The Privateer (24 page)

The small man hesitated, and then continued. “In view of the values involved in this transaction, I might recommend that you procure the services of an additional local bodyguard to accompany you in your dealings and back to your ship. Escorts can even be arranged to the local jump point, if desired.” He retrieved a jeweler’s scanner from a drawer in the desk, and spread a black cloth on the desktop.

Zant shook his head. “I doubt that will be necessary. However, could you provide us with the name of a reliable local bodyguard service, just in case?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Jarnett replied in a distracted tone. He spilled the contents of Zant’s bag onto the black cloth, gasping as the pile of glittering stones reflected the room’s light. He carefully examined Zant’s empty bag, and then propped it open on one corner of the black cloth. One by one, he slid the stones under the scanner. As each stone was scanned and weighed, he returned it to Zant’s bag. No one spoke; no one dared break the little man’s obsessive concentration. Finally, the last stone was run through the scanner. Jarnett pressed the button that produced a report of each stone, and then pressed it again for a second copy. With carefully exaggerated movements to assure his visitors that no sleight-of-hand was taking place, Jarnett closed the bag, and placed a sealing strip around its top.

Finally, he sat back with a sigh. “Six hundred twenty-eight stones, of weights from 2.16 carats to 5.08 carats, all flawless blue-white, totaling two thousand thirty-six carats,” he said in a hushed tone. “My Lady, I am honored. I have rarely seen such a collection.”

Cale was surprised. “Then you have seen others as large?”

“Only one larger,” Jarnett replied with a strained smile, “and the stones were not as fine, and the collection itself was of, shall we say, doubtful origin.” Somehow, Dee gained the impression that Jarnett’s smile was almost as rare.

Zant pulled a comp pad from his tunic. “I know that business contacts are essential to doing business here, sire Jarnette,” he said, “but I haven’t had business contact with Freehold in more than twenty years. Would you do me the honor of looking at this list and telling me how many, if any, are still doing business here?”

Jarnette nodded and took the pad. After a moment another of his wintry smiles rose. “It has indeed been some time, sire Jenfu. Three of these people are dead, and four of the others moved on some years ago. In fact, the only person on this list that I know to still be aboard is Rin Tenkin, and he is retired.” He shrugged and handed back the pad. “He may still be able to provide an introduction. You might check at the Skull. They may know how to reach him.”

He handed a crystal containing one copy of the list from the scanner to Dee, along with a simple receipt bearing a hologram of the stones scattered on the black cloth. “My lady, this crystal, and this receipt are as valuable as the stones themselves. They are the only acceptable way to retrieve them. Please be very careful. The stones will be given to whoever presents the receipt and the crystal. If you trade them for gold, say, or Alliance credits, you may be given similar documents. Upon presentation, you will be given whatever they represent.” He rose, and walked around the desk, taking Dee’s hand to lift her gently from her chair. “As I mentioned, since you and your men are not known here, whoever you deal with may require you to accompany him here to retrieve the stones. Your own presence will not be required, my lady, as long as one or both of your men, here, can represent you. I’m afraid you may find the residents of Freehold somewhat uncouth and uncivilized.”

Dee smiled and spoke for the first time. “Your courtesy is appreciated, sire Jarnett, and your civility does you credit. You have my thanks for both your advice and your services.”

Another of his half-smiles and a small bow rewarded her. When he turned to Zant, the smile was gone. “I regret, sire Jenfu, that Shorty’s is not an altruistic organization. The fee for our services is a flat one thousand Alliance credits, or the equivalent in readily convertible currencies.” That information had been shown on the station web, so they were prepared. Zant gave the little man most of Cale’s remaining Angeles crowns and Jarnett bowed Dee out, ignoring the men once he had received his payment.

Once out of Shorty’s, both Zant and Cale urged Dee to return to
Cheetah
, arguing that in her outlandish garb was far too conspicuous, and that the two men in their shipsuits would be better able to do business. Unsurprisingly, Dee disagreed. Her main point was that while the diamonds were safely stashed, the receipt that could get them handed over to the bearer was not, and could not be stashed. “I’m a third blaster,” she maintained, “and more importantly, in this getup I’m a blaster that the bad guys won’t be expecting. Besides, the Skull is the kind of place I came here to see, and I’m damned well going to see it, even in this circus costume!”

