I carefully put down my dox. "We're here, Tara. You asked for my help, and you've got it. So what's the problem?"
"You say the Legion wouldn't help you?" Dragon cut in. It was a troubling concept.
"No, they wouldn't," Tara confirmed. "Tell me…are you here officially or unofficially?"
"I'm here as your friend," I said. "Unofficially. And Dragon and Priestess as well. We're on sick leave—officially."
"And you won't be prepping any reports on this when you return?"
"No—we won't."
Tara looked out to the swimming pool again. Her eyes were misting over. She licked her lips once, pale pink tongue. My heart gave me a jolt. I sure didn't need that.
"You realize…" she said, "that I wouldn't have called you half way across the galaxy if this was an easy matter to resolve."
"We realize that," I replied.
Her eyes came back to me. Magical, swirling dark eyes, worlds of mystery, a hot typhoon of rain. A whirlpool, sucking me right in. "What are you prepared to do," she asked, "to help me?"
I glanced over to Dragon, then to Priestess. "We'll do anything you want," I replied. It was only the truth—we owed her our lives. I picked up my dox and took a sip. Good dox. The preliminaries were over. Now we would find out what this was all about. And how many laws we'd have to break.
Tara raised her chin, and long silky hair swirled around her shoulders. The fire was back in her eyes. The transformation was visible. Tara was back in command. She reached down and touched a datacard. A vision appeared to one side of our table, a holo of a slim pale girl, life-sized, dressed in elektra violet, shimmering in a field of light. Wispy short blonde hair, watery blue eyes—I recognized her. It was Tara's assistant, the P.S. Maiden's exec.
"Maralee Whitney," Tara confirmed, "my exec, has been with me several years." Her voice was clear and steady. "It seems more like twenty years, but it's only been about three. Whit has always been something of an idealist—she truly believes that money can buy happiness, and she's devoted her young life to achieving that goal by acquiring as much wealth as she can, as quickly as possible. It's her major weakness. I should probably explain, first, that Whit does not know about the Legion connection—and we have to keep it that way. To her I'm Cintana Tamaling, phenomenally successful slaver and galactic criminal, wanted by every law enforcement agency around for crimes against humanity, but protected by the System itself as a useful source of slaves and funds. Secondly, I should explain that, although our relationship is strictly super-sub, the two of us have been through a lot in those three years." Tara paused, and reached down to touch the datacard again. The holo disappeared in a flash of light. I could see the old Tara coming back, rushing over her like an aura of the past, the mouth setting, the color draining from her face, the eyes burning with cold rage—this was the Tara I remembered. When she spoke she was in complete control. "My reasons are not important. I'm going to help her. I'm going to do everything in my power to help her." Her gaze flashed over to mine. "I'm glad you came, Wester! And your friends—yes, we'll need them. I want my exec back. And you're going to get her back for me!"
"Where is she?" I asked.
"She's on Katag," Tara responded. "Katag Two—a System world. Not a very pleasant place, I'm afraid. Very much a Systie outpost. And very much a garrison world. I'll tell you all you need to know about Katag Two. Whit went there, and disappeared. The deal evidently went bad. She was on her own, trying to open up a black infolink in cooperation with some local crims. I had advised her not to go, because we have some real problems with the authorities on Katag. But one successful infolink can set you up for life. She was determined to do it.
"I never should have let her go—I should have seen it. It was stupid. The authorities have a tremendous financial interest in controlling all infolinks, so it was a dangerous business. We already knew the locals were difficult to deal with on Katag, and it was certain they had us on a watchlist. We had run into trouble there before, you see. That's why I can't go anywhere near the Katag system. That's why I can't handle this myself." Tara's voice was hushed, almost a whisper, her eyes unfocused. It was almost as if she was talking to herself. I leaned forward to catch every word.
"She knew it was risky, going there. She went by commercial freighter. I set up good docs for her, even though I didn't approve of the trip. She went in alias as a regional inspector for a Systie microtech firm that had an office there. Mitomass—they owed me. It was not hard to arrange. And, although Mitomass was not into infolinks, it would explain any contacts Whit might have with the seedier elements of Katag's business community."
"How about the genetic ID?" Priestess asked.
"That was the weak link. She had excellent docs, but if they wanted to do a full genetic ID scan, the genetics on the docs would not match, and her real ID would be revealed. We were hoping it would never come to that. If the story held, there was no reason it should."
"Sounds like you went to a lot of trouble," Dragon remarked, "for a mission you had not approved."
Tara paused for a moment, then looked up out the window to the golden haze of the morning. "Yes…I suppose I did. I told her it was stupid, but I did all I could to make it work. It didn't."
"So what happened?" I asked.
"She never came back. Entry was all right at the port, and she checked into the hotel. She spent a few days at Mitomass, and did the inspection. Everything seems to have gone all right there. Then she disappeared."
"Just disappeared?"
"My Mitomass contact freaked when I told him his inspector had run into trouble. However, I did prevail upon him to make an official inquiry about his missing employee. It would have looked bad had he not done so. It resulted in the recovery of the personal effects she'd left in the hotel—nothing else. The authorities claimed to know nothing."
"Have you got the effects?"
"Sure, you can look them over, but there's nothing there to help us. Now, my problem is I've got nobody on the ground there to investigate this matter. It's a real mine-field. Highly illegal activity, big money, dangerous and desperate criminal gangs, a hostile government, and a girl who is wanted by both the Legion and the System for a host of illegal activities."
"And the Legion won't help you."
"No. She was engaged in illegal activity, there's a war on—they had plenty of reasons. They won't help."
"What was the original trouble the two of you had with Katag?"
Tara smiled. Lord, she had a dazzling smile—sparkling eyes, pale brown face and phospho white teeth. A clock chimed softly on the wall. It was still and peaceful. "The trouble with Katag," Tara said. "Yes, we were young and foolish in those days. We were running slaves—Katag was a source of supply. They had just had a war and the losers were locked up and available. It enabled them to pretty much empty their prisons and make big money as well. Well, the Minister of Law—a nasty little bureaucrat called Fornos Cabra-Marist—decided, at the last moment, that he wanted twice as much as had been earlier agreed. Of course, we should have simply paid. But he was a despicable little bugger who dealt with us as if we were dirty. So I simply informed the governor of the attempt. Got the little rat in a bad sit, I'm sure, because the governor was making plenty on the deal and didn't want trouble. The only problem is that things change from time to time. Cit Fornos Cabra-Marist is the new governor. You have to expect things like that, which is why you should simply shut down and pay. But we were rolling in those days. We were impatient, invincible, and greedy."