Diamond Star (56 page)

"The holdup isn't ours," she said. "Allied Space Command won't let us act against Tarex without evidence. Gods, Del, that's risking a major diplomatic crisis. They'll insist on proof."

"The hell with ASC," Del said. "Don't tell them."

Cameron stiffened. "Are you asking me to hide information from my commanding officers?"

Del balled his hands into fists. "So you're going to stand by while Tarex tortures Staver?"

"Del, listen," Tyra said. "We aren't going to just stand by. But we have to work with the Allieds. And we don't know that Tarex has Staver."

"He does." Del had no doubts. Staver was trying to reach him. It was why Del's bliss session had turned into a nightmare about what the Aristos had done to his family. Because Staver was enduring the same.

Then it hit Del. "I know where Tarex has him! Staver tried to tell me last night. I kept hearing "No Answers." Except it wasn't right. I was trapped in the crypt. The cryo womb. That's where Tarex has him! In a tomb."

They all just looked at him. Finally Jud spoke uncomfortably. "You've been spending a lot of time in the bliss--"

"I'm not imagining this!"

"You had a bad night," Cameron said.

"No!" Del said. "I know what I'm talking about."

"What he's saying is more likely than it sounds," Tyra told them. "Psions can sometimes pick up what other psions experience if they know each other, and it can happen more in the virt because it relaxes Del's mind."

"It doesn't make sense," Jud said. "Why would Tarex put him in a crypt? And what crypt?"

They all looked at Del.

"I don't know," Del admitted.

Tyra worked on her gauntlet, running through displays on its screen. "Tarex's ship is still in dock. So are his Escort ships. In fact, no Trader ships have left any local starport in the past two days."

Del didn't ask how she knew so many details about private Eubian citizens. She wouldn't tell him in front of witnesses. He just said, "He could have left in secret."

"I doubt it," Cameron said. "It's not easy to sneak a ship off-planet, even for an Aristo."

"Especially for an Aristo," Tyra said. "Right now, everyone and his mother is monitoring Tarex."

Del hesitated. Was he mistaken about the crypt and his bliss session? "Maybe I'm just mired in my own imagery."

Tyra's voice gentled. "Only an artist would describe it that way."

Del blinked. It was odd to hear his brother's hand-picked officer call him an artist, especially as if it was a compliment. "Maybe the crypt is how my mind interprets something else."

"A cargo hold?" Cameron asked.

Del hesitated. "Possibly."

"A starship cold storage unit!" Tyra said. "Those things look like tombs."

"But Staver would freeze to death," Del said. "Tarex will want him alive."

"Maybe they didn't activate the unit," Jud said.

Del felt ill. The storage units on star-yachts weren't that big. A man Staver's size would barely fit. "We have to go to the port before it's too late. Tarex could leave any time."

Tyra crossed her arms. "You're going home."

Del banged his fist on the porch rail. "I'm the strongest empath here, and I have more connection to him than any of you. I can sense his mind, but I have to be closer."

"That may be," she said. "But you aren't visiting Tarex."

Del stalked away, across the porch, then spun around to her. "All right. I won't. But let me go to the port. I might be able to tell you more. The closer I get to Staver, the better. I was going to go tomorrow anyway, for my trip home."

His bodyguards exchanged glances. Cameron said, "Our precautions against Tarex are already in place."

"I can go there to change my flight," Del said. "I have to anyway, since I'm doing the July Fourth concert tomorrow."

Tyra put her hands on her hips. "No one goes to the port for that. You could use any console."

"Yeah, but I'm a holo-rock singer." Del crooked a smile at her. "Everyone knows we're weird, right? I can ask questions as strange as I want, and people won't blink. I'm good at playing the temperamental, impulsive rock star."

Jud gave him a sour look. "That's because it fits you so well." When Del glared, he held up his hands. "Hey, I'm agreeing with you."

Tyra considered Del. "I assume you won't argue if we decide you need to leave."

"Not a single protest," Del promised.

Her knock came at his mind.
Del?

He lowered his shields to let her see he meant it.
I'll behave.

Tyra let out a breath. "All right. We'll try it."

