The Iron Admiral: Deception (2 page)

“They seem to be leaving the city,” Pyndrees said.

Sean grunted. “If you get an opportunity, get rid of him and grab her.”

The sooner he was out of here, the better he’d like it. Malmos made him nervous. Besides, he didn’t like having to stay in a down-market hotel where the room was essentially a large drawer with a bed in it.

He’d developed a taste for first class travel and swish hotels. He didn’t much like Pyndrees, either. The man was a professional crook, tough and experienced. Tepich had provided him, ostensibly to help Sean

on Malmos. Sean thought sourly he might just have another role, to keep an eye on Sean. He kept his eyes on the Lysanda, three in front.

Pyndrees followed carefully. He pulled off the sky-way occasionally and caught up with the traffic in another lane or let other vehicles overtake him but the Lysanda was always in sight. Where would she be going? Somewhere out of town, obviously.

“Whoops. Time to go.” Pyndrees steered the skimmer off the sky-way and headed toward one of the industrial hubs as though the place had always been his intended destination.

ChapterTwo

“What are you doing? They’re still going that way.” Sean pointed down the sky-way where the Lysanda was a rapidly receding speck.

“Too much competition. One’s on our tail now.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“No, don’t look, idiot. A black Ventra, four back.” Pyndrees checked their whereabouts on the console. “There’s a factory here that makes glassware. We’ll go there.”

“Why?”

“Because my cover is as a buyer for the Quartermaster chain on Hildebrand.”

Sure, that made sense. Us, officer? Just a couple of tradespeople doing business.

After Pyndrees had parked he and Sean went into the factory’s office. Pyndrees talked to the person at the counter while Sean positioned himself so he could see the door. The black Ventra cruised into the parking area and landed behind Pyndrees’s vehicle. Uh-oh. Sean strolled casually over to Pyndrees.

“They’re on their way.”

Pyndrees turned away from the counter. “We’ll just have to tough it out,” he muttered. In a louder voice he said, “The manager can talk to us tomorrow.”

An unexceptional looking woman in blue trousers and a grey shirt approached them. Another man walked in and pretended to look over a display near the door. At least two of them. Probably more outside.

Sean and Pyndrees began to walk toward the exit but Grey-shirt intercepted them. “Excuse me, gents.”

Her smile didn’t reflect in her eyes. She took a card out of her pocket and showed it to them. Plain clothes police. “Could I see your IDs, please?”

Sean frowned, puzzled but cooperative. “Certainly, officer.” He accepted the read request transmitted to his implant. “I hope we haven’t inadvertently done something wrong? We’re both from off-world.”

Pyndrees nodded, holding out his ID card.

She shook her head. “Not at all. This is just routine.”

A brief vacant look came over the police officer’s face as she recorded the details on her implant. The adrenalin sang in Sean’s veins but he exuded affable wariness. He’d played this game many times before, but not on a Confederacy planet. What if the IDs didn’t check out? He suppressed a sigh of relief as she handed the card back.

“Sorry to trouble you, gents. We’re looking for two people in a skimmer like yours. I apologize for any inconvenience.”

“No trouble,” Sean said. “I hope you find the skimmer you want. We’ll be on our way.”

The black Ventra was still there when they took off.

“Find the nearest pub,” Sean said. “I could use a drink.”

Pyndrees nodded and complied. Luckily, the nearest pub was only a few blocks away. Sean pointed at the ramp to the underground carpark but Pyndrees had already worked that one out. The two men said nothing until they were out of their vehicle.

Sean put a finger to his lips, pulled what appeared to be a normal pen out of his pocket, then pressed the end. It lit up, pulsing at Pyndrees. He brought the device closer, homing in on the signal coming from the man’s left breast.

Grinning, Pyndrees handed his ID card over, then watched as Sean located the micro-dot, removed it and slipped it onto the skimmer beside them. That had been a bit obvious. Sean flicked the pen again.

This time the micro-dot was on Pyndrees’s sleeve. He eased the tracker off, holding it on the end of the pen.

Pyndrees raised a hand and mouthed ‘wait’. He fetched a probe from his gear, telescoped it under the vehicle beside them with the micro-dot attached and stuck the device under the chassis.

 

That would keep them guessing for a while. ‘Let’s go’, Sean mouthed.

