“Must be some favor,” Lakbulbup said. “If you’re thinking about running away from home and enlisting in the Expansionary Defense Fleet, forget it. We have some standards, you know. Anyway, after seventeen years of marriage, there can’t be much fight left in you.”
“You might be surprised,” Lakphro said, rolling his eyes. Lakbulbup’s attempts at humor were legendary at family get-togethers. “Listen, I have a piece of jewelry an alien gave me. I need to know—”
“An alien? Who?”
“They’re called Agbui, but I doubt you’ve ever heard of them,” Lakphro said. “This particular group says they’re cultural nomads traveling the Chaos looking for new cultures and insights and some such.”
“Sounds like a mass wandering year.”
“Could be,” Lakphro said. “Maybe Agbui do wandering decades. No idea. The point is that they gave my wife and daughter fancy brooches they’d made out of thin metal wires. Sort of as an apology for—well, that doesn’t matter.”
“What kind of metal is it?”
“I don’t know,” Lakphro said, fishing Lakris’s brooch out of his pocket and peering at it. “There are four different types: gold, silver, red, and blue. The point is that when I showed Lakansu’s to the senior aide to our local Xodlak Councilor, she snatched it right out of my hand, ordered me not to tell anyone about it or let my family tell anyone about it, and then left with it in her pocket.”
“Interesting,” Lakbulbup said, his earlier annoyance at the hour of the call fading away. If there was one thing the man liked, it was a good puzzle. “I don’t suppose you have a way of testing for radioactivity?”
“Actually, I do,” Lakphro said, “and no, it’s not. It’s also not magnetic or prismatic or microwave-responsive. It’s also not particularly heavy.”
“That cuts out a lot of the exotics, anyway. Have you tried running a current through it?”
“I’m afraid to,” Lakphro admitted. “I’ve already lost Lakansu’s. If I fry Lakris’s, I’m going to be in very serious trouble here.”
“Sounds like you’re already in serious trouble,” Lakbulbup said. “Or don’t I count as one of the people you’re not supposed to talk to about this?”
“I know,” Lakphro said with a sigh. “But it’s driving me crazy, and I had to talk to someone. I’ve looked at this thing until I was cross-eyed, and I can’t figure out why Lakjiip went completely airborne when she saw it.”
“Who can tell with politicians?” Lakbulbup said. “I presume you didn’t call just to get this off your chest.”
Lakphro braced himself. “I want to send it to you,” he said. “Your wife’s a scientist, and she knows other scientists. Maybe she can get someone to run tests that I can’t and see things I can’t.”
“You do know her lab is biological, right?” Lakbulbup reminded him. “What you need is someone in metallurgy, or maybe just a professional jeweler.”
“Which I hoped Dilpram could find for me. Can she?”
“Probably,” Lakbulbup said. “But I’m wondering why you’re sending it halfway across the Ascendancy when there are a thousand people on Celwis who could do the same job.”
“A thousand people who might happen to bump into Councilor Lakuviv or his aide?”
“What, do people just casually bump into family officials on Celwis?”
“Redhill’s a folksy province, and Lakuviv’s angling for higher office,” Lakphro said. “And all it would take is one.”
“I suppose.” Lakbulbup’s sigh was audible over the comm. “Okay. I’ll ask her to make a list of people who might be interested. How soon can you get it to me?”
“I can send it out tomorrow morning,” Lakphro said. “Later this morning, rather. If I ship it standard parcel, the schedule says it should reach Naporar in six to eight days.”
“Or you could send it express.”
“Have you checked those rates lately?”
“Point,” Lakbulbup conceded. “Okay, go ahead and toss it in the mail. While I’m waiting for it to get here, I’ll talk to a few people. Discreetly, of course.”
“Thanks, Lakbulbup,” Lakphro said. “And make sure they know they have to be discreet, too.”
“I’ll only approach the ones I know I can trust,” Lakbulbup promised. “Actually, the whole thing’s starting to sound quite intriguing. Very shifty-eyes-and-dark-shadows and all.”
“You’ve been watching too many dramas.”
“Excuse me; I’ve been watching too many?” Lakbulbup countered drily. “I’m not the one shipping contraband jewelry across the Ascendancy in the dead of night.”
“Whatever,” Lakphro said. “Thanks, Lakbulbup. I owe you one.”
“No problem,” Lakbulbup said. “Say hi to Lakansu and Lakris for me. Well, when you can say hi. I assume we’re also not talking about this conversation?”
“Not for the moment, no,” Lakphro said. “Thanks again, and I’m sorry I woke you.”
“Oh, I wasn’t asleep,” Lakbulbup said innocently. “But there’s nothing like an early-morning grouse to set the proper mood for the day. Anyway, I had to let the growzer out. Talk to you later, cousin.”
“You too.”
For a long minute after Lakphro clicked off the comm, he sat at his desk, cupping Lakris’s brooch in his palm. It still wasn’t too late to give the jewelry back to his daughter, he knew. He could make up some story about how she must have dropped it in the feedlot, and how he’d found it. Then he could go back to being a rancher and forget the whole thing.
But he couldn’t. Lakjiip had stolen his wife’s brooch, and Lakphro was going to find out why. Whatever it cost him, he was going to find out why.
As a Pathfinder, one of the gifted few who could achieve the trance state that allowed the Great Presence to guide him through the tortured and ever-changing paths of hyperspace, Qilori of Uandualon had spent most of his life in ships or in navigator concourses. He’d seen planets from afar, and actually landed on a number of them, but they’d never felt like home.
Still, as the Chiss pilot flew the Xodlak patrol ship inward, staying behind and to the side of the Agbui freighter it had been escorting, Qilori could see how people who liked nature and planetary life might be impressed by the place.
Wide-open vistas dotted with sparkling blue lakes and rivers. Forest and grassland, rugged mountains, and only occasional swaths of desert. No cities, no construction, untouched by war or pestilence or civilization. Just woodland creatures, and peace and quiet.
Until, of course, those same woodland creatures decided they didn’t want anyone disturbing their land. At that point, any would-be colonists had better hope they were armed.
All in all, Qilori preferred the more ordered life of space.
“Did I hear the Agbui captain call the planet Hoxim?” a voice came from behind him.
Qilori turned, feeling his cheek winglets press flat against his skin. He’d navigated his fair share of Chiss ships, mostly diplomatic vessels but also occasional merchants who needed to get across the Chaos in a hurry and didn’t mind paying the price for a good navigator. Never in all of those missions had he met a single blueskin with even a shred of humor.
But this one, this Senior Aide Lakjiip, was in a class by herself. Her expression seemed to be set in a permanently intense half scowl, her questions were clipped and precise, and he never saw her interact with any of the other Chiss aboard unless she was giving orders or asking for information.