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The Seer Page 23


  “So what can you access?”

  “Well,” Jolar said engaging the screen. “I can look around outside the shelter, tell you the current weather conditions in Tano-Sertar, explore the latest fashions on Tellar, tell you the current tidal conditions on Lema . . .”

  “So pretty much a whole uplink.”

  “Yup. And incidentally, everything you could want to know about Danlen . . .”

  Arissa’s eyes widened as he brought up the information. “Gods, look at that. Bank accounts, bank accounts held under access numbers only, passwords, company holdings—”

  “Nice of him to leave it so well organized.”

  “He left it for Cenon,” Arissa said quietly.

  Jolar’s sense turned grim. “There was nothing I could do for her. She was already dead. I didn’t have much time but I did bury her. I said a prayer to Bathena to guide her to her peace with Danlen.”

  “That’s good. I liked her.”

  “She liked you too. Danlen told me so.” Jolar shook his head as he scrolled through the information. “Looks like Danlen had most of the officials on Sertar by the throat. He practically ran the planet. But his estate here was positively humble for what he had, why would a man that wealthy live so modestly for his means?”

  “Cenon said it was her family’s home,” Arissa said. “I was saying how pretty the herbery was and she said it had been her grandmother’s. She grew up in that house.”

  “Well, that explains that. But why bother with our paltry contract?”

  “Maybe he was overextended?”

  Jolar called up Danlen’s financial records.

  “I don’t think that was it.” Jolar gave a low whistle. “This man was insanely wealthy. His statements—”

  He went still.

  “What?”

  He pointed to a line on the screen. “Five hundred thousand credits—Kav de’Reaven.”

  “Dacel’s other agent?” she asked. “The one he sent before us?”

  “Danlen paid to have him killed.”

  “So it was Danlen we were looking for.”

  “If he knew de’Reaven was Dacel’s agent . . . Did he know about us?”

  Arissa shook her head firmly. “Jolar, everything I felt from him and Cenon was friendly. He had no ill intentions toward us at all.”

  “He wanted to come to an agreement,” Jolar said thoughtfully. “He wanted us to stay there longer. He offered me so much I couldn’t possibly turn it down. Why?”

  “Maybe he wanted the crystals contract too?”

  “But why? He didn’t need the money. Even he said the money didn’t matter to him.”

  “He was in crystal refining,” Arissa reminded. “He had a good portion of the market, maybe he wanted to maintain his position.”

  Jolar nodded toward the screen. “But he made ten times more from other revenue streams.”

  “Maybe for the prestige of supplying the Fleet?”

  “It’s not that prestigious. Certainly not worth ten million credits and that necklace you were looking at in Tano. Danlen said what mattered to him was that his crystals were on Fleet ships.”

  Arissa stared. “He knew I was looking at that necklace? That was part of his offer?”

  “Actually I’m the one that brought up the necklace,” Jolar said. “You liked it right?”

  “It was beautiful,” Arissa said. “But it cost a—wait.”

  “What?” he said, his brow creased.

  “Kemma said the necklace had been made out of crystals with a fatal flaw. Danlen wanted his crystals on Fleet ships badly enough to bribe you with a fortune. If it wasn’t the money and it wasn’t prestige . . . What if there was another reason he wanted his crystals on Fleet ships? What if Danlen’s crystals had a flaw that would make them shatter?”

  Jolar frowned. “They run tests when they swap out a crystal, Arissa. If a crystal shattered when the conversion matrix was engaged, they’d just replace it.”

  “But what if it worked for a while? And shattered only when he wanted it to shatter?”

  Jolar’s frown deepened. “You can’t decide when a crystal shatters.”

  “But what if you could?” Arissa persisted. “What if you could send a signal or something? Input some kind of overload?”

  Jolar was already shaking his head. “There are so many safeguards on a Fleet vessel that it would take most of the crew working together to make something like that happen.”

  “But a sonic pulse at the right frequency can shatter a crystal.”

  “Well, yes,” Jolar agreed. “But you would have to know what frequency that particular crystal needed in order to shatter it. The only way you could be sure to shatter more than one is if—” His face blanched. “Gods, if you had a way to alter them to fail . . .”

