Fall of the White Ship Avatar (39 page)

Circe Minx reflected on how the folks on Damfino would be disappointed if a local gal got herself beat by some overmuscled runt three quarters her size. She tried fingers to Standing Bear's eyes, but he buried his head against her and his chest, and tightened his grip, making Alacrity groan in agony.

The sound of that explained why Standing Bear didn't detect Floyt, who was staggering his way. Floyt half knelt, half fell across Standing Bear's back, swung two hands wide, and brought them in to strike at both sides of the huge man's neck. Standing Bear batted him away with a brief snarl. Floyt was knocked back, dropping the two autostyrettes he'd snatched at random from the injector kit.

Bit by bit, Circe felt the machinelike pressure slacken. She was careful to push the thick arms loose without exerting more pressure on Alacrity, who was out. Floyt was trying to get to his feet, to help, file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20krui...%20-%20Fall%20of%20the%20White%20Ship%20Avatar.htm (198 of 242)23-2-2006 17:03:14

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without much success.

Gentry Standing Bear was unconscious, but his eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. And, whoever the man was, he
liked
violence; Circe could see that clearly from a certain very pronounced physiological response he'd had to the fight, one that was visible through the chauffeur's uniform.

"Langstretch, all right," Circe pronounced a short time later. She was examining the injector kit. Floyt and Alacrity had come around and didn't appear to have any serious injuries. But they were a bit dopey and a lot shaken.

"Yeah; I think I've been using his bunk inboard the
Whelk,"
Alacrity said, kneading his scalp. "What'd Ho shoot him up with?"

Circe squinted at the markings on the two empty styrettes. "Some sort of hypnoblank, looks to me. The fella 'pears to have a clean slate, here."

True enough. Standing Bear hadn't moved or done a thing since Floyt got the twin dosages into him. He simply sat on the floor, gazing off into space, mouth hanging open, a little saliva falling off his chin in a thread every so often.

"Hey, buddy! Close your mouth!" Circe said. Standing Bear did.

"I think I know what this stuff is," Alacrity concluded. "This ex-Langstretch agent, Victoria, told me about it back on Blackguard. This guy is a wipe, all right. Complete personality dump."

"Well, whatever it was, it wasn't what he was going to use on
us,"
Floyt said, tending a bump on his head with an iced towel. He was holding the styrette Standing Bear had been about to use on him when Circe showed up. "This thing has the same markings as that other concoction Victoria showed us, Alacrity—that conversational elixir? At least Langstretch isn't trying to execute us outright these days."

Alacrity drew a sharp breath in pain, rubbing his sides. "Circe, we got you into something a lot more dangerous than we—"

"Ferget it," she said flatly. "Ah need a little voltage every now and then, or ah git bored and borin'. Let's git goin'."

Floyt gestured to Standing Bear, whose eyes were wide and childlike. "What about the Golem?"

Circe, fists on hips, looked Standing Bear over. "
Fearsome
little runt, h'ain't he? Y'know, think ah'll jes'

bring him along."

"That'll confuse somebody," Alacrity said. "Okay, go get your stuff and we'll take the limo."

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"Haven't got much; didn't bring much important junk along with me. Ah'll be right back."

But when Circe returned with a tote bag over her shoulder, she found Alacrity in front of the commo terminal and Floyt looking worried. "The limo's locked down with some code that this fellow is in no condition to tell us," Floyt said, meaning Standing Bear. "And the hotel sounds like it's in on it; they won't permit any more vehicles to land here."

A severe-looking woman in police-brass uniform was gazing out at Alacrity from the commo display.

"And since your vessel, the
Lightning Whelk,
has turned up on the Wants and Warrants Network, I'm afraid we'll need to speak to you in some detail before we can allow you to move her."

"But I'm an Interested Party, and the board meeting's been called! And you know that! You have no right to hold me!" The set-jaw tone was clear in Alacrity's voice.

