Trickster. Part 8

"Look, I've gone through this with the police twice already," complained the woman. She was dressed in scarlet from head to foot, with a scarf twisted through night-black hair. The small hologram hovering near her collar gave her name as Linda Tellman and her t.i.tle as First Manager. She had an artificial sort of beauty that told Kendi's practiced eye she had been to a fresh-up at least once.

"I know, ma'am," Kendi said, slipping the fake police ID back into his pocket. "But you know how this sort of thing works. Every time you go over it, you may remember some detail you left out before."

"Well, you cop-guys are thorough, I'll give you that," Tellman muttered. She gestured at a chair near her desk. "Have a seat, Detective."

"Actually, I haven't seen the crime scene yet," Kendi said. "Could you go through what happened while we walk down there?"

Tellman sighed. "Somewhere in here I do have work to get done, but it can wait, right?"

Kendi didn't answer. He merely followed her through a series of corridors and down two flights of stairs. The DrimCom building, located on the outskirts of Felice, was low and sprawling, with lots of steel and blue-tinted reflective windows. Many of the offices they pa.s.sed were empty, recent indications of DrimCom's recent loss of revenue.

As if reading Kendi's mind, Tellman said, "If we can't get these two back, the company's going to go under. There isn't much of it left as it is. We had twenty-six Silent--"

"All slaves?" Kendi interrupted.

Tellman nodded. "But after the Despair, only two of them were able to enter the Dream. We held on to the others as long as we could, hoping their Silence would come back, but eventually we had to sell them. We raised our communication rates for the two Silent we had left, just like everyone else is doing, but then this happened. Our only source of revenue--gone. DrimCom's dying on the vine now."

"You don't seem overly upset," Kendi observed.

"I've got my savings--unlike a lot of people around here," Tellman said. "And I have prospects. My uncle works for Sufur Enterprises, and he says they have positions open, if you know who to talk to."

They reached an area that reminded Kendi of the Varsis Hotel. Numbered doors faced a quiet hallway lit with yellow lamps. Tellman selected one of the doors and thumbed the lock. It clicked open for her.

"These are our slave quarters," she said, entering ahead of Kendi. "The woman's name was Violet. This was her room."

Kendi stepped into the room. It was plainly furnished but bright, with yellow walls and a beige carpet. A light smell of perfumed body powder hung on the air. Several pictures--pen-and-ink drawings, not holograms--hung on the walls. Kendi almost gasped as he recognized Outback landscapes. Unable to help himself, he moved closer to one. A falcon skimmed high above a rocky cliff. At the base of the cliff wall sat a kangaroo. It was leaning back on its tail and staring up at the sky. In the bottom corner, the name "Martina" had been worked into the roots of a bush. Kendi's throat closed. This indeed belonged to his sister. She had eaten and slept and held onto her name in this very room. Her scent still lingered. With a trembling hand, he reached out to touch the gla.s.s of the frame.

"Is there something about her drawings?" Tellman asked behind him. "A clue?"

Kendi pulled his hand back and swallowed hard to get his voice under control. "Maybe. Why don't you tell me what happened and I'll look over the room."

"Like I told the other cop-guys, there isn't much to tell. The housekeeper was bringing Violet and Brad--that was the other one's name--their breakfasts and found the rooms empty. The doors were unlocked. The housekeeper tried to check with the security computer, but it had been taken off-line. A virus, we later found out. I was the Manager on duty, so the housekeeper called me next. I checked Brad's room, and he was gone, too. The moment they left their rooms, their shackles should have set off the alarms and shocked them unconscious, but that whole program was off-line. What with the recent cutbacks, we only have one tech left, and he only comes in every other day. Security was also reduced, but we didn't think it would be that big a deal. In retrospect, we probably should have been expecting this. Functioning Silent are a h.e.l.l of a lot more valuable than they used to be."

"Was there a guard on duty that night?" Kendi asked, still unable to take his eyes off the landscapes. He had no idea Martina could draw like that. And they had given Utang the name "Brad."

