Shadowed Passage, page 9
"Pick room, please."
"How come you're so empty?"
"Pick room, please."
"I'm meeting a shipmate, any chance he's booked in?"
Progress' minimal security helped her. DualE scanned names of the tenants. She tapped a vacancy closest to the occupied berths. She'd give them a look before continuing her search.
She turned her back to the check-in screen. "Chels, it's me. I know you've probably done this but can you check photo identities of these residents?" She tapped in the names on her wrist screen. While she waited for Chels' response, DualE paid for the berth in cash. The images came back of four varied spacers of various shapes, color and sizes. What they shared was a look of desperation and that none of them were Perry.
"I'll be back later," she informed the machine. "Where can I eat."
"Follow green line to your left and above. Discount coupon for my guests." A plastic tag spit from the check-in panel.
DualE followed the intermittent green indicators and smelled the bistro two turns before she saw it. Inside, two other patrons ate and drank in silence. A serv-bot approached her. "Where's the rest of your custom?" DualE asked, not expecting any better answer than the cube hotel's AI.
"All here. Order from menu please."
"No navy personnel? They always end up in a place like this towards leave-end." She knew from personal experience. Where was the Realm's force which backed up the secession threat? If not near Slate's Progress, then the Eddy must be their muster point.
"All custom here. Place order please."
"Coffee." She nodded at the other two patrons but neither gave here more than a brief glance before returning to their meal. The glances were clear on one point. Don't bother us.
She sipped her coffee and contemplated her next step. Deeper into the bowels of Progress. She slipped out when the other patrons were engaged in ignoring her.
She made her way below the berth level. The illumination on these decks was minimal. She wouldn't make herself an easy target so she foreswore using her suit-light and relied on light-amplifying goggles to see. She scanned ceiling, crannies, nooks and below catwalks for habitation evidence. She found two long-unused hammocks slung on high conduits but nothing else. No food refuse. Progress ran lean but robot cleaners had done their job.
DualE automatically ascended from stand-by to combat mode. In the field, one scanned for threats while simultaneously evaluating strong and weak strategic points in the landscape or fortifications. Here, she hunted for signs of habitation and noted the station's vulnerabilities. Whether or not she'd ever need or want to pass her intel on to Rowland would depend on future circumstance. If her ex-colleagues were in danger then she'd share. She did not imagine the Confluence attacking Slate's as a legitimate threat. It was a commercial port, and so far as she'd seen, relatively undefended, let alone a staging hub for a mass offensive against Bohr.
Scuff marks caught her eye on a ladder leading up into darkness. She knelt close, noting the worn finish on the rung centers. A regular path for many users over the years. She tilted her head back. Her goggles showed twenty or so rungs above her. She clamped a normal light to the ladder and turned off her night vision. She stood to one side and switched on the light. No response. She was alone.
DualE tried raising Chels on her radio but the interference from the intervening mechanical levels was too great. She switched off the light and climbed in the dark. Halfway up, she paused to listen. Just the station creaking and clanking above the background buzz. She refitted her night goggles and resumed the climb.
At the top rung, DualE saw the boot. She hooked an arm through the rung and prodded the foot. Stiff. The matching leg curled against an unmoving torso. She switched to normal illumination for a better look at the head. The lips pulled back in a rictus grin, distorting the face but she had no doubt she'd found Perry.
Had someone else found him first? While he was still alive, hiding from his conscience or an enemy?
She detailed the lonely cocoon in her mind. Like a wounded animal, Perry'd secluded himself from predators. Slate's people would have to determine cause of death but she wanted to memorize everything she could with a professional eye in case the official version contradicted what she saw.
She descended the ladder, wondering how Chels would react. She hoped the brotherhood's disciple had another soul-confessor to replace Pious once they'd left for the Eddy. There was a deadly artifact somewhere in the big beyond and one of the two men who could find it was out of the game. Permanently.
Chapter 18
Carver, in his Willie Renfrew guise, searched surplus machinery caches within a week's transport from the Eddy shipyard. He tagged three prospects.