XXIV: Port Reckoning

The Thurgood Marshall Interstellar Starport, also known as BWI, or Baltimore-Washington Interstellar, had an entire department devoted to dealing with wealthy clients. As star travel had shifted from the military to the commercial sector, corporations had leapt into existence solely to take money from rich people who wished to play among the stars.

"I don't want it housed outside," Del growled at the fellow showing him around the area reserved for star-yachts. "Rain is bad for the finish."

"The finish?" The man, Reginald Wharton, worked for Centauri Travel. "On a yacht?" He was a paragon of courtesy, but his reaction to them leaked past his natural mental protections. He thought Del was a kook. A trendy kook, though. His other clients never showed up in black leather pants with chains hanging off them, a black T-shirt with laser-light rivets holding together the seams, leather boots, and a belt of starship ring fittings.

"That's right." Del brandished his smart-mug of deluxo-java. When Wharton had offered it to him, Del had insisted he have some, too. So now their guide carried a cup of deluxo. So did Jud, who walked on Del's other side. Tyra and Cameron strode with them, minus the java. Wharton didn't seem the least surprised that Del came with bodyguards. Given the clientele he served, he probably saw guards hulking about all the time.

"I don't want scratches on the hull," Del told Wharton.

"No scratches?" Wharton looked bewildered. "You mean on a starship?"

Del glowered at him. "Yeah,
my
starship."

"We can arrange any type of docking area you like," Wharton assured him. "Indoors, outdoors, underground."

"But can you protect the finish?" Del insisted. He felt Tyra struggling not to laugh at him. Every ship took a beating from the cosmic ray flux in space and whatever else spun, floated, or radiated out there. Only a nut would try to preserve the finish. It was a little annoying how easily he convinced Wharton he was an eccentric, but it let him ask nosy questions without looking suspicious.

"Nothing will harm your ship in our facility," Wharton told him. "And if it's damaged in space, we can see to its upkeep."

"Good," Del said. "Can't have a cheap-looking yacht."

"No, absolutely not," Wharton said.

"I'd like to look at the docking areas," Del said. "To see if they match the yacht I'm buying. I don't want your decor to clash with my ship."

Wharton spluttered his sip of deluxo.

"You all right?" Del asked.

"Uh, yes. Yes, certainly." Wharton took a monogrammed cloth out of his pocket and wiped his mouth. The cup cleaned itself, absorbing the splattered java. Then Wharton indicated a gleaming white corridor that veered to the left. "This way, please."

Del walked with him, looking around, presumably to see if the decor clashed with anything. Mentally, he reached out, searching for Staver. He picked up a flicker, but nothing definite. He needed to be closer.

"I'm considering buying a yacht in the Dieshan line imported from the Skolians," Del said.

Tyra made a choked sound, and Del barely restrained himself from glaring at her. Yeah, all right, Diesha served as a military headquarters. Kelric's commanders there were about as likely to make yachts for rich playboys as they were to pull out their teeth without an anesthetic. But it was the first place that came to mind. So Del gave Wharton his best smile and added, "You've heard of them, of course."

"Ah--yes, of course." Wharton cleared his throat.

"Good. Then you know how to house Skolian yachts."

Wharton blinked. "It's different than housing Allied yachts?"

Del stopped smiling. "You don't know how to look after the ships in your care?"

"We do, yes, certainly," Wharton said quickly. "We have the best facilities on the Eastern Seaboard."

Del scowled at him. "Maybe I'd better see these facilities for non-Allied ships."

"We have several Eubian ships in dock," Wharton said. "We can look at that docking area if you wish."

Tyra shot a warning glance at Del. Damn it! She didn't want him near the ships.

It's safe,
he thought.
I'd know if Tarex was here. I'd feel it.

No,
she answered.

Why not?
he thought, frustrated.
Even if he was here--which he's not--what could he do? Just grab me? I don't think so.

Her gaze had turned steely.
The answer is no.

Del gritted his teeth. If he pushed, she would make him leave the port.

"I don't want to go close," Del said grudgingly. "Just see the place."

Wharton let out a breath. "I'll be glad to take you."

It didn't surprise Del that Wharton looked relieved. The last thing he probably wanted was a whacko rock star bothering the other clients.