  “Fail when you wanted them to fail.”

  “A shattered crystal would cripple the ship without firing a shot. You could cripple the whole Fleet that way. You could bring the Realm to its knees in hours.” He shook his head again. “But the new contract I was supposed to be filling wouldn’t start for another three months. Even if Danlen intended to do that it would take years before enough ships switched out enough crystals to make a difference.”

  “Who had the previous contract?” She started scrolling through the files . . . something she’d seen . . .

  “A company called—”

  “CenCorp,” she finished, pointing at the screen. “Look.”

  “Gods,” Jolar murmured looking at the company information. “He went to a lot of trouble to hide his ownership of that company. That’s why he didn’t care about the new contract, he has the current one. If those crystals are flawed, he’s been providing the Fleet with flawed crystals for years.” Jolar passed his hand over his eyes. “CenCorp. Cenon—his wife.”

  “But suddenly he cared very much about the new contract and then someone killed him.”

  His face was grim. “Do you think it’s possible that Danlen wasn’t the real target? Do you think someone knows who we are?”

  “I didn’t get anything like that from the men who attacked Danlen’s estate,” she said slowly. “They weren’t searching for you or us. They were there for Danlen and Cenon but they were also intent on killing everyone there.”

  “They were Utavians. Broc Attar was murdered a few days ago. It could have been revenge.” Jolar let his breath out. “Still that’s it then.”

  “What do you mean?” She frowned. “Jolar, someone killed everyone at that estate. We need to find out who.”

  “No,” Jolar said firmly. “Finding out who killed Danlen wasn’t our assignment. We were sent to find out who was gathering power on Sertar and get the evidence for the Tellaran Council. We know it was Danlen and I have the datadisk to prove it but I can’t be sure this uplink is secure and I’m not about to broadcast our presence here. If there is something wrong with the Fleet ships we need to get back to Tano so I can transmit this to the Council. FleetSec will have to take the investigation from here.”

  She wet her lips. “So,” she said. “We’re done?”

  “We’re done here. Our task now is to turn this evidence over. They’ll probably want us back on Tellar for debriefing.”

  “And then?”

  “You’ll get your ID. We’ll go to Tellar and then Zartan—if I can wait that long to marry you.” His smile was hot. “Then Nima for a long honeymoon.”

  She hesitated.

  His smile faded. “Right. Jasa.” He sighed. “I really hope she’s still in Tano.”

  Twenty-seven

  An hour later, with the shelter powered down and sealed, they used the groundcar to reach the southern city of Patim-Sertar. Jolar didn’t contact Bruscan until after they had secured a shuttle rental to take them back to Tano. He paid cash for the rental and added an extra ten thousand credits consideration—a staggering sum that widened even the jaded attendant’s eyes – to make sure their names wouldn’t show in the system for at least twelve hours, long after t
hey would arrive in Sertar’s capital.

  Jolar was on edge but their return to Tano was an uneventful one. He didn’t begin to relax until they landed at Bruscan’s estate.

  Their host, having come out to meet them, took in the rented shuttle and raised his eyebrows.

  “You’ll be compensated,” Jolar promised.

  “It was a very expensive shuttle,” Bruscan warned.

  Arissa gave Jolar a meaningful look.

  “Would you accept ‘expensive’, rather than ‘very expensive’?” Jolar asked. “The Tellaran Council doesn’t like ‘very expensive’.”

  After a moment Bruscan gave a short nod. “How was the visit to Danlen’s?”

  Jolar took Arissa’s hand and Bruscan’s quick look showed he took that in too.

  “I could use some caf,” Jolar said. “I’m sure Arissa would like some tea. Maybe in your office?”

  “Of course.” Bruscan glanced over Arissa’s too large dress. “Nela will get your luggage from the shuttle.”

  “We came without it,” Jolar said.

  Bruscan blinked, his only outward sign of surprise. Once they were settled inside with the door to his office shut Bruscan settled back in his chair to regard them with interest.

