A blue-black woman with eyes that glowed like yellow fire above a discreet breathing mask strolled across the lobby of the Crowndome. She wore a skintight sheath of garnet avrishum, a silver turban that completely covered her hair, and silver, elbow-length gloves. Shadith blinked as she glimpsed herself in one of the mirrored walls; she still hadn’t got used to the guise Digby’d thought up for her.
A little man with a yellowish, wrinkled pseudoskin mask left the shadows where he’d been standing and met her near one of the carved pillars of colored marble that were scattered about and connected to a complex play of arches as if they were really loadbearing instead of freeform art pieces. “Drina acMorah?”
“Jaskarah?”
“Yes. I have a shielded conference room reserved. If you’ll come?”
“Lead the way.”
Jaskarah tapped the seal on the door, walked to the table, and sat down. “You have a question for me?”
She frowned at him a moment, wondering if he already know what she wanted, knowing at the same time she had no leeway to ask him about that. “Do you know where Lylunda Elang was taken?”
He blinked at her and she could feel his surprise. Hunk! That answers that and makes me wonder why he doesn’t know. “I don’t know the name,” he said.
“Hm. Perhaps if I put it this way. A young woman was taken aboard a particular ship on Hutsarte by instructions from an official there. She was transferred to another place. I wish to know that place.”
“Ah. That’s different. Bol Mutiar in the Callidar Pseudo Cluster. An island called Chiouti. Is there anything further?”
“Can you give me more information about this Chiouti?”
“No.”
“Then I thank you for your help and would you prefer to leave first, or shall I?”
He stood, bowed, walked to the door, unsealed it, and left. It resealed behind him, a red light blinking on the monitor.
She waited till the red blink turned green, walked away from the room, her reach sweeping out to make sure the little man wasn’t hanging about, meaning to follow her until she removed the trappings of Drina-acMorah. Remembering the implicit warning in Digby’s message, she expected to find him out there, and he was, lingering in the shadow by one of the columns, his curiosity about her overlaid with a sense of need that disturbed her-more things she had to figure out about Digby. It wouldn’t surprise her much to learn that the faux-Jaskarah didn’t know who it was pulling the strings that got him here.
Not that I know either. Who can say what Digby did to get this.
Deacon’s rules were a lot looser than Marrat’s. There were no respectable folk here, no Gray Market with citizen types coming to buy. Murder was frowned on, though duels were common enough and killing in self-defense with even the faintest of justification rated a minor fine. Theft and the false report of theft were capital offenses, with trial by verification and the sentence carried out approximately twenty seconds after the verifier extruded its report. It was not a place for the gentle and the unaware. Which meant if she trapped and zapped the little man, no one would bother noticing. He had to know that, too, so it was going to be tricky. And, she reminded herself, I’ve got watch out or he does the same to me. Don’t get too sassy, Shadow. You aren’t the champeen wizard of the universe. Just think what Lee or Harskari-woulddo to you if the need arose. Or even Autumn Rose, if she took a notion.
She clicked her tongue, shook her head. I’m getting so used to deviousness, I forget the short way. All you have to do is get back to the ship intact, Shadow. The way Digby set things up, skinface can follow you till his feet rot and bribe the Deacon’s Guards for the ship’s Shriek and he won’t know more than he does now Keep it quick and easy and let’s get out of here.
Ten gelders bought her a ’bot escort out to the tie-down, the credit chip in Drina acMorah’s name paid her mooring fee, and a few minutes later she was
‘splitting for the Callidara. It meant another month of travel, but maybe this was the last of the zigs she’d have to zag.
10
Shadith dropped the Backhoe into orbit around Bol Mutiar and breathed a sigh of relief as she finally cut the umbilical to the Dragoi. She could leave the ship parked here, hand it over to Lylunda when she got the woman offworld.
She inspected the globe turning beneath her. There was very little about the world in the memory files on the ship and she didn’t want to alert Digby just yet.
An island named Chiouti.
She watched the parade of islands sliding past below her and swore with considerable fervor. No cities, just villages, one or two to an island depending on its size. No landmasses more than fifty miles on the longest axis. Almost all of the islands in a wide band about the equator, the rest of the world wind-churned ocean. She had no local maps, not a clue which of those humps of,dirt might be called Chiouti by the people who lived there. “Looks like I unship the lander and do the lucky dip and hope I don’t have to spend the next ten years at it.”
She put the small lander down on one of the larger islands, choosing, as landing site a barren spit where the weight and heat of the lander would do least damage. When you’re ’visiting someone else’s home to ask a favor, you don’t break the furniture or kick the cat. She crawled out, circled the lander, and was pleased to see she’d made a neat set-down. Then she started walking south along the beach toward the small village nestling at the back of a halfmoon bay, trying to ignore an uneasiness that tickled at her like flies walking down her back.
She had a feeling of something watching her, measuring her-not hostile yet, but a sense of lurking danger. She tried a sweep with her reach, but there was nothing alive nearby except a few bugs in the sparse grass and shellfish under the sand.
The first people who came running to meet her were children, brown, happy, unafraid, throwing words at her she couldn’t understand as yet, though the pain in her head meant the translator was working hard to remedy that.
“A droo eoeo a mei.”
“A mei erra blyek.”
“A mehil erra tiang.”
“Diak a woman?”
“In bail like that mno er el?
“I think yes, I think she has tuttas. And look at the way she meraii.” It was the oldest of the girls; she giggled and went strutting ahead of them, shaking her small behind. After a few steps she grinned over her shoulder. “Men don’t walk like that.”
“You might be surprised, young woman,” Shadith said. The words came slowly, but they came. The accent wasn’t quite right, but she could see from the startled look on the girl’s face that she understood the words well enough.
“Then you are a man?”
“No. You had that right.”
“You come to trade?”
“I came to find an island. Chiouti. Have you ever heard of a place with that name?
“Chiouti? I don’t think so. Too bad you missed the Berotongs when they came by last month on their beronta. They sail all round the world and know just about every place.”
Shadith stopped walking. When the girl turned and came back to her, she bowed, straightened. “Blessings on you, young woman. You have saved me much trouble and travel. I will do as you say and seek out a beronta of the Berotong Pandai.”
“But you must come and eat with us. We’ll have games and stories and a fine feast to celebrate your being here.”