Angelmass. Part 37

"I'd like you to pull up the record for Hanan Daviee," he said. "He came in the same time as my aide Mr. Ronyon."

"Yes, we all saw it on the news," the nurse murmured, pressing keys on her board. "Terrible situation... here it is. He suffered severe damage to his exobraces, with feedback damage to his own neural system. He's currently stable, but weak."

"Prognosis?"

The corners of her mouth tightened as she scanned the listing. "He'll need to have some reconstructive work done on his spinal cord," she said. "How much he'll be able to recover will depend on how much work they can do."

"What are the limiting factors?" Pirbazari asked from Forsythe's side.

Her mouth tightened a bit more. "To put it cra.s.sly, money," she told him. "The work involved is complex and expensive. Very simply, the more he can afford, the more of a recovery he can make."

"I thought Gabriel paid for work-related health problems," Pirbazari said.

"Some of them, yes," the nurse said. "The entire hospital stay will be taken care of, for instance. But his long-term neural problems are congenital, not work-related, and they aren't covered."

"Thank you," Forsythe said, taking Pirbazari's arm and turning away. "Interesting," he commented as they headed down the corridor again. "Maybe you were at least partially right, Zar. The tiger may not change his stripes, but he may occasionally roll over and purr."

Pirbazari shook his head. "You've lost me."

Forsythe nodded back toward the nurses' station. "Our friend Mr. Daviee needs large amounts of money for an operation. Our other friend, Chandris Lalasha, is a lady whose profession is to separate people from large amounts of money. Coincidence?"

Pirbazari frowned. "Are you suggesting the Daviees hired her to get money for them?"

"Or else she's taken them on as a charity case," Forsythe said. "Either way, she still bears watching."

"All right," Pirbazari said, not sounding entirely convinced. "You want me to put the police onto her?"

Forsythe pursed his lips. "Not yet," he said slowly. "She may have ways of keeping tabs on what the police are up to. Let's just watch her ourselves for a couple of days."

"Both of us?"

"Yes," Forsythe said. "I've got an inside connection with these people; you're an outsider none of them know. Between us, we should have them pretty well covered."

"You're going to stay here yourself, then?" Pirbazari asked. "There's a lot of work waiting for you on Uhuru."

"There's enough I can do here," Forsythe said. "Try to catch up on my reading, for one thing. I'll send Slavis back-he can sit in on any meetings and take notes for me."

"He can't cast votes for you."

"There's nothing important coming up for at least two weeks," Forsythe said firmly. "At any rate, Ronyon's not going to be able to travel for another day or two at the earliest, and I'm not leaving without him."

He glanced into a deserted lounge alcove as they pa.s.sed it, looking at the darkness outside the far windows. "Besides," he added quietly, "whatever Lalasha and Kosta are up to, they didn't cause what happened at Angelma.s.s. Something strange is going on out there. I'm not leaving until I find out what."

CHAPTER 29.

The equipment list came up, scrolling down the screen; and beside Kosta, Gyasi gave a low whistle. "Holy scud, Jereko," he said. "It's going to take all that?"

"Looks like it," Kosta conceded, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he ran his eye down the list. A couple of the items there he could probably sneak out for a few days without anyone noticing. But not all of them. Not a chance.

"What's that, your equipment list?" Chandris asked, swiveling around from the terminal she'd been working on.

"That's it," Gyasi confirmed. "And it might explain why no one's ever seen an anti-angel before. Half this stuff didn't even exist the last time anyone went out hunting for one."

"And it might as well not exist now for all the good it's going to do us," Kosta added sourly. "We're never going to be able to collect all this."

"Anyone ever tell you you give up too easily?" Chandris chided, coming over and standing over him, leaning forward to peer at the display. "The big question is whether we can fit it all aboard the Gazelle.""Is the Gazelle going to be able to fly any time soon?" Kosta countered."The damage a.s.sessment's mostly done," she said. "The refit's going to take some serious work, but it's nothing a good maintenance crew can't handle.""Sure, but how long will it take?""That one is a problem," Chandris said reluctantly. "Maintenance hasn't even got it scheduled yet; but from the size of their current work list my guess is they won't get to it for at least a month.

Maybe more."

Kosta shivered. "We can't afford to wait that long," he said. "Someone else is bound to get killed before then."

"Then our other option is to contract it out," Chandris said. "Get a private firm in to do the work."

