Sliding Scales (28 page)

Guiding the cart through the dimly lit night corridors of the administrative compound, he made his way to the destination he had chosen. It was only by good fortune that he knew the personal code-key that unlocked the door of the workplace he had chosen. Once inside, he settled on a storage closet as the temporary resting place of the meddlesome junior administrator. Removing the corpse from the cart, he dumped it unceremoniously inside. That done, he exited the location, but not before reentering the locking code on the doorway to seal the
workplace behind him. The cart he returned to the location where he had found it.

Then, much relieved in mind and soul, he left the administration center and made his way back to his private apartment. After spending a few busy timeparts planning out the next day's activities, he then retired contentedly to his sandy divan, where he entered without turning or tossing into a sleep that was calm, sound, and without remorse.

Arriving at the compound the following morning and preparing to pass through Security, he remarked to the last guard who was checking him through that the workers striding back and forth in the main corridor appeared to be in an unusually garrulous mood.

“You have not yet heard the news, then, Honored Adminisstrator?” the guard asked, punctuating the query with a third-degree gesture of personal unease.

“Apparently not,” Takuuna replied, though he had more than a slight suspicion as to the nature of the news the guard was about to impart.

The sturdily built younger nye's reply was a hiss-filled mixture of indignation and disbelief. “A good nye wass found murdered. Right here, inside the compound.” His disbelief was plain.

“Murdered, truly?”

“Truly.” The guard added a gesture of second-degree astonishment.

“Doess the Authority have any idea who might be ressponssible? Vsseyan extremisstss, perhapss?”

A simple, unrated gesture of negativity. “I undersstand that they are holding a ressearcher named Geelin for quesstioning, as the body of the unfortunate wass found in her place of work. I hear that the female vigoroussly professess her innocence, and that her reactionss appear
to be clouded by bewilderment. Thosse sseeking the truth of the tragedy are as yet unconvinced.”

Takuuna voiced and gestured sadness. “It iss regrettable to think that while attempting to pressent a more civilized example to our primitive hossts we can sstill ssuffer ssuch foolisshness among oursselves.”

As he passed the administrator through, the guard gesticulated glum agreement.

Takuuna was not so cold that he did not feel a twinge of guilt for what he had done. Regrettably, he'd had no choice. Saddled with a body in need of quick disposal, he had proceeded as expeditiously as circumstances had allowed. One could wish that the resourceful and intelligent Geelin would be able to extricate herself from the awkward situation into which he had cast her. He hoped so. He would enjoy mating with her again. If not, well, the list of females available to someone with his present status was extensive. He did not expect to lack for company. He would move on.

But before he could continue to expand upon his personal as well as his professional life, there was a certain small snag that needed to be dealt with, a persistent irritation, like a scale parasite, that needed to be removed. To accomplish the necessary excision he requisitioned a force of six armed troopers and a suitable aircar. In proceeding, he was exceeding his mandate from the Authority and thereby risking censure. He was prepared to deal with the potential consequences, gambling they would not be too severe. In any event, while his superiors deliberated the matter of possible punishment, the human, his story of survival, and any accusations he might be prepared to level would be rendered moot.

Takuuna was confident in his ability to survive the aftermath of his actions. If the worst threatened to befall, he could always remind them of his irreplaceable brilliance
by ordering the arrest of the one Vssey now known to be involved in the violent acts that had been perpetrated against the AAnn presence. The Administrator did not want to do that since it would mean the end of his special unit and the unique status that came from heading it. But the lever was there, if needed, and he could always push it.

Besides, how severely would any fellow nye really want to punish him for the killing of a human?

Gathering his small strike force, he departed Skokosas in high spirits and with the requisitioned aircar operating under a privacy seal, the latter a precaution so that no one could, should they suspect his intent, get in contact with him until he returned. His penitence over the framing of his mating partner Geelin receded as steadily as each new patch of Jastian landscape flew past beneath the aircar.