"The guard was found unconscious at his post. Hit with a brain taser. He doesn't remember anything from the past three days. The doctor said that's normal."

"Was anything taken?"

"Besides the slaves? No. They didn't even take their clothes or any possessions. That's why we're treating it as a theft instead of an escape, even though there were no signs of a struggle. My guess is they--Violet and Brad--were hit with the same brain taser that took out the guard."

Kendi looked through Martina's closet. Judging from her clothes, she was a head shorter than he was, and either she liked the color blue or that was all DrimCom provided for her. As he searched, he kept up a running series of questions to Tellman and gleaned a few more facts. The surveillance cameras had been shorted out just before the guard had been tasered, so there were no video or holographic clues. The security files for the entire night had also been erased. A police search of both rooms had turned up no blood and no evidence of weapons discharge.

"What about Brad's room?" Kendi asked.

"Same thing," Tellman said. "No struggle, nothing missing but him. It must have been really weird for him."

"What do you mean?"

"We bought Brad only one day before the Despair hit. We thought we were lucky to have grabbed him. But he was depressed and despondent after the Despair. I don't think he and Violet even met. He refused to come out of his room. We were just about to start a more aggressive treatment program on him--"

"--and then this happened. He arrives here, then leaves again. Weird for him. But if he's Silent, he must have been genegineered, so he'll probably adapt. Comes with not being entirely human."

Kendi wanted to hit her, had even clenched a fist, when another woman poked her head into the room.

"Manager Tellman?" she said. "There's a police detective here who wants to interview you."

"Another one?" Tellman said.

"Lena Halfson," replied the woman.

"That's her. Why don't you go down and get her, Manager Tallman, while I finish up in here?"

Tallman left, grumbling to herself about her position being reduced from manager to errand girl. The other woman followed. The moment they were out of sight, Kendi eased out of the room and sauntered swiftly down the hallway in the opposite direction. Then he paused, dashed back to the room, s.n.a.t.c.hed the Outback landscape from the wall, and rushed back out. A bit of searching turned up a back exit. Kendi hurried out of the building to his rented groundcar, kept his back to the police vehicle parked only four s.p.a.ces over, and drove quickly away, Martina's landscape on the seat beside him.

"How'd it go?" Ben asked when he arrived back at the hotel. "Any good news?"

"You tell me," Kendi replied, and quickly summarized what he had learned. "It sounds like someone s.n.a.t.c.hed them up because they're functional Silent. The question is, who? And how do we find out?"

"Sounds like we need to do a lot of record-checking," Gretchen said, scratching her foot where the heal-splint had recently come off. She and Lucia were perched on chairs by the window while Harenn sat with her son on the sofa. The boy insisted on being called Bedj-ka Bedj-ka and wouldn't answer to and wouldn't answer to Jerry Jerry. He seemed to be adjusting well to his new situation. Harenn was the one who looked continually bewildered.

"I agree," said Lucia. "We can find out which s.h.i.+ps have left Drim since then, see if any of them might be worth following up on. With Irfan's guidance, we might turn up something there."

"We can also check with other companies on Drim that employ--or own--Silent," Harenn pointed out. "Perhaps one of them has lost Silent as well. Or unexpectedly gained them."

"I can get into the Dream and see if anyone's heard from them," Ben offered. "Now that we have current names and the name of the firm that owned them."

Kendi sat down on a love seat, the drawing on his lap. "Thanks, guys. We'll keep trying, I guess." No one mentioned the fact that if Martina and Utang had been taken off-planet, the chances of finding them were slim. There was no way to track a slips.h.i.+p's course if the captain and pilot logged a false destination with the authorities. It was an advantage that both the Children and the slavers often used when they needed to make a fast getaway. The irony was rarely lost on Kendi.

"Who drew that?" Bedj-ka asked, pointing to the sketch.

"My sister." Kendi held it up so everyone could see. "She's pretty good. I didn't . . . I didn't know she could draw. I think it's her hobby."

