Tybalt smiled at the images conjured. He looked up. "Oh, by the way. Sassan spies have been all over. They're looking frantically for Staffa. Have you found him yet? Please, do get him under wraps and get back here. This place is dreadfully boring without you."
The holo died.
Ily leaned forward and tapped a button on the Director's desk. "Kapstan! Get your pus-rotted body in here!"
The Director trotted through the door, a cadaverous figure in a formfitting black robe. His thin, humorless face had already turned pale from dread. "Good news from the Emperor, I hope?"
She slitted her eyes and studied him as if gazing at some curious insect. The Director stiffened and clamped his jaws to keep them from quivering.
"No, Kapstan. It wasn't the recall you hoped I'd get." She saw him wilt at her accusation and continued. "It's been a putrid week that I've been here! Are your people so incompetent that they can't locate a single man?" She slapped the table and jumped to her feet.
"But the number of possibilities!" He spread his hands, palms up imploringly. "Just consider the number of interviews—"
"I'm finished with your vile excuses!" she hissed. "If you had your channels set up, if you had your agents working efficiently, you'd have a file on every person landing on this sun-scorched and sand-blasted rock! Skyla Lyma got here, talked to the CV pilot, stepped on the shuttle and, by the Pustulant Gods, she disappeared Ily ground her teeth, jaw muscles standing from her pale flesh. "What must I think about an Internal Security Director who can't follow a subject planetside when he knows which pus-dripping shuttle the subject is on"
She let her eyes do the rest. Kapstan's mouth worked in misery as the silence lingered. He looked down at his boots to avoid her gaze and finally defended, "The personnel responsible have been disciplined for their lack—"
"Discipline ends with the final responsible party! That's you, Director!"
He stiffened and paled.
Despite Ily's frustrated rage, she enjoyed his discomfort. How many strong men had cowered before Director Kapstan's hard glare. How many had he broken and left as human wreckage? And in a few words, she had him ready to foul his neatly tailored britches.
In the long silence Associate Director Tyklat tapped at the door. "Your pardon Director?" he called uncertainly, his nervousness evident from the expression on his long black face. "I think I found the subject."
Ily turned to look, an eyebrow raised. "Where?"
Tyklat entered and deposited a printout on the desk. "It came to me last night. er, this morning actually. After I'd exhausted everything else, I had the comm system search the court dockets."
"I did that, already," Kapstan fumed. "If there'd been any listing of Staffa kar Therma, it—"
"Shut up!" Ily ordered, her dark gaze probing Tyklat. Her voice dropped to an encouraging, "Tell me." She leaned forward, seeing the sudden excitement in his eyes. Good man this, he taes his ob seriously.
"Well, I, uh, I mean the Director had already searched the dockets. I just widened the search, letting it run for any mention of the Star Butcher, Staffa, Companions, or Itreata."
"And you found. " she prompted, flipping her long black hair over her
shoulder. Kapstan began shifting from foot to foot.
"I found an alleged madman who claimed to be Staffa kar Therma," Tyklat said, his brow creasing. "He was accused of being robbed and, according to his testimony, he killed two of the assailants. The judge thought he was raving and sentenced him to the Warden for public duty."
"Rotted Gods! Staffa… in the collar?" She chuckled wryly. "Have him brought to… No." She clapped her hands, thinking, running her tongue over her lips. "There's more to be gained if I go to him. Take me to him. I trust he's in the city someplace?"
"He's—"
"Take you to him? By all means Minister," Kapstan smiled, cutting off Tyklat and taking her arm. "I told you I'd have this handled quickly and competently."
She froze, eyes gleaming as she looked into his suddenly shocked face. "Take your hand off my arm."
"My apology Minister. I didn't think—"
"No, you didn't."
"Excuse me," Tyklat said, bowing his head to leave.
"Stay!" Ily ordered and the young man stopped, gaze flicking warily between her and the Director. "Officer Tyklat. You have demonstrated efficiency and dedication. I have a feeling you conducted most of this search. Correct?"
He met her eyes and she could see the truth in his guarded expression. Very good, he wouldn't rat on a superior — even one as worthless as Kapstan.
"By my authority, Tyklat, I place you in charge of Etarian Internal Security. Your duties start as of this moment."
Kapstan's mouth dropped. "But I have a commission from the Emperior himself! You can't…" his breath sucked in as he looked down.
Ily's dart pistol hiccuped twice. Kapstan swallowed, terrified eyes going wide. His body slammed face first onto the thick rug. Ily dropped her tiny weapon into its belt holster and turned to Tyklat. "I believe you'll have time to clean
your office later. Right now, take me to Staffa kar Therma."
"Yes, Minister Takka." He bowed cautiously. Well, good. That placed another of her men in the Empire.
The car met her at the main entrance. She extended her arm and was pleased to see he didn't hesitate to take it.
"Tyklat, things are about to change drastically in the Empire. Are you aware of that?"
He appraised her coolly. "I take it you mean in addition to the coming war with the Sassan Empire?"
"I do." She studied him carefully as she pulled her long hair back over one shoulder. "There may be totally unexpected political upheavals. Tell me, where do you put your loyalty?"
He nodded, smooth black skin glistening in the brilliant sunlight. "I think I understand Minister. You have elevated me to this position; I am duly grateful."
"Discreetly done, Tyklat." She patted his arm.
"I didn't get to be Kapstan's second through idiocy Minister." He kept his features straight, but she could see his hidden smile of triumph.
"Call me Ily. Those whom I trust do. You will need to open two channels, one official — don't worry, Tybalt will approve your promotion — and one private. The second will be 'eyes only,' yours and mine. There may be irregular requests. Be prepared."
"I understand. I shall not disappoint you." His mouth twitched with an unspoken question.
She laughed, reading his interest. "You're my kind of man, Tyklat. I think you and I will do admirably together, and, yes, I do reward my people very, very well."
The car settled at the entrance to the Warden's pens. A guard met them halfway, shooing away some brown-robed Etarian tart he'd been talking to. The woman walked off several steps and leaned against the wall, veiled face hidden. Lover, no doubt.
"Staffa who?" the guard asked, eyes straying back to the woman he'd been talking to.
Tyklat supplied: "Registration number seven six four nine two zero. I called and they said they'd have the slave ready to be picked up."
The guard tapped a code on his wrist. "Desert duty. He's
laying pipe on the new water line. Supposedly, it's an equipment breakdown." The guard shrugged. "Actually, the contractor wants too much money to string pipe. We can do it cheaper, if slower, with slaves. Besides, there's a surplus of bodies right now. Ever since the Maikan conquest we've been overcrowded."