The Wind After Time: Book One of the Shadow Warrior Trilogy (3 page)

“Unfortunately,” Joshua said, “I was raised pretty strict and never could handle playing during working hours.”

Lil said nothing, but her hand came up, touched his, then moved down across her flat stomach, hand circling upward and lifting her blouse. She ran a fingernail over one nipple, and it hardened.

She touched her waistband, and the memory fastener opened. She lifted her hips and slid her pants down until her golden down shone. Her legs parted slightly, and she slipped fingers between them, gently caressing herself. Her eyes opened, and she looked dreamily, smiling, into Joshua’s.

Joshua got up. He took a breath, made his voice level. “And you’re on the payroll, too, lady.”

Lil sat, still smiling. “What do I do?”

“Spend some money. Think rich. You’ll need an outfit for dinner. Plus something for tomorrow, casual but expensive. Something you can run in, if we have to. Hair, derm, manicure, massage if you want. Don’t get too crazy — I’m not
that
rich. I want you to look like — ”

He was looking at an extended middle finger. “I know,” Lil said, “what I should look like. Close, anyway. Mistress, wife, or pickup talent?”

“Like somebody who’s made a big score would want to help him spend it. The somebody’s not dumb, so you’re not taking him to the cleaners, but he’s got a bad case of lust.”

“Who’s the somebody? Do I need to know? The guy — woman — you’re looking for? Or you? Not that it matters. Like I said, anything you want goes.”

“For me,” Joshua said softly. “I’ve never set a honey trap yet. You’re camouflage, making it look like I’m just holed up and unwinding.”

“Sorry. The men I grew up around wouldn’t think that was an insult. Are you ever gonna tell me why we’re here, or am I just supposed to wait for the bangs to start?”

Joshua picked up his small carryall and started toward one of the freshers. “Take two hours. Three if you have to. I’ll be in the bar. Working.”

• • •

“There you are, sir.” The white-jacketed barman set down a snifter of light amber liquid and a frosted ice-filled water tumbler. The bar was a long reach of hand-polished wood and brass, and the shelves behind it sparkled with the stimulants and depressants of a thousand cultures.

Joshua sipped from the snifter, then nodded acceptance, and the bartender smiled as if he really cared. Joshua wore a black open-necked raw silk shirt and tight black trousers over half boots. He appeared unarmed. He still wore the deceiving silver jewel on its chain around his neck, and the flaring bell sleeves of his shirt concealed a slender tube projector strapped to the inside of his right forearm.

The fat man came into the bar from an office, saw Joshua, and walked toward him. He wore formal wear, tailored oversize. The man had allowed himself to bald and was smiling, the smile of someone welcoming a friend he hadn’t seen for a month or so. In the years Wolfe had known him the pleased expression never had gone higher than his pink jowls.

“Welcome to Yoruba, Joshua,” he said, sitting down, one careful stool between him and Wolfe.

“Ben.” Joshua lifted the snifter in a slight toast but did not drink. “You look well.”

“I always said someone who doesn’t respect himself can’t have any regard for anyone else.” Both of them smiled, flat hard smiles, appreciating the hypocrisy.

“What do you think of my operation?” the fat man asked.

“It’s a little flash for my tastes, if you want the truth.”

Greet shrugged. The barman put Greet’s drink down. It was a single shot of a clear liquid in a spike-bottomed liqueur glass embedded in a small silver bowl of ice. Greet shot the drink back and motioned for another. It did not seem to affect him, and Joshua had never heard of anyone who’d seen the fat man affected by any drink or drug. Greet waited until the barman had replaced the entire setup before replying.

“Garish?” he said. “Perhaps. But my clientele generally doesn’t share your conservative tastes. They like seeing what they’re paying for up front and gold-plated. Which brings up the question: Who are you hunting?” The smile remained.

Joshua sipped ice water.

“If it’s me … we might as well start the game now,” Greet went on. “And I hope the warrant’s worth the risk and you’ve taken care of your people.” His voice tried to force steel. Joshua turned to face the fat man. Something flickered in Greet’s eyes.

“No, Ben,” Joshua said. “Your sins, far as I know, are still unremembered in anybody’s orisons.”

Relief jellied Greet’s face. “Any of my boys? If so, there’s a couple, maybe three, I’d have to give a warning to, even if it wouldn’t do them much good. A man has certain moral duties, you know.”

