"Okay, screw it. Yes, I'm following Templeton. But all I know-and I'm still guessing about that-is that he and his crew are headed for the shuttle grounds. I've been assuming they're most likely heading for their own ship. Why would religious fanatics be heading for a place like The Wages of Sin?"
An obvious possibility occurred to her. "Oh, Christ. You don't think-"
"No, I don't. Indiscriminate terrorism against random sinners isn't Templeton's style. He's looking for a specific target."
"Who?"
"You know anything about the Manticoran royal family?"
Dumbfounded, Thandi stared out the window. They'd left the limits of Maytag, and the Erewhonese countryside was rushing past them below. Traveling as low as jitneys were required to by law, the landscape was a blur. So was her mind.
"Not much. It's a constitutional monarchy, and the current Queen is an Elizabeth, of one number or another." Like most Solarians, Thandi tended to be oblivious to the political curlicues of the galaxy's multitude of miniature star nations. Only a specialist would try to keep track of such minutia as the royal family of a "star kingdom" with no more than a handful of planets. There were well over two thousand star systems in the Solarian League, counting the hundreds who were effectively under SL dominion in the Protectorates.
Then, suddenly, she remembered the broadcast recording she'd watched a few days earlier. Anton Zilwicki and a certain-
"Are you talking about 'Princess Ruth'? What the hell would she mean to Templeton?"
"She's his sister. Half-sister, rather. And by his lights, a renegade and a traitor and a whore. And she and her companions-Anton Zilwicki's daughter and Professor Du Havel-just left for The Wages of Sin last night. Shortly after Zilwicki himself left Erewhon for parts unknown."
"Oh. Shit."
" 'Oh, shit' is right. As in: it's all about to hit the circulation system. I'll see you there, Thandi."
"What are you going to be doing?"
"Playing it by ear, of course. What else? But this is a lucky break, I can smell it."
He broke off the connection. Thandi sniffed. She couldn't smell anything, herself, beyond the scent of old upholstery kept freshly scrubbed by Erewhon's fanatically strict sanitation codes.
"Oh, great," she grumbled. "I'm about to get caught in a three-way shoot-out with a bunch of lunatics and the galaxy's number one Junior Superspy. All of it under the nose of gangsters-cum-saints, who've got the zeal of converts when it comes to lawbreaking."
She flipped the mikes back on. "Out of idle curiosity, do you have a death penalty here on Erewhon?"
The cabbie gave her a very aggrieved look. "Of course not, lady! Erewhon's a civilized planet, y'know."
She started to relax. Not much, though, as the cabbie expanded on the theme.
"Worst you can get is life without parole. In solitary confinement. For really nasty cases they tack on 'sensory deprivation,' too. That means your cell is maybe two meters by three meters, with no windows, and the only exercise you get is in a stimulation tank."
He was apparently an enthusiast on the subject. "Yup. No sunlight for your top felons. We don't go easy on criminals here on Erewhon, you betcha. Not one single day, for the rest of their stinking existence. Live like vampires. Not only that-"
Chapter 20
In the plush rear seat of her private runabout as it left atmosphere Naomi turned toward Victor, sitting next to her. He could see the earbug which she'd been using to talk to Walter Imbesi.
"My uncle wants to know if you think he should meet us once we arrive."
"In public?" Victor shook his head. "That'll run the risk of wrecking his plausible deniability. So I'd advise against it-unless he wants to bring Erewhon security down on Templeton and his crew, before they make their move. Which-"
Victor shrugged. "It's his decision, of course, but I'd strongly urge him to let things unfold some more. If we stop Templeton before he strikes, we lose most of our political leverage. But if we don't, and people find out Walter Imbesi could have stopped Templeton before then-but didn't-there'll be all hell to pay."
Naomi nodded and began muttering under her breath, in the easy manner of someone accustomed to using hidden throat mikes. Then she fell silent, listening to whatever her uncle was saying.
She glanced at Victor. "Walter says that could get very rough on the girls."
Victor could feel his face tighten. He could also, out of the corner of his eye, see the little frown on Ginny's face. She was sitting on the seat across from them, looking out the viewport at the receding surface of Erewhon. From this distance-they'd just about reached the orbit of The Wages of Sin-the planet was a gorgeous blue-and-white ball. The sight didn't seem to be pleasing Ginny, though.
"I realize that," he replied. "But I'm not in the business of rescuing Zilwicki's daughters and Manticoran royalty. If we can manage it, I'll certainly do my best to protect them. But…"
Ginny's frown was deepening. Victor's face tightened still further. "Look, it's your uncle's decision. But the best way to handle this, from a purely political viewpoint, is not to worry about collateral damage."
Again, Naomi nodded and began speaking to Imbesi.
" 'Collateral damage,' " Victor heard Ginny muttering. "I hate that damn phrase."
Victor tried to figure out something to say, but Ginny just waved a hand without looking at him. "Never mind, Victor. I understand, and I'm not faulting you. I just don't like it, that's all."
Neither do I. The faces of the two young women he'd met at the Stein funeral floated into his mind. Damn Zilwicki, anyway. Does he always wind up losing his daughters? I just hope this one's as tough as the other one. I'll do what I can, but…
That wouldn't be much, being realistic about it. Victor was throwing this operation together as he went along. Zilwicki's frigate was by now well into hyper-space on its way to Maya Sector. Along with him had gone most of the Ballroom that Victor had any contact with beyond Donald, who'd stayed behind on Erewhon after faking an illness, and seven others. Victor had been moving so fast that Donald and the three men with him were scrambling to catch a shuttle to The Wages of Sin using public transportation. Which meant that unless Victor or Imbesi notified the resort's own security force, Templeton would have to be handled by Victor, a few Ballroom members, and Thandi and her unit-who were outnumbered something like three-to-one.
So be it. Zilwicki's daughter and Princess Ruth would either be protected by their escort from the Queen's Own Regiment, or they wouldn't. Presumably, the Manticoran soldiers who'd been selected for this detail were proficient in close quarter combat. And Victor was sure that the Erewhonese had allowed them to retain their sidearms, waiving the usual draconian security measures protecting The Wages of Sin.
That wouldn't be true for anyone else involved. The space station's security scannerswere reputed to be as good as any in the galaxy. Like Victor and his people, Thandi and her team would have left their weapons behind; they weren't even going to try to smuggle arms into the space station. Neither would Templeton, unless he was a lot less expert than Victor thought he was. The Masadan zealots had not managed to evade Manticore's efforts to catch them for years by being ignorant or overconfident about modern security measures.
Sooner or later, of course-and probably very quickly-Templeton would be obtaining weapons from overwhelmed security guards. But those would be light-powered side arms, not the kind of powerful weapons which could wreak general havoc in a firefight on a space station. Even caught by surprise, the princess' guards should have a good chance to get the girls somewhere to safety.