A carpeted fast-walk whisked them down glowing corridors, past panels that showed holos of local attractions. When they came around the corner, Del found himself staring at a life-sized holo of himself wailing one of his songs from
Starlight.

"Hey!" Jud laughed at his side. "Man, they'll put up any crackpot's picture."

Del glared at him. "Ha, ha." He could feel Wharton holding back a laugh. Bah.

"Right this way," Wharton said, escorting them off the walk.

They went under an archway of blue flexi-glass with lights darting within it like fireflies. It opened into a cavernous docking bay. Everything was gigantic, including the serrated doors and the clamps to hold ships. It looked like all the other docking bays Del's family used, but from what he had gathered about the commercial liner he had planned to take tomorrow, most ships docked outside a building, in far less protected areas.

Wharton brought them out on a platform that overlooked the bay. Del rested his hands on a metallic rail at its edge. In the distance, two Eubian Escort ships flanked a golden yacht. He reached outward with his mind, but he picked up only the people around him. Jud was having the time of his life watching Del make an idiot out of himself. Even Cameron and Tyra were amused, at least as long as Del stayed here, away from the Eubian ships.

Del reached out, searching, searching, searching . . .

Pain!

He slammed up his mental barriers so fast, he staggered and lost his balance. As he lurched to the side, Tyra caught his arm, and Cameron put a hand under Del's other elbow.

"Mister Arden, are you all right?" Wharton asked.

"F-fine," Del said. "I had a--"
What?
"A lot to drink last night." It was a weak excuse given that he could easily afford the nanomeds that would cure a hangover. But he couldn't think of anything else.

"Can I get you anything?" Wharton asked. "We have an excellent lounge for patrons. You can relax, put up your feet."

"Yeah. Ultra." Del straightened up. "Thanks."

A mental knock came at Del's mind. Taking a breath, he eased down his defenses.
Tyra?
he thought.

What happened?
she asked.

Someone is here. In Tarex's yacht. In pain. Terrible pain. I think it's Staver. I recognize his mind.

Damn. That probably means Tarex is there.

I didn't feel an Aristo.

"Mister Arden?" Wharton asked.

Del nodded unevenly to him. "Lead on."

As Wharton escorted them though the port on a fast-walk, Tyra thought,
If Tarex isn't there, he has no reason to leave Staver in pain.

Tarex probably isn't the only person with Aristo genetics on those ships.

You aren't going to stay here,
Tyra told him.
We're leaving.

Del stiffened.
Don't pull that authoritarian crap on me.

You listen to me, Del,
she thought.
If you blow off every person who reminds you of your brother, you'll get killed. You gave your word not to argue, and I expect you to abide by that.

Was his resentment of Kelric that obvious? Del let out a breath.
All right.
Then he raised his barriers.

"Maybe it's better if I go home," Del told Wharton. "Thanks for the tour. I'll be in touch."

"Please do." Wharton handed him a glossy cube that fit into Del's palm. "That has my contact info, as well as displays about Centauri Travel. Feel free to comm me anytime, day or night."

"Thanks." He had to admit, Wharton did his job well. Del thought he might really buy a yacht; they had good facilities here, and it would make seeing Chaniece and the boys easier than if he took commercial flights. But he had a more important matter to settle first. Tyra expected him to leave Staver trapped in agony.

Del couldn't do it.

Jud paced the Centauri Lounge, restless and unsettled. "What's taking so long?"

"They've only been gone a few moments," Tyra said. "Even Del can't go to the bathroom that fast."

"I suppose," Jud said. He never knew what to make of Tyra. She wasn't anything like the women he knew. She looked feminine, but he had the feeling she could kill without blinking.

"Something about this doesn't feel right," Jud said.

Tyra tapped her gauntlet comm. "Cameron, are you with Del?"

His voice came out of the gauntlet. "Yes. Why?"

"Just checking." She sent Jud a questioning look.

"Del wouldn't screw around," Jud said. He wanted to convince himself as much as Tyra. "Especially not when we have that huge concert tomorrow night."

"Then why are you worried?"

He grimaced. "I'm always worried about Del."

"You don't usually bring it up." She took off across the lounge, striding toward the entrance to the men's bathroom.