"Sorry to tell you this, Sean," Whittaker Fiske said, "but the kidnapper has been identified as Onidi Louchard, a well-known and clever pirate with a well-equipped outfit and a base no law-enforcement agency's ever been able to discover. Louchard is ruthless, and has formidable resources."

"Do they have a medic?" Sean demanded savagely, the sound of Yana's coughing echoing in his ears. d.a.m.n! She'd only just gotten over the aftereffects of the Bremport ga.s.sing. How could she be subjected to another episode?

"Huh?" Whit was taken aback by the unexpected question.

"Yana's got a cough again, bad enough so they use it to threaten me with."

"They lose her as hostage and they've no leverage..."

"d.a.m.n it, Whit, what d'you mean by that that?"

"That if she's sick, they'll b.l.o.o.d.y well see she gets better! Of course. What'd you think I meant?"

Sean murmured something but Whit went on: "The commander of Gal Three's organized a ma.s.sive search of and contact with every vessel that left the docks since before Yana, Marmion, and the kids went missing. They're leaving nothing to chance." Whit gave a groan. "But it's going to take time. That's one of the busiest stations in the whole Intergal net. I've also had a word with Anaciliact, and he's none too happy with that PTS group. He's going to get an injunction against them to prevent any further unauthorized trips to the surface. I'm going one better. I'm getting permission for you to have a representative in the s.p.a.ceBase control tower, so you can trace any drops they might make before that injunction is served. We gotta find find them first." Whit made a noise of total disgust and annoyance at the obstacles. "We don't need them first." Whit made a noise of total disgust and annoyance at the obstacles. "We don't need any any of this right now!" of this right now!"

"Precisely why we have it," Sean said bitterly. "Can you spare Johnny to watch the screen?"

Whittaker shook his head regretfully. "Much as I'd like to, he's far more useful elsewhere than sitting on his duff looking at a screen for hours on end."

"Yeah."

"Get Una to see what she can come up with."

That was a good notion: Una possessed a knack for finding people with unusual, and useful talents. He wondered why he hadn't thought of it.

"I'll ask her."

"I'll keep in touch, Sean, and see what else I can learn that's going on at Gal Three."

"Find out where Luzon is," Sean said dourly.

"I did. He's doing intensive therapy in some fancy spa to get active again."

"Again? He's never stopped being active-against Petaybee."

"If we could prove that, Sean," Whit said in a savage and none-too-hopeful tone, "we'd do Intergal a big favor."

"Count on me."

As soon as the link broke, Sean explained to Una what was needed and why.

"One of my first group, I think, had some station-keeping experience," she said after a long moment's thought. "I thought it very odd indeed that we were landed so far from any place civilized..."

Sean burst out laughing. She regarded him in some surprise.

"You do my heart good, Una. You consider Kilcoole civilized?"

"Comparatively speaking," she said with a slight grin, gratified that she had eased the haunted look on Sean's face. She had come to admire him very much in the short time she'd been working with him, helping him with impossible burdens-not the least of which was this continuous influx of unnecessary people, especially the commercial types who seemed so eager to raid whatever wealth this planet held. "We were told that the s.p.a.ceBase had been destroyed so we would have to be landed at a distance from the nearest community..."

"Only the exact distance wasn't specified."

"That's it. Had I known what I know now..."

"Tell me, Una, exactly what were you told and by whom?"

She paused, organizing her thoughts: Sean had discovered that organization was her strong suit.

"Well, first there was the bulletin about Petaybee being a sentient planet. So I tagged the word on my terminal for any further information, knowing, you see, that some of my family had been sent here. Petaybee"-she gave him a little smile-"was suddenly much in the bulletins, and then the advertis.e.m.e.nt appeared, offering safe and quick transport facilities to the surface of the planet."

"Just like that?"

"Well, about three weeks after the first mention of Petaybee. I had enough frequent-flyer hours to my credit to get to the Intergal Station easily enough. And the cost of getting to Petaybee's surface was not all that much, considering. In fact, rather cheap."

"Cheap enough to attract pa.s.sengers, huh?"

"I suppose so."

"Go on."

"When I got to the Intergal Station, the transit desk told me to book in at the Mallside hostelry, where all Petaybean pa.s.sengers had to register. When I checked in, I had to deposit the fare and then I was given a departure time."

"Just like that?"

"Yes."

"By whom?"

"The clerk at Mallside. Oh, I got a stamped pa.s.sage chit, or believe you me, I wouldn't have handed over most of the last credits I had to my name."

"You wouldn't happen to remember the number of the account to which you credited the fare?"

