Star Risk - 02 Scoundrel Worlds (8 page)

Elder Bracken recited another equally bland prayer, bowed, and the worshipers got up and started out.

Bracken came up to them. "What do you think?"

"What should I be thinking?" Goodnight asked.

"That, perhaps, our ribaldry or devil-worshiping is a bit exaggerated?"

Riss laughed.

"There've been quite a few other outsiders at our services," Bracken said. "Unfortunately, few of them come more than once. And many of them leave disappointed."

"Why?" Goodnight asked.

"They expected something different," Bracken suggested. "We have enemies�have had them for generations�who spread the most dreadful calumny. Now, with the unfortunate incident of Brother Sufyerd, the holos are also spreading these lies.

"I fully expect, any day now, they'll claim we sacrifice newborn infants." He shook his head sadly.

"We're from offworld," Riss said, "and have wondered why you Jilani are badgered."

"Because we live our lives separately, yet within the Dampier System's culture, just as we do on other worlds, other systems. We do not vote, we pay taxes reluctantly, and avoid military service as much as possible, practicing pacifism. We do not espouse treason, nor even passive resistance to the state."

"But this Sufyerd�" Goodnight said.

"Some feel Brother Sufyerd had backslid into apostasy, but the truth is that he, and some of our more progressive thinkers, feel we should amalgamate ourselves more into society."

He shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid his current predicament suggests to me the possible incorrectness of the theory, although there are still those who persist, and who have dedicated their lives to that belief.

"On the other hand, since Brother Sufyerd's conviction, there are those� respected members of our group� who think pacifism is an outmoded tool in a society that sneers at peacefulness and persecutes us. They think we should be willing to take up cudgels against those who are our enemies.

"I�and most other Jilani�disagree, and think the best way to end persecution is to continue to live blameless lives."

"Boring from within?" Riss said.

"I could wish," Bracken said. "Of course I would that everyone on this planet believe as we do. But we do not proselytize, never have, and most likely never shall. Our ultimate dream is to simply be left alone, as we attempt to leave others alone."

"Let me ask you another question," Goodnight said. "How many of these strangers who came to your services did you suspect were police agents, or counterintelligence operatives?"

"Such as yourselves?" Bracken said, and grinned broadly, seeing their reaction. "I just said that to see what would happen. As to your question, I'm not one of those who can recognize a plainclothesman, which I've heard members of the criminal class are frequently able to do.

"But there were those who had recorders, or were jotting things down that I noted. No doubt looking for material, either pro or con, for poor Brother Sufyerd's trial.

"Why did they choose your� congregation, if that's the right word?" Riss asked.

"Brother Sufyerd and his family have worshiped here once or twice," Bracken said. "The interesting thing about these police spies is that I didn't see the last of them after Brother Sufyerd was convicted."

"Oh?" Riss said, letting her interest show, since it was obvious Bracken was on to them.

"Yes," Bracken said. "There have been at least half a dozen visitors since the trial, which I can only ascribe to the fact we're the most open of the various chapters here on Montrois. I just wonder what they're looking for."

"I do, too," Goodnight said thoughtfully.

"Well," Bracken said. "I have business elsewhere. Be advised, no matter who you're working for, that you're welcome back to any of our services. Even a spy might benefit from a little peaceful meditation."

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FOURTEEN � ^ � Von Baldur didn't know what to expect from his invitation to meet L'Pellerin at his offices for dinner.

The secret police, the Dampier Information Bureau, were housed in an ominous old-fashioned steel building just off a fashionable boulevard in Tuletia. There was no security visible outside, although von Baldur knew it had to be there. Secret policemen are always more paranoid than intelligence agencies.

He'd been asked to be there around normal quitting time, and workers were streaming out to the heavily guarded parking areas down the street. He didn't see anyone wearing a cloak, nor a dagger or a set of thumbscrews in her or his back pocket.

He entered through double doors into a blast-resistant room, quite large. There was a receptionist, male, who looked as if he'd been hired from a police emergency response team, but who was civil enough.

