Price of Ransom (12 page)

“I don’t know,” said Lily, as she realized that it was true. “I never really thought beyond just getting here.”

“We’ll put out an all points,” Scallop said, sounding reassuring. “For the physician. We’ll need a description. But there should be no problem alerting all ships to let us know if he tries to get passage. Diomede is a small Center, after all. He won’t be hard to track down.”

“Well,” replied Thaelisha briskly. “Then I expect, once that’s settled, that you may as well take yourselves to Concord in person. The Mother knows they’ll be interested in your story, and eager to reestablish ties with Reft space. I’m sure min Provoniya can provide someone to discuss the various routes available with your navigator.”

Provoniya nodded.

“Can we meet again later?” Lily asked. “I’d like to return to the
Hope
and discuss this with the rest of the crew.”

“Of course. One can only make such a decision with full input. Perhaps meet here again in”—Thaelisha glanced at Scallop—“Will four hours be enough?”

It was agreed on. Thaelisha and Lily rose at the same time, they all shook hands, and departed.

“Oh, Jenny,” Lily said softly as they walked along the brilliant hub of Diomede Center toward their berth. “Did I do the right thing? Or did I just condemn him, by asking for their help? I feel like I’ve thrown him—” She shook her head.

“What is that old phrase?” Jenny asked. “Thrown to the hounds?” Lily shuddered. Not noticing it, Jenny went on. “Or—wolves? Some kind of animal. I read it on some story tapes once. But what else could you do, Lily? In Reft space, we could hunt him ourselves, but here—”

Her gaze swept their surroundings comprehensively. Pinto walked in front of them. Before him, Scallop, who in an excess of hospitality had delegated himself to show them back to their ship, walked beside the still unforgiving Trey, his daughter back in the sling. The baby had fallen asleep. That was all that was familiar. Everything else …

Humans, of course; they looked the same, except for the exotic way they dressed, a veritable cascade of brilliant colors and bizarre styles. And their age, or better their lack of it; they saw a fair number of children, one single woman who showed signs of aging, but the rest seemed suspended in that eerie limbo of mature adulthood when chronological age can scarcely be guessed.

And twice, they saw totally unknown alien beings so unremarked by the rest of the population that they clearly were not remarkable.

As for the surroundings themselves, they were not so much unrecognizable as just familiar enough to be doubly strange. The berth connections were octagonal and dilating, rather than square. They strolled along a shopping district. Its mottled white walls bore fantastic scenes carved in relief in long, two-meter-high strips, stories told to the eye as one walked: a woman passed through a series of gates, encountering peculiar beasts and sinuously complicated gatherings of people on her way to some unseen goal. Storefronts broke the tale at intervals. Clusters of tables marking busy cafés obstructed it. It was altogether unlike the cobbled-together utilitarian lines of Reft stations, where function superseded any at-tempts at decoration.

“Oh, wait,” said Pinto. Scallop and Trey halted to look at him. He gave Lily a pleading look. “Look at that
fabric
.” He motioned toward a shop. Material lay spread out on tables under a bright striped awning. “Paisley would love it. Can’t we just look for a second?”

“For a second, Pinto,” Lily agreed, aware that she was humoring him because he so rarely showed any sentimental emotions.

Trey, evidently not immune to such riches, followed him. Scallop, with a smile, followed her.

“There,” said Jenny. “Another one. Or maybe it’s the same one I saw before.”

“Another what?” Lily asked, turning to look. Foot traffic eddied around them. Several small driverless carts loaded with packages sped by, deftly avoiding pedestrians.

“That alien. I’ve seen pictures in the story tapes of something like it. Shaped like us, but hairy. What were they called? Except I think they weren’t supposed to be as intelligent as humans. And this one doesn’t look quite right either.
Apes
, that’s it.”

“I don’t see—Oh.” It was half-hidden by a stand of some peculiar green globes that she thought might be fruit. For an instant the creature stared disconcertingly straight back at her with eyes that were just slightly too large to be in proportion to its head. Then it was gone.

“And did you notice the Stationmaster—what is it they call him?—Coordinator? Scallop. One of his arms isn’t tattooed.” Jenny was more animated than Lily had seen her in months. “What do you suppose he meant when he asked Pinto if he was
orthodox
?”

