Something sharp bit his cheek. Chen-Mai flinched, turned his face toward the arched ceiling of the tunnel. He heard the sharp pop and ping of compressed rock splintering, and then a long, loud roar as the mountain began to tear itself apart.
High above, the shock waves from the neutron star coupled with those from the brown star, and rolled over the fourth planet. In a few seconds, the landscape was flattened, the mountains collapsing in, falling toward the planet’s dead core.
And, deep underground, the rock groaned, opened beneath Chen-Mai’s feet. Screaming, he tumbled into the abyss.
And on to the fifth planet.
And, finally, into empty space.
Chapter 36
“I can’t imagine what you expect of me,” said Mahfouz Qadir, in an oily tenor. He tweezed a tiny porcelain cup rimmed with gold from an equally fragile saucer and took a delicate sip of strong, sweet coffee. “You can’t expect that I keep track of every nursemaid, housemaid, and slut on Farius Prime.”
Halak’s swarthy features darkened with a rush of angry blood. “Dalal isn’t a slut, Qadir, and you know it. Now Dalal and Arava are gone, and I want to know where they are.”
“Or what?” Qadir replaced his cup upon its saucer with a soft click of china against china. He squared the saucer on a low carved wood table inlaid with a mosaic of jewels before inclining his head up at Halak who towered over him. “Supposing that I knew and was unwilling to tell you, then what? Eh? Are you threatening me, Samir? You,” Qadir’s bright, black eyes flicked right, “and this pretty Starfleet?”
Oh, brother,thought Garrett. “You could say that.” She folded her arms across her chest. “About Starfleet, that is. Pretty, I couldn’t care less. This isn’t an official visit, though.”
“No? Then those uniforms, they don’t mean anything? The fact that your starship, bristling with armament, is parked in orbit, its weapons trained upon my home, this means nothing? You bring weapons to my house, weapons I must confiscate to ensure my safety, and then you make demands, and this is not official, not a threat from Starfleet? How am I to take this then? How would you, a reasonable woman, take this?”
Garrett wasn’t in the mood. “Don’t count on my being very reasonable. Frankly, you can take it any way you like, but the fact remains that one of your operatives posed as a Starfleet Intelligence officer, kidnapped my first officer, and endangered the lives of my crew. And you’re right; you’re damned lucky I don’t order my ship to vaporize this house of yours. Don’t think I’m not tempted.”
“You see?” Qadir slapped a palm against his thigh. “Threats. Where are your manners, Captain? You make wild accusations and demand information.” Qadir took up a silver tray of sweets and sugared dates that sat beside his coffee cup. “Captain, be reasonable,” he said, stirring pastries with one finger then plucking up a triangular date-filled pastry scented with rosewater. “I’m a businessman. Try to understand from my point of view. The first rule of business is quite simple. Nothing is free.” He popped the mamoul into his mouth and chewed with an air of supreme satisfaction. “Everything is for profit,” he said, around sweet date filling. “So I ask you: What do you offer in return?”
Ah. Garrett thought they’d get to it eventually. What was she willing to trade? “Information,” she said. “Pure and simple.”
Still chewing, Qadir replaced the tray of cakes. Swallowed. “What sort of information?”
“The Orion Syndicate.” She caught the flash of excitement in Qadir’s eyes and knew she had his attention.
“What of them?”
Garrett gave a faint smile, and she lifted a finger in admonishment. “No, no. This is the way it will go. Youanswer questions first. Then Igive youinformation. Take it or leave it.”
“Hmmm.” Qadir considered. “What if I leave it?”
“Then I’ll make sure Starfleet sends patrols through this part of space on a regular basis. Be bad for business, all those official-looking ships out there.”
“They have no jurisdiction. They have no, what do you call it? Probable cause.”
“No one’s talking about a search. This is out-and-out harassment.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Sure we can. It’s free space, right? You’re not Federation, thank God, so who are you going to complain to? So, do we have a deal?”
Qadir settled back upon his pillows and considered. A wise move, Garrett thought, because the man had a lot to lose. Mahfouz Qadir’s house, with its grilled screened windows and lush tapestries and thick marble walls, was located on a black basalt promontory that jutted out into the Galldean Sea. Qadir’s riyad—his garden where they were now—was tucked in an open courtyard that was shaded by orange, cypress, and lemon trees. In the center, squatting beneath the shade of a vaulted Earth-style Moroccan gazebo, was a low divan of green silk with a carved bloodwood frame so dark it was almost black, and on the divan, tucked amongst pillows of gold and iridescent peacock blue, sprawled Mahfouz Qadir.
He was not, Garrett had decided, an attractive man. His skin was sallow, and he had too much flesh on a frame that was much too small. She thought it likely that the man hadn’t seen his own feet for over a decade. His face was very round, with jowls that substituted for a neck, and his lips were small, with a pronounced cupid’s bow. But if he had the face of fat cherub, his eyes were those of a Donoor rat: like shiny black marbles.
Those eyes gave her a shrewd look. “Very well,” Qadir announced. “I accept. But I want a retainer. How else am I to judge that my information is worth the price?”
“All right. Two words.” She held up first one finger, then a second. “Talma Pren.”
Qadir’s rat’s eyes narrowed. “Done.”
“Where’s Dalal?” Halak said.
Qadir steepled his pudgy fingers together. “As I said, I am not responsible for every woman on the planet, but,” he held up a hand, palm out, as Halak took a step forward, “it so happens that I do know of a case very similar to what you have described. I am afraid, however, that the woman in question is dead.”
Halak’s voice came as an astonished whisper. “Dead?”
“Yes. It appears that someone broke into her home and murdered her. The apartment was ransacked, some valuables taken, the perpetrators not apprehended,” he waved a hand, and his jeweled rings sparkled, “and that is all.”
For a moment, Halak didn’t move. Then he started forward. “That’s all? That’s all?”
“Commander!” Garrett put a restraining hand on Halak’s arm. Halak’s arm was stiff and rigid as iron beneath her hand, but she felt him tremble, and she heard the harsh rasp of his breath. “Back down, mister.”
Halak gave her a quick nod then looked back at Qadir. Hatred blazed in his eyes. “What about Arava?” Halak asked, his voice thick with emotion. “Where is Arava? Where is Klar? Are they dead, too?”
Qadir, who hadn’t flinched a muscle during all of this, gazed up with an expression of calm serenity. “No. They’re safe.”
“I don’t believe you. I can’t find them.”
“I said they were safe. I did not say that they were easily located.”
“Where are they?”
Qadir inhaled deeply, sighed. In the silence, Garrett heard the lazy drone of a fly.
“A question,” said Qadir and then, in a quick aside to Garrett, “Just one.”
Garrett gave a miniscule nod. Qadir trained his gaze on Halak. “If I tell you, what will you do?”
“I take her as far away from here as I can, as quickly as I can.”
“And she does not come back, correct?” Qadir zeroed in on Halak. “More importantly, youdo not return, yes?”
“Not in a million years.”
“You relinquish all claims?”