“Look out!”
“Why, what—?” He saw the car come out of the blind spot to his left just as his manual controls kicked in. With a squawk, he jerked the car hard over, trying to avoid the other vehicle. There was a slight, glancing impact, putting them into a skid, about five meters above the ground. He fought the controls until the car straightened itself out and dropped the rest of the way to ground level. “God damn these Faber cars! How the hell are you supposed to—”
“You just ran that guy off into a field,” Lydia said, looking back. “Christ, Dennis. Get us out of here before the police show up!”
“Well, don’t blame me!” Cursing, he careened down the nearest side street and slammed the power to the floor, hoping their human cargo was still in one piece in the back seat.
El’ken inclined his head as the human woman Harriet bowed to him. “Academic, I am grateful for all of your assistance,” she said gravely.
“And I for yours.” El’ken gestured toward the stars overhead in his dome—in the general direction, he hoped, of where Legroeder had disappeared two weeks ago. His expression of gratitude was quite genuine. He wished he could have kept Harriet here longer, but his concerns were somewhat allayed by the recent departure of the Spacing Authority cruiser.
Harriet appeared to understand the gesture. “Let’s hope some good comes to both our peoples from that venture. But now it’s time for us to get on with our investigation. We can’t let Legroeder do all the work.”
“May I inquire how you hope to proceed?” El’ken asked the question out of genuine curiosity.
Harriet fiddled with the eyeglasses hanging from a chain around her neck—a peculiarly human mannerism. “We hope to find the trail of Legroeder’s friend Maris. And find out who killed Robert McGinnis. And why Legroeder was framed.” She paused, looking reflective. “And with your generous offer of transportation and diplomatic protection, we might actually stay out of jail long enough to do these things.”
El’ken regarded her with a certain inner tension. He desired to tell her more, and yet he couldn’t, without violating the conditions of his contact with the other side. He was not wholly certain of his knowledge, in any case. He hissed a breath through his gills and consoled himself with the thought that it would be worse to pass on wrong information than none at all. “You have people to help you, yes?”
Harriet nodded sharply. “Oh, yes. Peter, my PI, is quite good. A Clendornan. He may need to work miracles, though. Maris could be anywhere now—if she’s alive at all. When we find her kidnappers, I suspect we will have found the people who killed McGinnis.”
El’ken hesitated before speaking. So many deaths and possible deaths—all, in a way, the result of Rigger Legroeder’s escape to freedom. Ironic. But it presented great possibilities, as well. El’ken hoped he had not erred in sending Legroeder to join the undercover mission. But the Narseil urgently needed intelligence about the Free Kyber—and they even more urgently wanted to find Impris, and not just for the sake of clearing their names in history. With Legroeder they had a better chance of accomplishing both than without him.
El’ken focused on Mrs. Mahoney again. “Do not be certain that her kidnappers are the same as McGinnis’s killers,” he said finally, deciding he could say that much, at least. “And do not presume that you won’t find her alive.” And how would you know that? he thought to himself rhetorically. “I… feel… that you might find good news about this. I cannot exactly say why.” Nor could he exactly say why Robert McGinnis had died; he wanted to know that, too. He drew a soft breath and added, “And if you do learn more about these matters, I hope you will send word to me.”
“I will,” said Harriet. “Thank you. And good-bye.”
“Safe journey back,” El’ken said, extending a down-turned palm. “To you and your daughter.”
Harriet nodded, and hurried away. After she was gone, the Narseil sank back into his pool and settled slowly to the bottom. For a time he just rested there, staring up at the shimmering surface of the pool, and imagining the stars that lay beyond, out through the dome… and wondering if he had done the right thing.
“Well, are we off?” Morgan asked, looking up as her mother returned to their room.
“We are off.” Harriet went to put her last few things in her bag, then glanced back at Morgan, who was moving restlessly around the room. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” Morgan snapped.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. I just told you.”
Harriet sighed. “How long have I been your mother?”
Morgan shrugged and snapped her bag closed. “I don’t know. Seems like forever.”
“My. What’s eating you?”
Morgan sighed. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I’m just worried about Legroeder, that’s all.”
“This is professional concern, I assume?”
Morgan let out an exasperated sigh. “No, mother—I’m carrying his child. Jesus. What do you think?”
“I don’t know, dear. I was just wondering if you’d developed an emotional attachment, that’s all.” Harriet raised her eyebrows, then turned to snap her own bag shut. As she was finished, she looked back at her daughter. “Are you?”
“What?”
“Carrying his child.”
Morgan snarled softly. “No, mother. I am not carrying his child.” She grabbed both bags and headed for the door. “Let’s go, shall we?”
“Testy, testy.” Harriet followed her out of the room, chuckling.
The Narseil embassy ship was both more comfortable, and less, than the corporate ship that had brought them to the asteroid. It was larger and more luxuriously appointed, with comfortable, private compartments—at least two of which had been adapted for human occupancy. On the other hand, for all of the comforts, it felt alien to Harriet. All of the surfaces seemed either too smooth or too rough, and the light was too green, and everywhere the ship seemed to have little pools and streams that looked like instant catastrophes in the event of loss of gravity. The Narseil crew were courteous, but left them alone.
That gave them plenty of time for planning; the Narseil ship was making a leisurely trip of it back to Faber Eri, in hopes of attracting less attention from the Spacing Authority. They knew from Peter’s last communication that Harriet, at least, would be subject to arrest if she set foot outside of Narseil diplomatic territory. She was wanted on suspicion of complicity in the murder of Robert McGinnis, as well as suspicion of aiding and abetting the escape of Renwald Legroeder. She still had enough friends in influential places to have some assurance that the Narseil diplomatic protection would be honored, at least for a time. But she was going to have to come up with evidence of her innocence fairly soon—which could prove difficult, locked in the Narseil embassy.
She was more grateful than ever for Peter’s assistance. She was also determined not to stay locked up one day longer than necessary.
Rather than landing at Elmira Spaceport, the embassy ship docked in low orbit with a small diplomatic shuttle, which took them planetside and landed directly on the roof of the Narseil embassy compound. Morgan and Harriet were led inside and met by an assistant ambassador, a tall Narseil named Dendridan, who conducted them directly to their quarters. They were given adjoining bedrooms, plus a work room that already had been outfitted with a secure com-console. “We have been in touch with your investigative representative—the Clendornan?—and have set up a secure com-link for your use,” Dendridan said.