Her smile wasn't very merry. "But we're not holding you. We are merely impounding your vessel, although"—her mouth gave a tug—"you may have a little trouble getting up to the White Ship. And, of course, your problems with your hotel bill are your own affair. Besides, I'm not at all convinced the holder of a single share is any great shakes as an Interested Party, are you? But be that as it may, I'm sure we can have all this straightened out in a few days."

"
Days
!" Alacrity hammered his fist to cut the link and whirled on Floyt and Circe. "By that time the meeting'll be over and the cops'll be able to arrest me!"

"Us," Floyt corrected mildly. He closed the reloaded Webley—six full chambers this time—with a loud
snap
of the barrel catch. "And if we try to go through the lobby we run into the opposition?"

Alacrity nodded. "Bet on it." He'd recovered the Captain's Sidearm and was buckling it on.

"And how'd the law come to know how many shares you own?" Circe asked him. "That's supposed to be confidential company info, no?"

"It is unless somebody's got it in for you," Alacrity said despondently.

"Well, I'll jes' call another limo on
my
terminal and we'll get you up to that White Ship in my yacht, the
Tramp-Royal
," she said.

But hotel service wouldn't cooperate with her any more than it had with Alacrity. The excuse this time wasn't credit problems but rather difficulties with the hotel's defensive systems; the management was terribly sorry, but anything that flew close to the Imperial Domain tower—and, by implication, from it—

was liable to be shot down.

Circe cut the link with a curse. "They want to make sure you don't get out of here no way 'cept down.

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That lobby
must
be covered."

Not the cops.
Alacrity thought, chin on fist.
They'll most likely stand back and let Langstretch do the
dirty work.

"What about the service transport systems, or the utility shafts?" Floyt proposed.

"Uh-uh," Circe vetoed. "How many times d'you think somebody's tried 'em over the years? I expect they're covered, besides which they'd be a little cramped for me, and you're gonna need me to get
Tramp-Royal
into the air.
Shoot
! Damfino gals're s'posed to be able to look after their men by theirselves, but … What about if I hire us some private security to come get us?"

"I'm not sure who we could trust," Alacrity decided. "Langstretch has an awful lot of pull. They might co-opt or scare away hired muscle from some other—hey! Lemme at that commo terminal! We'll give

'em a crowd scene they won't forget!"

"Could be tapped," Circe cautioned about the terminal. "But I've got a scramble relay link. Use that."

Circe opened the link and handed over the ornate proteus she carried in armlet configuration.

Alacrity took it. "If this works, get ready for some jostling."

The three stepped out of the lift from Circe's suite right on the dot, Alacrity resettling his warbag and brolly. In an effort to spread the enemy thin and by dint of a lot of last-second dashing around, they'd managed to dispatch or summon various service carriers, chute skids, and cargo whisks from both suites at just about the time they started down.

There seemed to be a fair amount of bustle in the lobby—deliveries and early-morning check-ins, and the coming and going. But there were also more bellhops and service staff than usual; Alacrity and Floyt spotted at least two members of the security crew from the day before.

The threesome stepped out of the rotunda carefully. Heads turned to them, but that was only natural; Floyt and Alacrity stood in their distinctive outfits alongside Circe Minx, who was decked out in a high-fashion traveling ensemble and a battle jacket. Behind them, vacant looking but frightening, obedient as a robot, came Standing Bear. They'd cleaned him up as best they could, dressing his wounded hand and the forehead gash. Several bystanders, seeing him, exchanged troubled glances.

It was Alacrity's theory that the Langstretch people and hotel security would be disinclined to shoot in the lobby. He was also hoping that they would presume, at least for a while, that Gentry Standing Bear, as the giant's I.D. gave his name, had the situation under control. Besides, the opposition was under the impression that Alacrity and company had been isolated.

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The lobby was a long, long way across, and the ambushers would have insured that escape routes were all dead ends. The enemy could afford to wait a bit before making its move, do things as nonviolently as possible. At least, that was the way Alacrity had things figured, and Circe agreed. If the stunguns, dazzle beads, blitzgas, and whatnot came into play, there'd be nothing to do but fight, and most likely lose.

