SIX

The head of the Rajah’s Security Unit was a massive, swarthy man, two meters tall and maybe 130 kilos; he had a thick, black beard but a shaved head, and he looked as if he could chew nails and piss needles. His curved knife had a plain, well-worn grip-scales, and the sidearm he wore was a massive, gray-handled thing in a beat-up leather holster. No silks, he was in a blue flexsuit and traction boots.

Nothing ceremonial here; this was a man who used his weapons a lot and was geared to move in a hurry.

Wink wondered if his pulse wand would even slow the giant down if he decided to give him grief. Be interesting to find out…

The security man, introduced as Ganesh, stood at the head of a long, oval table made of wood with a beautiful, close-grained flame pattern in it, light against dark.

Behind him on the wall, a hologram flowered, and Ganesh nodded at the recording.

Cool air flowed over them, a welcome relief to the heat outside. Wink had never liked hard tropics. Give him a temperate world with mountains and a lot of liquid water, that was his kind of planet. Deserts and jungles? Leave those for lizards and apes.

There weren’t any other locals here except the Rajah’s prospective son-in-law, Rama, whose father, if Wink remembered his briefing, was the son of the rajah next door. Jadak? Something like that?

For their part, they numbered half a dozen: the colonel, Jo, Gramps, Gunny, Kay, and himself. All of them carried holstered sidearms now, and there were a pair of CFI troopers outside the conference-room door with assault rifles watching their backs, with two quads more at the transports.

The half-size holoproj showed a courtyard, viewed from maybe four meters above. The courtyard was full of colorful tropical plants, a small bubbling pool of water with orange-and-white hand-sized fish darting about in it, and a walk of what appeared to be dark cobblestones or a pretty good imitation of them.

After a few seconds, a woman appeared, walking from the right side of the frame toward the left. The woman wore a sari-style garment in what looked to be a pale blue silk, with matching slippers. A slight breeze molded the cloth to the front of her body. From the drape of the cloth, she was obviously female, a bit thin, but curvy. Her hair was dark, parted in the middle, and worn in a long braid that hung midway down her back, and she carried a cage of bamboo, containing a scarlet bird the size of a small parrot, but with a straw-yellow-colored, toucanlike bill.

“The Rajah’s daughter, Indira,” Ganesh said. His voice was high, girlish, and Wink had trouble reconciling that soprano with the man’s appearance. There was something spicy on his breath, a pleasant, mintlike odor.

As they watched the recording, a figure approached the woman from directly underneath the security cam. He was taller than she was by a head, wearing a gray coverall with a hood, and she turned to face him as he drew nearer. Only his back was visible.

There was no audio, but the woman said something.

“She asks, ‘Who are you?’” Ganesh said.

Indira frowned.

The man—perhaps a large woman?—pulled a small pistol from a coverall pocket. The figure wore thin gloves.

Indira tried to run, but the gunner fired before she could take even one step. She dropped the bird’s cage, clutched at her belly, and doubled over—but stayed on her feet, swaying.

The cage hit the cobblestones and broke apart.

The bird freed itself from the wreck and took to the air. Three meters high, four, level with the camera—

The shooter thrust the gun at the bird and fired again.

The bird dropped like a brick. Hit the cobblestones, bounced once, lay still.

Gunny said, “That’s a good shot with a stubby handgun, to hit a bird in flight point shooting. He’s some kind of pro.”

The shooter pocketed the weapon, caught the wobbly woman, and hoisted her over his shoulder in a rescue worker’s carry.

A man. He moved like a man, Wink thought.

The kidnapper hurried away, in the direction the woman had been heading. He disappeared.

Ganesh waved one hand. The projection shut off.

Jo said, “Was the bird some kind of messenger? Apt to bring help?”

“No,” Rama said. “It was a warbler, trained to sing traditional songs. My gift to her.”

“Apparently the shooter was not a music lover,” Gramps said, but his voice was quiet, so Wink barely heard it. Probably just as well the Rajah and his people didn’t hear it.

“We believe the bird was shot to tell us something,” Ganesh said.