"I do. BM-20-2334-57." She repeated it so that Sean could jot it down. "The next morning I was given a time to a.s.semble in the hotel lobby. I must say I was a little surprised at the... diversity of my fellow pa.s.sengers. And relieved to find that there were other folks trying to find their Petaybean relatives."

"What did your courier look like?"

"There wasn't one. When I arrived... a little ahead of time, I admit, because I was so eager to be on time. Some small link transports don't wait so it's wiser to be on time," she told Sean in her earnest manner. He nodded and she continued. "There was a printed notice that we were to proceed to the departure gate. Anyone not on time would forfeit their fare." She paused. "The only thing that rea.s.sured me was that the transport was so obviously new-one of the other pa.s.sengers said it was even state-of-the-art."

"Would you have forfeited your fare if it had been a ramshackle vehicle?" Sean asked.

She gave a little laugh. "No, I'd sold up to get here. But to the business at hand, Sean, it's Simon Furey who might stand watch for you at s.p.a.ceBase. He's the one who noticed how new the transport was."

"Where's he right now?"

"We can ask Wild Star. She's teaching in the latchkay shed."

Wild Star was certain that her husband Simon would be quite willing to help Sean out. Simon seconded that when they found him. In the first place, he'd love to get his hands on the guy who had dumped them down in the middle of nowhere. If it hadn't been for 'Cita, they could have frozen to death their first night on the planet. In the second place, he had two badly blistered hands from chopping wood, which was the ch.o.r.e he'd been a.s.signed in Kilcoole.

"I don't mind doing my share, like," he said, displaying the b.l.o.o.d.y signs of his industry, "but I'd rather a chance to toughen up more gradually, like. Ya know what I mean?"

He said he'd stood enough watches on the mining vessels he'd worked over the past twenty years so that he felt himself able to do what Sean wanted.

"Just don't mess the guy up so much we can't get civil answers out of him, will you?" Sean asked wryly.

The shuttle was due to make its weekly descent to Petaybee within the next thirty-two hours, and Simon was able to plot from its trajectory where it would touch down: in the forest nearer Shannonmouth than Kilcoole. There was no pilot to remonstrate with or wring information from. A highly sophisticated remote-control module guided it to and from Petaybee.

This Simon Furey discovered when he barged past the disembarking pa.s.sengers and attempted to get into the pilot compartment. He'd come prepared with a device that would disable electronic locks, so he got into the forward cabin.

"If I'd had just a little more time, I could have bollixed up the remote so the shuttle couldn't take off again. But it'll come back, won't it? I didn't mess up the panel, like, disabling the lock." He looked at Sean for rea.s.surance.

"As long as whoever's running this show doesn't realize the lock was tampered with... What would you need to bollix the controls?"

Simon grinned. "It don't take so much, really, if you know what to do. I'll have another look through the refuse skips at the s.p.a.ceBase. They're jettisoning an awful lot of useful stuff."

"They are?" Seamus and Adak chorused together.

"Thanks, Simon," Sean said, clapping the older man gratefully on the shoulder. "We'll take any salvage you can hoist."

"Figured."

"Now," Sean said, his expression altering from amus.e.m.e.nt to anxiety, "let's see where we can stash this bunch of pilgrims!" For there were more robed figures huddling in the miserable knot of the disembarked pa.s.sengers. Clodagh was still in the Kilcoole cave with the first bunches of Rock Lovers, or whatever the religious seekers called themselves.

Shannonmouth agreed to shelter the seven who were looking for their families. Nine of the religious had rock and stone names and demanded to be taken to Brothers Shale and Granite. So Sean took them back to Kilcoole to commune with their brothers and sisters. Three more hunters and another drug company representative made up this pa.s.senger complement. They, too, had to come back to Kilcoole, though Sean didn't know where he'd be able to stash them. Now, if Simon should be successful in aborting the transport's return to the Intergal Station, maybe this would be the last group he'd have to worry about. But with winter closing in, he'd have to sort the whole kaboodle real fast. At least the problem of trying to spread the burden of extra numbers on the already stretched economy kept his mind off Yana.

12.

Gal Three

The "unseen eye," aka Charas Parclete, who had been instructed to keep a close one on Yana, had followed the target subject and her escort through the maze and down to the cargo bay area. Since it was obvious the two women were in the company of a more-than-capable-appearing male-and someone the "eye" had better get some gen on if he was to be much in their company-the eye remained covert. In fact, the target subject and her companions were out of sight a good deal of the time, as Charas had to remain unseen. Suddenly there was a bit of confusion ahead, and when the covert watcher moved to a better viewing position, a whiff of the gas wafted across her face. Gagging and trying not to breathe while still attempting to clear her lungs gave the watcher a bit of trouble-especially as the Mayday reached the mastoid implant linked to Marmion's alarm-pad just when the gas effected a very short period of unconsciousness. Struggling to regain full use of her senses, Charas staggered around the crates and cartons and saw only one body on the ground. Pressing the emergency signal for help, she dashed to the body.

