Masterminds (9 page)

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Authors: Kristine Kathryn Rusch

Tags: #Detective and Mystery Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Fiction

BOOK: Masterminds
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He looked at Salehi as he said that last. Salehi had thought all the Peyti had trouble once their ships landed, not before landing.

“And here I thought they were coming after us because we’re S
3
,” Salehi said.

“S
3
is well known for its human bias,” Uzvuyiten said. “Which is one reason I am here.”

That sounded accusatory as well. Or maybe Salehi was just feeling sensitive.

S
3
did have a human bias. Most of their cases involved humans, primarily because human law within the Alliance was easier for humans to understand and work around.

“We’d already discussed the Peyti problems.” Salehi didn’t like Uzvuyiten’s tone any more than Wèi had. “You weren’t going to come with us to the Moon. You were going to work from the ship.”

Uzvuyiten shrugged his shoulders again. It looked so odd to see him do that. Schnabby would have said it looked like a coat hanger suddenly took on a life of its own.

Salehi forced his partner’s cutting voice from his mind.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Uzvuyiten said. “You need me.”

“Yes,” Salehi said. “You were going to work—”

“No, my dear Rafael.” Uzvuyiten could sound so unctuous when he wanted to. “We are beginning to understand why the Peyti are having trouble on the Moon. You could protest that, with a bit of understanding. Or we could test the system each step of the way.”

Salehi bit back irritation. He had enough to deal with. He had to plan his case for the Peyti clones, and he had to make certain that the local prosecutor went after Zhu’s murderers. Salehi knew that the Peyti government wanted him to pursue the discrimination against the Peyti that had just started on the Moon, but Salehi believed that the courts weren’t the best venue for the one-on-one discrimination. He was better off using a different strategy, one that included media coverage and the involvement of other species from within the Earth Alliance.

“You really want to do this now?” Salehi asked Uzvuyiten. “Because we have a lot on our plates.”

“We do,” Uzvuyiten said. “But this is part of what we have on our plates.”

“You’re not going to be able to get into Armstrong, no matter how hard you try,” Salehi said.

“Ah, but I will create a record that we can then pursue. Decorated attorney, barred from entry to the heart of the Earth Alliance—which his government is a founding member of. We would have more evidence than we know what to do with, my dear Rafael.”

Salehi hated the way Uzvuyiten was talking to him right now, but he knew that Uzvuyiten was doing it for effect. And it was working, of course, because that was the kind of lawyer Uzvuyiten was—the kind who knew exactly how to irritate the people around him into action.

“We can gather evidence,” Salehi said, “but I can tell you now, Uzvuyiten, I won’t have time to pursue this case, with everything else I have to do.”

Uzvuyiten bowed slightly. “I am aware of that, Rafael. I am also aware that before he was so brutally murdered, Torkild Zhu hired some good lawyers from Earth herself, not to mention a few young lawyers who want to get their hands dirty. I propose to use them to handle this case, not you. Your time is best served handling the clones.”

“You’ll be diverting resources,” Salehi said.

“I’ll be setting up a different side to the same case,” Uzvuyiten said. “Since the discrimination and illegal behavior is starting outside the very entrance to Moon space, I think we’ll have more than enough to do.”

“None of which concerns me.” Wèi spoke for the first time in a while. He’d been watching the interchange. “I want to know how we handle this contact from Armstrong’s Space Traffic Control.”

Salehi normally would have glanced at Uzvuyiten. They would have consulted and figured out the best approach. But Salehi was too annoyed.

Besides, Uzvuyiten had forgotten that he was here as a guest, because the Government of Peyla wanted a Peyti near the clone case. But the Peyti government believed that they couldn’t bring a lawyer here and get a good hearing, and circumstances were already proving them right.

Uzvuyiten could play all the games he wanted with the Port of Armstrong, but that wasn’t going to help the case that interested Salehi the most.

Salehi said to Wèi, “Tell the port that under Alliance law, the passenger composition of an Earth Alliance vessel is protected information. If they are searching for a fugitive or for some kind of contraband material, they may examine the ship and its passengers once we arrive. Otherwise, we have every legal right to enter the Moon’s space, and petition the port for landing.”

Wèi frowned at Salehi. “That’ll piss them off.”

“Fine,” Salehi said. “We’re S
3
. We’re already pissing them off. We might as well remain consistent.”

“You don’t want to play their games?” Uzvuyiten asked.

“We play along, we have no legal grounds to appeal their decision.” Salehi kept his voice calm even though he was irritated. Uzvuyiten knew all of this. “We proceed the way that we would have proceeded before this year. If they want to arrest us, fine.”

“They won’t arrest
us
,” Wèi said. “They’ll arrest
me
.”

Salehi gave him a withering look. “If you’re so frightened,
Captain,
then don’t leave the ship.”

Wèi moved back to his ornate captain’s chair, turning his back to Salehi. “It’s just weird, that’s all.”

“What’s weird?” Salehi asked.

“All of this,” Wèi said. “It’s like we’re leaving the Alliance or something.”

“Indeed,” Uzvuyiten said from the doorway. “Captain, you are onto something.”

Legally, he was onto something, but at the moment, Salehi wasn’t going to agree with Uzvuyiten. Salehi was too annoyed.

He had expected some territorial issues with Uzvuyiten on the various cases. Salehi just hadn’t expected them to start so quickly.

“Let us know if anything else comes up,” he said to Wèi. “Otherwise, I expect to hear from you just before we land.”

“You’re an optimist,” Wèi said.

“No,” Uzvuyiten said. “He’s just going to give me a good talking to.”

“Yes,” Salehi said as he headed toward the door. “I am. We’re going to discuss how S
3
is handling these cases, and how you, as a consultant, can help or hurt us.”

