“I believe Chinzro Hchchu is still studying that question,” Emikai said, looking a little uncomfortable. “A final ruling is expected soon. Until then, you must still appear at the hearing.”
“With my assistant,” I said firmly.
One of the Jumpsuits stirred. {Why do we waste time?} he demanded. {We’re many. He’s one. Bring him and be done with it.}
{I hear and obey,} Emikai said reluctantly. “Mr. Compton—”
“Tell you what,” I put in quickly. “If the big legal minds are still wrestling with this, it’s certainly nothing the two of us are going to solve on our own. Why don’t you call Minnario, clue him in on what’s happening, and get him to the hearing? Then he and Chinzro Hchchu can hash out together whether or not Bayta can watch the proceedings.”
“That seems reasonable,” Emikai said, a note of relief in his voice as he pulled out his comm. Clearly, the rapid pace of Hchchu’s brand of justice wasn’t sitting well with him, either.
{The Protocols don’t require this,} Jumpsuit insisted.
{Neither do they forbid it,} Emikai countered. He punched in a number and lifted the comm to his ear. {This is Logra Emikai,} he said. {I wish to speak with Attorney Minnario chu-DeHak.}
{This is wasted time,} Jumpsuit muttered.
I watched him out of the corner of my eye, hoping I wouldn’t have to use any of the combat techniques Emikai had taught me during our sparring sessions. At five-to-one odds, I wasn’t likely to last very long.
But I sure as hell wasn’t going to let them take me away and drop me into some dark hole somewhere where Bayta wouldn’t even know where to start looking for me. Not without a fight.
{Understood,} Emikai said.
I looked back at him. The grimness in his voice was mirrored in his face. “What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Chinzro Hchchu has been attempting to contact Attorney Minnario for nearly half an hour,” Emikai said. “There is no answer on his comm. Nor have any patrollers or operational personnel seen him during that time.
“Your attorney, Mr. Compton, has vanished.”
FOUR
The nearest security nexus was ten floors directly above the medical dome. We arrived to find a full-scale search operation already in progress.
{There continues to be no response from his comm,} a jumpsuited patroller standing by the door reported as Emikai escorted Bayta and me into the room and over to a bank of monitors that stretched all the way up one wall and angled onto part of the ceiling.
{Keep trying,} Emikai ordered. “He is still not answering his comm,” he translated for my benefit.
I nodded, looking over the monitors. About half the screens were cycling through visual images of important offices or key intersections, but most of the displays seemed to be readouts of environmental, power, or equipment usage. I spotted two different views of our Alpine medical dome go by in the rotation, one apparently from just above each of the two corridors leading into it. “Do you keep records of any of these images?” I asked.
“For one hour only,” Emikai said. “Under the Slisst Protocols, anything more is considered a violation of privacy.”
“That’s unfortunate,” I murmured. But probably very convenient for the Shonkla-raa as they scurried around on whatever nefarious schemes they were up to aboard the station. An excellent reason all by itself for Proteus’s directors to have adopted the Protocols. “I guess we’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way, then,” I continued. “We know Minnario was in the security station with me when our torchferry docked. We start by talking to everyone who was also there at that time, from Chinzro Hchchu on down, and try to track his movements.”
“That is already being done,” Emikai said, pointing to a display filled with Fili characters. “That is a list of those who have been spoken to, plus summaries of their testimonies to the patrollers. But it has already been over four hours since our arrival, and the trail has started to go dry. Many of the relevant personnel have dispersed to evening meals and quarters.”
“Unless the Human expert wishes to offer a better method?” a sarcastic voice suggested from behind me.
I turned. It was Usantra Wandek, working his way toward us through the crowd of Jumpsuits. His blaze was showing the same odd mottling I’d seen during our earlier conversation down in the medical dome. “Greetings, Usantra Wandek,” I said, nodding to him. “Did someone call for medical assistance?”
“The Nemut has a long list of medical problems,” he said grimly. “His disappearance strongly implies one or more of those problems may have intensified.” He cocked his head. “But my question was serious. Have you any better options to suggest?”
“Oh, please,” I scoffed. “If you’re going to set a trap, at least make it an interesting one. I was an Intelligence agent—of course I know about the locator transponders in most comms. I also know where they’re located, how they function, and how to disable them.” And, I didn’t add, routinely did so, dropping my comm and Bayta’s out of the system whenever we looked to be going into danger. “And since Minnario apparently hasn’t been located that way, I presume his locator was in fact disabled. Logra Emikai?”
“You are correct,” Emikai acknowledged.
“The more interesting question,” I went on, watching Wandek closely, “is whether Usantra Wandek is suggesting I might have done away with my own lawyer. What reason could I possibly have for doing such a thing?”
“Who knows how Humans think?” Wandek countered, the mottling of his blaze intensifying a bit. The effect was oddly hypnotic. “More importantly, there can be only a handful of individuals on the station who have the knowledge and skill to disable the transponder.”
“Really?” I looked at Emikai. “How many of the patrollers aboard Proteus have that skill?”
“I would guess between one and ten percent,” Emikai said. “I believe many communications techs would also possess the necessary knowledge.”
“There you go,” I said to Wandek. “Ten percent of the patrollers on a station this size means we’re talking hundreds or thousands of people. And that’s just the Filiaelians.”
“Do you accuse one of us?” Wandek demanded stiffly.
“I accuse everyone, and I accuse no one,” I said. “It’s no different than a doctor who suspects all illnesses until he’s narrowed down the list of possibilities.”
“Perhaps,” Wandek said reluctantly. “Just be certain that your list of possibilities include all aboard Kuzyatru Station, and not merely the Filiaelians.” He turned to Emikai. “I assume you are in charge of this investigation. How do you intend to proceed?”
I looked at Emikai in mild surprise. “You’re in charge here?”
“Chinzro Hchchu has assigned me to supervise all matters concerning you and your pending case,” Emikai explained. “Since Attorney Minnario is with you, his disappearance falls within my authority.”
“So what do we do?” I asked. “Because Usantra Wandek is correct: if Minnario’s lying injured off in some corner, his physical problems could make his situation critical.”
Emikai gave a whinnying sigh. “Unfortunately, the tools at our disposal are severely limited,” he said. “None of the monitors shows his location, we have no recordings of his movements, and so far no one interviewed remembers seeing him after his departure from the security office over two hours ago.”
“What about DNA sniffers?” I suggested. “Surely you still have the records from when he entered Proteus Station.”
“That has already been tried,” one of the Jumpsuits said in badly accented English. “There is insufficient remaining nucleic in the security station.”