Выбрать главу

"A watch." Dedran understood. "I see." His voice came slowly, thoughtfully. "No, they don't make a sound like that and one doesn't keep looking over and over to see the time usually. Either they had a deadline—or that was not a watch." He stood a moment and spoke to himself, not the listening girl. "And why Cregar? They knew his name, what did they want with him? Maybe tonight would be dangerous." He turned briskly.

"Laris, wait here, see to everything. I must make a comcall."

She looked after him as he hurried down the ramp. This was becoming dangerous for her and Prauo, as well as Dedran. If she jumped ship here the authorities would probably pick her up at once. Something made her feel that while the officials might have left, eyes were still on her and the ship. Dedran didn't return until the setting up was complete. Then he had only time to fling a hurried word at her as he passed.

"Be ready after midnight."

She nodded meekly.

The performance was well received, the audience in this backwater enjoyed the novelty and afterward the crowds on the midway were in a spending mood. Optional extras or not, the circus would make money here if they didn't overstay their welcome. To make sure however, the sideshows had been set up and already the holograms danced and coaxed passersby to enter the curiosity tents. In the game tents barkers called the wandering crowds to roll up and try their luck. It was a charming scene—if one didn't know, as Laris did, that all the games were carefully rigged, and most of the curiosity tent attractions were cunningly faked.

Prauo's mind voice came to her as she moved in the shadows. *You were right. Others watch. There is a ring about us.*

*Where is the nearest?*

*Walk toward the tigerbat cages slowly. Be casual. I will direct you. I cannot probe their minds but I can feel their attention like a light directed upon us.*

She obeyed, wandering as if checking on the circus animals. Yes, a watcher there, and another further along. A third near the ramp noting all who came and went from the ship. She stretched, allowed her shoulders to slump wearily. Then she plodded up the ramp. Once out of sight she trotted in search of Dedran.

"There're spies outside. They're watching everyone."

His face twisted in fear and fury as she spoke. Then he fought for calm. "Well done. But I must get out of here again for an hour or so. Let no one know I've left." He considered. "Go to the tent of Good Fortunes. Set it up so that it blocks the alley between beast cages. The carra have the end cage, do they not?"

"Yes." She saw his plan and grinned, a quick flicker of amusement.

"Well? Hurry, girl. Hurry!"

Laris did so, appearing back down the ramp minutes later with two of the men carrying a light tent and a large case. She'd done this before, usually to take messages for Dedran—the sort of message he didn't want others to know he was sending or receiving. Not that she was able to read them, of course. Dedran wasn't that silly. He trusted her more than most, which was to say, only a little.

She oversaw the setting up of the tent and dismissed the men. Then she vanished inside. Moving swiftly she unfolded the table, placed the crystal ball on the tabletop and laid out the cards. From a pocket in the case she retrieved a long brilliant robe, wig, face veil, and several other items. She donned the wig and clothing then moved to the door to place a sign at the entrance. It took little time before seekers after knowledge began to drift her way.

For several hours she told fortunes, amused the customers with her wit and insight. Three years back a real teller of fortunes had traveled with the circus. Shiira had an empathy rating and had been very good. In Laris she'd detected another who could read the emotions and hopes flung at a teller of fortunes. She'd liked the child and quietly, patiently, she'd taught Laris all the girl could learn. Shiira had left after a few months. Her abilities had warned her it was best to be gone, and she had listened. Fortunately she had said nothing of Laris's small talent to Dedran.

Almost a year later when Dedran had needed a back door Laris had suggested she become a fortune-teller. It had worked that time, and other times subsequently. Moreover it was a useful supplement to the circus income at leaner times. After all, Laris was a bond-servant and the money she made went into circus coffers. However, to Dedran she was merely a good talker giving the fools what they wished to hear. She talked on until midnight had come and gone. Then a man paced into the tent.

She knew the feeling of Dedran but he would not be pleased to know it. He'd donned the mask and the light, toe-to-throat coverall worn by members of the Casran sect, an offshoot of the main religion on Yohal. The watchers would still suspect. The disguise was too basic. Too obvious. She went into her routine and was hushed.

"Enough. It's Dedran. Now, do you have the things?"

She produced the items she'd laid aside ready. He stripped coverall and mask then settled the wig and overcoat into place. Quick strokes with plastiflesh stick, a lightening of his eyebrows, contacts slipped in, and he was a different man. It had taken only minutes and thus far she'd taken care to give each fortune seeker a good long fortune. The watchers, if any had concentrated on her, were already used to seeing those who entered stay for a length of time.

Dedran raised the rear of the tent, moved out unobtrusively, and hurried down the narrow alley between cages. Laris watched. He slipped through a panel at the back of the carra cage and would emerge unobtrusively on the other side. The watchers would start to wonder when he did not reappear but she'd dealt with that too. A short time later one of the women scratched at the tent back. Laris lifted the material. The woman walked in, donned mask and coverall, and left openly through the front of the tent.

Let the watchers see that, and not know the person they had seen enter Laris's tent was not the same person as had just departed. The sect's costume had been of use to Dedran before now—and had likely been useful as a disguise to many involved in both intrigues and other acts, Laris thought. The Casrans were an equal opportunity sect. To that end, while light, the coveralls were designed to hide any gender differences. One never knew if one spoke to male or female until the one addressed replied. Even then, most who'd belonged for any length of time had been trained to speak in a flat neutral voice which made it hard to tell male from female. Laris shared her thoughts with Prauo.

*A11 that is true, furless-sister. But what interests me more is Dedran's errand. And why those men sought Cregar.*

Laris told another fortune while mulling over those questions. She was interrupted by giggles outside. Someone speaking in accented one-speech was insisting that she be taken inside to learn her fate. The hair on the back of Laris's neck rose. She could feel danger here. The voice sounded like that of a young flighty girl, indulged, spoiled, and from some rich planetside family. But there were undertones only Laris, and through her, Prauo, could detect.

*Leave, sister, quickly. Go openly before they enter.*

Laris leapt for the tent entrance. All her instincts were shouting that she should not allow herself to be trapped inside where none could see. She was barely in time. Her slender body brushed past the girl who would have entered and the girl staggered sideways with a gasp. Laris caught only an impression of her. Apparently young, richly dressed—and with the most coldly vicious, experienced eyes Laris had ever seen.

The man with her matched well. If he wasn't heavily armed, then Laris was a carra. He appeared young and from some wealthy provincial family but his eyes too did not match the outward picture.

*Strip your veil,* Prauo sent. *Make them believe they are dealing with a child.*