenty seconds later, Verafti was just another Trelid, sauntering through a seedy shopping arcade, looking for a new set of clothes. Sirens wailed, a cop on a unicycle raced past on his way to the crime scene, and life went on.

LIVIUS DIDN'T ALLOW AIR CARS TO LAND ON HIS EMPLOYER'S
veranda unless the visit had been approved in advance—but there was nothing he could do to prevent the arrival of the aircraft with the word POLICE stenciled across its boxy fuselage. It circled the building as if to be sure of the landing pad's exact location before touching down. At least the siren wasn't on, for which Livius was grateful.

The side door slid open, and a female dressed in civilian clothes emerged. She was followed by Cato, who was clearly the worse for wear and forced to lean on his companion for support. Judging from all sorts of cuts and bruises, the officers had been in a fight. “I'm Officer Shani,” the woman said levelly. “A security drone stunned Cato, so it's hard for him to walk. I told him to let me handle this, but he insisted on coming along.”

“Verafti,” Cato croaked urgently. “He came after me down in the X. You know what the bastard is capable of. . . . You saw it on Dantha. Where's Legate Usurlus?”

“He's inside,” Livius replied cautiously. “But the residence is secured, and my men are on duty. So there's nothing to worry about.”

“Oh,
really
?” Shani inquired sarcastically. “Are
you
an empath? How do you know Verafti isn't posing as one of your men?”

Livius had seen firsthand what Verafti could do. His jaw worked, but nothing came out.

“Shani's right,” Cato put in levelly. “We'll take a look. Once we're sure everything is secure, we'll get out. Believe me, I'd rather be home.”

“Okay,” Livius allowed reluctantly, “but there's something you should . . .”

But it was too late by then since both variants were already crossing the veranda, closely followed by two heavily armed street cops.

 

 

Cato's entire body hurt, and occasional muscle spasms threatened to bring him down, but he was determined to not only protect Usurlus but nail Verafti if the bastard was present. And, with only a dozen people to check, Cato figured the process wouldn't take long. But he was wrong because the
thump
,
thump
,
thump
of music could be heard before he entered the residence, which was packed with beautiful people.