TWENTY-FOUR
Kay got the call as she finished grooming her fur, combing out undercoat shed and tangles. She wasn’t particularly vain about her appearance, but there were basic minimum standards a Vastalimi would adhere to when it was possible to do so. You might not have time to groom in combat for days, but there was no excuse for not doing it sitting idle, waiting for something—for anything—to happen…
She opened the com, said: “I am here.”
“Is this the Vastalimi?” came the voice.
A female Rel, she didn’t doubt. “It is. Speak.”
“I am told you wish to talk to me.”
“And you are?”
“My name does not matter.”
“Then you should have no problem giving it to me. And better that we should talk face-to-face.”
“I won’t give you my name, nor will we meet can I help it. Two of my kind to whom you recently spoke face-to-face are dead. I have no desire to join them.”
“All the same, they are dead, and certainly due to that contact. Death rides on Vastalimi shoulders.”
So, Booterik’s thinly veiled reference to his sibling Zeth’s being dead could be so if this Rel was telling the truth.
“So Zeth is dead. How did he die?”
There was a long pause. “I understand it was suicide.”
Kay nodded to herself. Yes. That made sense. Under stress, Rel were quicker to do that than many species. Or it could have been murder, to keep him quiet.
“It was you who told Zeth the location of the kidnapped human fem.”
“No. I told someone else, who told someone, who probably told Zeth. I did not know Zeth.”
Yes, she could see such a possibility. What one Rel knew was apt to be shared with others, which was likely how Zeth learned of it. They were herd creatures; among themselves, they were quick to talk about anything and everything. Which was why she went looking there in the first place.
“How did you come to learn this information?”
“By way of a human native.”
“The human’s name?”
“I—I need assurances.”
“What assurances?”
“That if I help you, you will not hunt me.”
Kay considered the comment. Augmented Rel. Those who didn’t roll over and show their bellies immediately? How very strange. “You bargain with me? Have you forgotten who I am?”
“I know what you are. And I know, too, what the word of a Vastalimi means. Give it, or I discom and run.”
“And you believe I won’t find you?”
“Eventually. It might take years.”
“Or days.”
“Yes. But that is my offer.”
The Rel did not matter, only what she knew. “All right, done. If you give me information—and if it turns out to be true and useful—I won’t hunt you.”
“The human’s name is Brahmaputra Siddhartha. He is the manager of the TotalMart in Dep-by-the-Sea.”
“How did he come to reveal this information?”
“By accident.”
“Explain.”
“I worked for TotalMart as a contract accountant, and Bram Sid was my employer there. While balancing ledgers, I came across a file that was out of place. When I read it, I found the information about the Rajah’s daughter. It was thinly disguised—‘R.’s daughter, being held at the lodge, under guard.’ Like that. I mentioned it to my lover.”
And her lover could not keep it to himself, Rel being what they were. It spread from there.
“Is that all you know of it?”
“It is.”
“Then we are done,” Kay said. “Graze free.”
The Rel broke the connection.
They could find out her name, of course. If she worked for TotalMart, there would be records, and Cutter Colonel had deep connections with TotalMart. But why would she bother? The CFI team could verify it if they wished. The Rel was but a tool, history of no import. And Kay had given her word, which was important.
This was most clever, the planting of false information. It was done by somebody who knew that Rel were quick to mouth, who knew that it would be too good not to share. And by someone who knew that it was likely a Vastalimi hunting for information would eventually speak to one of the Rel who had it. Most clever.
Perhaps they had made this information available elsewhere, as well.
It seemed an elaborate and complicated effort to set up a trap. Of course, it had worked, if not as well as they doubtless wished.
Certainly it was not done by some half-witted kidnapper looking to make money; no, this opponent was smart and, so far, had been ahead of them. That was good. One wanted a decent match. There was no real joy in a fight against a markedly inferior opponent.
She needed to speak to the colonel.
Once more, the core group sat in the conference room. Jo glanced at Cutter, who nodded. She began:
“Kay has information that the false lead we followed to the hunting lodge was a plant, and that the source was one Brahmaputra Siddhartha, who manages a TotalMart in Dep-by-the-Sea. At six million inhabitants, Dep is the second-largest city in New Mumbai. It is north of here, located between Lake Dep and the Kali Sea. Bram Sid is a local by birth.”
“Any confirmation?” Gramps asked.
“We can confirm the identity of the source and a possible connection to the Rel who steered us wrong.”
“TotalMart?” That from Gunny. “The same TotalMart who we do a whole shitload of our business for?”
Cutter said, “Yep. Check your flatscreens, you will find everything the corporation knows about Bram Sid.”
“Why would he be involved in this?” Wink asked.
Jo said, “We’ll be taking a little run up the coast to speak to M. Sid later this afternoon to find out.”
Jo said, “Formentara also has some news for us.” She looked at hir.
“My reports are that Booterik had his augmentation surgery done four days before he died, at a facility also in Dep-by-the-Sea, by an ajnabi—an offworlder—arrived here but two weeks earlier. This programmer is human, ostensibly from Filay the Moon, in the Filay System. Goes by the name ‘Gee.’ Local augmentors says this is the only person who has the capabilities outside myself.”
“Kind of a coincidence, isn’t it?” That from Gramps.
It was a rhetorical question.
“What’s the drill?” Wink asked.
Jo said, “We pay M. Sid a visit. You bring some of your happy juice and administer it so he wants to play nice and come along to answer our questions truthfully. If he did it, we squeeze him until Indira pops loose. If somebody put him up to it, we find them and do the same.”
Jo looked at Cutter, who raised one hand in a continue-on gesture.
“The TM is one of the midsized plenipotentiary stores, a Zanzibar-Design, with many small, specialty-shop fronts linked together. Two kilometers by two kilometers under-roof, nineteen thousand full-time employees, most of whom live in cheap housing on the premises.
“They are a main stop on the maglev line, have their own airport and spaceport, complete with customs. In addition to employee housing, there are hotels, hospitals, banks, fire department, wooded parks, entertainment, restaurants. Got a two-hundred-person security force, power stations, dedicated water supply—it’s essentially a town owned by the corporation, and it draws shoppers from New Mumbai, Pahal, and the Kali Islands. On an average day, there will be more than a hundred thousand customers cycling through this place.”
“And this guy is the manager of all that?” Gunny said. “What kind of money does a job like that pay?”
“With commissions, I’d guess 2.5, maybe 3 million noodle a year,” Gramps said.
“Doesn’t seem like somebody who’d want to get into kidnapping for the money,” Wink said.
“No, it doesn’t,” Jo said. “And we’ll have to be careful. It’s not a good idea to let their security know we are coming—we don’t want word to get to M. Sid and have him decide it’s a great time to take a vacation. If we get in trouble, the colonel can pull some strings, but better we avoid that.
“Formentara and Kay will go see the augmentor. Gunny, Gramps, Wink, and I will find the manager.”
“Two-hundred-person security?” Gramps said.
“They won’t all be on duty; besides, we’ll give them something else to think about.”
Cutter said, “Something not too expensive, please. We don’t want to piss off the golden goose here.”
“I have just the thing,” Jo said.