The Icarus Hunt

CHAPTER 19

I CAME TO slowly, drifting back toward consciousness in gradual and torturedstages. There was a vague sensation of discomfort, which first coalesced intoan overall chill and stiffness before zeroing in on a throbbing somewhere in theback of my head. There was something wrong with my arms, though I couldn'tfigure out exactly what. There was light somewhere, too, though as vague andundefined as the discomfort had originally been, and the distant thoughtoccurred to me that if I turned my head maybe I could figure out where it wascoming from. It took some time and effort to remember how that could be done, but finally I had it doped out. Feeling rather pleased with my accomplishment, I

turned my head a little to the side.

And instantly came fully awake as a flare of pain burned through the back ofmyskull. Someone, apparently, was doing his best to rip my head off my spinewith his bare hands. Clenching my teeth, I waited until the pain had mostlysubsided; then, keeping my head as motionless as possible, I eased open my eyes.

I was sitting in a plain wooden armchair, unpadded, my head lolled forwardwith my chin resting on my chest. What was wrong with my arms was quickly apparent: both wrists were handcuffed to the chair arms on which they were resting.

Experimentally, I shifted my right foot a bit and found that they hadn'tbothered to lock my feet in place as they had my arms. In the background Icould hear the faint sounds of distant music; closer at hand, somewhere just infront of me, I could also hear the sounds of quiet alien conversation. Slowly, mindful of the trip-hammer waiting to resume work on the back of my skull, I carefullyraised my head to look.

And immediately wished I hadn't. I was in a medium-sized room, plain andlargelyunfurnished, with a single light in the ceiling and a single closed door maybefour meters directly ahead of me. Seated behind a low wooden table midwaybetween the door and me, my partially disassembled phone on the tabletop infront of them, were two more members of the lumpy Iykami Clan.

At the moment, though, they weren't paying any attention to the phone, nor toany of the rest of my pocket equipment that had been unceremoniously dumpedout onto the table. My efforts at stealthy wakefulness to the contrary, they werelooking straight at me.

And not, as near as I could tell from those alien faces, with particularlyfriendly expressions. They were more the sort of expressions worn by peoplewho have orders to keep a prisoner alive and mostly well, but who are at the sametime secretly longing for said prisoner to make trouble and thus provide themwith an excuse to beat the living daylights out of him.

Cooperative type that I was, it seemed a shame to disappoint them. I came upon my feet, hunched forward for balance as I gripped the arms to hold the chairmore or less in place against my back and rear. Their secret hopesnotwithstanding, a sudden and clearly suicidal attack on my part was probablythe last thing they were actually expecting; and the shock had just enoughtime to register on their faces as I took two quick steps forward and swung 180degrees around, taking care not to let my chair get hung up on the edge oftheir table. With all the strength I could muster, I heaved myself and the chair ashard as I could squarely on top of them.

They saw it coming, of course. But seated with their legs under the table, there wasn't a single thing they could do about it. We all went down together in aconfused and thunderous crash of splintering wood and alien curses. Stillhandcuffed to the chair, my movements were severely limited, but even so I wasin a far better fighting position than my opponents. Flailing back and forth, hammering them with the chair and keeping them pinned beneath me, I lashed outwith my feet, throwing kick after kick to head and torso and anything else Icould reach. After what seemed like forever through the haze of pain from myhead, they stopped moving. I gave them each another couple of kicks, just incase they were faking, then collapsed in a panting heap amid the carnage.

I didn't stay collapsed long, though. It had been a serious gamble on my part, taking them on just after waking up, but I hadn't had much choice in thematter.

Two-to-one odds were as good as I was likely to get; and if I'd waited forthem to call whoever was in charge with the news that the sacrificial Voodoo dollwas awake and ready to have pins stuck in him, I'd never have left the room alive.

An unhappy ending that could still very easily happen. The brief fight hadbeen anything but quiet, and the music I could hear in the distance meant thatthere was at least someone else in the immediate vicinity. My chair had sufferedsome damage in the fight, but enough of it had survived to keep me pinioned.