Pyndrees raised his eyebrows and pointed a finger at Sean’s head. ‘Your chip.’

Sean shook his head, jerked a thumb at the exit and pointed at another skimmer parked in a bay nearby.

Stealing the machine was child’s play to a man like Pyndrees. He disarmed the activators, took them out, replaced them with a set of his own and started the engine. He took a moment to retrieve the recordings taken of the latest journey from his own skimmer before sliding into the driver’s seat of the stolen machine. Sean jumped in beside him.

“Are you sure they can’t track you via the chip? How does that work?” Pyndrees asked as they drove up the ramp.

You think I’d tell you?“Just a little something that disrupts the signal. It only works for me.”

The man shot him an admiring glance. “Nice. I like that sensor you used to find the trackers, too.

Where’d you get them?”

Allysha had designed them both, of course. He had asked her for the sensor that found trackers, just as he had asked her for a personal shield. She built the locator years ago, to help a ptorix family find a missing relative. Sean saw the value of the device immediately and built one of his own in secret. It had proved useful more than once and now the tracker was set to react to Allysha’s chip. The disrupter was his own design, built to prevent anybody from tracking him via a satellite. He might not be as good as Allysha, but he was still pretty damned good.

Pyndrees sent the skimmer into the joining lane for the expressway back to the city.

“What are you doing?” Sean said. “You can pick up the Lysanda they’re in from the satellite, can’t you?”

“Yes, but I don’t like the risk. As soon as we get anywhere near that Lysanda they’ll recognize us. Better think again.”

****

The market proved to be a vast building on the edge of the manufacturing district. Saahren and Allysha left the skimmer at the automatic parking station and joined the bustle in a hall crowded with shoppers, some carrying bags, some using personal trolleys to carve a path for themselves through busy aisles that receded into the distance.

 

Allysha stared around like a child in a sweet shop taking in the noise and color. Stall-holders spruiked their wares, shouting above the drone of voices. She heard snippets of conversation. ‘No, Con. You’ve just had breakfast.’ ‘… can’t believe how expensive beets are.’ ‘… cheap shoes…’ She caught the fragrance of flowers here, perfume there, the unmistakable smell of leather goods. People jostled as they pushed past her.

 

“This is amazing. There’s stuff here from everywhere.”

“That’s right. But don’t get too involved. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

Saahren guided her through the throng out toward a food court. She extricated herself from his grip to find an unoccupied table while he bought the food. He came back with a loaded tray of steaming kaff and

cylindrical rolls. They certainly smelled nice. Her mouth watered.

Saahren picked up a roll and crunched, hand cupped under his mouth to catch crumbs. Allysha bit into a delicious, creamy, spicy mixture of meat and vegetables in a crisp coating. She hadn’t realized she was so

hungry. She finished two, licking her lips while Saahren finished a fourth.

He drained his kaff, wiped his mouth and pushed back his chair. “Come on. Let’s find the vegetables.”

They strolled together down the aisles between stalls and shops. Allysha lingered often, fascinated by some obscure item of clothing or jewelry. If she had to be here, might as well enjoy herself. With a bit of luck, he’d be annoyed. But Saahren indulged her when she tarried, a slight smile on his face. A bolt of green material attracted her attention. It was exquisite, woven in an intricate, flowing design the ptorix might have used, the details picked out in gold thread. She felt the texture with her fingers, soft but strong.

It would drape beautifully.

“You buy, beautiful lady? Will go with your beautiful eyes.” The woman named a price.

The material wasn’t cheap but Allysha could certainly afford to pay. Easily. But what was the point?

She’d have to have a dress made to wear… where?

“Do you want it?” Saahren stood watching her, his head a little to one side, a smile lurking around his lips.

“If I want it, I’ll buy it.” She certainly didn’t want him buying more expensive gifts for her. She remembered the necklace with a pang. The altari stones had glowed with their own inner light, enhanced by the soft gold of the setting. But she couldn’t keep it. Accepting a gift like that would have given him quite the wrong impression.

She smiled at the proprietor, shook her head and moved on, past cooking utensils and boots and shoes, musical instruments, and strange medical remedies using odd ingredients that had probably been part of some animal.