"Can you do that?" Gyasi asked. "I thought Gabriel handled all huntership maintenance."

"Officially, it does," Chandris said. "As a practical matter, no one's going to complain if we do it

ourselves and save them the expense.""And how high is that expense likely to be?" Kosta asked.Chandris's mouth twitched. "High enough," she said."How high?""You let me worry about that." She waggled a finger at his equipment list. "You worry about how you're going to smuggle all this stuff out of here and aboard the Gazelle."Kosta frowned up at her, a sudden suspicion twisting his stomach. The High Senator's angel...She caught the look and sent back one of her own. "I said let me worry about it," she repeated, her tone warning him to drop it.

Gyasi cleared his throat. "I think I'll go to the lab and see what equipment Dr. Qhahenlo's got on hand," he said. Getting up from his chair, he escaped from the room.

"You can't steal Forsythe's angel," Kosta growled, swiveling around so that he could face Chandris

better.

"Why not?" Chandris retorted. "Is one angel worth more than however many people Angelma.s.s will kill in the next two months?"

"Of course not," Kosta ground out. "But if you get caught, the whole thing blows up and they die anyway." He hesitated. "And then you'll be in trouble, too."

Her lip twisted sardonically. "I didn't think you cared."

Kosta's first impulse was to turn away from her, to back off the way he always did. But for once, and to his own mild surprise, he stood his ground. "Of course I care," he said quietly. "I also care about Hanan and Ornina. They've put themselves on the line for both of us. We can't let them down."

Chandris drew herself up. "We won't," she said firmly. "How soon can you get that stuff together?"Kosta looked at the list again. "I don't know," he said. "A couple of days, maybe.""All right," Chandris said. "Let's call it three days. I'll have the Gazelle ready to fly by then."Kosta looked up at her again. "Be careful," he said."I will," she a.s.sured him. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."She waved toward the door. "Come on, let's go get the angel. I need to get started, and you probably need to walk me out."

They were waiting outside the main entrance for the line car Kosta had called before Chandris spoke again. "Something else occurs to me," she said, her face invisible behind her blowing hair. "You said

that the increased angel production might be accidental, a side effect of the radiation surges. You suppose it could also be deliberate?"

Kosta felt his throat tighten. "You mean as in Angelma.s.s figuring out that the more angels it spits

out, and the more anti-angels it absorbs, the smarter it gets?"She hunched her shoulders. "So you thought of that, too. That's not a good sign.""I know," Kosta agreed soberly. "Of course, it could just mean we're both wrong.""It could also mean we're both right," she said. "We'd better get the Gazelle flying, and fast."Kosta looked up at the stars blazing across the night sky overhead. "Yes," he said. "Let's."

The news report was a repeat, the third time today that this particular item had been shown. But

Trilling Vail didn't mind. He watched it anyway, fingers resting on the cool gla.s.s of the display, keeping the sound turned down low so as not to wake the sleeping girl in the bed behind him. The camera zoomed in on the ambulance, and the stretcher the medics were rolling toward it.

And there she was, standing with her arm clutched around a fat old woman as the stretcher rolled past. There she was, just as beautiful and fragile and helpless as ever.

Chandris.

Trilling pressed his fingers harder against the gla.s.s, hungrily drinking in the sight of her. He'd tracked her here to Seraph just fine; but then the trail had unexpectedly died away. No one he'd talked to had admitted working with her, or seeing her, or even hearing of her, no matter how hard he pressed them. One of the koshes had finally admitted he knew where she was, but after he was dead Trilling had found out he'd been lying, just to get him to stop. He hated when people did that to him.

But none of that mattered anymore. She was here. Half a planet away from where he'd ended up, but that was nothing. She was here, and he was here, and as soon as he could get transport over to Magasca they would be together again. And then they could stay here, or go back to Uhuru, or do whatever they wanted. They would be together again. It would be just like old times.

The news report ended, and he switched off the set. Quietly, stealthily, he moved through the darkness of the room, listening to the slow breathing of the sleeping girl as he collected his belongings together. It didn't take long; there wasn't much there, and anyway he could score whatever he needed along the way. The cash was a different matter, and he took all of that he could find, making sure not to forget to check the pockets of the girl's jeans hanging lopsidedly on the chair at the foot of the bed.