Rollingaround awkwardly, keeping an ear cocked for the inevitable reaction, I startedchecking my unconscious jailers for the keys to my handcuffs.

They were wearing the same sort of neo-Greek tunics as the two who'd jumped meon Xathru, and it didn't take long to find out that the limited pocket spacethat came with the outfits included no handcuff keys. One had a belt pouch, similarly bereft of keys. Neither was carrying a weapon.

But a couple of meters away on the floor where it had fallen at the table'scollapse was my phone.

My imprisoning chair had gotten itself caught in a slight hollow formed by thebodies of the two Iykams, but a little rocking broke me free. I rolled up ontomy knees, got to my feet, and picked my way through the debris to the phone.

At this range I could see the Iykams hadn't gotten any further in theirdisassemblyof the device than merely pulling the back off, though why they'd even donethat I didn't know. Perhaps they were hoping to tease a latent phone number or twoout of the memory that they could use.

If so, they were out of luck. That was the phone I'd taken from JamesFulbrighton Dorscind's World, and there were no incriminating numbers connected with meanywhere in there, latent or otherwise.

Still, I was glad they'd kept the phone around long enough to try, since ithad now put communication with the outside world in my hands. Easing onto my sideon the floor within reach of the phone, I rolled the device onto its back. I wasstill in big trouble, but a quick call to Ixil would at least alert the othersthat the Patth were here and on the hunt. With one final glance at the door, Ikeyed it on and reached an outstretched finger toward the keypad. And paused.

There was something too easy about this. Something far too easy. Where werethe alert reinforcements rushing in to save the day? Why were these two Iykamsfiddling with my phone instead of someone in a properly equipped workroom? Forthat matter, why only two guards in the first place?

I keyed off the phone and turned it over again, angling it so that I could geta really good look at the exposed circuitry. And this time, knowing what to lookfor, it wasn't hard to spot.

My clever little playmates had wired a repeater chip into the transmitterline, on the upstream side of the encryption sticker. I couldn't read the fine printon the chip, but it almost didn't matter. With the simpler Mark VI chip theywould be able to eavesdrop on any conversation I might have. With the more advanced Mark IX version and a properly equipped phone elsewhere in the citythey'd not only be able to listen in but could also triangulate through thelocal phone system to get the location of the other end of the conversation.

I'd been wrong about the Voodoo pins; they intended to get hold of the Icarus theeasy way.

I was willing to help out guards who wanted me to make trouble, but mycooperation with the enemy only went so far. Rolling back up to my knees, Ileft the phone where it was and headed toward where my plasmic lay next to my IDfolder.

I was just leaning down to pick it up when the door slammed open.

I dropped the rest of the way to the floor, my outstretched hand snatching upthe weapon as I hit the ground hard enough to reignite the blazing pain in myhead. Ignoring the red haze that had suddenly dropped in front of my eyes, Iswiveled both my body and the plasmic to face the door.

It was, I had to admit, an impressive sight. Four Iykams stood in a semicirclejust inside the doorway, each holding one of those nasty coronal-dischargeweapons, their alert motionlessness giving them the appearance of transplantedgargoyles. Behind them, I could see a couple more of the ugly beasts outsidethe door, undoubtedly waiting eagerly for their chance at me.

And standing right in the middle of the doorway between the two groups was agray-robed Patth.

"Don't bother with the weapon, Mr. McKell," he said. His voice was typicalPatth, managing to mix sincere, contemptuous, and smarmy into a sound that wasas distinctive in its own way as Chort's Craean whistling. "You don'tseriouslybelieve we would leave you a functional weapon, do you?"

"After that rather heavy-handed trick you tried with my phone, not really," Iagreed. It was hard to aim properly with my gun hand cuffed to a chair arm, but insofar as I was able I pointed the plasmic squarely at the center of historso.