“Innokenty Khodyan’s his real name. You want a holo?”

“No. I know him. Another one from my old days. He’s not using that label, but he’s here. Guest, not staff. He wanted secure and had credits, so I booked him into the Vega Suite. You’re working a warm track — he only checked in a couple of days ago. But there’s just a bit of a problem.”

Involuntarily, Greet’s head jerked as he saw the ring and little fingers of Joshua’s right hand curl back, thumb over, first and middle fingers extended.

“Problem?” Joshua asked gently.

“Nothing … nothing that can’t be dealt with, I hope,” Greet said hurriedly. “You know he’s got cover with him? They’re contract talent, not working for me, so I can’t call them off.”

Joshua showed no concern.

“He’s fresh from a job,” Greet went on. “He’s got his stash in a safe in his suite.”

“Half a dozen jobs,” Joshua corrected. “He went on a spree in the Federation. Hit them high, hit them low. Like he usually operates. But this time he scattered a few bodies around, and people decided enough was enough. So he’s mine.”

Greet grimaced. “I remember — gracious, it must be ten years ago — I warned him about getting excited. I told him most beings don’t get nearly as concerned about property as they do about blood. But I guess it’s in his genes or something.”

“You still haven’t told me about your problem.”

“Not with Innokenty. I can’t give him to you gift-wrapped; there’s some other guests I’ve got around who think well of him, but I know you don’t give a tinker’s darn about that. The problem is, he’s got a buyer inbound.”

“Who?”

“His name’s Sutro. He’s a pro. I’ve dealt with him before. You bag Khodyan, I’ll have to give him some kind of explanation.”

“Tell him what you will,” Joshua said indifferently. “You’ll have something. You always do. As for the real ‘problem,’ I assume you’re taking a flat five percent off the top.”

“Ten,” Greet corrected. “And his expenses.”

“You’ll get fifteen from me. Before I lift.”

“Then we
don’t
have any problems, do we?”

“Not a one,” Joshua said.

Greet’s jowls creased as he beamed, relaxed, knocked back his second drink, and raised a finger. “Leong,” he ordered. “Two more. And Mister — ”

“I’m flying true colors.”

“ — Mister Wolfe’s bill is comped.”

Joshua drained his snifter without chasing it. He waited until the barman had arrived with another round and then departed. “Thanks, Ben,” he said. “As a favor, I’ll try to keep things down to a dull roar and not upset your other guests. One thing. Don’t get cute. I’m not fond of surprises.”

Once more Greet looked worried. “Joshua, I gave my word. You’ll have no problems from me or any of my staff. I’m telling the truth. You believe me, don’t you?”

Joshua ringed Greet’s wrist lightly with two fingers of his left hand. His eyes half closed, then opened fully. “I believe,” he said, “you’re telling the truth. For right here and right now. Don’t change. Life’ll be a lot simpler that way.”

“You have my promise.” Greet stood, remembered his drink, and poured it down. “I’ll be around … if you need me for anything.”

“One more thing, Ben,” Joshua said. “That Armagnac you’re pouring’s never been within five light-years of Earth. Maybe you want to have a chat with somebody about that.”

• • •

An hour later Lil made her entrance. Two drinkers at the bar swung and gaped, and one emaciated old man at a nearby table rudely forgot what he was cooing to a bejeweled woman certainly not his granddaughter and followed her passage with enchantment.

Joshua stood as she came to the table he’d moved to. Now he was drinking only ice water.

“Well?” Lil wore solid black, her classically-lined evening gown high-necked, ending just below the knee but slit on either side to midthigh. A single gem at her throat threw colored reflections back at the overhead lights.

Joshua smiled broadly, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. “I am honored,” he said formally. “I surely won’t have to worry about anyone noticing
me
tonight.” He bowed her into a chair and motioned for the barman.

Lil giggled as she slid a little awkwardly into her seat. “I don’t have a handle yet on how to do this,” she confided. “I don’t have anything on under this, and you’re the only one who gets the leg show for free.”

“Yes, sir?” Leong asked. A professional — his eyes mostly stayed on Joshua.

“Champagne for the lady …” Joshua lifted an inquiring eye to Lil, who nodded enthusiastically. “Water for me.”

“You’re not drinking?” Lil sounded disappointed.

“Maybe some wine. With dinner.”