As Lily turned back to answer, someone collided with her. Hard. Instinctively she let her knees absorb the impact, bending slightly, and she spun to face—him.

“Lily!” he exclaimed. “What a surprise to meet you here!”

She had never seen him before. Not much taller than she, he had a rough, unshaven face and a broad chest. He moved to hug her. The gesture was so unexpected that his arms were around her before she reacted.

She dropped, broke his grip, and shoved him away. Jenny went for her gun.

Did not have one, of course. But as her hand brushed her belt in its instinctive draw, another hand grasped hers. Hair tickled her wrist. A strong, musty scent assailed her, and she sneezed.

“Excuse me. This will just take a moment,” said a very, very low, peculiarly gruff voice in her ear.

Lily had dropped to a fighting crouch.

The man facing her sighed. “Make this easy for us both, will you?” he asked, sounding weary. He reached and unclipped a thin slate from his front pocket, held it out to her.

Peripherally, Lily could see that Trey had turned and that her hand too had gone to her belt. Scallop, watching intently, put a staying hand on Trey’s arm. Pinto had disappeared into the shop.

“Legal and signed,” said the man, “Take a look.”

“What is it?” demanded Lily.

“Bounty papers,” he explained, putting on a patient tone as if he did this every day to people far more cooperative than her. “I have legal right from Concord to take you in.”

A single glance to Jenny was signal enough. They both acted at the same time, Jenny to sweep and take down her opponent, Lily to break back and circle.

But one step back took her flat into another body. She did not break the flow of her movement but dipped and spun and punched to its midriff.

Met what felt like steel. Caught a gasp, and went for the sweep.

It was over in moments. She found herself facing Jenny, who was also clasped in the viselike grip of two long, hairy arms, hard against a very broad chest. Hot breath, strong like garlic but not unpleasant, hissed in and out beside her ear.

“Sorry,” said the man. He glanced over at Trey, still standing held back by Scallop. Pinto, startled and alarmed, came running out of the store and halted stock-still, staring at the unfamiliar sight of Lily and Jenny completely subdued. The man grinned, just a little. “Don’t take it bad. You just don’t know their weak points. Can’t take ’em out like you would a human. Hey!” This to Scallop. “You Center personnel?”

Scallop nodded and came briskly forward. Trey followed him, using his body as a shield from behind which she might, perhaps, launch her own attack.

“I don’t want any trouble,” said the bounty hunter. He handed over the slate.

Scallop had only to glance at it briefly. He sighed, heartfelt, and turned to Lily. “I’m sorry, Captain. This is quite legal. My hands are tied. If you have an advocate you wish me to call—” Her expression betrayed her incomprehension of this remark. “No, I don’t suppose you do. I can’t understand how Concord could have—unless your story isn’t true …” He trailed off, clearly at a loss what to believe.

“Come on, boys,” said the bounty hunter. “Pick ’em up and let’s go.”

“But, boss,” said the one holding Lily. “I thought we was only taking in this one.”

The man jerked his head to indicate Jenny. “You want her at our backs? No thanks. Hoist them.”

The two aliens simply picked up Lily and Jenny bodily, as if they were no more than light sacks of food.

“Wait a minute!” began Lily, looking at Scallop. “This is outrageous. What about—”

“Hold on,” said Scallop. “Min—Windsor, is it?” He regarded the bounty hunter with obvious distaste. “You only have license for this woman. I suggest you leave the other with me.”

Windsor hesitated, taking in Scallop’s authority as well as the stiff politeness with which he was being treated. “All right. Fred, move it. Stanford, you wait here. Give us enough time and then release her and follow.” He began to walk quickly, Fred in front of him.

Lily attempted to struggle, but she might as well have tried to bend steel, so she gave it up.

“Captain!” called Scallop after her rapidly receding figure. “I’ll notify Thaelisha.” Foot traffic had ceased, people from all around turning to stare at the scene. “I’ll make sure that …”

But Fred’s smooth, loping gait took her out of earshot before she could hear what Scallop would make sure of.

It did not take long to reach a berth, to enter the ship docked there, and to dump her into a tiny cabin where Windsor efficiently cuffed her hands and feet in some metal tubing.