She drank it all in, a kaleidoscope of smells, sounds, colors, textures; some familiar, some exotic.

Sometimes she wondered about particular items. Saahren could usually answer her questions. If he couldn’t, he asked the proprietor. He seemed to be so comfortable, fitting easily into such an apparently alien space, so different from the military. Once or twice people stared at him, or a couple of people shared a whispered conversation. Allysha imagined the discussion.Is that Grand Admiral Saahren? It sure

looks like him. No, that’s silly. He wouldn’t be wandering around the Cusang market with some girl.

They went about their business, almost disappointed.

The markets reminded her so much of Shernish, with its color, noise, smells. “I suppose, living in a high class tower apartment, it’s easy to forget that there’s ordinary people on this world, too, doing ordinary jobs.”

 

He shook his head. “These are the people I work for. I protect their right to live their lives without threat. I never forget they’re here.”

Allysha looked up at him. She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until he’d replied. He was deadly serious.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Mamangs?”

“I suppose. If we must.” Allysha followed in his wake as he weaved his way through the shoppers. The fruit and vegetable department was as crowded and colorful as the rest of the market. Allysha trailed along in wide-eyed wonder until Saahren stopped at one stall. He picked through the pile of mamangs and gave the four he selected to the stall holder. He didn’t haggle, just paid the shopkeeper what he asked.

Allysha noticed the slight frown as the man looked at his customer. He suddenly grinned. “You know, you look an awful lot like Grand Admiral Saahren.”

Saahren grinned in his turn. “If I had a penny for every time I’ve been told that, I’d be a rich man.” He took the bag of fruit from the vendor and turned back to Allysha. “Come on, we’re off to the foothills.”

ChapterThree

The stolen skimmer followed the flow of the traffic, not too fast, not too slow. Pyndrees, relaxed in the driver’s seat, scratched his lip. “I wonder if the protection was for her or for him.”

“For him? What for?” Sean said.

“Very senior officials—ministers, mayors, that sort of thing—sometimes have secret service escorts.”

Frowning, Pyndrees reached over and scanned back through the images of the Lysanda, retrieved from his vehicle. “There. These are pretty clear.” He pulled out his comlink and fed in the data stream. The process took a few seconds. He pursed his lips, eyebrows arched. “Well, well.”

“What?” Sean said.

“The system’s ninety-eight percent sure that the man in the skimmer is Grand Admiral Saahren himself.”

 

He chuckled. “Word was he can’t get it up.”

Sean snorted. “I couldn’t care less.” He wasn’t jealous; he’d long since realized he had no right to be.

He wondered how she’d met him. Then again, she worked for the Star Fleet; the grand admiral could probably have his pick of the women there. He certainly would have, in a position like that. “Seems a bit odd, though. That’s a crappy Lysanda. If it was Saahren wouldn’t he be driving around in an escorted limo?”

Pyndrees pursed his lips. “Point. Maybe this guy’s Saahren’s body double.”

“I’m not interested in him. I just want her.” Sean wished it didn’t have to be this way. He didn’t want her hurt—but then, he didn’t want to die.

“Hmm. But Saahren’s off-duty body double wouldn’t have an escort. Might make things a little more difficult if it is Saahren.” Pyndrees paused for a moment, considering. “Or a bit more interesting. I might mention it to Tepich.”

Tepich. Sean almost shivered at the man’s name. No jolly fat man, Anton Tepich. He’d made the situation very clear; deliver Allysha, or forfeit your own life. Sean wished he knew what they wanted her for. Obviously some information system thing. He consoled himself with the thought that at least they wouldn’t harm her.

****

Allysha enjoyed every bit of the day, even when she tried hard not to. Saahren took her into the foothills and showed her waterfalls. That was predictable, really, reviving memories of times shared. They weren’t

 

as impressive as the one that roared down the rocks on Tisyphor, though. Besides, on Tisyphor she had believed he was an ex-sergeant. She didn’t yet know he was lying to her.

From the hills they went down to the coast for lunch. She enjoyed sitting at a café on a jetty, watching the sea birds soar on the air currents while waves rolled in to shore.

Evening was approaching when he landed the skimmer outside a small, unremarkable restaurant in a poor part of town. A torn awning swayed in a gentle breeze but delectable, exotic smells wafted toward her.