Crisis On Doona (26 page)

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Authors: Anne McCaffrey,Jody Lynn Nye

BOOK: Crisis On Doona
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Dalkey had only a few nonfilm books on his shelf. One of them was an antiquated economy text. Another was an old, old copy of a novel about a great lover of the fifteenth century. She smiled, wondering if Dalkey considered himself a latter-day Casanova. For lack of better occupation, she began to read.

* * *

“Kelly?” a voice prodded her softly. “Shift’s over.” To Kelly’s drowsing unconscious, the voice was unfamiliar. Alarmed, she shook herself out of a sound sleep and sat up. Dalkey Petersham was looking down at her, smiling. She remembered then where she was: on his couch in his apartment on Earth. The swashbuckler novel was open upside down on her stomach.

“I want you to look at this,” Dalkey said, nudging her over so he could sit down. “Behold the product of many hours of furtive work. I hope you appreciate this. Lucky today wasn’t a busy day.” He handed her a film printout of a residence document. “I’m glad you didn’t want the names and addresses of a whole host of people. It took forever just to get this data. The system hasn’t been debugged since ice covered the Earth. I lived in fear while the computer was processing. I wanted to climb through the screen and bang its little chips together. You’re right, by the way. There is such a man who knows lasers. He is a former felon, by the name of Lesder Boronov. His name’s been changed to Askell Klonski, and he does live in a fancy part of town.”

“Oh, Dalkey, you’re amazing!” Kelly said, devouring the closely typed sheet. “How did you find him?”

“Strange to say, he was in the Spacedep file index, bold as brass. It required a little special jimmying, because it was restricted under the Spacedep privacy seal, but I managed to push my way in.”

“Spacedep?” Kelly asked, staring at him. “Why?”

Dalkey raised his hands helplessly. “Who knows? But only Landreau himself, Commander Rogitel, and a couple of other top brass normally have access to that index. See where it says that he’s been retained for ‘special services.’ Special services covers a multitude of bureaucratic sins.”

“I could cite a few right now. You didn’t have the same sort of luck about his financial records?”

“I couldn’t get more than a credit balance,” Dalkey said with a rueful expression. “My supervisor came by, saw the kind of screen I had up, and said if I was doing my personal banking on Spacedep time I might as well go officially on break. He watched me the rest of the afternoon, but I had all I could access without generating suspicion. He got a fine big credit balance, that Boronov!”

Kelly agreed. “But did he make it the way I think he did ... ?”

“Which is?”

“I don’t want to say it for fear I’m wrong,” Kelly said, not wishing to cross her luck at this juncture. “What are those other printouts?”

“More research,” Dalkey told her with considerable satisfaction. “While I was in the index, I got curious. Do you know that there isn’t just our laser friend here under the seal? There are several people, all listed as performing special, unspecified services, and getting paid hefty hunks of credit. I got to the initial screen, showing their profiles. There wasn’t time to get more, but I’ll look into it when I have half a chance. Rather a lot of them are out on early remission.”

Kelly’s eyes widened. “So Klonski-Boronov isn’t an isolated case. They’ve got a fileful of dirty tricksters.”

“All on file,” Dalkey said, disgusted. “More than I feel comfortable knowing about, too. Makes me more fed up with Spacedep. Codep’s no better. I contacted one of my pals at lunch. He ran a similar check for me in the Codep index. He found something like this there, too, before he got caught accessing forbidden files. As soon as you’re safely off Earth, I’ll bring him to the attention of Amalgamated Worlds Administration as a whistle-blower. They’ll have to take his statement as a public document, so he doesn’t unexpectedly get shipped off to a mining colony.”

“I didn’t intend for anyone to get in trouble,” Kelly said, concerned. But she held tightly on to the film printout Dalkey had given her. It wasn’t full proof, but here in her hands was the beginning of what she needed to clear Todd and Hrriss.

“Not your fault,” Dalkey stated promptly. “There’s more than one of us sick of the corruption. Before they took him away, he managed to get his printout to me. They’re trying to trace down what he was doing and who he saw afterward, but I’ll wait till you’re clear. They have their dirty secrets, but you are my clean one.”