He asked if von Baldur had any arms, smiled politely at the negative response, and touched a sensor. Two silent men searched him, one using a handheld solid-object detector, but found nothing.

Von Baldur was given a photo badge, and the two men escorted him down an empty corridor to a lift that shot him up to the second from the top story of the building, then down another empty corridor to an unmarked door.

They bowed him into L'Pellerin's office, a large, comfortable-looking suite. There were no papers or holos visible.

L'Pellerin came out from behind his desk, greeted von Baldur in a tone that was probably meant to be friendly, but actually sounded like a bureaucrat about to deny a last appeal.

L'Pellerin was a slight man, balding, who clearly would never bother with follicle regeneration. He had a nervous, gray face, and, von Baldur noticed, nails bitten close.

"We shall eat in my private dining room," L'Pellerin announced. His voice was that of a small-town teacher, used to being obeyed.

Von Baldur expressed pleasure at the idea, and was led into a small dining area paneled in wood and incongruously hung with archaic hunting prints.

There was no menu.

The meal was very simple and excellent: crudites, then crusty, warm, fresh-baked bread with home-churned butter, a smoked meat and fowl bean stew, salad, and a cheese course. Von Baldur was offered a red or white wine, L'Pellerin drank mineral water.

L'Pellerin ate hurriedly, in spite of the fact his face suggested he was ulcerous. He behaved as if he'd been given a task at birth, then told he wouldn't have enough time to finish it.

However, like Reynard, L'Pellerin observed the most sensible custom of not talking business with his meal.

Near its end, von Baldur complimented him on the meal.

L'Pellerin looked at von Baldur disbelievingly. "You mean that?"

"I seldom lie," Friedrich said. "Except, of course, when the job dictates."

L'Pellerin flashed a smile, less humorous than a polite acknowledgment of the jest.

"There are enough elaborate palaces for eating in Tuletia," he said. "I prefer the peasant food of my own province."

There didn't seem to be an answer to that.

L'Pellerin finished before von Baldur, waited patiently. When von Baldur put his plate aside a man came in, cleared the table, left the wine and the mineral water on the table.

"So you� and your team� are going to prove Sufyerd innocent."

Von Baldur saw no point in dissembling. "We are going to attempt that."

"You will fail," L'Pellerin announced. "My investigators are already quite satisfied as to his guilt. I ordered the case closed, and any men assigned to it were assigned new tasks the same day the verdict was handed down."

"There are others who disagree about Sufyerd's guilt."

"Reynard? Fra Diavolo? The bleeding hearts of Dampier? I don't worry about their opinions."

Von Baldur touched the wineglass to his lips.

"I asked you here because I always like to size up an opponent before battle is joined," L'Pellerin announced.

"I am not necessarily your enemy, am I? I thought you would be more interested in the truth than in conflict," von Baldur said.

"The truth has been determined," L'Pellerin said. "To challenge that decision is to question the state itself."

"The normal police's job is to support society," von Baldur said. "At least publicly. I am a bit surprised that you take that absolute and simplistic a stance."

L'Pellerin laughed harshly. "Absolute? I'm hardly a fool. But once the state has declared itself, that is the position we all must take, or society itself is in danger of crumbling."

"Obviously I disagree," von Baldur said.

"Obviously you do. But you're right about one thing. There's no particular reason I should see you as my� as our� enemy. Not yet, at least.

"I have no objection to your taking as much of Reynard's money as you can. He's entirely too rich, and a longtime mischief-maker, in or out of office�which is your first warning. Reynard is growing increasingly desperate, as are the fringe elements of his party, the Independents.

"Dampier is quite content being ruled by the Universalists, and Reynard's scrounging about for a scandal will accomplish little, I'm afraid�save to stir up the masses, who're always ripe for trouble."

"You think that the current situation between Torguth and Dampier is satisfactory?"

"I do," L'Pellerin said. "I speak off the record, but I can say that we have their dozen or so agents here on Tuletia under constant surveillance, and should the political situation worsen, can have them all under arrest within a day.

"As for Torguth itself� I think it's quite healthy for two systems to be in competition with each other.