“This outfit really didn’t cost that much,” Lil said hurriedly. “It was on sale. The man said it was last year’s, but I really, really liked it. And the rock’s a synth, so — ”

“Lil. Shut up and look beautiful,” Joshua suggested. “Nobody’s asking about the price tag.”

The drinks came. Lil drank. “Now what?”

“Now we have dinner,” Joshua said.

“You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”

“When you don’t know anything, there’s nothing to tell,” Joshua said.

“I remember,” Lil said, “back on — back where I came from, I heard this story. I probably won’t tell it right. But it goes something like this: There were these two guys. Apprentice monks or some kind of religious people, anyway. They were bragging on their masters or teachers or preachers or whatever. One said his teacher could walk on water, see in the dark, and all that, a real miracle worker. The other baby monk said the miracle of
his
master was he ate when he was hungry and slept when he was tired.

“It sounds really dumb, telling it, but I never forgot that story. Sometimes I almost think I understand it. Do you?”

“Nope,” Joshua said. “Too deep for me. But I surely am hungry. Shall we reserve a table?”

• • •

The fish course had just been served when Innokenty Khodyan came into the dining room. The great chamber, all white linen, bone china, and silver, was about half-filled, and Lil had just been marveling not that there were this many crooks on Platte but that there were this many with money when the three men were escorted to their table by the maitre d’.

Khodyan was a completely nondescript human male. He wore conservative formal dining garb, as did his two bodyguards. One, who had a closely trimmed beard, came in first, eyes sweeping, clearing the room, gun hand near his waistband. Then he let the other two enter. The second gunnie made sure there wasn’t anybody in their wake.

“That’s him,” Lil whispered, eyes never leaving her dinner.

“I’m getting sloppy,” Joshua said. “You never should have known it.”

“You’re not sloppy. I spent too many years bein’ the victim not to have feelers out. You lose often enough, you get sensitive. So that’s him. What do I do? You want me to shoot somebody? Throw a scene? Or do I just jump under the table?”

Joshua, in spite of himself, grinned, full attention on Lil. “Shoot somebody? Where the hell are you hiding a gun? I thought you weren’t wearing anything but that gown you had anodized on.”

“Mister, you didn’t pay enough to be told
that
,” she said mock-primly. “A girl never tells all her secrets. You didn’t answer my question.”

“You keep eating the tilapia,” Joshua said. “But don’t distract me for a second.”

Khodyan probably was armed. His two men, Joshua thought, letting his
feelings
swirl around the table the three men were being obsequiously seated at, were as good as advertised. They laughed, smiled, joked with the maitre d’ and their client, but their attention never focused, always sweeping the room. One of them turned toward him, and Joshua concentrated on whether he thought his k’lmari might be a little overcooked as he cut off another bite. He
felt
the thug reach a verdict — one of us, celebrating, bed partner an import, not one of Greet’s doxes, possibly dangerous in the abstract, no sign of interest in us, hence only worth the note — then look elsewhere. Joshua waited a moment, then subvocalized:

“The one we seek is present.”

“I am aware. I am appreciating him. My senses are concentrated, and I am remembering completely. Will you be taking action at this time?”

“Not yet. Continue remembering.”

He motioned for the waiter as he finished the last bite on his plate, then split the last of the Pantheon Riesling between his and Lil’s glasses. “I think we are ready to order our wine for the main course. Could we have the sommelier?”

“You’re not going to do anything?” Lil possibly sounded a little disappointed.

“Of course I’m doing something. I’m going to order us some red plonk and then ask about the entrée.”

“And afterward?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe some strawberries and port?”

Lil relaxed and managed a smile. “So all you do is eat when you’re hungry and sleep when you’re tired, hmm?”

“That’s about it.”

• • •

Innokenty Khodyan seemed intent on a long, thorough spell at the trough. When Joshua and Lil had finished dessert and were leaving, the thief was still ordering, two dishes at each course. “I wish I could eat like that,” Joshua observed, not looking back as the maitre d’ ushered them out. He stopped at the desk, asked questions, and passed a coin across when he received the answers and a brochure.

Lil remained silent until they’d stepped off the slideway and the door to their suite had clicked shut. She drew a question mark in the air. Joshua’s hand brushed the wall. He
felt
no sensors, no watchers other than the passive monitors Ben Greet had installed in all the resort’s rooms.