So they drifted in over the deserted quays like a ghost through mist. According to the information Liatris had hacked from the invaders' network, several paramilitary squads had been deployed round the perimeter of the docks, supported by ten armed capsules, to secure their immediate footprint. Nobody was watching the dock's long river frontage.
Beckia McKratz had infiltrated the dock's original commercial network, skilfully manipulating the nodes with software that opened up channels without the management monitors being aware of anything untoward. Even before they reached land she'd assumed complete command of a giant cargo warehouse belonging to the Bootel & Leicester import agency. As they passed above an empty barge repair bay just outside she opened one of the plyplastic doors, and the starship slipped into the dark enclosed space beyond, dripping cold rain onto the enzyme-bonded concrete floor. The door shut silently behind them, and five rounded pedestal legs swelled out from the base of the hull. Oscar landed them next to a tall stack of yellow and green cargo crates containing civil engineering excavators manufactured offworld.
'Down and safe, Oscar said, letting out a long breath of relief.
'We're safe, Tomansio said cheerfully. 'I don't fancy anyone else's chances.
When Mellanie's Redemption dropped out of hyperspace four thousand kilometres above Sholapur, Troblum looked down on a continent rolling slowly into the dawn. The bright new light illuminated a wide monsoon building just off the subtropical coast where the city state of Ikeo squatted amid spectacularly craggy landscape. He studied the weather with interest. There weren't many monsoons on Sholapur, but those that did materialize tended towards the fierce. It would reach the land in less than two hours.
On the chair opposite him in the starship's cabin, the solido of Catriona Saleeb lounged back, smiling contentedly. She pushed a hand through her curly black hair, a languid movement he always found sensual. 'That storm could help us, she said in her husky voice.
Trisha Marina Halgarth's solido walked across the small floor space to Catriona. She wore a pair of tight black leather jeans, and a small pure-white T-shirt to show off a nicely athletic body.
Green butterfly-wing OCtattoos quivered slowly across her cheeks as she wriggled herself on to the cushioning beside Catriona. The two girls put their arms comfortably round each other; Trisha flexed her bare toes. 'Do you think so? she asked Catriona.
'It's going to take hours to pass across Ikeo. That'll mess up sensors, no matter how sophisticated they are. There will be force fields on over most estates, which will block a lot of low angle scanning. That's to our advantage, isn't it Troblum, darling?
'Could be, he admitted. What he would have liked was Isabella Halgarth's opinion on the situation, but he'd lost her I-sentient personality program when he'd left the Accelerator Faction station, using it in a projector to convince the sensors his starship was still sitting passively in the docking bay. Isabella had an altogether more devious outlook than the other girls, which would have made her ideal to analyse forthcoming events.
'Not if you try and arrive during the storm, Tricia said. 'Even with this ship's ingrav you'll be struggling to hold level in the winds. Best you leave it to provide cover if you have to leave in a hurry.
Troblum accessed the external sensor imagery again. It was a large storm. Even from this height he could see flashes of sheet lightning ripping through the dark clouds. At his request the smartcore overlaid the sensor patterns guarding Ikeo from uninvited intruders. The Mellanie's Redemption could sneak through unnoticed. Probably. But it would be a close fought electronic battle. And Tricia was right, the storm would produce a particularly difficult environment to fly through. He ran a passive scan for orbiting ships, but there was no inbound or outbound traffic that he could detect, just Sholapur's small band of geosynchronous satellites. 'Activate our full stealth suite and take us down, he told the smartcore; then pulled up a map of the city, and designated a small valley five miles from Stubsy Florae's home, just outside the estate's official boundary.
Troblum was sweating with worry as they descended through the last levels of cloud. Then they were past the cold vapour, and the rugged land was only two kilometres below. In the wan predawn light the starship blended perfectly into the grey overcast sky as it sank fast through the clear air. He landed it next to some tall palm-equivalent trees that were already starting to wave about as the wind built up.
To visit Stubsy Florae he selected an armoured fabric one-piece he could wear under his toga suit. Then he ran a fast check on the biononics which produced his integral force field to make sure of their functionality. In combination, the armour and shielding should be able to stop a great many weapons, but he didn't delude himself about their ultimate ability if a fully enriched Advancer agent cornered him. For a moment he considered taking a weapon. There were two jelly guns stashed away in a locker. Both of which would need charging. But he didn't have any experience in physical combat, his biononics could produce a respectable distortion pulse if pushed, and besides Stubsy wouldn't like him carrying that kind of hardware into his home. It was going to be bad enough turning up unannounced and then asking for a further favour. So he left the guns in the locker and went into the airlock.
There was a one-man regrav scooter stowed in a midship cargo hold. Troblum gave it a suspicious stare as it floated out to hover a couple of centimetres above the thick blue-tinged grass. He hadn't used it in decades. It looked uncomfortably small now, and it bobbed about alarmingly under his weight as he tried to lift his leg over the saddle. It took three attempts, but he eventually managed to sit astride it, wincing at what he was sure was a pulled muscle just above his hip. Biononics went to work tracking down and repairing the cells in his overstrained flesh. A transparent plyplastic visor unfurled from the front of the scooter, producing a streamlined hemisphere to shield the rider from the slipstream, though it had to curve outwards to enclose Troblum. He directed the little craft towards Stubsy's grand villa just outside the valley, keeping his speed to a prudent fifty kilometres an hour at a three metre altitude.
While he was travelling, his u-shadow analysed all the spaceports whose networks were connected to the sparse planetary cybersphere. It produced a list of starships currently on the ground, none of which were Earth-registered. Hardly complete, he acknowledged, but then he was fairly sure that Paula Myo wouldn't draw attention to herself here, which is undoubtedly what an Earth registration would do. Nor was there a ship that fitted the profile of an Accelerator agent. If anyone was here for him, they weren't out in the open.
His scooter arrived at the line of slim silver pillars which marked out the boundary of Stubsy's estate. His field functions reported several sensors locking on as he slowed. He called Stubsy's code. It took a disconcertingly long time for the dealer to answer.
'Troblum, man, is that you out there?
'Of course it's me. Will you let me through your perimeter, please.
'I didn't know you were on Sholapur. You didn't land at Ikeo spaceport.
'I told you I needed discretion for our last transaction.
'Yeah, yeah, right.
Troblum gave the silver pillars an uneasy glance. He was feeling very alone and exposed out here. 'Are you going to let me in?
'Right. Yeah. Sure. I've cleared you through the defence systems. Come on in.
The top of the two pillars in front of him turned green. Troblum eased the scooter forward between them, tensing up as he passed over the line. When nothing happened he breathed easier.
Beyond the big white villa, a dense curtain of rain was heading in across the steel-grey sea. As he settled in front of the high glass doors Troblum looked down the long slope to the lovely little cove below. There was no sign of Stubsy's glide-boat anchored offshore.