“Your end should be low risk. The price…we’ll need to discuss.”
“So what do you have for me?” Imola inquired. “Weight and volume? Perishability? Live or inert? Live costs more.”
“Inert, as it happens. Weight and volume to be determined, though it won’t be high bulk. But you ship live cargo? How does that jibe with low risk?”
Imola smiled in satisfaction. “We solve the perishability problem by shipping all such consignments cryo-frozen. The new generation of portable cryochambers being much more reliable, with longer service cycles. Shipping deceased expats or ill-fated tourists who want to be treated or buried back home is a legitimate part of the business, see. I have a contact on the medical side who sends clients my way, or sometimes helps prep them, and if we occasionally slip in a few extras on the manifest, the documentation is all in order.”
Dada’s brows twitched up. “The cargo takes a risk.”
“For voluntary cargo, well, they’re willing. For involuntary cargo, their shippers are usually even more willing. Our losses in transit are actually lower. And it’s vastly cheaper, since they don’t have to send handlers along to thwart escapes en route. The method does depend on having adequate cryorevival facilities on the far end, but that’s not my problem.” Imola waved a didactic finger. “The trick, as always, is not to get greedy—not try to ship too often, or too many at once. There are only so many tragic accidents to go around. We reference real ones, whenever we can.”
Dada nodded approval. “Very clever. I see you’re not too old to innovate.”
“It was my son-in-law’s idea, to give credit where it’s due. My daughter married this Barrayaran boy, some years after the annexation. I wasn’t thrilled at first, but he’s come along. Junior partner. He’s the Kovaks. Our medical contact is his brother.”
“Glad to hear you’re keeping it in the family. That’s…almost always safer.” Another brief grimace of a smile.
“Heh, daughters getting married—that’s a crap shoot to make the old days look sensible. You don’t know what they’ll drag in. My other one married this Komarran fellow, who is completely useless but at least lives five jumps away. You folks’ve got the right idea out in the Whole, Shiv—pre-vetted contracts, money and considerations up front.”
“Oh, well…” Dada did not follow this up, to Tej’s relief. “Can you get local ground transport—a mid-sized cargo van, say?”
“I have vans. And loading crews.”
“That aren’t traceable back to you?”
“That could be done, too.” Imola’s eyes narrowed with interest.
“We would do our own loading. Could you get it by this weekend?”
“Probably.”
“And very private storage?”
“Could be made available.”
“Deal would be, park your van overnight in a certain underground garage in the Old Town. Send someone in on foot to drive it away in the morning. We might need a second night, in which case best have a different van. One of us will meet you separately to oversee the unloading—some of the cargo may be delicate.”
Tej tried to picture the implied scene. A bucket brigade of Arquas spaced along the Mycoborer tunnel, silently hand-carting contraband all night? They might just about do it. Heavy loads that could not be broken down might have to be regretfully abandoned—happily, this did not include gold coins. Nothing inside the old lab could be very large, though, or its original owners could not have squeezed it down through the elevator shaft, the one Grandmama had said she’d once been responsible for blowing up, as last haut woman out.
“Once our target location is cleared and the goods safely stored,” Dada went on, “the transshipping arrangements could be completed at leisure, more carefully. Possibly in small batches.”
“Where to?”
“Not known precisely yet. Out of the Barrayaran Empire; some towards the Hegen Hub, some to Escobar.”
“Makes it hard to calculate a price. You thinking percentage or flat fee?”
“Until the items reach their final destination and are disposed of, they’re solid, not liquid. I think you might prefer flat fee, now, rather than an unknown amount decanted off an unknown amount, much later.”
“Why not both?” said Imola. “Flat fee up front, to be sure all possible expenses are covered, and the percentage after success. Say, fifteen percent. That’s pretty usual.”
Dada winced slightly. “Could be. We need to move quickly and quietly.”
“For a percentage, I can do quickly and quietly. So do we have a deal?”
After a short hesitation, Dada rose and reached across the desk; a brief handshake. “Deal.”
Imola leaned back and prepared to make a note. “So what’s the address of this garage of yours?”
Dada named it. Imola’s hand froze. “Shiv, do you know what’s across the street from that building?”
“Oh, yes,” sighed Dada. “Hence our discretion.”
“You may not have spotted the scanners, but I guarantee any vehicle that parks within three blocks of ImpSec headquarters gets scrutinized somehow. And recorded.”
“Quite thoroughly scanned, entering that garage, yes. But—not leaving it. That one’s cursory, just to be sure outs match ins. We checked.”
“Ah.” Imola frowned, obviously thinking this through. His anonymous van would be arriving empty and innocent, yes. The driver would know nothing…“One of the ways I stay in business around here is that I don’t get involved with local politics. Strictly commercial, I am. Vorbarra District Guard and Imperial Customs are all bad enough. ImpSec—that’s too high up for me. Give you a nosebleed, those boys will.”
“I have no interest in local politics, myself.”
“Strictly commercial, is this?”
“I certainly hope so.”
“Hm.” Imola stared at the address on his autofiler, evidently memorizing it, then deleted the screen. “You might have said.”
“You didn’t think I’d pester you with something trivial, did you?”
“No, I suppose not. You always were a beat ahead of the rest of us, back when.” Imola sighed. “Do give my best to your lady. She’s still with you, I suppose?”
Dada nodded.
“And the rest of the clan?”
“All safe with us, for now.” Dada, Tej noticed, did not go into the distressing details about Ruby and Topaz and Eric.
“Mustering for a fresh move on Prestene, are you? Or something?”
“More or less. Or something.” Dada’s lips twitched. “Or we might buy a tropical island.”
Imola looked nonplussed at this last, but said, “Eh, good luck on that. People just don’t keep up with each other, these scattered times. Does Udine still have her fancy dance troupe? Quite the show, I heard, when you were all on Cordonah Station.”
“Her Jewels, yes. And they will dance again,” said Dada firmly. “You’ll have to stop by, next you get out that way.”
After a few more anecdotes about the Good Old Days, which sounded like the Repulsive Old Days to Tej, Dada rose and they extracted themselves, and exited to the street once more. The fog was thinning, or perhaps just condensing into a cold drizzle.
“Let’s wait in the car,” Dada directed, when they’d made their way back to the pipe-layer’s building. “No point in stepping on Star’s script.”
She slid into the driver’s side, and Dada into the seat beside her. He turned to face her.
She eyed him sideways. “You weren’t quite straight with that man. Imola. Do you trust him or not?”
“The limits of trust depend much on whether you mean to do business more than once. But it’s just good practice never to show all your cards in the first round of a deal. One must maintain reserves. Besides, what he doesn’t need to know he can’t tell, not even under fast-penta. Speaking of sound practice. He knows that game.”