"It's pretty rigid," Bedj-ka said. "Is there a clue in the picture? That's how it always works in stories and stuff--the artist leaves a clue in a painting or a poem or something that tells the good guys where they were taken, right? That's why you took the drawing, right? All we need to do is find the clue and then we could go in and rescue them and--"

"Real life," Harenn interrupted, "is rarely so easy."

"And I already looked for clues in the picture," Kendi said with small smile. "I figured it was worth a shot. There wasn't anything in it, though. Sorry." He set the picture aside, and suddenly he couldn't stand the idea of being in a roomful of people for another second. Anger flared. He wanted to knock something off the desk and rush from the room, but he didn't. Instead he forced himself to stand up with a calm face. "I need some time alone, guys. I'll be in my room if something turns up."

He knew before he got the bedroom door open that Ben was coming up behind him. He turned, caught Ben's eye, and shook his head. "I'm going into the Dream for a while." Then he firmly shut the door.

Harenn Mas.h.i.+b felt the guilt drag at her like a wet, heavy cloak. The sky above Felice was overcast today, blunting the worst of the usual humid heat but still leaving the busy city uncomfortably warm. Harenn's feet ached, her stomach was empty, and she had a headache, but the guilt kept her moving.

"Your pardon," she said, and held up the holos to the next person on the sidewalk. "Have you seen either of these people?"

The man glanced at the hologram of Kendi's siblings and shook his head. Harenn moved on. This was the third straight day she had been at it. Even Bedj-ka had abandoned her, preferring to stay in the hotel and swim or read or play on the virtual reality networks. She had only allowed him to stay behind after extracting heavy promises from Ben that someone would always, always always have an eye on him. And Harenn kept at it, shoving the holograms in the faces of random pa.s.sers-by, hoping for a flicker of recognition. have an eye on him. And Harenn kept at it, shoving the holograms in the faces of random pa.s.sers-by, hoping for a flicker of recognition.

It was a ploy of desperation. She knew it. Kendi knew it. But in the past week, all other clues had been followed, all other avenues had been exhausted. Martina and Utang had simply vanished. It made Harenn's heart twist inside her whenever she saw Kendi's ashen face. Although he had repeatedly a.s.sured her that he didn't hold her responsible, she couldn't help but feel that she was. Every night when she looked down at Bedj-ka's sleeping face, she couldn't help but feel that way.

It filled Harenn with joy beyond imagining to have Bedj-ka back. After their first embrace, she had given him another, and then another, and several more, until at last he began to protest. He was a stranger to her, but she was getting to know him, was growing used to his chatter and how much he lived in his imagination. She had finally set a limit on the number of hours he spent on the game networks, insisting he get fresh air and exercise in the real world. He had become angry and she had almost given in to his demands. What if he ran away from her? What if he stopped speaking to her? What if he hated her for doing this to him? More than anything else, Harenn wanted to live in peace and love with her son. But then she had decided that spoiling him would not, in the end, be best for either of them. The anger and pouting that followed had been difficult, but eventually Bedj-ka's bright nature had returned and he had asked to go swimming. Harenn was beginning to feel like a mother again, even if she barely knew her child.

It was a feeling that had come at great cost to Kendi.

So now Harenn searched the streets. The work was no doubt futile, but it made her feel as if she were doing something something, and it kept her away from the sight of Kendi's haunted eyes.

Another fruitless hour pa.s.sed. Harenn's headache intensified along with the hunger, but still she kept moving, asking, looking. After a while, Lucia emerged from the crowd.

"Here you are," she said. "What did you do, switch off your earpiece? I've been worried. You've been gone for so long, and Bedj-ka was wondering what was going on."

Another twinge of guilt. "I have lost track of time."

"Any luck?"

"None."

"Let's go back to the suite. Father Kendi ordered room service. He said he doesn't much feel like going out. I think he's about to give up and leave."

Harenn shook her head as they moved along the sidewalk toward the Varsis Building. "That would be a mistake. We are so very close to them."

A familiar scent wafted by. Spicy grilled sausage sizzled on a cart tended by a man wearing a disposable white cap. Harenn wrinkled her nose. Grilled sausage had been one of Isaac Todd's favorite foods, and every time she smelled the stuff, it brought back harsh memories.

