Judgment at Proteus (23 page)

“Which led me to Sector 25-C, where no one knew me, and into an ambush,” I reminded her. “Maybe it didn’t backfire as badly as you think.”

“Oh,” she said. “Right.”

“But let’s not be hasty,” I continued. “They may have gotten me hired so as to set me up for the ambush. But on the other hand, it could also be that the ambush was their response to me getting hired. In which case, we could argue that there’s something about Yleli or his murder that they don’t want us to find. Or else they want us to
think
there’s something about the murder they don’t want us to find.”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Bayta said slowly. “I don’t know, Frank. This whole thing’s starting to sound like a bizarre game.”

“Not if
Asantra
Muzzfor was a representative member of the group,” I said grimly. “He could get as convoluted as the best of us, but there was always a solid core of intent and motive beneath all the foam. If this is a game, there’s some deadly reason for them to be playing it.”

Bayta snorted. “All it’s doing…” She trailed off.

“All it’s doing is what?” I prompted.

“I was going to say all it’s doing is wasting time,” she said slowly. “But then I realized it’s mostly wasting
our
time.
And
keeping us away from Terese.”

That was a thought that had been hovering around the edges of my mind ever since Emikai and I discovered the tricked-out hypos. “Well, if that was their plan, it’s about to come to a screeching halt.”

“What are you going to do?” Bayta asked. “Tell someone about the extra drugs they’ve been giving her?”

“Not
someone
,” I said with a tight smile. “
Everyone
.”

She frowned at me. “What?”

“You heard me,” I said. “I’m going to write up the whole thing and put it on the station’s main computer network. An hour from now, every pea-picking horse-faced Filly on Proteus is going to know about it.”

“That should certainly stir things up,” Bayta murmured.

“I hope so,” I said. “At this point, stirring is exactly what we want.”

We passed the receptionist at the archway and headed across the dome. Foot traffic seemed a bit lighter than usual, and I wondered briefly if this might be a good time to drop in on Building Twelve and see what the hell was going on in there.

But there were two figures loitering outside that particular building’s main entrance, and I doubted they were just sampling the air. Making a mental note to check on the place again when I headed back to interrogate Blue One, I continued on to Building Eight, courteously opening the door for Bayta and the two watchdogs. I nodded a greeting to the receptionist as we passed, pressed myself against the wall halfway down the corridor to get out of the way of a tech with a loaded equipment cart, and turned into Terese’s room.

To find an empty, neatly made-up bed.

I walked to the side of the bed, my eyes and brain taking a quick inventory. The narrow cabinet that had held a change of clothing was empty. So was the under-bed shelf where she’d kept her reader and music headphones.

I turned around to find Bayta standing just inside the doorway, her eyes wide. “Frank—”

“Come on,” I said, taking her hand and heading back into the hallway. I nearly ran down the same Filly tech along the way and brought us to a halt in front of the receptionist. “Where is she?” I asked shortly.

The Filly gave me a quizzical look. {Who?}

“The Human girl, Terese German,” I said, striving to keep my voice civil. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation. “She’s gone. Where did they take her?”

The receptionist dropped her gaze to her computer display and punched a few keys on her board. {Terese German was checked out an hour and twenty minutes ago,} she reported. {Her condition had worsened, and her doctors decided to move her to an intensive-care facility.}

I clenched my teeth. An hour twenty would put it right after Bayta and Minnario had left. Also right after Aronobal had discovered that two of the gimmicked hypos were missing. “Which one?” I asked. “One of the other buildings here in the dome?”

{No,} the receptionist said, her blaze paling a little in confusion as she peered at the screen. {She’s not here.}

“Then where?”

{I don’t know,} she admitted, still studying her screen. {The location should be listed. But the reference point is blank.}

I looked at Bayta’s ashen face. She’d been right. The Shonkla-raa had indeed wanted to keep us away from Terese.

And now they’d succeeded.

ELEVEN

“You must try to calm down, Mr. Compton,” Captain of the Guard Lyarrom said in probably the closest he could get to a soothing voice. “We are doing our best to locate your friend.”

