"Let's hope our murderer remembers that," Ixil said pointedly, standing up andheading for the door. "And doesn't have too inflated an opinion of his ownpiloting skills. I'll talk to you later."
He left, leaving the door locked open behind him. I confirmed the vector andtiming to Utheno, then shut down the plotting table and returned to my commandchair. And tried to think.
Our talk with Tera had been good. It had been enlightening and, assumingalwaysthat everything she had told us was true, very useful as well.
The problem was that it had also swept away the whole fragile toothpick-houseI'd worked so painstakingly to put together since Jones's murder. Before, I'dhad a puzzle where the pieces didn't seem to fit together. Now, suddenly, not only had she swept away the pieces, she'd swept away the damn puzzle, too. Theattacks on Jones and Chort, the sabotage to the cutting torch, the anonymoustips to the various customs and port authorities—every time lightning hadstruck I had carefully added the details to the rest of the mix, making sure toinclude the locations of all the possible suspects during that time. And while Ididn't kid myself that I'd sorted it out into a neat package, at least I'd beengettinga handle on it all.
Now, suddenly, everything had changed. Half the sabotage had been done by Teraand her father, a character I hadn't even known was on this particular stageof our little drama, and for reasons far less malevolent than their results wouldhave suggested. And with that confession, my careful checklist of who had beenwhere when went straight out the airlock. In fact, about all I had left toexplain was the gem-smuggling tip to the Najik on Potosi and the poison-gascomponents and smashed release pad on Ixil's room. And, of course, Jones'smurder.
And the damnable part of it was that those were precisely the incidents thatno one had any possible alibi for. Anyone aboard could have sabotaged Jones'srebreather prior to his accompanying Chort on his spacewalk; and everyone wasout on their own during the time Ixil's room was tampered with.
Everyone. Including Tera.
Because Ixil's opinions to the contrary, I still hadn't eliminated her as asuspect. Far from it. The photo Uncle Arthur had sent wasn't nearly definitiveenough for me to accept her claimed identity, and it was for sure that if thereal Elaina Tera Cameron was running around the Spiral somewhere else we'dnever hear about it here on the Icarus. True, she'd known about the hull's alien gravgenerator; but if she was actually one of the archaeologists or techs, shewould have also known about that. Uncle Arthur had said the Ihmisits had rounded upthe whole group, but without knowing his source for that information I wasforced to consider it incomplete if not downright suspect. As to the rest ofher story, I hadn't actually seen Cameron aboard the Icarus, and I sure couldn'tconfirm that he was the one I'd chased leisurely around the 'tweenhull area.
And I couldn't help noticing the interesting timing of the Patth infiltratingthe Meima dig with a couple of Lumpies just when the Icarus was ready to fly.
It could be coincidence, or something in their own external intelligence hadcaughtthe roving Patth eye; but it could also be that they'd had an agent inside thedig itself. We had only Tera's word that she wasn't that agent.
But then, we had only everyone else's word for who they were, too. Tera hadsaid Cameron had kept her presence on Meima close to the vest. Maybe he'd done thesame with someone else as well, shielding this agent's presence even from hisown daughter. It was the sort of double-blind stunt a man like Cameron mightwell have pulled; as Tera herself had said, you couldn't tell what you didn'tknow. Perhaps it was that second string to Cameron's bow who had been subornedby the Patth, or had simply decided he was tired of a tech's salary and thatthis was his big chance to retire in comfort.
And if that was true, it might finally explain why we were still free. Eitherour traitor hadn't turned us in to the Patth yet because he was waiting forthe price to go up, or else because he suspected another of Cameron's people wasaboard and didn't want to show his hand until he'd figured out who it was.
So why was Jones murdered?
Had he known something damaging to the murderer? Or, conversely, had themurderer been afraid he might learn something that he, the murderer, couldn'tafford for anyone else to know? It had to be something that a ship's mechanicmight learn through his normal duties, or else the follow-up attack on Ixildidn't make any sense.
Unless the poison-gas threat had been just a smoke screen. Maybe all Mr. X hadwanted to do was get rid of Jones, and had pulled the cyanide threat on Ixilto make it look like he had a grudge against anyone who tried to fill themechanic post on the Icarus. After all, Ixil hadn't even come close to dying on thatone.
I scowled some more at my displays. This was getting me nowhere except dizzy.
What could a perfect stranger like Jones—a perfect stranger to the rest of theIcarus's crew, anyway—possibly know that would be worth killing him over?
Perhaps the fact that, despite his claims about his mechanical skills, Nicabardidn't actually know one end of a wrench from another? But why would even anegregious bending of the truth be worth murder? Besides, Uncle Arthur'sprofileon Nicabar had shown that he did have those skills. Was it something aboutChort, then? Or Everett, or Shawn?
A rumbling in my stomach intruded on my thoughts, an audible reminder that ithad been a long time since my last meal. Giving the displays one last check, Igot up and headed back to the dayroom just aft of the bridge. The ship couldlook after itself long enough for me to put together a quick sandwich, andmaybea liter or two of coffee would help me think. Though from the evidence todate, I doubted it.
I had assembled a sandwich from the rather unimaginative selection of ship'sstores, and was pouring coffee into a spill-proof mug, when I caught the soundof a light footstep outside the door. I turned, and to my complete lack ofsurprise found Chort framed in the doorway. "Excuse me, Captain McKell," hesaid in his whistly voice. "I did not mean to intrude."
"No intrusion at all," I assured him, waving him in. "The dayroom's commonproperty, you know. Come in, come in."
"Thank you," he said, moving somewhat hesitantly into the room. "I know thatthe dayroom is usually a common area. But here it does not seem to be so."
"The Icarus is an unusual ship," I reminded him, picking up my plate and mugand settling down at the table. So far on this trip I hadn't really had the chanceto talk with Chort, and this seemed the ideal opportunity to do so. "And we'reflying under very unusual conditions," I added. "Our crew doesn't have theusual cohesion of people who've traveled a lot together." I eyed him speculatively.
"Though maybe that doesn't mean all that much to you. You haven't been at thissort of thing very long, have you?"
His feathery scales fluttered slightly. "Is it so very obvious?"
I shrugged. "Maybe a little," I said. "I wouldn't worry about it, though.
You're a Craea; and somehow you people have space travel in your blood."
"Perhaps." His beak clicked softly twice, the first time I'd heard him makethat sound. "Or perhaps that is merely a myth."
"If it is, there are an awful lot of people who've swallowed it," I told him, taking a bite of my sandwich. "There's a terrific demand out there for Craeanspacewalkers."
"Perhaps the demand is justifiable," he said, eyeing me closely. "But perhapsit is not. Tell me, what did Ship Master Borodin tell you about this mission?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, frowning. Mission, he'd said. Not trip or voyage.
Mission. "I was hired to fly the Icarus from Meima to Earth. Why, did he tellyou something else?"
"Not something else, exactly," he said, those pure white eyes still studyingme with a discomfiting intensity. "But he said there was something more involvedhere."
He stopped. "Go on," I encouraged him, taking another bite of sandwich so asnot to look too eager.
He gave it another couple of heartbeats before he finally went on. "Twelveothers were trying to hire me at the Craean employment site on Meima," hesaid.