"At least, not on purpose. You ever hear of a three-pop?"

There was a slight but noticeable rustling among the gargoyles. "I don't thinkso," the Patth said, adding a bit more amusement into the smarmy part of hisvocal mix. "But I'm sure you're dying to tell me."

"An appropriate choice of words," I said approvingly. "A three-pop is ahigh-power capacitor wired internally into a plasmic's fire circuit, keptcharged by the main power pack but otherwise independent of it. It holdsenoughjuice for two to four shots." I squinted consideringly. "That means you and upto three of your toadies will die if any of you comes any closer. If you'dlike to point out your least favorites among them, I'll see what I can do to obligeyou."

The four front Iykams had stopped looking like friendly little gargoyles. Allfour corona guns were up and aimed, held in taut-looking grips at the fullextension of taut-looking arms. But for once I had the advantage, and they allknew it. Lying there four meters away from them, I was right on the edge oftheir kill zones, while they were well inside mine. Add to that the point thatthey couldn't afford to kill me—and the equally important point that none ofthem was especially eager to get killed, either—and we had the makings here ofa good old-fashioned standoff.

And for a minute it looked as if I might actually get away with it. Very little of the Patth's face was visible in the shadow of that hood, but what I could see seemed to be in the throes of serious indecision as he weighed the merits ofrisking his personal skin against the reality that the Icarus still had a longway to go before we were home free. This was no professional bounty hunter, oreven a standard flunky used to obeying orders without the luxury of being ableto factor personal preference into the equation. Odds were this was areasonablysenior Patth citizen, pressed by necessity and desperation into this hunt forus.

But even as he hesitated a new voice from the outer room joined thediscussion.

Another Patth voice, just as smarmy as the first, but carrying with it theunmistakable weight of authority. "Nonsense," he said. "He's bluffing. Enig, tell your fools to go get the weapon. We don't have time for this."

The Patth in the doorway grunted something and two of the Iykams steppedreluctantly forward, their corona guns rigidly pointed at me. I let them getwithin two steps, just in case someone decided to have second thoughts, thenlet my plasmic settle harmlessly to the floor. "You're right," I acknowledged.

"I'm bluffing."

"Bring him in here," the second voice ordered. There was no gloating in thetone that I could detect, nor any relief either. He'd made a decision, had issuedan order and had it obeyed, and was not surprised by either the obedience or thefact that his decision had turned out to be right. Clearly, we had suddenlyjumped a whole bunch of rungs upward on the Patth social ladder.

The Iykams hauled me to my feet and half pulled, half dragged me into theother room. This one was much nicer, nearly three times the size of my original celland furnished better, with a couple of chairs and lamps scattered around. Nearthe wall to my left was a desk with a handful of monitors arranged along itsfront edge, and the other Patth seated behind it. The room was also swarmingwith Iykams, but you couldn't have everything.

"Not bad," I said, looking around as they led me to another plain woodenarmchair that had been placed in front of the desk. Again, there seemed to beonly one door leading out of the place, directly across the room from the doorto my cell. Framed in the ceiling overhead was what at first glance lookedlike a skylight, but which on second glance proved to be only a standard lightfixture designed to look that way. There were a couple of ventilation vents atceiling and floor level, with decorative crosshatched gratings that lookedflimsy enough to tear right off the wall. But through the holes in those samegratings I could see that the ductwork beyond was far too narrow for evensomeone as thin as Chort to fit through. A quick count of the Iykams came upwith a total of eight. "Not bad at all," I added as my guards unfastened myhandcuffs from the broken chair, shoved me down into the new one, and secured mywrists to the arms again. This time, I took particular note of which of thempocketed the keys. "If you kept your prisoners in a place like this instead ofthat converted stockroom back there you'd probably get better cooperation."

There was no comment from the other side of the desk. I finished my survey ofthe room in a leisurely fashion, then finally turned my full attention to theother Patth.