The first was an abandoned ore refining operation near a cluster of asteroids which were tapped out decades ago. The cover might be shaky on that one; if the original owners left the equipment for scrap, why would they have value now? He'd let Zofie work on it.
The second batch were agricultural terra-farming rock weevils never deployed. Near as Carver could tell, they'd never even made orbit around the target planet. They were an open-bid-lot which so far, no one had pursued. Again, the risk of sudden interest in what the majority deemed worthless was a concern.
The last, a century-old observatory, held the most promise. For one thing, the pieces were bigger than weevils and thus better to mask the artifacts. Even in freefall, the masses should deter anything but a cursory inspection. And despite the age, there might be actual value in the equipment. The drawback was the observation complex was mostly intact. It would need dismantling. Again, he'd leave it up to Zofie to decide if she would sub-contract the work. He wasn't going to.
He had other plans. Getting a message to DualE for one, Zofie's assurances aside. Zofie monitored his work so it would have to be something she was unlikely to see. A beacon? If he could access Whisper's emergency beacon and code a short signal, he could control the sending when she was asleep or off ship. The Crossed Swords should pick it up. DualE was Eddy-bound and would be looking. It was worth a shot. As long as Zofie didn't overreact if she found him out.
While he accessed the beacon's controls, his mind worked on the real cargo. Alien artifacts. He'd been a broker, a fixer in a previous career, so he had no compunction about keeping the artifacts in private hands. Little good ever came out of the military having exclusive right to new technology.
What bothered Carver was why move it? If location held clues to the artifacts' function, then shipping them to the Confluence destroyed part of the key information. And thus, value. A local auction would be the simplest course but less lucrative than the Confluence would provide. The Reds didn't want the Realm to have this. If it did, Chancellor Mekli would use it as a bargaining chip. The Reds weren't Eddy. They were Confluence sympathizers or maybe agents. If Zofie got caught, they wouldn't have their cover blown. Not right away. Zofie would be sacrificed. Carver too if he didn't get away from her.
He needed to get this venture done and hold her to her promise to free him.
Zofie'd snooped in every bar in the shipyard until her legs ached from being pushed around dance floors and hiking the corridors when transport couldn't be found.
She slipped off her boots and rubbed her toes while waiting for the servbot to pour her drink.
"I saw your cross."
Zofie looked up from the table. A woman about her size stood before her, displaying a black and silver cross on a neck chain. Zofie felt the small weight of her own gift from Brother Pious back in Bohr. Pious had not absolved her of her sins but she'd gained peace of mind after her psychological meltdown aboard the Pollux.
"A token to remind me of past deeds," said Zofie. "Please sit. Tell me how you came by yours."
"A gift from a missionary months ago on Slate's Progress."
"Brother Pious?" Maybe this woman was the link Zofie needed to penetrate the veil surrounding the shipyards' inhabitants.
"Yes. You know him?"
"I know a Pious. Travels aboard the Penance with Atone, Remorse and Cardinal."
"Then we are well met. I'm Cassity. I became a follower after his sermon on Slate's. And you?"
"Zofie Ked. Small universe, wouldn't want to giftwrap it, right? Can I offer you drink? I'm avoiding alcohol at the moment but won't be offended if you want to indulge. I've walked from one end of the shipyard to the other and then some today." The servbot placed Zofie's mug on the table.
"Eddy whisky, straight up," ordered Cassity. "Why? If I may ask."
Zofie fingered her cross. "Trying to get the lay of the station and the people aboard. Ships and repair seem at a minimum but I get no sense for the people. Seems a closed shop and no one's inclined to share with an outsider." Zofie exhaled and stared past Cassity.
"It's not as hopeless as you look, I'm sure. What do you want to know? Maybe I can help."