  “Carlea Renn has invited you and Arissa to a supper party tonight, Jolar,” Bruscan said. “It seems you’ve very much tickled her . . . fancy.”

  “Nothing I discovered about Carlea implicates her in what we’re investigating,” Jolar said coolly. “I don’t see any reason to see her again.”

  “Can I take that to mean that your investigation is concluded?” asked Bruscan.

  Jolar gave a nod. “Danlen Mirat.”

  “Huh,” Bruscan murmured, drumming his fingers. “I thought him the least likely of your suspects.”

  “He was good at hiding things.”

  “As one has to be—to succeed on Sertar.” Bruscan tilted his head. “The rented shuttle and Arissa’s present less-than-flattering ensemble speak to a hasty retreat. Can I assume that Master Mirat is onto your discovery?”

  “Danlen’s dead.”

  Bruscan frowned. “You killed him?”

  “No,” Arissa cried. “Of course not!”

  Bruscan glanced between them. “Who then?”

  “We don’t know who,” Jolar said. “They killed everyone there except us.”

  “Fortunate, indeed,” he said, hiding his distress behind a sardonic smile. Bruscan’s head suddenly came up. “Mirat was married—”

  “Cenon—she’s dead too,” Jolar said quietly.

  Bruscan seemed to deflate a little. “A shame. She was a kind woman.” He sighed. “Well, now what?”

  “I have to go to the Zartani embassy.” Jolar glanced at Arissa. “Then I have a personal matter to attend to. I expect Arissa and I will leave for Tellar at the earliest opportunity. As soon as tomorrow.” Jolar shifted on the sofa. “Bruscan, I need to ask you to stay with Arissa until I return. I don’t want her to leave your house and I want you to keep security tight. No guests at all. Just until we’re off-world.”

  Bruscan frowned. “You think someone knows who you are?”

  “The evidence I needed is safe,” Jolar said firmly. “I don’t have any reason to think our cover has been blown, and those implicated are dead.” He looked at Arissa again. “But—”

  “Of course.” Bruscan gave a faint smile. “I’ll keep her safe for you.”

  Jolar entered the Zartani embassy at mid-afternoon. Done in the traditional Zartani style of gleaming dalsawood and large windows it was a mute testament to his homeworld’s wealth and power.

  The embassy compound was made up of several buildings including offices, quarters for staff and the ambassador’s mansion. Technically he now stood on Zartani ground and the laws of his homeworld applied here.

  He had intended to hand the disk over to the ambassador to transmit to the Council but found himself standing before Rekan d’Barat, the Junior Councilor—now Acting Councilor of Zartan—who rose from his place behind the ambassador’s desk to greet him.

  “Lord d’Tural,” he said pleasantly, offering his hand. Not as tall as Jolar, his hair a few shades darker, Rekan still bore the stamp of a Zartani aristocrat in his bearing. “A pleasure to see you again.”

  Jolar gave a nod. “I prefer ‘Commander’ if you don’t mind.”

  “As you like, Commander.” Rekan waved him to a chair. “Please, sit.” Rekan went back to his chair behind the desk.

  “Where is Ambassador d’Serrat?”

  Rekan looked surprised. “Attending the memorial for Councilor de’Par on Zartan.”

  Jolar’s brow creased. “You aren’t attending Dacel’s memorial?”

  Rekan spread his hands. “I am Acting Councilor of Zartan. Like yourself, Commander, I have duties that I cannot leave at the moment. I agreed months ago to present at the trade commission and I barely arrived in time to attend the final day of meetings. My schedule is overwhelmed with responsibilities. I will be returning to Zartan to pay my respects at Dacel’s grave and to call on his family at the earliest opportunity.”

  Dacel’s family. Gods, what they must be going through now . . .

  Jolar swallowed. “Yes, I will do so as well as soon as I return home.”

  “I wish that I had been apprised of your mission here earlier,” Rekan said. “And when the Councilor was lost to us—”

  “Do you know what happened?” Jolar asked tightly. “Do you know—do you know why?”