"We don't know if we're close to them or not," Lucia said. "That's the problem. We don't have a single--"

A customer turned away from the cart, raising a sausage in a bun to his mouth. A pang shot through Harenn's stomach. She dropped the holo-unit and grabbed the man by the lapels of his s.h.i.+rt. With a strength that surprised even herself, she shoved him into an alley and up against the hard stone wall. The sausage went flying. The man grunted and his eyes widened with shock and surprise as the tip of the large knife Harenn always carried p.r.i.c.ked his throat. Lucia gaped.

"Harenn, what--?" she began.

"Do you remember me?" Harenn hissed. "Do you?"

"Who the f.u.c.k are you, lady?" the man yelped. His eyes were saucer-wide beneath straw-blond hair.

"You don't remember, then." Ignoring Lucia's startled questions, Harenn shoved her face closer to the man's. The big knife blade, sharp and unmoving, pressed against his jugular. "I am unsure if that makes me simply angry or absolutely furious. In either case it does not bode well for you."

"Harenn!" Lucia protested. "What's going on?"

"Tell the woman who you are," Harenn growled.

"Lady, I don't--"

"Tell her!" She pressed the edge of the blade into his skin until a drop of blood oozed down the edge. The man cringed. "Tell her your name!"

"I'm . . . it's Marlin Silver."

Harenn pressed harder. "Liar! Tell the truth, or I will slice you open here and now."

"Todd!" the man howled. "My name is Isaac Todd!"

"Where did you say you found him?" Kendi demanded.

"Not far from the s.p.a.ceport," Harenn said grimly. "I was showing the holograms of your brother and sister around and I saw him. Lucia and I dragged him back to the s.h.i.+p, then we called you."

"She almost killed him--" Lucia began.

"I still may," Harenn said.

"--but I convinced her that he might be a good source of underworld information."

"Hey, there's no need for violence." Isaac Todd raised both his hands in supplication. A silver slave band, fitted by Lucia, encircled one wrist to ensure he wouldn't attack anyone. The man was attractive enough. Square jaw, blond hair, well-molded physique, blue eyes. Bedj-ka was lucky that way, Kendi decided. The boy had his father's features and his mother's coloring. He was going to break hearts in a dozen solar systems when he got older.

"What are you doing here, Isaac?" Harenn demanded. "Does it have anything to do with the slaves who were kidnapped from DrimCom?"

"I don't have to talk to you," Todd replied tightly.

"You fail to understand, my husband," Harenn purred. She leaned forward, pus.h.i.+ng her bare face into his. "You will talk to us and you will tell us everything we need to know. I have in this medical bay a wide variety of drugs that will make you reveal everything that ever happened in your filthy life. Some of those drugs have very interesting side-effects. You will will talk, Isaac, and then I will check the veracity of your answers with my collection of chemicals. The only question is how miserable I will make you in the process. How miserable do you want to be?" talk, Isaac, and then I will check the veracity of your answers with my collection of chemicals. The only question is how miserable I will make you in the process. How miserable do you want to be?"

In the corner, Ben s.h.i.+fted with obvious discomfort. Kendi, however, paid him scant attention. Isaac Todd was an illegal slaver found on the same planet in the same city at the same time his brother and sister had been kidnapped. The coincidence was simply too much to ignore, and every instinct Kendi had said that Todd knew something about Utang and Martina. The only question was how much he knew.

"I have rights," Todd said. "You can't do this to me."

"To whom will you complain, husband?" Harenn asked. "The police? Perhaps we should call them right now and see what they say when I tell them we have a man who is wanted on many planets for kidnapping and illegal slave trafficking."

"Who do you work for?" Kendi asked.

Todd remained silent. After a moment, Harenn reached for an instrument tray and came up with a hypodermic needle long and thick enough to puncture bone. It glittered in the harsh overhead light.

"That's not a dermospray," Todd yelped, pus.h.i.+ng himself backward on the bed until his back was against the wall.

"How observant you are," Harenn said. "I do have dermosprays, but I am not inclined to use them."