If anything, my earlier hunch about his status had fallen short of the mark.

Instead of the usual unadorned gray worn in public by most Patth, his robe wasinstead gray with dark burnt-orange slash marks set into the sleeves and edgeof the hood. This was one of the Patth elite diplomatic corps, possibly even thePalmary ambassador himself. "I'm impressed," I said. "May I ask whom I havethe honor of addressing?"

He regarded me another moment before answering. "You may call me Nask, Mr.

McKell. You have been a most troubling person, indeed."

"Thank you," I said, inclining my head slightly, ignoring the fresh swell ofpain the motion induced. "You seem to think the game is over."

"What makes you say that?" he asked calmly. "It is, of course, but what makesyou phrase it that way?"

"Your so-called name," I said. " 'Nask' is one of the Patth words for'victor'."

"Interesting," he said. "We were right about you. You're not just a simplemerchant pilot."

"That's right, I'm not," I told him. "I'm an employee of a very powerful anddangerous man. A figure who, I dare say, could cause immense trouble for eventhe Patth economic empire."

"Let us guess whom you refer to," the other Patth, Enig, put in. He had movedthrough the circle of glowering Iykams to a spot behind Nask, where he nowstood at respectful attention. He didn't sound particularly smarmy at the moment, probably rather miffed that my bluff with the plasmic had made him look sillyin front of his superior.

And now, in the better light in here, I could also see the telltale glitter ofstarship-pilot implants around his eyes. His deference was more proof, if I'dneeded it, that Nask was a very high-ranking Patth indeed. "Would thispowerfuland dangerous man by any chance be Johnston Scotto Ryland?" Enig went on.

"You are well informed," I said, trying to hide the sudden sinking sensationin my stomach. If they knew about my connection with Brother John, and weren'tworried about it, they must know something I didn't. "I imagine you also knowwhat crossing a man like that means."

"We do," Nask said. "But you're sadly mistaken if you think there is anycrossing involved. Once your connection with Mr. Ryland became known, wecontacted his organization. Would you care to hear his response, delivered tothe Patthaaunutth Director General approximately six hours ago?"

The sinking sensation sank a little deeper. "Sure, go ahead."

Nask reached forward and keyed one of the displays. "Quote: 'Jordan McKell notknown to this organization.' Unquote. Succinctly put, wouldn't you say?"

"Very," I agreed with a sigh. The heat had been turned up, and Brother Johnhad responded by throwing me to the wolves. Typical. "So where does that leaveus?"

"It leaves us in position to bargain," Nask said. "And without any externalentanglements."

I frowned. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me correctly," he assured me. "You have the Icarus. I want it. It'sthat simple."

"Really," I said, trying in vain to read that half-shadowed face. Coming froma human, such an implied offer would carry the strong implication that the bargainer was offering to cut his superior completely out of the picture. ButNask was a Patth. Surely that couldn't be what he meant. Could it? "Would youcare to elaborate as to what specific entanglements you hope to avoid?"

He waved a hand. "The usual ones. Legal questions, the Commonwealth UniformCode, human governmental interference. All the various stumbling blocks thatimpede the progress and prosperity of reasonable beings."

"And does that list include other governmental interference?" I asked.

"It includes all governments that impede progress," he said. "Naturally, governments that instead enhance progress would be welcome."

"Ah," I said, nodding. In other words, he was proposing the three of us make adeal, which Nask and Enig would then turn around and sell to the Patthgovernment for, no doubt, a tidy profit. I could presumably make a morepersonalized deal with Nask than I could with the Patth Director General, Naskand Enig would both move a few rungs up the ladder for their efforts, and thePatth as a whole would get the Icarus.

I looked around at the Iykams. And, of course, if Nask's generosity didn'tprovesufficiently tempting, his hatchetbeings could take me apart piece by piecewithout any official Patth governmental involvement, should it ever come tothat. "Let's hear your offer," I said, looking back at Nask.