“What would that be?” That from Kay.

Ganesh ignored her. He looked instead at Cutter. “We recovered the projectile from the bird and examined the missile. A low-velocity anesthetic dart. Sufficient to kill the bird, but only potent enough to make a human semiconscious for a short time. They meant us to know they had not killed her. They would know the garden was covered by cameras. With the bird, that would be sufficient for us to know.”

Wink caught a whiff of Vastalimi hormone. Kay was angry, at least a little.

Ganesh caught it, too. He turned and gave Kay a cold glare. He said something almost under his breath, and Wink heard it—Karāhiyat—but didn’t recognize the term.

Kay’s claws popped out, and she grinned at Ganesh, angled her head to one side.

Not a pleasant expression, that—

“At ease, Kay,” Cutter said.

After a moment, Kay’s claws vanished. She kept watching Ganesh.

Ganesh sneered. He tried to stare Kay down, but he was wasting his time. Vastalimi had nictitating membranes that protected their eyes. She could hold that expression unblinking all day if she wanted. Humans didn’t win staring contests with Vastalimi. Plus, if the Vastalimi got tired of it, he or she could always just claw the offending eyes out…

After a bit, Ganesh glanced away.

“And there has been no call for ransom?” Jo asked.

Rama shook his head. “We have had no demands of any kind from those who took her. They are allowing us to twist in the wind.”

Jo said, “If they wanted her dead, they could have killed her right there.”

That mirrored Wink’s thought. Shoot her with something harder and leave the body.

“Unless they had worse than a clean and quick death in mind,” Ganesh said. He kept staring at Kay.

Rama hissed something at the big man, who quickly looked down at the floor.

“Your pardon, sah.”

“She is not dead,” Rama said to the others. “I would know. But those who took her will wish their parents had never met before they die!”

Jo said, “And you have no idea who might have done this?”

Ganesh shook his head. “We do not. The Rajah has enemies. Some insurgents who would change the world to suit themselves. Foolish, but enemies.”

“As do I have enemies,” Rama added. “And I will address them.” His fury was barely suppressed.

“We’ll want a list,” Jo said.

“Of course.”

After they left, headed back to their transports, Gunny walked next to Wink. She said, “That ole boy Ganesh don’t know how close he just came to leavin’ this plane.”

Wink looked at her.

“He called Kay an abomination in Hindi. Apparently she knows that tongue.”

Wink shook his head. “A xenophobe. Great.”

“Yep. He gives her any shit when Rags ain’t around? Ah wouldn’t want to be him.”

Me, neither. Around Vastalimi, it wasn’t a good idea to say such things, especially to the females. They didn’t put up with much crap. They were always willing to go to the end, win, lose, die, all the same.

Jo stepped up closer to them.

Wink had never bothered to get much in the way of augmentation, and he wasn’t running stressware, though he knew Jo was. “Was the bald asshole lying?”

Jo shook her head. “Not that I could tell. Unless he’s got better autonomic control than he does of his emotions, I didn’t get stress tweaks except when he looked at Kay. He doesn’t seem to know who took the girl by the indirect questions we asked.”

Wink said, “What of the intended? He telling the truth?”

“He hopes she’s alive, though he can’t be sure—I’m a little leery of folks who claim ESP. She could be dead. He certainly seems pissed off about it.”

“But like you said,” Wink added, “if that was the intent, they could have easily killed her. Do we know how the kidnapper got past her guards?”

“Nobody follows them around inside the palace,” Jo said. “How they got inside? Nobody seems to know that, either. There are blind spots where the cams don’t go. Didn’t see him come in, didn’t see them leave.”

“Knew what he was doin’,” Gunny said.

“Obviously.”

“So it would seem they had other plans for her,” Jo said.

“Which could mean she is still breathing,” Wink said.

“Anything is possible.”

They caught up to the others.

Cutter said, “Well, I’m going back to the ship. Might take a little nap. Get the FCV set up, put together an investigative plan. Give me a briefing when I wake up.”

Jo nodded. “Yes, sir.”