As they moved across the lobby, the three, followed by Gentry Standing Bear, registered the various crews—opposition disguised as guests, servants, and the rest. Floyt found himself sweating, and his mouth was dry.

C'mon, c'mon,
Alacrity urged silently, praying the timing was right. Then he saw it.

A shrouded neo-Coptic Elder, his wives and harem guards and family and votaries, all on their way to register, suddenly threw open their robes. Their rich luggage was opened to reveal some kind of gleaming hardware.

It was sophisticated recording and transmitting gear, portable lighting and such. One of the "wives" was the little scandalhawk from the day before, Salome Price.

Chattering a running commentary, Salome rushed up aiming an aud-vid pickup as lights converged on them. "This is your Uncensored Network correspondent, Salome Price, coming to you live from the lobby of the hotel Sceptered Isle, with an exclusive scoop on the newest twist in the troubled and tormented love life of the undisputed sex goddess of the Third Breath, Circe Minx!

"Circe! Mistress Minx! Do you have any comment to the hundreds of millions of fans
who are watching
you at this moment
? Can you tell us your feelings about your sudden elopement with these two firing studs, Citizen Hobart Floyt of Terra and Master Alacrity Fitzhugh? Does this mean you recant your denunciation of lifelong relationships?"

"That's how it looks, doesn't it, sugah?" Circe responded, batting lashes eight centimeters long and tossing her rainbow-shimmering hair.

"Citizen Floyt, can you tell our viewers how long you've been intimate with Circe? Where did you meet?

And would you tell us, please, when you knew that it was going to be love forever?"

"Er, that is, urn, it was all rather abrupt, but I've been an ardent admirer of Miss Minx's—uh, Circe's—

for some time now, I would say—"

The three, flanked by Standing Bear, were in the middle of a growing crowd of gossipghouls, tech crews, and support personnel, augmented by gaping bystanders who were only beginning to realize something extraordinary was going on. Security crews and Langstretch field ops were gazing at one another in confusion, not sure what action to take in the middle of a live broadcast being watched by file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20krui...%20-%20Fall%20of%20the%20White%20Ship%20Avatar.htm (202 of 242)23-2-2006 17:03:14

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hundreds of millions of fans.

Salome pounced again, "Master Fitzhugh, what will you say to Heart Dincrist, the so-called Nonpareil, with whom you were reputed to be engaged in a torrid love affair?"

"Something real brief and truncated, I bet."

More media teams had come out from under wraps and disguises: a portly woman who turned out to be an aud-vid director and whose children were actually commo-link specialists. A hotel security woman and her partner made a tentative move to stop the interview, but two large Utopian business moguls suddenly reverted to a pair of strongarm men from the network's own security department. A strangely silent scuffle broke out, neither team wanting to attract attention.

Chauffeurs and guests and valets revealed themselves to be Uncensored Network people, numbering dozens. A protective ring was formed around Salome, Circe, Floyt, Alacrity, and Standing Bear as they were convoyed across the lobby, Salome keeping up a constant barrage of questions. All around them, muted, furious engagements were being fought, with everyone trying to avoid involving innocent guests.

Salome was trotting to keep up. "Circe, do you plan to repeat the kind of formal, planet-mobilizing celebration you had for your bonding to Blix and Frix and Strix Bledsoe?"

"Darlin', ah'm jes' a country girl at heart, so ah think we'll keep it simple!"

Salome's face clouded. "But as I've been telling our viewers, the Uncensored Network has rights to exclusive coverage of this romantic surprise story of the year, isn't that right?"

The lobby doors were getting closer. Circe's smile was frozen and staplegunned into place. "Why, hon, y'all kin come to the
consummation
if you h'ain't doin' nothin' more
interestin'
that evenin'!"

"And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen! Proof once again that the Uncensored Network brings you the biggest stories first, best, and at their most intimate! Citizen Floyt! Do you plan to have children right away?"

"If we don't get out of this lobby soon, it's more likely to be
kittens
," Floyt confided.