The Skull was a large and raucous bar not far from
Cheetah
’s berth. A large open area housed a small dance floor and a host of tables scattered about. Loud music blasted from strategically placed speakers. Around the edge were a series of triangular niches and a few convex mirrored surfaces. As soon as they entered, Cale pulled Zant and Dee back out of the entrance.

“We can’t accomplish anything in there,” he said, “it’s too loud to talk, and security would be impossible.” He nodded toward a small, seemingly quiet restaurant nearby. “Much as I hate to split our forces, I think Zant should go into the Skull to find his contact, and Dee and I should wait in the restaurant.”

Zant shook his head. “We should stay together. Besides, you saw the triangular niches around the edge of the main room. Well, they are really booths, and they’re all equipped with privacy screens and hush fields. That’s what the mirrored things are – privacy screens. You can see out, but nobody can see in. A lot of business gets done there. Tell you what,” he continued, “We’ll go in and escort the queen, here, to a private domain. You engage the privacy screen and hush field, and the two of you can have your blasters already out while I go up to the bar to find out about old Rin.”

Cale was still reluctant, but let himself be convinced. He and Zant crowded against Dee’s back as they entered, and the tight triangle edged toward an empty booth, hands on blasters and heads swiveling, scanning for threats. Dee was fascinated.
This
was the Den of Iniquity she had expected, and the clientele certainly fit the image. Revealingly clothed and barely-clothed women smiled temptingly at bearded leather-clad men who swilled beer and
galk
, while others sat at the bar and tried to tempt newcomers. The threesome garnered plenty of strange looks and more than a few snickers, but they soon slid into the vacant booth. Dee gave a sigh of relief as the hush circuit cut off the raucous noise outside. A slight darkening of the view showed that Zant had engaged the privacy screen,

“Okay,” he said, “You two keep your blasters in your hands and your eyes open. That privacy screen is just that; it’s not any kind of shield. If you see trouble coming, you can just shoot through it.” He grinned. “But don’t shoot a waiter, okay?”

Before they could answer, he demonstrated by walking through the privacy screen, and headed for the bar. Cale and Dee held their blasters in their hands, and kept their eyes scanning for trouble, although Dee’s bright eyes showed her excitement at finally seeing her ‘den of iniquity’. After a few minutes, Zant headed back in their direction with a tray of drinks. Again, he walked through the screen.

He slid onto the padded bench seat, setting the tray on the table. “The bartender says Rin comes in here every day at 17 like clockwork. A waitress says the same. He has a favorite booth, and gets himself quietly flashed every day. Since we just have to wait . . .” he checked his ring watch, “twenty mins, I bought the drinks to keep the waiters from bothering us. Don’t drink them. The bartender turned his back while he mixed them, and I have no reason to trust him.”

They spent most of the next twenty mins teasing Dee about her taste in clothing, while simultaneously scanning for threats. Finally, Zant saw a familiar figure enter the bar and head for his preferred booth. He hurried to intercept the older man and guide him to their booth instead.

Rin Tenkin had once been tall and thin. Now, he was tall and emaciated. He wore his white hair trimmed short in spacer fashion. His sallow, puffy complexion and the tremors in his hands revealed his current preoccupation. Though he seemed sober now, there was no doubt that was a temporary situation.

The bleary eyes surveyed them, and a twinkle in his eyes and a twitchy half-smile showed that at least he was sober enough to appreciate Dee’s costume. He started to reach a shaky hand for one of their drinks, but was stopped by Zant’s hand on his wrist.

“Not yet,” Zant said. “Business first, and then you can have them all.”

“Zant Jenfu,” Tenkin said in a gravelly voice. “I thought you were dead long ago. Where’ve you been?”

Zant grinned. “Been out of circulation for awhile, Rin” he replied.

A flicker of interest showed in the bleary eyes. “Oh, yeah? Planetary rest cure?”

Zant chuckled. “Naw, nothin’ like that. I been pioneering. Found out I kinda liked woods runnin’.” He sobered. “Okay, business. Me and my friends, here, need to do some business. Are you still connected enough to give us an introduction?”

The old man frowned. “Could be. Depends on the kind of business. It’d have to be an old timer. I’ve been out of the business for quite a while, now.”

Zant frowned. It was obvious he really didn’t want to trust the old man.

Tenkin looked puzzled for a moment, and then suddenly, he grinned, and Cale could see a little of the man he had been. “Don’t worry, Zant,” he said. “I know I’m an old drunk, but don’t forget, I’ve been conditioned. Years ago, it was, but that don’t matter. Conditioning is for life. I
can’t
spill business info. Even if it’s not legal business.”