I looked at Bayta, who was sitting in a corner of the security nexus, her face rigid with her efforts to hide her emotions. I looked at Emikai, whom I’d summoned back from Minnario’s room and who was now standing stiffly beside her. “I appreciate your words of concern, Guard Captain Lyarrom,” I said. “You’ll forgive my impertinence if I say that’s not good enough.”

“One’s best is all that one can do,” he said in a sage, grandfatherly way.

“Then maybe it’s time to bring in more people and add
their
best to the mix,” I countered. “For starters, you could start a trace on Dr. Aronobal’s comm—chances are she’s still with Ms. German. You could bring in patrollers from other parts of Proteus and get them started on a room-by-room search, starting with her quarters—”

“Ms. German’s quarters have already been searched,” he put in. “There is nothing of any help to us there.”

“—and finally, if you can’t or won’t get through the bureaucratic inertia,” I concluded, “I suggest you bring in
Chinzro
Hchchu to streamline things.”

Lyarrom’s face had grown stiffer, and his blaze darker, with each suggestion. “Mr. Compton, you are seriously overreacting,” he said stiffly. “There is no evidence of criminal wrongdoing in this matter. Nor is there any evidence that Dr. Aronobal is in danger, impaired, or engaged in criminal behavior, which are the legal requirements for activating her comm’s tracker. Finally—”

“So get
Chinzro
Hchchu in here to override those requirements.”

“Finally, your verbal contract regarding Ms. German’s safety ended when she came aboard
Kuzyatru
Station,” Lyarrom said, raising his volume. “As to your final suggestion, I am
not
going to call in
Kuzyatru
Station’s assistant director to deal with a bookkeeping error.”

I took a careful breath, fighting back the urge to punch the complacent idiot in his snout. “Fine,” I said between clenched teeth. “You just stay inside your nice, comfortable guidelines and limitations. When dead bodies start showing up, don’t blame me.”

Without waiting for a reply I stalked over to Bayta and Emikai. “You okay?” I asked Bayta quietly.

“I shouldn’t have left her,” Bayta murmured, her voice on the edge of tears. “I should have just sent Minnario when you called and stayed with her.”

I grimaced. Minnario. If the Nemut hadn’t pulled his own vanishing act that first night, it might have been easier to convince Lyarrom that Terese’s disappearance was something more serious than a bureaucratic glitch. But then, that had hardly been Minnario’s fault.

Nor was Terese’s disappearance Bayta’s. “You had no way of knowing,” I reminded her.

“Didn’t I?” Bayta countered darkly. “I knew Dr. Aronobal knew about the missing hypos. I should have guessed she and the others wouldn’t just leave things the way they were.”

“And what exactly would you have done to stop them?” I shot back, more harshly than I’d intended. I should have anticipated this, too. Even more than Bayta should have. “In fact, I’d go so far to say that, under the circumstances, I’m just as glad you
weren’t
in their way when they decided to move her. Who knows what they would have done to you?”

“I’m not as helpless as everyone thinks,” she said stiffly. She sighed and lowered her eyes. “But you’re probably right.”

Which wasn’t to say that I
was
right, or that she believed I was right, or that any of my soothing logic was making her feel better. “Regardless, what’s past is past,” I said. “We need to focus on finding her and getting her back.”

“Right.” Bayta took a deep breath. “What do you want me to do?”

“Go back to our room and start figuring out who Blue One is,” I told her. “If and when you finish with that, start making a list of all medical facilities in this part of Proteus—yes, I know there are a lot of them, but we have to start somewhere.
Logra
Emikai, would you escort her back to the room?”

“Of course,” Emikai said, his voice dark and grim. His contract to keep Terese safe had ended, too, but that clearly wasn’t making any more difference to him than it was to me. “What will you do?”

I looked over at the Jumpsuits poring over their controls in front of their fancy monitor banks. Fat lot of good any of it, or any of them, had done us. “I’m going to have a word with my attorney,” I said. “Watch yourselves. Both of you.”

*   *   *

Minnario was understandably surprised to see me. [I thought you would be at least another hour,] he said, wiping his mouth with a cloth as he backed his chair out of the doorway to let me in. [Forgive me—I’d just brought in my dinner.]