He shrugged, a gesture the Patth had picked up from us. Somehow, it made himlook less human than the other way around. "Let's hear your request," hecountered. "We're prepared to be quite generous."

"Suppose my price includes more than just cash?" I asked, wishing desperatelyI had some idea how long I'd been unconscious. At some point, I knew, Ixil wouldconclude I'd been taken and would find a way to get the Icarus off Palmarywithout me. If I could stall that long, at least the others would be safe.

"What if it includes the lives and freedom of my crew as well?"

"Their lives can certainly be included in any deal," Nask said. "Theirfreedom... well, that may be a bit more difficult to arrange."

"How much more difficult?"

He shrugged again. "They would need to remain guests of the PatthaaunutthDirector General for a time. In quite pleasant surroundings, I assure you.

Eventually, they would certainly be released."

"I'm sure they would be counting the days," I said. "And how long would youanticipate this luxury vacation would last?"

His eyes seemed to probe mine. "Until such time as the alien device you carrycould be made operational or else proved nonfunctional. Your assistance, orlack of it, could certainly affect the length of that study."

"Only if I knew anything about it," I said, wondering how much he knew aboutthe artifact. Or rather, how much he thought he knew about it. "It's completelysealed up."

"The unsealing will be the least of our difficulties," Nask said dryly. "So: the lives and eventual freedom of your traveling companions. What else?"

"Well, there'd have to be money, of course," I said. "Lots of it." I lifted myeyebrows to him. "Unfortunately, money's not much use if you aren't able tospend it. And I'll hardly be able to spend it if I'm locked away, will I?"

He made an unfamiliar gesture with his fingertips. "If you're worried aboutretribution from your companions, we can arrange that you be housedseparately."

"You misunderstand," I said. "I'm saying that I walk. Immediately. You canlock up the others from now till doomsday as far as I'm concerned. But I get mymoneyand walk."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I'm certain the Director General wouldnever agree to that. We can't allow even a hint of this find to leak out to the restof the Spiral."

"What about Cameron himself?" I countered. "He knows about the Icarus, andlast I heard he was still at large."

"Your information is out-of-date," Enig spoke up. "Arno Cameron wasapprehendedon Meima two days ago. He is being held at our compound there."

"Ah," I said. So much for Brother John's support; now, so much for Patthhonesty, too. Big surprise on both counts.

"Still, I can assure you that during the time you're detained you'll haveaccommodations and treatment suitable for Steye'tylian royalty," Nask went on, his voice low and earnest and utterly trustworthy. Even the normal smarminesslevel had been muted for the occasion. "And afterward, you will be a friend tothe Patthaaunutth for the rest of your life."

"Something to strive for, all right," I said with only a trace of sarcasm. Theglow on his face, I noticed, had changed subtly. Had one of the displaysfacinghim altered? "But suppose the device turns out to be useless? How much of afriend will I be then?"

"When the Patthaaunutth promise friendship, that promise is always fulfilled," he said. "Your goodwill and assistance will be counted toward that end, nomatter what the final result."

"I see," I said, the hairs on my neck rising. Suddenly Nask's words and tonehad gone mechanical, his full attention riveted to the displays. Something washappening out there, something even more important than sweet-talking me outof the Icarus. "Suppose I can find a way to guarantee my silence in some otherway—"

"You must choose quickly," Nask interrupted me. "Tell me where the Icarus is, or the decision will be snatched from your hands."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, the sinking sensation back in mystomach. "How could—"

I broke off at the sound of clinking from the door to my right. The sound of alock being keyed. "He is here," Nask said with a forlorn-sounding wheeze I'dnever heard a Patth make before. "The glory and profit now pass to theDirector General."

The door swung open. I turned to look—

And felt my breath catch like fire in my throat. Two figures were stridinginto the room, looking as if they owned the place and were about to raise the rent.

One was another robed Patth, the by-now-familiar starship-pilot implantstwinkling around his eyes.

The other was Revs Nicabar.