Zant relaxed and his normal grin resurfaced. “No worries there. It’s legal. All right, we want to sell diamonds for Alliance credits.”

Tenkin frowned. “Must be a big lot to bring you way out here for a legal sale. Hmmm. Lessee. Since it’s a legal deal, I might be able to hook you up with Res Selton. He’s a factor for several big jewel outfits. At least he was.” He took his comp pad out and keyed a long sequence.

“Res?” he said, “Rin Tenkin. Yeah. And I’m still sober, too. You still dealin’ jewels? No, no, strictly legit, but a big shipment. Sheol, I dunno. Would you tell an old drunk like me?” He laughed. “Naw, he’s an old friend. You might even remember him from a long time back. Zant Jenfu. Naw, don’t worry about it. You’ll recognize ‘em. Young fella and ol’ Zant, and a looker in an outfit you won’t believe. Oh, you heard about ‘em already?” His eyes widened and he looked at Dee. “You really got a yacht?” He switched his attention back to his call as Dee nodded. “Yeah, that’s them. Okay. Thirty mins. Got it. Yeah. Good talkin’ to you again, too. Sheol, I might even remember it, this time.” He chuckled and disconnected. He turned to Zant. “Well! Seems you’ve done better than I thought. Anyway, Res Selton will meet you in thirty mins. He’s done well, too. He has an actual office. A lot higher class than this dump.” He gave them detailed directions to Res Selton’s office.

Zant nodded. “Thanks, Rin.” He paused. “I don’t know what the going rate is for an introduction these days, but here.” He handed the old man the last of their Angeles crowns. Cale almost stopped him. Ridiculous as it sounded, they didn’t even have enough left to buy lunch! However, he stopped himself. This was Zant’s territory; he knew the rules and the customs, and Cale didn’t.

He needn’t have worried. The old man pushed the bills back across the table with a shake of his head. “Naw,” he said. “This one’s on me. You offered me these three drinks before; we’ll call it square.” For a moment, the rheumy eyes firmed with pride. “It was good to do business again. Even if it was only for a min.”

Zant grinned and rose as Rin gathered the three glasses before him. “Careful with those drinks, Rin,” he warned. “The bartender mixed them for strangers, and he turned his back while he mixed ‘em.”

The old man laughed aloud. “I don’t think ol’ Jan would drug ‘em, but if he did, I guess I’ll get a few extra hours’ sleep. Good luck!” He picked up one of the glasses, drained it in a gulp as the three friends rose, and left, as carefully as they had arrived.

Dee was scandalized. “That man is killing himself! Why doesn’t someone help him?”

Zant grabbed her arm and whirled her around to face him. “Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” He was about to continue when Cale jumped between them.

“Drop it, Dee. He’s right. We’ll talk about it when we get back aboard!” He didn’t look at either of them; his eyes continued scanning for threats.

Dee flushed, whether with anger or embarrassment Cale couldn’t say; but Zant’s face also darkened, and he muttered, “Right. Sorry.” Before dropping back to again cover their rear.

Res Selton’s otherwise undistinguished door displayed a small brass-colored plaque announcing “Selton Import-Export.” Again taking the lead, Zant pressed the enunciator and gave his name. The door swished aside to reveal a uniformed guard with an Empire Marines-issue blaster in his hands. The man stared at each of them for a moment before stepping aside.

The office they entered was significantly larger than Hern Jarnett’s, and much richer. The walls were paneled in what appeared to be real wood, and displayed tasteful artwork. Seated behind the real wood desk sat a rather fat man whose florid countenance was framed by a mass of salt-and-paper hair. His expression was dour and harried, but when he saw Dee, it softened into a professional smile. He hurried around the desk to greet her.

“A good day to you, Mistress,” he said. “Rumor told me of your presence, but it failed to describe your beauty. I am Res Selton, and I understand you have some gems to sell.”

He opened his mouth to continue, but Zant interrupted him by clearing this throat noisily. “I am Zant Jenfu, and I represent the Lady Delilah Raum of Faith,” he said in a superior tone. “My lady is traveling this sector, and finds herself running short of cash. She does not wish to
sell
anything. A lady of her social status does not engage in
business
, of course. On her behalf, I would like to convert a substantial collection of unmounted diamonds into Alliance credits.”