“What could they possibly gain by damaging the ambiance?” the factor asked in amazement. “Anyway, I’ve thought of that. There’s six guards in the house at all times. As thick as the walls are, they could hold out for days if there was trouble.”
Suterbilt’s driver settled back into his seat. He shifted his gaze between his principal, standing beside the van, and Niko Daun, seated in the saddle of the jitney with a vaguely positive expression.
“Precisely!” Vierziger said, leaving Suterbilt even more puzzled. “And what would you give to prevent the destruction of that valuable work of art, Master Suterbilt? Would you cancel the FDF’s contract?”
“Well, I wouldn’t—” the factor began.
“And more to the point,” Vierziger said, steamrollering the reply, “does Astra think you might do that? They’ve struck unexpectedly once, you remember. That success will encourage them to choose the next weak point.”
“There’s nothing weak about it!” Suterbilt insisted. “I have guards and—”
“And an alarm system, just as the L’Escorial warehouse had!” Vierziger snapped. “If you don’t mind, sir, why don’t we finish this discussion in place—at the threatened location. I can point out the problems to you as well as the steps we’ll take to solve them.”
“I wasn’t planning—”
Vierziger turned and gestured imperiously with the attaché case. “Specialist Daun!” he ordered. “Back up your cyclo, please. When the car pulls out of the drive you’ll be able to park in the garage and get in with us. I want you along.”
He looked at Suterbilt again. “That is all right, isn’t it?” he said. “I’m concerned that Astra sympathizers or even mere vandals will deface the vehicle if it’s not protected. Specialist Daun’s expertise is quite important for our assessment.”
Suterbilt swallowed. “Well, I—” he said. “Yes, of course, park your car in space twelve. I’ll drop you off here again when we’re done.”
He frowned. “This isn’t going to take very long, is it?”
“Tsk!” Vierziger said. “Ten minutes, fifteen at most. But if it’s not done, the damage could be irreparable.”
He slipped past Suterbilt and into the back of the van as though he’d been formally invited to do so. After a moment, Suterbilt sighed and got in beside the Frisian.
It would be simpler to carry out the inspection than to continue the discussion. Besides, Suterbilt got an uncomfortable feeling when he argued with the dapper stranger. It was as though he was eye to eye with a cobra, or perhaps a shark.
“Roger,” Coke said, looking over the counter at Pilar Ortega as he spoke into the pickup of his commo helmet. “One out.”
The artificial intelligence in the helmet disconnected the circuit at the word “out.”
Pilar glanced up with a smile that faded when she saw the set of Matthew Coke’s face. They’d spent long enough together during the time the Frisian had been on Cantilucca that she was beginning to read even expressions meant to be noncommittal.
“Bad news?” she asked. Her voice quivered on the second word. No one else was present in the passenger services building; Pilar had been in the process of shutting up for the evening.
Coke looked around, more to provide a moment to think than because he expected there would be anything to see. A freighter well across the field lifted in a rainbow of ionized atoms. Pilar had processed the two passengers, traveling salesmen in irrigation and cultivating machinery, through the boarding checks an hour before.
“Expected news,” Coke said. He met the woman’s eyes. “Bad news, yeah.”
He took a deep breath. “Pilar,” he said, “you’ve got to get off Cantilucca immediately. Pack a bag with enough clothes to wear, take any—”
She was staring at him in horror. Her right hand clasped the crucifix.
“—knickknacks that you absolutely have to have,” Coke continued, plowing forward even though the woman looked as if he’d started to disrobe in the middle of the office. “You can go anywhere, except not Delos, and you’ve got to—”
“Matthew! Stop this!” Pilar said.
“—go now,” Coke blurted. “Pilar, please, I don’t want to say this—”
“Stop, Matthew!” she cried.
The rainbow curtain of light lifted rapidly. It raced across the terrazzo floor as the freighter climbed vertically from the port.
The deep thrum of the starship’s engines made the prefabricated building shudder with familiar vibrations.
Coke leaned across the counter. He hugged Pilar tightly to him so that he couldn’t look at her face.
“Pilar,” he said quickly, crisply. “Terry, your husband Terry, has screwed up really badly. He’s done something that’ll cost the Delos cartel millions of pesos, maybe tens of millions. When they investigate they’ll spot him, just as my people did. They’ll kill him and everybody close to him as slowly as they can make it happen. You’ve got to get out of the way now, before it happens.”
He thought that Pilar would push him away, though they’d held each other past evenings in the privacy of her suite. Instead she pressed her hands against his shoulder blades. “Matthew,” she said, “why are you saying this?”
“I’ll give you money, money’s not a problem,” he said. “Time is a problem. If you’re still around when the cartel comes looking, I don’t know what, what your chances’ll be no matter how I try.”
“Please,” Pilar said in a subdued tone. She straightened against his pull. He let her go.
“Matthew,” she said. “Even if what you say is true, I can’t abandon Terry. You know—”
“Pilar, he’s abandoned you!” Coke shouted. “He hasn’t been home to sleep for a week! Three days ago he picked up some of his clothes while you were—”
“Matthew! How did you know that?”
“While you were at work, curse it, and I know it because I’m having him watched, that’s how I bloody know it!”
She turned her back. Her shoulders hunched over her sobs. “You don’t understand,” she cried. “What Terry does is between him and the Lord. I won’t abandon him.”
Coke threw open the gate in the counter and stepped inside. Pilar flinched away, but he grabbed her by the upper arms. “All right, Pilar,” he said. “You won’t go without your husband, so let’s get him.”
She didn’t resist as the Frisian walked her toward the side door where the van was parked. The door opened ahead of them. A Marvelan, one of the clerks from the office next door, stuck his head in. “Hey, Pilar,” he said. “Tomorrow will you cover for—”
He finally noticed Coke and Ortega in an apparent embrace. “Oh,” he concluded.
Coke cleared the Marvelan out of their way by pointing a finger like a lance tip. “Go do your own job for a change!” the Frisian shouted. “Pretend you’re good for something!”
He handed Pilar into the van and stepped around to the driver’s side. The key was already in his pocket. He’d driven the pair of them ever since the first night he escorted Pilar home.
The freighter had vanished into orbit, preparatory to entering Transit space. The two moons were chips on the eastern horizon.
“Where are we going, Matthew?” the woman asked softly.
“I told you,” he said. The diesel spun thirty seconds before it caught. He’d meant to have Sten’s mechanic friend work the cursed thing over, but he didn’t suppose it mattered any longer. “We’re going to get your husband and I’ll put both of you on the next ship out of here.”
He revved the engine to keep it well above its lumpy idle while he dropped the transmission into gear. The van lurched forward. Only when they were twenty meters along the driveway did Coke add the load of the headlight to his demands on the stumbling engine.