“I’ll keep faith with you, Dalkey.” said Kelly, “as soon as ever I can. But these,” and she shook the printouts, “mean that Todd was right. Landreau is involved and using Spacedep facilities. I can’t take the chance that I’ll get caught before I can get these to an official source. I don’t like mines either.”

She had Dalkey make a call to the Poldep office from a public kiosk, requesting a confidential appointment on matters concerning the Doona Experiment. Kelly prepared to leave as the hour approached. She was surprised to find that she wasn’t as nervous as she had been when she arrived through the grid. In fact, she was almost looking forward to her meeting with a Poldep official.

“As soon as I get more data, I’ll send it out to you,” Dalkey promised. “Meanwhile, you watch out for yourself.”

“I want to thank you, Dalkey,” Kelly said, kissing him on the cheek. “You’ve been a gem.”

“Just don’t forget your promise to sponsor me to Doona,” Dalkey said. “I’m going to be counting on it.” He grinned ingenuously. “If I get caught, I’ll need somewhere to go. Come back if you can or need to. And good luck.”

* * *

It was not unheard-of for informants to request informal meetings with Poldep. Many cases would never have been solved if ordinary citizens, taking advantage of anonymity to protect themselves and their families, couldn’t come forward with incriminating information and data. Few did it with malice, for Poldep could turn an entirely different face toward the prankster. Dalkey had assured Kelly that Poldep wouldn’t pry into her true identity, for that would defeat the purpose of anonymity. Kelly hoped that the immunity extended to no curiosity on how she had travelled to Earth.

The Poldep offices differed from those of the other government services only by the color of their uniforms: black. Even the entry operators, and the officers, bailiffs, and investigators swarming in and out of the main entrance wore black. The color was ominous and off-putting, but she supposed that was intentional.

The big man behind the desk in the little room was not unfamiliar, but he did not appear to recognize her: the hair dye had been a very smart idea. True, she had only seen him from a distance in the halls of Alreldep and once on Doona. They hadn’t actually met. DeVeer made the rounds of his beat periodically in a small, fast-moving scout ship. He had a reputation for being straightforward and honest. Firmly she overcame her feelings of nervousness and gave him her hand. The Poldep captain shook it.

“I’m Sampson DeVeer, miss. What name are you using?”

So the anonymity was genuine. “I don’t know how much you have to know about me to believe what I’m going to tell you,” Kelly said, stalling.

DeVeer gave her a brief smile. “I find the facts often speak for themselves. How about a pseudonym for the time being? That’s not incriminating.”

“All right,” Kelly said boldly, “call me Miss Green.” That was stupid, she admonished herself, but apt. She was green enough in more than name. Imagine blurting out a name so close to her own. But she didn’t really care. Kelly was surprised how calm she felt now that she was facing the Poldep man. She recognized that she was riding the high of success when she had expected none. She was surprising herself. She’d been a dutiful child, a good student, an obedient second on Snake Hunt, and a biddable employee of Alreldep. But now, for her friends’ sake, she was discovering a lot about what she could dare and do.

“What can I do for you, Miss Green?” DeVeer asked.

“You’re familiar with the situation on Doona?” she asked. His eyebrows lowered, and she went on quickly. “I know there’s lots of situations, but I mean the one concerning the Reeve Ranch. And the son, Todd. He’s been accused of horse rustling, smuggling, and entering restricted zones. And you’ve got to believe me when I tell you that he wouldn’t do any of those things. He’s innocent.”

“Ah, yes,” DeVeer said, tenting his fingertips. “I know the circumstances. In fact, I recently had an interview with his father. He had hides bearing freeze marks for his ranch on animals he never owned. The hides had been recycled from Zapata Three with a genuine provenance. Yet he claims the brands have to have been altered.”

“They were! I think I know how it was done,” Kelly blurted. “I mean, I believe I know who could have done it.”

DeVeer’s expression didn’t change, but his moustache twitched. “Tell me more,” he said.

She produced the first of her film prints and put it before him. “This man was paroled from a labor colony and returned to Earth. He’s a laser expert and innovator. His name was Lesder Boronov, but he’s called Askell Klonski now.”

“What makes you think that he involved himself in stock theft? Name changes are not illegal.”

“He might not be involved directly, but he came into a lot of money when he was released,” Kelly said. She produced the printout of Klonski’s credit balance.