Zofie offered a sincere expression while she evaluated the woman. What sins had driven her to Pious? Cassity's cooperation could be like a wild animal, skittish if one moved or spoke wrong. "I'm a trader. A brokerage agent. I work for myself so I deal on a small scale. Transporting cargo to Argosy Station or all the way to Bohr Confluence if required. I take the risk and find the market while my temporary partners in the Eddy can accumulate their next consignment. I cover my costs and take a small percentage for profit. It's slow going but I don't have to worry about pleasing a boss."
"You're looking for clients?"
"No, I've found clients, I want to know if I can trust them. There are too many who'd wear my guts for garters, going on past experience." Zofie eased her feet back into her boots.
Cassity grimaced. A memory in tune with Zofie's painful learning curve?
"Brokerage isn't my line of work. I'm a maintenance analyst. I do hear things though. Anyone specific in mind?"
Zofie knew her approach had worked. "I wouldn't want you to add to your confession next time you meet the brothers so I'm not looking for you to betray a confidence." Though that was exactly what she needed. "I'm dealing with Marshall and Higgins, not even sure what they need shipped but they've approached me and I think we can do business. But I don't want my first jump as an independent operator to go bad due to contraband."
Cassity nodded. "Marshall, I know. Higgins is contract muscle. Doubt he's a partner. I'm surprised Marshall would require your services."
"Why's that?"
"She's a broker herself. Not independent. I'm not sure who she works for but she's not without resources. She has her own ship. The Banshee's good gear."
Zofie wondered if she should ask Cassity's opinion on the Reds. If they were more than advertised, she could give herself away to one of their allies. She needed more time before pushing this friendliness with Cassity too far.
Zofie lowered her head and grasped Cassity's hand. "We should offer a prayer for meeting and keeping Pious' mission alive."
"I pray I will see him again."
"Your prayer may come true."
Cassity returned Zofie's grip for a few moments while each kept their thoughts unspoken.
Zofie released first. "I must return to my ship. Can we meet again. Here? In another shift? If you discovered any more information for me about Marshall, I'd be grateful, Sister Cassity."
"Of course. Make it two shifts. I have to EVA on my next assignment and I don't know if I'll be held over outside for an extra period."
"Then in two. My ship's the Whisper." Zofie parted ways with her new source and headed back to Carver. She'd need to hack the shipyard's systems and find out more about Marshall and her need for a third-party shipper.
Carver heard the rap at the lock.
"It's Marshall. We're here to talk to Zofie."
Her face filled the screen from the 'lock cam. A second pair of shoulders lurked behind her but Marshall blocked the face. Higgins didn't rate even a mention from his own partner?
"Zofie's not here, Marshall."
"She told us to meet here. Do you mind if we come in?"
Carver slid the 'lock open.
Marshall moved past him and said, "I believe you two know each other."
Carver knew her companion but didn't welcome his company. "Gar Kondradt. Argosy Station finally throw you out?"
"Denz," said Kondradt. "Or Renfrew. Which do you prefer? I'd think you'd don a new identity for a liaison with Zofie."
"I prefer liaising with her over any dealings with you."
Kondradt was unfazed. "Nevertheless, we're here. Ready to talk."
"I'd prefer not talking with you, either. You tried to swindle me, then tried to kill me. Me and an entire freighter crew and the barnacles they rode with."
Kondradt maintained his cool. "Your interpretation of events, Denz, not mine. I had my orders from the Chancellor to stop your Schoenfeldium shipment at any cost. Elimination was his intention. I did my best to turn the operation into a navigational diversion and hijacking. You're the one who forced Zofie over the edge." Kondradt apparently had no secrets from Marshall. Was she his new Zofie?
"She worked for you." Carver ensured his path to the door was clear. He placed himself between the visitors and the escape route.
"No, she pretended to work for me. She was Chancellor Mekli's agent provocateur all along. Frankly, I'm surprised a man of your resourcefulness would allow himself to be tied to her again."
"Let's call it a circumstantial alliance rather than a partnership. Temporary. I help Zofie in return for her aid in my work." Carver turned his attention to Marshall. "In my role as Zofie's aide, are your needs legitimate or was it all a blind to bring Kondradt here? Give him another try at revenge for sending my lode to the Confluence instead of the Realm? This shipyard has a lot of new-looking structures. I bet they were paid for by the discovery royalties on my bonanza."