Finally, he was ready. He doubted any transports would be heading toward Magasca at this time of night, but it was a bit of a walk to the depot anyway, and he was eager to get started. Soon he and Chandris would be together again.

He zipped up his bag and stepped to the side of the bed. The girl was an amazingly sound sleeper, he realized, or else just couldn't hold her reeks very well. They hadn't been together long; it had only been about two weeks since he'd waltzed her off the streets and started teaching her the tricks of the trade. With her bright face and winning voice she had a lot of potential, and more than once he'd thought she would be worth hanging onto until he found Chandris.

But now that was over, of course. Setting down his bag, he leaned over the girl and got his hands around her throat.

She was a sound sleeper. She never even woke up before she died.

Trilling picked up his bag again and stepped to the door, feeling a twinge of regret. But he'd had no choice. He was a one-woman man, and Chandris was a one-man woman, and now that he'd found her there could never again be anyone between them. He'd had no choice.

Opening the door, not looking back, he headed out into the night.

CHAPTER 30.

"Scintara Catapult Control calling, Commodore," the comm officer reported. "They signal green."

"Acknowledged," Lleshi said. It was, he reflected, almost a straight reenactment of the situation they had been in a few months back. The same jump-off point, the same target, the same enemy.

Except that then the mission had been a quick penetration into enemy territory to drop off the false asteroid and, almost as an afterthought, to throw the young academic Jereko Kosta to the wolves.

This time, the Komitadji was going to war.

It was a difference that was heavily underscored by the four bright orange spheres ahead of him in the launch queue, each being shepherded gingerly by its tugs toward the undulating focal point of Scintara's catapult. The doomsday pods, each with multiple gigatons of explosive power hovering restlessly in the center of its magnetic bottle. "Target position check," he ordered.

The nav display flickered once and changed to a schematic of the Lorelei system, with each of the four Empyreal nets scattered throughout the asteroid belt represented by a flashing red point. The new Pax net flashed yellow, the machinery buried deep within the asteroid waiting patiently for the burst of light and radiation that would be its signal to activate.

For a moment Lleshi studied the flashing yellow light. Even after several months of drift, the newly created net was uncomfortably close to the net that Pod Three would be popping into the center of in a few minutes. If the doomsday blast was powerful enough to damage it, this whole operation would suddenly become extremely problematic. The Pax ships would still penetrate Lorelei system; but at that point there would be nothing to stop five systems' worth of EmDef forces from descending on them like a swarm of hornets. The Komitadji's task force wasn't set up for that kind of defensive action.

"Getting a little nervous, Commodore Lleshi?" Telthorst asked from his station. "Not quite as sure of this grand strategy of yours anymore, are we?"

"Prepare to launch Pod One," Lleshi ordered, ignoring him.

Telthorst apparently wasn't in an ignorable mood. "I asked you a question, Commodore," Telthorst said. His voice was still quiet, but there was the potential below it for more volume, the threat of taking the argument off the privacy of the balcony and down onto the full command deck. "In my experience, men who are sure of what they're doing don't keep checking everything over and over."

"In my experience, men who don't are fools," Lleshi said shortly. "SeTO?"

"All green, Commodore," Campbell confirmed. "Ship and crew at full battle stations."

"Commodore-"

"Mr. Telthorst, we are preparing for battle," Lleshi told him. "Either be quiet, or be removed to your quarters."

With a glare that could have flash-cooked raw meat, Telthorst swiveled back to his status boards. "Fleet status?" Lleshi called.

"The Balaniki and Macedonia have formed up on our aft flanks," the fleet operations officer said. "Support vessels are standing by in formation. All ships report green."

Lleshi nodded. Standard textbook attack procedure was to send a wave of fighters, blast ships, and mine-sweepers into a system ahead of the main war vessels, both to soften up the first wave of resistance and to have full tactical sensor data ready to download to the fleet commander when the flagship finally made its appearance.

But this was the Komitadji, and the Komitadji didn't hide behind support ships. Once the doomsday pods had done their job, they would be the first ship through.

A warning note trilled: the first pod was touching the catapult's focal ellipsoid, its tugs backing away from it with orderly haste. "Pod One ready," Campbell announced.

Lleshi nodded. "Scintara catapult, launch Pod One."

The pod flickered and was gone. "Move Pod Two into position," Lleshi ordered, glancing at the chronometer. "Ninety seconds."