The icarus job, p.25
The Icarus Job, page 25
part #3 of The Icarus Series Series
And air systems, as I’d learned a long time ago, could be very handy.
The lower grille was fastened to its housing with four screws, one in each corner. I unscrewed them, took off the grille, and shined my light inside. The duct ran horizontally for about ten centimeters, then made a right-angle turn and continued straight up. The inner walls had probably started out smooth, but years of sitting untended in the underground damp had left patches of corrosion and pockmarks where some of the metal had flaked off.
I’d be surprised if any of Cherno’s people had even considered the possibilities the ducts offered to someone like me. But then, I’d be surprised if any of them had ever seen a Kalix and his outriders in action.
Fortunately for me, I had.
As was usual for systems that didn’t have to support any weight except its own, the ducts were made of soft and fairly thin metal. A few minutes with my multitool’s auger, and I’d reamed out the screw receptacles enough that the fasteners simply rested inside without the threads engaging anything. I replaced the grille, slipped in the decorative but now useless fasteners, and headed back down the tunnel to the warehouse and the portal.
Two minutes later, I was once again on Meima.
I arrived in the receiver module to find McKell striding along beneath me heading for the launch module. “It’s all right,” I called down to him. “I’m here.”
He looked up, his determined expression momentarily softening, then roaring back full strength with a side order of anger. “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.
“Looking around a little,” I said, wishing I could speed up my downward drift. Floating helplessly in the air, I was in perfect position for McKell to unload whatever choice invective he’d picked up during his long-past days in the EarthGuard auxiliary.
“I thought I said no recon.”
“This wasn’t a recon,” I protested. “I was just looking around a little.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Recon requires you to fill out paperwork.”
I could tell he wanted to roll his eyes at that one. But he didn’t, probably figuring it would be beneath him as my supposed superior to show that kind of reaction. Besides, I’d come back in one piece and not bleeding, and that surely counted for something. “So?”
“It’s the other end of Cherno’s Gemini, all right,” I confirmed. “There were no guards, either by the portal or in the tunnel leading into the mansion.”
“I’d make a small wager that there are eyes on the other end of the elevator.”
“Not a wager I would take,” I agreed. “But there’s an air duct by the elevator that one of Ixil’s outriders—”
“Hold on,” McKell interrupted. “If we’re going to talk strategy, let’s take it outside. No point having to go through it twice.”
Five minutes later we’d rejoined the others on the surface, Selene had expressed relief that I was back, Ixil had added his own vote of disapproval of my actions, and they were finally ready to hear my plan.
“As I was telling McKell, there’s an opening to a ventilation grille at the bottom of the elevator shaft that Pix or Pax should be able to get into,” I said. “It’ll be a straight-up climb, but the duct metal is soft and a bit corroded, so I’m hoping navigation won’t be too much of a problem.”
“How big is the duct cross-section?” Ixil asked.
“About like this,” I said, making a frame with my hands.
“That should work,” Ixil confirmed. “I assume you want him to be a scout?”
“Not a scout,” I corrected. “A courier.”
I laid out my plan for them. Midway through the explanation, Selene pulled out her info pad and started silently working it. “I know the gadget I need exists,” I concluded. “I’ve seen them once or twice. The question is whether we can find one in Barcarolle, or even just somewhere on Meima.”
“And find one that’s small enough to be carried through the ducts,” McKell added.
“There’s that,” I conceded. “Ixil?”
“The dimensions are really the only question,” he said, holding out his arm as Pax came trotting up with the latest scouting report. “Pix and Pax can carry considerable weight, even with the kind of climb you describe.”
“I’m not finding anything readily available for sale in the area,” Selene reported. “But do you really need something that specialized?”
“She may be right,” Ixil said as Pax climbed up his arm and sunk his claws into the Kalix’s shoulder. There was a moment of silence while Ixil retrieved the creature’s visual memories, then a second moment while he issued the animal his new patrol instructions, and Pax was off again across the landscape. “It sounds like the analysis software is the trickiest part,” he continued. “We should be able to put something together that will function well enough for what we need.”
“I have no idea how to do that,” I admitted. “But I’m sure you two are way better at gadgetry improv than I am. The question is whether you can throw something together in the next day or so.”
“I think we can,” Ixil said. “Is that when you’re going back?”
“That was my thought,” I said. “Cherno’s probably getting pretty nervous, and having us show up a few days ahead of his deadline should help calm him down.”
“There’s one other thing to consider,” McKell said, his voice going a shade darker. “Once he knows the Gemini is active, does he really need you and Selene anymore?”
I felt my stomach tighten. “Good question,” I said. “Not sure I’ve got an answer for it yet.”
“Well, let’s be sure we do before you go charging off,” McKell said. “We don’t have any cavalry available to send to the rescue.”
“Understood,” I said. “First things first. We need you to make me my new toy.” I nodded toward the hole. “And we need to disguise this thing somehow.”
“Already covered,” McKell said. “Here’s what we have in mind . . . ”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
McKell called his technique hiding the tree in the forest. I called it work the new guy until he drops.
As my father used to say, The new guy always gets the pointed end of the stick. Try not to be the new guy.