The hairy Fred sat back on his haunches, resting his long arms on his knuckles, and grinned at her. “You all right?” he asked, friendly. “Sometimes I squeeze too hard.”

“Don’t know your own strength,” muttered Windsor. He finished securing Lily and stepped back to regard her, his mouth a thin, tight line.

“Who the Hells are you?” Lily demanded, glaring at him from her undignified seat on the cabin’s only bunk. She tried to shift to give herself more authority.

“Korrigan Tel Windsor, at your service,” he replied, bowing in a way that suddenly, and bitterly, reminded her of Kyosti. “Bounty hunter, to the polite. I won’t bore you with the other names I’ve been called. This is Fred.”

Fred grinned.

“I have no idea what I could possibly have to do with you—” began Lily, still furious, mostly at the ease with which they had captured her.

“That’s what they all say,” murmured Windsor. “Say.” A spark of interest lit his otherwise jaded eye. “Do you know Gwyn?”

“Gwyn? Who the Hells is—” An unexpected memory of Kyosti back when she first met him, calling Heredes “Gwyn,” struck her with such force that she ceased speaking. Suddenly, surely, convinced that it
was
Heredes he meant.

“Yup,” said Fred succinctly. “The lips always give it away.”

“Wait a minute,” said Windsor, speculative now. “That might explain—I suppose you knew Hawk, too.” His gaze was piercing, touched with suspicion.

“What makes you mention them now?” she asked carefully.

He shrugged, but the gesture was brimful of some other emotion. “I found Hawk hours ago, half out of his mind. I’m not sure he even recognized me. But I paid what I could for short passage on the
Sans Merci
. She was scheduled to break dock about”—he checked a thin band clasped around his wrist—“forty minutes ago. So even if you were after him, he’ll be well clear of Diomede by now.”

“If I were
after
him?” Lily cried. “What have you done?”

“Don’t scold
me
,” Windsor snapped. “Fred, search her.”

Fred’s touch was remarkably light, rather prim, but efficient. He handed Windsor her com-screen, which Windsor took without a word, and finished his search. “Nothing but this, boss,” he said, and flipped out the chain that hung around Lily’s neck, revealing the medallion Heredes had given her.

Windsor stared at it. “Oh fucking hell,” he exclaimed. He whirled and flung himself out of the cabin, leaving Lily and Fred to regard the closed door in silence.

“I
’M SORRY,” THAELISHA PAUSED
to examine the conference room on the
Forlorn Hope
’s gold deck—the room itself more than its six other occupants. “Teak,” she murmured mysteriously, running one hand along the grain of the table’s frame. “Quite remarkable.”

“I don’t understand,” demanded Yehoshua, impatient with her distraction, “how there could be nothing you could do. If you are indeed the local representative of this—what is it called?”

“Concord,” said Pinto.

“Surely you have some authority to override this man’s license.”

“Let me attempt to explain.” She surveyed her audience. Her gaze rested longest on the Mule. Its presence alone, Yehoshua felt sure, had gone far to convince her that their story was true. Much against his own instinct to caution, Yehoshua had given her access to their navigation log, which he did not suppose anyone had yet learned to fake over such a complicated journey.

“Yes, Concord is the administrative center of League space, but each system is autonomous, with its own local government. “Concord resolves intersystem disputes only when such things arise. Its usual task is as an overseer and, again, as an administrative center. Just, as Diomede sends a representative to League Council, which meets at Concord, Concord sends a representative—in this case, myself—to be available to Diomede should they need advice or a negotiator.”

She smiled apologetically around the table. “
That
is the short explanation. I’ll see if I can get you an abbreviated library of League history and law, which ought to help. As it stands, bounty hunters are licensed from Concord as an intersystem covenant to deal with that small element of society which has been declared dangerous Leaguewide. The man’s license and bounty were quite legal.
And
they issued from Concord itself. Now do you see why there was nothing I could do?”

Yehoshua glanced at Jenny. Her face was tight, desperate in a way that it had not been since the days just after Lia’s departure. “But what were the charges?” he asked.

Now Thaelisha looked uncomfortable. “Aiding and abetting a dangerous fugitive. Felony accessory to intersystem flight. The physical description was accurate, but they had part of her name wrong.” She met Yehoshua’s gaze. “It listed her as ‘Heredes,’ not Ransome.”