“I am not going to remain on this ship for the duration of your stay here,” Uzvuyiten said. “If you do not like what I’m going to do, then we’ll make that strictly my responsibility.”

Salehi felt his cheeks heat. Uzvuyiten had outmaneuvered him. Uzvuyiten wanted a case that he could handle for himself and the Peyti government without S
3
involvement, and he had just designed it.

As they stepped out of the cockpit, Salehi said, “All right, tell me honestly. This is why the government of Peyla insisted that you consult on the clone case, isn’t it? So that you, one of the most upstanding members of Peyti society, can be denied access to the Port of Armstrong.”

“It’s simply a side benefit,” Uzvuyiten said.

“It’s the point of the entire trip,” Salehi said. “I’m here on a wild-goose chase for your government. The representative of S
3
, who is handling a case that’s a real loser, while the famous Peyti lawyer creates a case all his own, one that he’ll win easily in the Multicultural Tribunals, should things go that far.”

“You give us too much credit,” Uzvuyiten said as he headed down the corridor.

Salehi resisted the urge to grab Uzvuyiten by his thin arm. Salehi was well aware how delicate the Peyti were in comparison to humans. He didn’t want to hurt Uzvuyiten physically, even by accident.

“No, I didn’t give you enough credit at the beginning of this trip,” Salehi said. “I should have seen that your government had a secondary agenda. S
3
is the perfect cover for you people because we’re so well known as a human-oriented law firm.”

“You’re well known as one of the best law firms in the Alliance,” Uzvuyiten said. “And you, Rafael, are known as one of the most creative legal minds of our generation.”

“Flattery and money got you here, Uzvuyiten,” Salehi said. “But you can stop now.”

“My dear Rafael—”

“And you can stop that too,” Salehi said. “I would probably have been quite amused by this situation under normal circumstances. But these aren’t normal circumstances. Zhu’s dead, and the Moon’s a dangerous place for all of us—especially you. You’re a Peyti lawyer. Have you thought that through?”

“Yes, I have,” Uzvuyiten said. “I’m an old Peyti lawyer, with a fantastic reputation all over the Alliance. I’m well liked. If something happens to me here, well, then, it’ll show just how bad things have gotten on the Moon, won’t it?”

Salehi stared at him. “You think they’ll attack you.”

“You think they won’t?”

“I wanted you to stay on this ship for that reason,” Salehi said, “and that was
before
Zhu died. Don’t do this, Uzvuyiten. You’re taking too many risks.”

“And I would say that you’re not taking enough,” Uzvuyiten said. “But I think you are taking risks. The wrong kind.”

“What does that mean?” Salehi asked.

Uzvuyiten shrugged and then made his way down the hall.

“What are you saying?” Salehi asked.

“S
3
On The Moon?” Uzvuyiten said. “Thinking you can ride the backs of a million dead to change clone law? You’re too arrogant, Rafael.”

“I am?” Salehi said. “What about you?”

“We’re talking about my people here, Rafael,” Uzvuyiten said. “That’s not arrogance. That’s survival.”

“The Peyti aren’t threatened,” Salehi said.

“Maybe not at home,” Uzvuyiten said. “But our place in the Alliance is. And I’m here to protect it. Or die trying.”

He continued down the corridor.

Salehi watched him go, and then sighed.

Uzvuyiten seemed to think he could be a martyr to the cause, not realizing they already had one.

Salehi returned to his suite.

He had always known this was going to be an interesting trip. He just hadn’t realized how interesting.

Or how dangerous.

For all of them.

 

 

 

 

TWELVE

 

 

THE SHIP ARRIVED
sooner than Flint had expected.

He had just entered the port when he got the first contact from Murray Atherton of Space Traffic Control.

Your boy just arrived
.

No explosions, then. Flint let out an audible sigh of relief, which made the new kid standing behind the west security entrance look at him with suspicion. To be fair, the new kid behind the west security entrance to the port looked at everyone with suspicion.

The port was no longer the place it had been when Flint worked there just seven years before. It looked older, battered, filthy in a way it had never looked before. All effort had been turned to security, and with that effort, most of the funds, as well.

So cleaning bots had been reprogrammed to sniff out all kinds of toxins and explosives; the human security staff had been beefed up to the point of ridiculousness; and, most disturbing to Flint, the entrances had been set up to separate people by species. Humans had their own entrance, as did the Disty and the Peyti. Other species often were lumped together by size, with little consideration for species tolerance or the way that the species might travel.

Lately, Flint had tried to come to the port as infrequently as possible.

He slipped through the first round of security, which checked him for weaponry and explosives. Ahead, he would have to go through a decontamination unit to make certain he wasn’t bringing any biological hazard into the port, never mind that Armstrong’s environmental systems swept for biological hazards continually, and it would be nearly impossible for someone to bring a known biological hazard—the kind that would cause mass deaths—into the port.

But he wasn’t one of the people making the decisions for the port, and he never had been.

The new kid—whom Flint spotted by his attitude and his creased and shiny uniform—continued to stare at Flint as if he had sprouted horns or something. And then Flint flushed. The kid was looking at Flint because Flint was as blond and pale as the Frémont clones. White skin, blue eyes, and blond hair were recessive traits—a sign of inbreeding, his ex-wife Rhonda had said to him in one of their epic fights—and uncommon in almost all human communities.

Flint tipped an imaginary hat to the kid and kept going, contacting Murray while crossing the expanse between the first check-in point and the second.

Is he out of the ship?

Not yet,
Murray sent.
The suits are going in first.
There’s no identification on his ship, you know. What you sent me, I can’t confirm it by the ship itself
.

That didn’t surprise Flint. He was about to say so when he had to step into the decontamination unit. It was an old unit, clearly moved from the arrival terminals.

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