Softly hissing sorrow, a mournful Yuuvab DDMWWLG let her eyes linger as they roamed over the remnants of her mating partner's short life. There wasn't much. Work attire, casual attire, personal entertainment blocs, the well-strummed, thick-stringed tharp with which he used to serenade her prior and subsequent to their ritual skirmishing, and very little else. There was no reason for there to be more. As transients in a non-Imperial world, Authority staff brought with them only the minimum deemed necessary to manage life. Joofik had been no exception.

Of similar mind, taste, and hopes, they had considered making permanent their traditional intermittent mating. Now that had been reduced to dream ashes, perhaps by the awful individual Geelin, who continued to steadfastly deny any involvement in the junior administrator's death. It did not matter whether the other female was responsible or not, Yuuvab reflected. Her mating partner was dead.

Riffling through his belongings, she looked for anything that especially reminded her of him. As principal, though not exclusive, mating partner of record, she legally had first choice. No one would deny her that. As already noted, there was little to choose from. Sorting through the small stock of entertainment cubes, she picked out a couple that they had enjoyed together. Little enough to remind one of a dead companion.

She was about to leave when she remembered the special compartment. It was a secret place, Joofik had told her. Sharing knowledge of it with her had been a sign of his true commitment. At the remembrance, she hissed so long and hard that she abraded her tongue against her front teeth.

Located behind a small illumination plate and designed to look like a backup power supply, the small private container held very little. Some semi-valuable items of personal adornment, which she immediately and without reservation pocketed in her carry-pouch; a few examples of dried Jastian flora, which she ignored; and a single entertainment cube. No, she corrected herself as she examined the nail-shaving–sized storage device: a data cube. She took it as well.

Looking around as she prepared to leave the apartment chamber for the last time, her gaze fell once more on the unfortunate Joofik's cube translator. It being a cheaper model than her own, and older, she had chosen to leave it for the next certified scavenger. But it provided an excuse not to depart just yet.

Seating herself before the player and settling her tail in the chair slot behind her, she slipped the data cube into the compact player. The information it contained was security-coded, of course, but she knew the code well. She and Joofik had shared much. Images appeared in the air before her, as fleeting as the memory of her lost friend.

There was a diary. She would save that for reading later, when she was emotionally better equipped to deal with such lost intimacy. There were details of personal life that did not fit within a diary's parameters. There were credit account records, tending, as they did with the majority of transients, to the positive. Could she access them? It was certainly worth a try. The boost to her account would be most welcome.

And then, squeezed in among the other recorded inconsequentialities, there was a singular file boldly designated “Vsseyan Activities Directed Against the Imperial Presence on Jast—a Solution.” She nearly thought to put it aside, too. On a whim, she decided to skim the initial scribings—and found she could not stop.

Extraordinary! Why had she not yet heard anything about this development, either via internal communications, media, or from friends? Could it be that it was not yet widely disseminated among the administration staff? Could it be that Joofik had been killed before he had been able to deliver the data she was studying by the subdued light of his ceiling? If the latter, it was an oversight that screamed to be rectified—information of importance to every AAnn on Jast. It was her responsibility to pass it along, to see that it reached those in a position to both appreciate the data and take appropriate action on its behalf. Her sharp-toothed Joofik would earn his promotion, even if it would have to be delivered posthumously. As she rose from the chair to remove the information cube from the player, she knew exactly where to go with the information he had so carefully guarded. Only one person was properly positioned to review the material and act on it without hesitation.

The head of the special unit charged with dealing with the threat of the Vsseyan radicals—Secondary Administrator Takuuna VBXLLW.

Given the sensitive nature of the data and the care Joofik had taken to keep it confidential—no doubt to prevent others (including, properly, herself) from benefiting from the fruits of his labor—she determined to submit the information in person. Exiting and resealing the apartment chamber behind her, she strode purposefully in the direction of Administration Central. Once out in a main corridor, she utilized her tablet's communicator to directly access Special Unit Chief Takuuna. There was only one problem.