“No problem,” I assured him, looking over at the couch. Blue One didn’t seem to have moved. “You left him alone?”

[The restaurants don’t deliver,] he reminded me. [But I checked his restraints before I left, and I was gone less than fifteen minutes. May I offer you something?]

“No, thank you,” I said, walking over to the couch and reaching around behind the Filly. The quick-locks were still securely in place. “Please go ahead with your meal,” I added as I pulled over the computer desk chair and sat down facing the prisoner. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

Among the Human diplomats I’d escorted during my early days in Westali, Nemuti were considered fairly low on the list of desirable dinner companions. The species in general tended to chomp their food, and their truncated-cone-shaped mouths added an odd echo effect to the sound of their mastication. The additional distortion of Minnario’s mouth, I quickly discovered, greatly enhanced the overall effect.

Back on the super-express, the Modhran mind segment I’d dealt with had mentioned that, as far as he knew, Minnario always took his meals alone. Now I knew why.

He’d finished his main meal and was starting on his dessert cheese when Bayta finally called.

“I can’t get a match on Blue One’s face with anyone aboard the station,” she said tightly. “Staff, visitors, clients—no one. As far as the main computer is concerned, he simply doesn’t exist.”

“Terrific,” I growled. “Is Emikai there with you?”

“No, he left as soon as we reached the room,” she said. “He said there were some things he had to do.”

“You’ve double-locked the door, though, right?” I asked. “Blue One had a passkey, remember. Some of the others might have them, too.”

“Double-locked, one of the dining chairs is pressed against it to make it harder to slide, and Ty’s lying down beside it,” she assured me.

Clearly, my native paranoia had started rubbing off on her. Aboard Proteus, that was increasingly looking like a good thing. “And you’ve been through all the records?”

“Everything I can find,” she said. “Do you want me to keep digging?”

“Probably no point,” I said. “But there are bound to be areas of the computer you haven’t been able to access. Maybe we’ll call Emikai in later and see if his cop training included system hacking.”

“You think it might?”

“Mine did,” I reminded her. “Besides, he did say earlier that even enforcement officers sometimes have to improvise. Go ahead and get started on that listing of nearby medical areas.”

“All right,” she said. “Is he awake yet?”

I looked at Blue One. His eyes were still closed, his face still slack. From all outward appearances he seemed to still be in the depths of dreamland.

All appearances but one. His breathing, while still slow, was definitely faster and stronger than it had been when I’d first begun my vigil. “Actually, he just woke up,” I said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

I keyed off the comm and reached out a foot to nudge Blue One in his side. “Come on, look alive,” I said. “I haven’t got all night.”

For a moment he didn’t move. I was picking out a spot for my next kick, a harder one this time, when he opened his eyes. “Interesting, that last conversation,” he said. “Have you misplaced someone?”

“Only temporarily,” I said. “You want to tell me what you know about it? Or do I have to beat it out of you?”

He favored me with another of his thin, evil smiles. “Address me by name,” he said.

“Sure,” I said. “What name would you like me to use?”

“By my name,” he repeated. “Or this conversation is ended.”

“I don’t know your name.”

“A pity,” he said, and closed his eyes again.

I felt my lip twitch. In other words, he wanted to know how much I actually knew. “How about
Shonkla-raa
?” I asked. “That close enough?”

He opened his eyes again, his blaze darkening. “So we were right,” he said quietly. “You did indeed examine
Asantra
Muzzfor’s papers aboard the Quadrail.” He cocked his head. “And if he didn’t destroy them, it follows that everything else you told us concerning his death was a lie.”

“Most of it,” I agreed. “The truth is that he attacked me after the murder investigation was over. Without warning or provocation, of course.”

“And?”

I looked him squarely in the eye. “And during the fight I killed him.”

His blaze darkened even farther. “Impossible,” he said flatly.

“I’m sure you’d like to think so,” I said. “But it might just be that you don’t know as much about me as you think you do.” I leaned back deliberately in my chair. “You ever hear of the mystery of Quadrail 219117?”

“The outbound train from Homshil to the Bellidosh Estates-General,” he said. “The one that…” He trailed off, an odd expression suddenly on his face.