  Rekan shook his head. “I’m afraid we have many more questions than answers. The investigation into his death still in the early stages.”

  “TelSec must have some idea what happened,” Jolar said sharply. “Dacel was Zartani Councilor. You’d think someone would have answers by now.”

  Rekan folded his hands. “Dacel’s death is a great loss to Zartan, Commander. A great loss to the Realm. I’m sure TelSec will submit their findings soon. Believe me when I say that getting those findings, those answers, is one of my top priorities.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jolar said. “He was my friend.”

  Rekan’s face was grim. “He was mine too.”

  “I have the evidence he asked me to gather, along with my findings.” Jolar pulled the datadisk from his pocket. “What I discovered was very disturbing.”

  Rekan gave a nod. “We should transmit the information immediately. With your permission I’d like to ask two of the ZarSec officers assigned to the embassy to step in and bear witness.”

  “Of course.”

  The uniformed ZarSecs came at Rekan’s summons and both offered Jolar respectful nods. Jolar handed over the datadisk and the men watched as Rekan transferred the information for transmittal to the Tellaran Council. Rekan then took the datadisk and placed it in a safe in the Ambassador’s office.

  Rekan nodded to the men, dismissing them.

  “Well,” Rekan said heavily. “It’s in the Council’s hands now but I’m sure they will have questions for you. Is there anything else I can assist you with right now, Commander? My schedule is very full and I have a great deal to attend to.”

  Jolar’s fingers rested on dalsawood desk and made a sudden decision. “There’s a young woman assigned to this mission with me—Arissa Legan. I think it best if she and I relocated here to Zartani soil until we return to Tellar. Can you arrange a shuttle and ZarSec officers for her protection?”

  “Certainly,” Rekan said. “Allow me to have a word with my secretary about living quarters. I can have him book your transport to Tellar as well.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Jolar said.

  Something was nagging at him and the sooner he got Arissa under the protection of the Zartani, the better he’d feel.

  He contacted Arissa to tell her of the change of plans and spoke to Bruscan as well. The ZarSec and a shuttle bearing the Zartani emblem were already on their way to collect her. Arissa would be safely on Zartani soil within the hour.

  The uneasy feeling kept gnawing a
t him but it was possible that the coming meeting had him so on edge he was overreacting.

  Jasa had never been an easy woman to deal with.

  Still it was a relief to find her still in the city. She readily agreed to a meeting and welcomed him warmly when he arrived at her rented house. It was a well appointed home, elegant as Jasa herself.

  Not for Jasa the trailblazing eccentricity of a plexisteel floor over languorously swimming fish nor the tasteful but opulent soaring spaces of Bruscan’s mansion. He could not even imagine her willingly occupying the rough comfort of Danlen’s country home.

  Highlighted by pure white trim, watered citrine shimmersilk covered the walls of the sitting room she led him to. Tall windows—high enough for a man to stand in—encircled the room and provided a dazzling view of the sunset and the gathering cool shadows of the garden below.

  Chairs, sofas and tables were scattered about. It was a well-thought-out design, pleasing to the eye but not a comfortable room nor a space that invited one to linger.

  Jasa’s gown today was cream-colored and hugged her curves enticingly, her light golden hair worn up with tiny pearls interwoven into it. Looking at her now, Jolar thought that the sitting room’s amber shimmersilk furniture and floors of blond wood seemed deliberately intended to frame the perfection that was Jasa.

  He was willing to bet it wasn’t an accident either.

  “Can I get you anything? I purchased some of that Niman brandy you are so fond of.” A sultry smile touched her full, pink mouth as she glanced at him sidelong. “In hopes you might find time to visit me after all.”

  “No, thank you,” Jolar said. “I’m glad to find you still in Tano. I thought you might have left for Zartan, now that the trade conference is over.”

  Jasa sat on one of the amber colored chairs and extended her hand, inviting him to a chair opposite.

  Jolar blinked. He recognized this chair. A copy of one she’d had made upon their betrothal to accommodate his larger frame more comfortably when he visited her home. He wondered if she’d ordered the rental’s sitting room redecorated to suit it.