The concept was straightforward enough. We had a big, brand-new hole that might as well include a banner inviting the Patth and everyone else to take a closer look. McKell’s solution was to seal up the portal, ladle enough dirt on top to hide the metal and make it look like we’d given up, then dig three more holes roughly the same size and depth elsewhere in the field.
It was a reasonable enough plan, I had to admit, especially as sundown approached and Ixil suggested McKell and I just start a fifth hole as if planning to come back the next morning. With four and a quarter major pits, the promise of more to come, and a whole field full of the pilot holes McKell’s team had dug earlier, the Patth could spend days trying to find whatever it was we were looking for.
The downside was sweat, fatigue, and the promise that a lot of previously underutilized muscles were going to ache the next day.
“I assume you want us to come back tomorrow and do more digging?” I asked as we loaded the shovels back into McKell’s runaround.
“No, I’ll put our other people on it,” McKell said. “They might as well earn their keep. You and Selene should focus on how you’re going to play things once your new gadget is ready.”
“With special emphasis on how to stay alive once Cherno knows his Gemini is functional,” Ixil added.
“It’s at the top of our list,” I promised. “Let us know when the gizmo is ready.”
My arm and back muscles were already stiffening up as we returned our runaround to the stand and walked back to the Ruth. My rumbling stomach reminded me that we hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and for a moment I enjoyed a private fantasy of Nikki, freshly back from the StarrComm center, surprising us with a hot meal laid out on the dayroom table.
Sadly, there was no meal awaiting us.
Neither was there a Nikki.
“She was here, though, wasn’t she?” I called back to Selene as I looked into the dayroom. There was no sign that she’d cooked or eaten anything in there since our departure, or for that matter had even dropped in.
“Yes,” Selene called back from her own inspection of the engine room. “Her scent is fresh.”
“So, a few hours?”
“Less,” Selene said. “Probably less than an hour.”
“And no notes?” I asked, opening the hatch to her cabin for a quick peek inside. She hadn’t answered a knock when Selene and I had first arrived, but I needed to make sure she hadn’t been taken ill or was otherwise incapacitated. No one inside. I started to close the hatch—
And stopped. Lying on her bed was her phone.
“Selene?” I called, stepping into the cabin. As far as I could remember, Nikki had never left the ship without her phone riding securely in its holder on her left hip. Why would she break that pattern now?
Selene appeared in the hatchway. “What is it?”
“This,” I said, pointing to the phone. “Did she have it when she left this morning for the StarrComm center?”
“Let me see.”
She stepped over to the bed and knelt down beside it. Leaning over the phone, she sniffed, nostrils and eyelashes working as she sampled its scent. “Is there a Zulian restaurant near the center?”
I pulled up the memory of my last visit there. Across the street from the center was a short row of restaurants . . . “Yes,” I said. “There’s a Zulian, a Bulgrenist, and a Yavanni.”
“Yes, I can smell all three,” Selene confirmed. “The Zulian spices are more pungent, and adhere better to a phone’s casing.”
“So she made it to the center and back again,” I said slowly, trying to think it through. “And then left again, but didn’t take her phone. Why would she do that?”
“Are you sure she had her phone all the other times she left the ship?” Selene asked.
I thought back, pulling up mental image after mental image. Nikki on Balmoral . . . on Vesperin . . . on Lucias Four . . . on Niskea . . . “Yes,” I said. “Every single time.” I waved at the phone. “Until now.”
There was a short pause. “You and I have traveled places without our phones, too, on occasion,” Selene reminded me. “Usually when we were concerned that someone might track us.”
“Right, but that’s us,” I said. “Nikki surely has the best track-and-hack-proofing in the Spiral.”
“Unless she’s concerned she could be facing something new.”
“From where?” I countered. “If no one on Vesperin or in the Niskea Badlands has the kind of fancy gear that can punch through her guardware, there sure as hell isn’t anyone on Meima who can.”
Abruptly, Selene stiffened. “Yes, there is,” she said. “Jordan McKell.”
I stared at her. “Are you saying that the Icarus Group . . . ?”
“You said Nikki has the best available guardware for her phone,” Selene said. “But surely the admiral has high-level resources of his own.”
“I would if I were sitting on an Icarus-size keg of dynamite,” I agreed. “But how would Nikki know—oh.”
“Yes,” Selene said “Ixil’s outriders. Nikki saw them.”
“Well, she saw Kalixiri outriders,” I said. “But there’s no reason for her to think they belonged to Ixil, or to any Kalix in particular.”
“Unless she knows more about Icarus than she’s let on.”
“Or was recently told more about Icarus than she’s let on,” I said.
And with that, the rest of the pieces I’d spent the past few weeks poking at suddenly fell together. “Oh, hell. Come on.” I grabbed Selene’s arm and hurried us down the corridor toward the entryway. “If he hasn’t got her now, he will soon.”
“Who?” Selene asked, catching up with me.
“Who else?” I retorted. “Trent.”
* * *
McKell answered on the second vibe. “Trouble?” he asked without preamble.
“Triple helping,” I said. “Nikki left the ship without her phone, and I think Trent’s got her.”
