Earlier I had also taken advantage of Tera's and Shawn's preoccupation withthe computer to do a quiet check of their cabins, but both searches came up empty.
Neither of them had a cache of hidden weapons, secret Patth code books, orinstruction manuals on how to sabotage a starship. On the other hand, I foundnothing in Tera's cabin to confirm that she was a member of any of thosefirst-name-only religious sects, either. Perhaps she was just the cautioustypewho didn't like giving her full name to strangers.
Overall, crew morale didn't fare very well during that leg of the trip.
Everett's private reservations about going to a criminal hellhole like MorshPon didn't stay private very long, and starting about two hours into the trip Ihad him, Shawn, and Tera all campaigning for me to find someplace else for ournext fueling stop. Nicabar and Chort didn't join in the chorus, but in Nicabar'scase I had the distinct feeling he was wondering if I'd chosen Morsh Pondeliberatelyto make sure he and Tera couldn't find anyone more trustworthy to replace me.
In short, it was a frustrating, aggravating three and a half days for all ofus.
And with Morsh Pon waiting, I wasn't expecting it to get any better at the farend.
It was late afternoon and early evening across the main Morsh Pon colony areawhen we arrived over the planet, with the sunset line probably an hour pastthe Blue District that was our destination. We were the only ship incoming, thoughI spotted a couple of other freighters on their way out, all of them running IDsthat were probably as phony as ours. I gave the control center our destinationport, got a rectangle assignment, and eased the Icarus down into the darkness.
The others were all waiting in the wraparound by the time I'd secured theship, called for a fueling team, and made my way aft. The entryway hatch wasunopened; by common consent, apparently, they'd all decided I should get the honor ofbeing first in line for any stray shots that might be flying around out there.
Leaving my plasmic in its holster—Nicabar aside, none of the others knew aboutthe weapon, and I didn't feel the need to enlighten them—I keyed the hatch andwaited tautly as it swung ponderously open. This particular spaceport didn'thave any of the nice concave landing cradles we'd had at our last couple ofstops, with the result that I was looking out over the landscape from avantagepoint ten meters up.
I'd never actually been on Morsh Pon before, but I couldn't imagine the viewwas any better up here than it would be at ground level. Even in the admittedlybad street light, the tavernos, flophouse brothels, and other assorted dives thatcrowded into the spaces between the various landing-pad clusters looked dingyand unfriendly. Most of the buildings had darkened windows and doorways, addingtheir individual bits to the overall gloom. Across the strip of buildingsfacingus was an empty pad cluster, looking rather like a bald spot amid the unevenrows of buildings encircling it. A few stars were visible in the darkeningsky, but even they seemed subdued, as if they didn't really want to look down atthe Blue District, either.
"Interesting," Ixil murmured from beside me. "Where is everyone?"
I frowned, looking at the scene with new eyes. He was right. I'd already notedthe dark buildings and empty landing-pad cluster directly in front of me; now, leaning partially out of the entryway, I could see that none of the nearestlanding clusters was occupied. In the distance I could see what might have been the curved hulls of a pair of ships, and a couple hundred meters off to myrightI could see a single taverno with its doorway lights on. But that was it.
Virtually no ships, virtually no open businesses, no vehicles except for thefueler I could see heading our way along an access road, and no pedestrians atall. It was as if we'd landed in a ghost town.
"Hey, Everett, I thought you said this place was crawling with murderers andpirates," Shawn said accusingly. "So where are they?"
"I don't know," Everett muttered behind me. "Something's wrong. Something'sverywrong."
"Did Landing Control say anything when you checked in?" Nicabar asked.
"Disease, plague, quarantine—anything?"
"Not a word," I said, studying the single lit taverno I could see. We were toofar away for me to read the nameplate, but knowing Uncle Arthur I was willingto bet it was the Baker's Dozen, the place he'd named in our last conversation.
"Maybe they can tell us something in there," I suggested, pointing to it.
"Anyone want to join me for a little stroll?"
"Not me," Everett said firmly. "If there's some disease out there, I don'twant to catch it."
"Landing Control's legally required to alert incoming ships about medicaldangers," I reminded him.
"And this is Morsh Pon, where they use laws for place mats," Everett counteredfirmly. "Thanks, but I'll stay here."
"Me, too," Shawn seconded.
"I'll go with you," Tera said. "I need to get out of this ship for a while."
"Count me in, too," Nicabar added.
"Sure," I said, completely unsurprised by this one. Neither Tera nor Nicabarwould be nearly as concerned about possible germs as they would be that Imightsneak off and do something they wouldn't approve of. "Chort? Ixil?"
"I will come," Chort said. "Perhaps the taverno will have a bottle of komprifor sale."
"They might," I said, wondering what kompri was. Some Craean drink, probably.
"What about you, Ixil?"
"I want to get the fuelers started first," he said. "I'll try to join youlater."
"Okay," I said, pretending to believe him as I swung around and started downthe ladder. He most certainly would not be joining us; he would be staying hereand watching Everett and Shawn like an iguana-faced hawk. "We won't be long."
It was an eerie walk down the deserted access walkway, our footsteps soundingunnaturally loud in the silence. I looked into each doorway and alley as wepassed it, half expecting to see dark men or aliens waiting in the darkness toambush us. But the doorways were just as deserted as the rest of the place.
We reached the taverno without incident, to find it was indeed the Baker'sDozen. The others close behind me, I pulled open the door and looked inside.
The place was quite large, a bit on the dark side, but otherwise surprisinglyhomey, with heavy wooden tables and chairs, a traditional Earth-style woodenbar running the length of the left-hand wall, and even a sunken fireplace, currentlyunlit, in the center of the room. It was also severely underpopulated. Therewas a group of a dozen scruffy-looking aliens gathered around three of the tablesnear the bar, a pirate gang if ever I'd seen one; a pair of young humanfemales sitting together at a table near the right-hand wall; and three robed andhooded figures with faces hidden hunched over a table in the far back corner. Andthat was it. Behind the bar, a furry-faced Ulkomaal was leaning on the countertopgazing morosely at the dead fireplace. He looked up as I walked into the room, his bony eyebrow crest turning a faint purple with surprise. "So that wasanother ship I heard," he said, straightening up. "Welcome, patronae, welcome."
"Thanks," I said, glancing around at the other customers. The pirates hadlooked up as we entered, but after a quick assessment had turned back to theirdrinks.
The two women were still eyeing us; the robed threesome in the back hadn'teven bothered to turn around. Maybe they were already too drunk to care, though thecollection of empty glasses traditionally associated with sleeping drunkswasn't in evidence. On the other hand, I could see that none of the tables had menuselectors, which meant the barkeep also doubled as a waiter, and from thelooks of things he certainly wasn't too busy to keep the place tidy. "You stillserving?"