DeVeer read over both films carefully and made notes on a pad as he scanned. He glanced at her from under beetled brows. “May I ask where you got these screens?”

“The one about Boronov is from Spacedep sealed files. I ... would like to protect my sources but they are reliable. I expect Poldep would be able to check the information. You can see that Klonski has been paid sums for ‘special services.’ Now”—Kelly swallowed, because she was diving forward into conjecture—“what services could a laser expert do to earn that much money?”

“The matter could be legitimate.”

“Then wouldn’t he be listed in Spacedep’s regular contractor file?” Kelly asked. “Why hide him under the privacy seal? And he’s not the only one.” She showed him Dalkey’s other printouts. “These men are all ex-felons, all received early paroles, and they’re all under similar privacy seals.”

DeVeer didn’t insist that she identify her sources, which was an immense relief to her. She hoped that he thought that she herself was the Spacedep employee who had pulled the files. He read the third set of films with the same focused attention he had read the other two. Partway through the first page, he pulled over his computer terminal. He spent some minutes entering data and looking from the screen to the printouts. Then he became engrossed, fingers stabbing at function keys, tapping out new requests. Kelly sat with her hands clutched in her lap, her eyes pinned on the Poldep investigator.

“Interesting,” he said, looking up at her after nearly an hour. He leaned back in his chair, tented his fingertips together again, and fixed his keen gaze on Kelly.

Kelly leaned across the table. “Then you believe me? Can you find out if Klonski does have a way to alter the freeze-dry brands?”

The chief investigator smiled thinly under his moustache. “I’ll try to help you, Miss Green, but I have only your suspicion, based on hearsay, that this Klonski might—just might—be involved in illegal activities. Even if he admitted to developing such a process, that wouldn’t automatically clear your friends. They could have made use of his ‘special services’ as easily as anyone else. In
fact, some of that large sum in his credit account could have been paid in by them.”

“But they didn’t. They didn’t!” In
her frustration, Kelly banged her fists on his desk. “Why would he be in the Spacedep files if that bunch didn’t use his ‘special services’? And you surely don’t think they’d let him take outside contracts!” DeVeer smiled at that remark. “This is the first real evidence to support my friends’ innocence. Won’t you help me prove it? Please! There’s really a lot at stake!”

DeVeer tapped his fingertips together. “Yes, I will have to initiate an investigation. Not necessarily on your friends’ behalf, for some of those charges do not lie in my jurisdiction. But rustling does. The problem of stock theft has recently trebled. New worlds are desperate for all kinds of stock, not just horses. Every animal must be marked and records kept of inoculations to prevent the spread of disease, and to be sure that livestock is protected against any indigenous problems on their destination planet. But if the marks can be skillfully altered, then our very complex disease control system has been bypassed. That can’t be allowed to happen, especially on an increasingly larger scale. One of my priorities is putting an end to illicit traffic in livestock.”

“Then Doona isn’t the only planet to have trouble with rustlers?” Kelly asked.

“Unfortunately, it isn’t. But you may just have brought me the tip I’ve needed.”

He smiled at her, and his face changed from an austere mask to that of a warm and charming man. “If this Klonski has an illegal means of altering brand marks, I can help you clear your friends at least of that charge. And Klonski is on parole?” DeVeer sat up and entered the identification number from the film into his computer console. “Yes, he is. The creation of a process used for illegal purposes is a parole violation. That can land him right back on a penal colony world, with or without Spacedep approval. I see he’s due for a meeting with his parole officer, should have met with her yesterday. Didn’t show. That gives me the right to have a few words with him.” DeVeer stood up, indicating the interview was at an end.

“May I come along?” Kelly pleaded. The chief considered the question for a long moment.

“It is not necessary for an anonymous accuser to face the defendant prior to a hearing. In fact, it could be dangerous.”

“Look, Mr. DeVeer,” Kelly began earnestly, “I’ve risked a lot to lay this information before you. It might even be dangerous for me to go back out into Aisle and Corridor if anyone guesses where I’ve gone. If I’m with you, I’m safe.”

“I could arrange for protective custody for you ...”

“Mr. DeVeer, I only feel safe in your presence,” she said firmly.

He considered her argument. “It is certainly not regular procedure.”

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