“I thought we’d convinced him that his plan was a nonstarter.”
“We were convinced,” I said, keying the entryway and ushering Selene onto the zigzag. “Him, apparently not so much. What kind of tracking resources do you have available?”
“I’m not sure you’re allowed to know about—”
“Stop it!” I snapped. “This is no time to play protocol. Nikki’s in danger, which means Selene and I are in danger. What kind of tracking can you do?”
There was the soft hiss of a sigh. “There are a couple of things we can do with phones,” McKell said reluctantly. “But if she left hers behind they’re worthless.”
“How about tracking runaround rentals? Can you do that?”
“Yes, but not in real time. There would be a ten- or fifteen-minute delay to get that data.”
“Good enough,” I said. “As long as you can do it—and as long as Nikki knows you can do it—that’s all I need.”
“Wait a minute,” he objected. “How would Nikki know that?”
“From Trent,” I said as we reached the bottom of the ramp. “We’re heading out now. Call you later.”
I keyed off. “Where are we going?” Selene asked.
“We’ll start with the runaround stand,” I said, settling into a brisk walk. No point switching to a sprint until we had some idea how long a race we were looking at. “Can you smell her?”
“Yes, she came this way,” Selene said. “No more than half an hour ago, either. I’m sorry, I should have said something on our way in. I assumed I was getting her scent from when she returned to the Ruth.”
“Not your fault,” I said. “I’d have assumed the same thing. The crucial question is whether she grabbed a runaround this time. I’m guessing she didn’t, but we won’t know until we get there.” A sudden thought struck me, and I pulled out my phone and punched again for McKell. “Question,” I said when he answered. “Do you still have that bounty hunter persona you used on Brandywine?”
“Yes, but it would take way too long to get into the makeup and prosthetics.”
“Don’t need you to,” I said. “What I need is for you to put out a bounty notice on Nikki offering five million commarks.”
For about five of our hurried steps he didn’t reply. I listened to the silence, lining up my reasoning, arguments, and pleas for when he turned me down.
I frowned, listening closer. Was that traffic I was hearing in the background? Or was I just combining his silence with the sounds coming into my other ear? “McKell?” I prompted. “I really need—”
“Done,” he said. “Five million commarks for delivery alive, reply and confirm to the attached mail drop. I assume you wanted me to use the same sketch you brought from Niskea?”
“Yes,” I said, mentally tossing my prepared speech out the airlock. Even now, McKell could sometimes surprise me. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to pay up.”
“The admiral will be glad of that,” McKell said dryly. “Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of,” I said. “We strained Trent’s budget when we confiscated his blood money. Hopefully, the news that Nikki’s life is worth five million to him will buy us some time. Thanks.”
I keyed off as we trotted up to the runaround stand. “Okay, Selene. Work your magic.”
There were half a dozen vehicles parked in the stand. Selene walked past them, sniffing at each but not bothering to stop, until she reached the end of the group. She took four steps past it, paused—
“She went by,” she said, picking up speed. “This way.”
“Good,” I said, smiling tightly. So, warned that someone might be able to track runaround rentals, she’d opted to walk. “Hopefully, we’ll still be in time to save her.”
“I don’t understand,” Selene said as we picked up our pace. “Nikki knew someone was trying to kill her. Why would she let Trent lure her out of the Ruth?”
“By offering her something she needed,” I said. “Or maybe something he just convinced her she needed. Remember the Tixi 455 you smelled in her cabin earlier? That was her fiddling with her enhanced targeting prosthetics.”
“You think so?” Selene asked doubtfully. She paused, crouched down to sniff at the pavement, then straightened up and continued walking. “Those enhancements require an optical component, and facial inserts are usually quite visible.”
“The key word being usually,” I said. “Nikki was smarter than the average assassin, or maybe just had more money or influence. For her inserts she went to the best in the business: the people who’ve been doing facial grafts for nearly thirty years.”
Selene spun around, and even in the dim light I could see the shock in her pupils. “Are you saying . . . the Patth?”
“Who else?” I said, hearing an edge of bitterness in my voice. I really, really should have seen it sooner. “How else could Trent know about Icarus and its capabilities? How else did he know enough about Nikki’s inserts to be able to lure her out with a promise that a tech was available in Barcarolle to work on them? For that matter, how did Nask’s associate Muninn even know what she looked like when she’s been so careful to keep her face hidden?”
I looked past Selene at the darkening city beyond the spaceport. “Trent’s not a bounty hunter, Selene. He’s a Patth Expediter.”
* * *
I’d been worried that we might have to traipse halfway across Barcarolle on our unexpected errand of mercy. Fortunately, Nikki’s trail looked to be ending much sooner, at a medical building only a couple of kilometers from the spaceport.
A big medical building, naturally, with three floors and covering half a block’s worth of real estate. But that was okay, because there was only one likely destination in there for her.
“Here,” I said, pointing to the listing on Selene’s info pad as we walked toward the building’s main entrance. “This optometrist suite on the second floor at the south end of the building. Trent will have told her he had a place with full optical and eye-treatment equipment. She’d have been suspicious of anywhere else he tried to send her.”