Kondradt answered for her. "Our need is legitimate. Zofie Ked may have some emotional issues but she is a good broker. And I desire relative anonymity."
"Then why reveal yourself?" A new voice joined the conversation.
"Zofie. Welcome." Kondradt nudged Marshall toward the 'lock. "Make sure we aren't interrupted."
Zofie didn't enter.
"You've no need to fear me, Zofie. I need your help." Kondradt hadn't moved from his seat. "Hear me out. You've spent the last shift combing the yards looking for information about Marshall. Who she works for, what she's shipping? Am I right?"
"You remain well-informed," said Carver. "Now that we know Marshall works for you, can I ask who you work for?" He kept an eye on Zofie. She had calmed herself.
"I work for the Realm. That hasn't changed."
Kondradt worked for himself first. Carver doubted the man's loyalties had changed because of the Confluence-Realm peace accord.
"Why would the Realm need my help?" asked Zofie.
A critical question, Carver thought.
"Because you're not part of the official bureaucracy. There are times, and this temporary peace is one of them, when independent operators function more freely than normal channels."
"Bullshit. You mean we operate more secretively and if caught, are expendable with no harm done to either side."
Kondradt shrugged. "One interpretation. Along with the risk comes greater reward. Zofie, I can guess what you want. A rebuilt network I so callously destroyed in my myopic fervor to serve Chancellor Mekli and an independent Realm. It was a mistake I regret to this day. I won't lie and say I'm trying to make it up to you with this contract. That's up to you to make it work. Your success is a by-product I can accept and welcome. The Realm will ally with the Confluence but we will maintain certain areas of complete independence."
Carver applauded and Kondradt scowled. Marshall tensed, as if ready to pounce.
Kondradt touched her arm, then turned back to Carver. "You remain skeptical, Denz?"
"Not at all, I completely accept your goal for some shred of freedom. And I accept you don't believe it will undermine the peace process going forward. What Bohr doesn't know or suspect, can't hurt them."
Kondradt smiled. "You should work with us. You have a quick grasp of reality."
"No thanks. I've already got too many careers going."
"What do you want me to ship, Gar?"
Kondradt turned back to Zofie. "Nothing embargoed. No weapons, no tech."
"Then you won't need much room?" Carver asked.
"Depends." Kondradt rose and shuffled in Whisper's small cabin. He tapped walls and the deck and pulled out one of the cryo coffins. "Are you going back with her?" he asked Carver.
"No. I'm waiting for my clients to show up from Argosy Station."
"Excellent. Zofie will have room for a passenger."
"You're shipping an information courier," said Zofie. "Marshall?" Zofie glanced outside.
"Smart guess. I knew my renewed faith in you was not misplaced. She may be disoriented when we bring her aboard. You put her in standard deepsleep. Upon arrival in Bohr, you will escort her to a rendezvous which she will reveal."
"Info-mule," said Zofie.
An unfamiliar term to Carver but he inferred meaning from context. A shadow subconscious filled with confidential data. He scanned the Whisper's cabin. How many snoopers had Kondradt planted on his inspection?
Kondradt stood in the 'lock. "You've two shifts to accept. Don't turn me down, Zofie. I can accelerate your recovery and enhance your future success. And don't run. This is a golden opportunity. It would help if you have a material shipment to accompany you aboard whichever jumpfreighter you choose. Denz, good to see you alive and thriving." He turned and left.
Marshall poked her head in. "I promise I'll be no threat."
Once the two were alone, Carver put a finger to his lips to indicate silence. After five minutes he went outside the Whisper. Kondradt and Marshall were nowhere in sight. "Come out," he called to Zofie. He closed the 'lock from the outside. "We need to review in private."
"The bastard bugged my ship," she said.
"He planted it in the coffin. I'll deal with it later. Right now, I need to summarize your options for the Reds' camouflage."