"Fat lot of help you were as escort." Charas resisted the temptation to kick the unconscious man for his dereliction of duty. There were other more pressing matters-like following the faint whiff of the gas through the maze of installations and cargo bays. This was a downtime in the cargo bay, when all but the most urgent jobs were suspended. Some ship was being loaded on the far side of the dock, but it might as well have been on another planet as far as crowd protection went. The time had been well chosen. And the abductors had had access to the intramural pa.s.sages that separated cargo areas. Alternately sniffing for the trail of gas and choking on the residue, the eye continued until there was no smell at all. She backtracked to where vestigial traces remained, used her special key to open the panel, and stepped out in a workshop area-empty, of course.

"I must have been out longer than I thought," the operative murmured, keying into the security board in Commander an Hon's office. "Charas here. There's an unconscious man at Sector 45-Z-2, Cargo 30, and Marmion de Revers Algemeine and her guest, Colonel Maddock-Shongili, appear to have been kidnapped."

"What did you say?" did you say?"

Charas sighed and repeated the message.

"Are you sure?" This time it was the commander himself asking.

"Yes. Stop all outgoing vessels."

"No implant messages?"

"Only the Mayday," Charas said grimly.

"We're instigating stop and search procedures."

"Good. First check what was logged in at Bay 30-47-N."

There was a brief pause. "A damaged pleasure yacht to be repaired, with a hole the size of a shuttle..." Some rather inventive cursing followed. "And a Shuttle is registered as pulling out of that sector."

"Have the corvette pick me up here."

"Since it's only a shuttle, can do," said the commander.

"And send someone to collect that idiot who was escorting them." Charas gave the location. "I want a tape of the rescue. First impressions are invaluable. He may know something he doesn't know that we can use."

Charas waited impatiently until the corvette docked at the air lock through which the abductors had taken their victims. There was only the faintest whiff of the gas left.

The Security corvette was fast. Surprisingly, so was the escaping shuttle.

"I don't believe these speeds," the corvette captain said. "Everyone on board must be out!"

"Some of 'em are," Charas said grimly.

The shuttle proved to be nearly as agile in s.p.a.ce as the corvette and led them a chase through the storage pens that circled Gal Three at a distance: anything from recyclable debris to cold storage.

"We'll get the b.u.g.g.e.rs now," the corvette captain said as the shuttle cleared the last of the obstacles. He signaled the helmsman for more thrust, and the corvette steadily gained on the shuttle. "Must have souped-up engines to do this. Halt and prepare to be boarded!" Halt and prepare to be boarded!" he announced over the comm link. he announced over the comm link.

The corvette was matching speed and position, edging closer and closer when the shuttle exploded. The corvette was skewed sideways; any crew member not strapped down to something bounced about like a wad of plastic. The corvette had taken a broadside and would limp back on navigational thrusters alone. But the worst part of it-or maybe it was the best part of it-was that the implant in Charas's mastoid bone had not not rung the death knell of the person she had thought she was about to retrieve from the kidnappers. rung the death knell of the person she had thought she was about to retrieve from the kidnappers.

"That shuttle was a decoy," Commander an Hon told Charas when she got to his office.

"And Stop and Search has produced nothing?" she asked, slumping in the chair an Hon had gestured for her to take. She was very weary, and the effects of the gas, despite a marginal inhalation, could still be felt.

"Not yet, but there were d.a.m.ned near thirty ships leaving Gal Three within the target hour. You're sure Marmion de Revers Algemeine is still alive?"

"Yes." She touched the mastoid bone. "What about that faller?"

"Hmmm, yes," the commander said. "Machiavelli Sendal-Archer-Klausewitch..."

"Say what?"

There was a twitch of a smile on his lips when an Hon repeated the name. "Recently appointed as CEO of a Rothschild's subsidiary based here on Gal Three. Pharmaceuticals, mainly, but with broad powers. I've sent for background gen-an in-depth study, more than was initially received when he was a.s.signed to the Gal Three offices. But let me just play back that rescue tape."

That made Charas sit up and she rearranged her weary body in the conform chair. Such tapes were generally used to affirm treatment on emergency calls, more to protect the samaritan than the victim but helpful in establishing little details when a victim would not be as compos mentis as s/he would like.