The light came on inside Darya’s head. She had been set up for this. “You mean Quintus Bloom told you to come to the spaceport and find me?”
“Certainly not.” Kallik clucked in self-deprecating disapproval. “I did not say it clearly enough to you, but we have never met Quintus Bloom. J’merlia is referring to Captain Hans Rebka. He called and said that we were to protect you, and bring you back safely to Sentinel Gate.”
“Damn that man. He said to protect me? Well, screw him.”
“Indeed?” J’merlia inclined his head politely, and gestured a forelimb at the control board. “Do you wish to proceed farther toward the interior? Or would you rather we return to Sentinel Gate?”
“No! I’m not going back to that bloody planet. Let’s get out of here.”
J’merlia’s eyes rolled on their eyestalks. “With respect, but to where? I cannot navigate, unless I am given a destination.”
Darya leaned back in her chair. It was obvious what she had to do. Quintus Bloom would always have his ace in the hole, his private artifact — until Darya went there and examined it for herself.
“Find a set of Bose transitions to take us to Jerome’s World.” Darya silently cursed all men, but Hans Rebka and Quintus Bloom in particular. “We’re going to take a look at Labyrinth.”
Chapter Nine
In the light of Sentinel Gate’s brilliant morning sun, Louis Nenda stood chest-high amid a thicket of flowers that threw off a riot of sensuous and heady perfume. He sniffed deeply, wrinkled his nose in disgust, and spat on the ground.
He was stuck on this pansy world, and to get off it he was going to have to deal with one of his least favorite people. Nenda and Atvar H’sial had been over the situation again and again, and seen no alternative. Hans Rebka surely knew where Darya Lang had gone, although for his own reasons he was keeping it from them. So it was Nenda’s job to worm it out of him.
If only he were on a decent world, like Karelia, where things were done in a decent way. Then he could have got what he wanted out of Rebka immediately, by smashing his stupid face in to make him talk.
But standing and thinking of better places would get him nowhere. Nenda plowed through the flowers until he was at the entrance of the bungalow. He tried the door that he came to, and found it unlocked. He snorted. An invitation to burglary — but not right now. He banged on the door panel.
No one came.
Nenda went in, walking through the livingroom and following a smell that appealed to him a lot more than the scent of the flowers outside. He’d had no breakfast.
The kitchen of the house was clean, compact, and automated. Rebka wasn’t there; but someone else was.
Wrong house! Louis was all ready to mutter an apology and retreat when he recognized the occupant of the kitchen. It was the tall, decorative woman he had seen when he first arrived at the Institute. She was wearing a white robe, open at the top almost to her waist, and split at the bottom to show more leg than Louis had ever seen before on a woman who claimed to be dressed.
“Sorry,” he said. “My mistake. I’m looking for Hans Rebka. I thought this was where he’s staying.”
“It is. But he already left.”
She had obviously recognized him, though he couldn’t for the life of him remember her name. He glared around him, as though it might be written on one of the walls. “Do you know where he is?”
“I might. And I’m Glenna Omar, since you’ve obviously forgotten. You look like you want to leave, too. You’re all the same. I hate men who are all kiss and run. I hope you’re not like that. Here, help yourself.”
She waved to the table in front of her, which bore a big plate of steaming rolls and a pot of what smelled like hot tea.
It was the price of information. Louis gave up. He sat down opposite Glenna. Atvar H’sial would never believe this if she found out, but at least he’d get breakfast out of it.
Glenna leaned back and sighed. “There, that’s better. Now we can get to know each other. Although I already know you, sort of. When you said you were ‘Louis Nenda,’ yesterday, I couldn’t think where I’d heard your name before.”
Louis said nothing. For one thing, his mouth was crammed full of hot roll. For another, in his experience nothing good was likely to come from people who knew your name.
“And then I remembered.” Glenna leaned forward to show even more cleavage. “I work here at the Institute as an information system specialist, and I’d seen your name listed as one of the people who were with Professor Lang on one of her trips. She talked about you, too. Do you find her attractive?”
“Eh?” For Louis, with half his mind on food and the other half on Glenna’s chest, the sudden change of subject was too much.
“Darya Lang. I said, do you find her attractive?”
Atvar H’sial must have found a way to get Glenna to ask the Cecropian’s own questions. It was a trap. Louis shook his head.
“Nah. Not at all.”
“Good. But you know, I think she really likes men from other planets.” Glenna leaned forward farther. The view was impressive, and almost unobstructed. “Of course, it’s easy to see why. There’s a sort of mystery about you off-worlders; you don’t have a dull stay-at-home job like me, making you into a boring person… like me.”
She arched her brows, inviting dissent. Louis had her pegged now, and the knowledge helped to clear his brain. She was a collector. He had met the type before. The trick was to get the information he needed, without his head (or other important parts) finishing as trophies on the wall behind her bed.
He looked with deep and bogus sincerity into her eyes. “I guess that Darya really liked Hans Rebka. He’s seen a hundred different planets.”
“Probably.” Glenna smiled, the cat that got the cream. “But did he like her? Not all that much, if you ask me — and I have proof. It takes more than one person to make a relationship. There has to be mutual attraction. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Oh, absolutely. You bet. So Hans dumped her, did he? Good — I mean, good for him. I bet she was mad.”
“Livid. Said she was leaving him, and leaving Sentinel Gate, and she stormed out. But she likes off-planet men, I can tell that. You know, you’re an attractive man, too. I can’t help wondering, did Darya ever make a pass at you?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way. But some imagined there was something like that goin’ on.”
“And I’ll bet they were right.” Glenna turned her face away so that she could give Louis a coy sideways glance. “You’re that sort of man, I just know it. You have that certain look in your eye.”
Right. And I’m about a foot shorter than you, and a foot wider, and I’m all scarred and hairy, and I’m swaddled in clothes so tight that I can’t get out of them inside half an hour even when I want to. What sort of mismatch from hell does it take to put you off your stride? Louis tried a demure smile, which looked more like a hideous strangler’s grin. “You shouldn’t tempt a man like that, ma’am, not in the middle of the morning. It’s not fair. You know, I’ve got work to do.”
“So do I. Call me Glenna. What are you doing this evening?”
“Nothing much. But I had the impression that you and Hans Rebka…”
“Please!” A slim hand waved away the possibility. “We’re just friends.”
You mean he’s already hanging there in the collection. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Anyway, he’s getting ready to go somewhere, out of system.” Glenna pouted. She touched Louis’s arm, then slid her hand down toward his. “Maybe this evening, then, you and me?”