His office insisted the administrator was out of Skokosas on important covert business and would be completely out of contact until the moment of his return.

Halting in the corridor, tail switching indecisively, she debated with herself how best to proceed. Other nye walked briskly around her, politely ignoring her private contemplation. Probably she ought to wait for the administrator's return. But the data cube, resting in the carry-pouch slung over her right shoulder and across her chest, burned to release the vital information it contained.

I know, she decided finally. I will compromise, and in so doing will gain the greatest possible benefit for poor Joofik,
tilassk.

She would leave an appropriate message for the absent unit leader, together with the detailed report that had been assembled by her late, lamented mating partner. He would be able to retrieve it as soon as he emerged from the privacy shell beneath which he was currently laboring. Simultaneously, she would forward the data to every other relevant department and sector she could think of, including that of senior administrator Keliichu. If any or all of them thought Joofik's conclusions in need of immediate action, they would be able to respond accordingly and at their own pace.

Increasingly confident she had done the right thing for
the Empire, for Joofik's reputation, and for herself, she began compiling a list of addresses of departments she thought might find the conclusions reached by her late favorite male of more than passing interest.

At first, a bewildered Flinx found himself struggling to keep up with the restless Chraluuc. But the AAnn were sprinters, not distance runners, and as she slowed he found himself loping alongside as she led the way down the familiar trail. Pip, naturally, had no difficulty shadowing them both from above.

“Why are we running? Where are we going?” He was breathing hard, the folds of his custom-tailored robe streaming out around him.

She explained between sibilant intakes of breath. “We have received an official transsmission from an incoming aircar requessting that we hold you for ‘quesstioning.’ The requesst came from the same fixated official who tried to take you in for quesstioning earlier. As you know, we denied that requesst. There is concern that thiss time the official may try to remove you from the groundss by force if he cannot do sso by documentation.” Ignoring a wide bend in the descending switchback trail, she scrambled straight downward, making her own shortcut. Flinx followed, his ribbed sandals slipping and sliding on the inconsiderate sandstone. Folding her wings, Pip rocketed effortlessly past them.

“What can be the reason for this official's obsession with me?” Flinx was genuinely perplexed.

Chraluuc managed a second-degree gesture of disdain. “He thinkss you are ssomehow involved in the violent actionss that have been perpetrated againsst our pressence here on Jasst.”

“That's crazy!” Flinx leaned backward slightly as he followed her into the familiar side canyon. “How could I
give assistance to anyone outside the Tier even if I wanted to? There would be a record of transmissions, of shipments, of—”

“Calm yoursself. Truly, your fellow artissans know that. It iss only thiss one official who sseemss not to. I have been given permission to conceal you until he hass departed. As they did previoussly, the Elders of the Ssemilionn will deal with him.”

They were in the canyon of The Confection. It loomed ahead of them now, the vast concentric rings of shimmering applied art filling the gap between natural arch and canyon bottom with extravagant grace and glimmer. As always, he was overwhelmed by the baroque alien splendor of the communal artistic effort. His own small contribution, added only a week ago, spiraled outward from the lower left corner. It seemed pitifully inadequate compared with the towering contributions made by senior sculptors of open space such as the great Haagaz and florid Yiivada.

“Thiss way.” She led him to the small but comfortable shelter where those preoccupied by their work on The Confection could spend the night or take cover from the occasional bad weather that swept over the plateau. It was equipped with its own climate-control system as well as food and hygienic facilities.

Once inside, she drew water from the dispenser; tepid for herself, as cold as the unit could manage for him. While they sat and sipped and gazed out one of the two wide windows at the indefatigable spectacle that was The Confection, Flinx wondered why one local administrator was so convinced he could somehow be playing a part in the violent actions that had been directed at the AAnn presence on this world. It made no sense; none whatsoever. All he was trying to do was live peaceably among sentients of similar inclination if different appearance
while trying to regain his lost memories. He was no threat to anyone. For reasons known probably only to him, this solitary official thought otherwise.