"Some of this competition, of course, is military, which in one regard is a waste of the taxpayers' credits, but on the other does provide work in the various arms industries."

"I am not really concerned about that, though I certainly do not agree," von Baldur said.

"You, an ex-soldier, disagree?"

"Perhaps that is one reason I am an ex-soldier."

"Well spoken," L'Pellerin said. "So let me move on to my next warning. You, and your teammates, can be in personal danger if you pursue your quest too diligently."

"From you and your policemen?"

"Probably not," L'Pellerin said. "I would think all of you are too intelligent to chance treason or involving yourselves with the Torguth, which is all the DIB concerns itself with.

"There are wheels within wheels here on Tuletia, and I must caution you that little is as it appears, and the situation can change completely from day to day. Be warned that even Reynard may, if it becomes expedient, turn against you."

"Thank you for the warning, sir," von Baldur said. "Now, may I ask you two questions?"

"You may ask," L'Pellerin said carefully. "I do not guarantee an answer, though."

"First," von Baldur said, "what is your, and the Universalists', connection with a private security firm called Cerberus Systems?"

L'Pellerin lifted an eyebrow. "Your intelligence� or, more likely, Reynard's� is superior to what I thought it to be. The retention of Cerberus Systems, while not classified, was not felt worthy of being brought to the attention of the public.

"Cerberus Systems has operatives here on Tuletia, and a small observation team on the Belfort Worlds. They were retained quite against my�which means the DIB's�wishes, by certain nervous Universalists, to act as an outside oversight group on current events."

"I was told," von Baldur said bluntly, "they'd been hired to make sure Sufyerd dies."

"That might be one of their responsibilities."

"It's my turn to warn you," von Baldur said. "They are less than scrupulous in their methods, and less than honorable in their practices."

"No doubt," L'Pellerin said, "they would say the same about you. And since when, in the shadow world we both work in, is morality, real morality, ever in play?"

"A point," von Baldur conceded. "However, Cerberus can be terminally inept in their practices. That, in my view, makes them a risk."

L'Pellerin inclined his head. "I stand cautioned. You had a second question?"

"A multiple one. Why are members of what are called the Masked Ones permitted to operate with not only police nonintervention, but with their blessing? I speak from personal observation," von Baldur said.

"I have heard this," L'Pellerin nodded. "An investigation is under way to see if that is, in fact, the case."

"How many members of the Dampier Information Bureau also belong to the Masked Ones?"

For just an instant, L'Pellerin's face twitched. Then he recovered. "None that I'm aware of." He stood. "But if any are unveiled, they shall be dealt with most harshly. Most harshly indeed.

"Now, I thank you for taking the time to visit with me, and I think�hope, at any rate�we now understand each other better."

"I am certain that we do," von Baldur said.

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FIFTEEN � ^ � You're forgiven for the raw beef," Jasmine told Grok, patting her lips with a napkin. "At least this time it was air-dried. Next month, we'll investigate the joys of cooking."

Grok daubed cheese on the last of his berry tart, and washed it down with a prune liqueur the restaurant's owner had recommended.

"That is good," he rumbled. "I mean, that you forgive me. The meal as well."

They'd eaten well: the beef, viande de grisons; then raclette, cheese melted in front of the open fire next to them and spread on baked tubers; then salad and dessert.

Jasmine suppressed a genteel burp, saw, on the next table, the printout of a holo someone had left, and noted the headline. Curious, she slid it toward her.

"The Tuletian Pacifist, hmm?"

Grok was looking away, at a man who came in and went through the restaurant, into the facilities. That was the second time he'd seen the man do that.

"Condition Yellow," he said quietly, shifting his weight so the holster behind what looked like a sporran was easier at hand.

Jasmine frowned, then got it, moving her hand closer to her pistol.

But nothing happened. The man went back out. Jasmine returned to the printout, read an ear beside the masthead. " �Coming soon� Scandalous Details from Inside the Universalist Party on the Connivers of the Capital, Their Loves, Their Secrets. Read the Secret Letters of Premier Ladier. Mysteries of the Innocent Sufyerd, the Stolen Belfort System Plans, and More, More, More.'