Read Online Mainline by Deborah Christian - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Deborah Christian
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that is to be said in the matter!"
Yavobo was unaccustomed to having his word questioned, and angered at having his honor debt dismissed out of hand by the one he intended to aid. His determination was finally coming clear to Councilor Lanzig.
"Why me?" she demanded again.
Again, Yavobo began his explanation. "I entered a contract with your uncle to-—"
"—to keep him safe, yes. You are under no obligation because of a vehicular failure."
"I say again, I do not believe it was a natural failure. And I am in debt, Councilor. It is to you I must discharge that debt."
Alia sat in a net chair, her webbed feet slightly splayed on the nubbleflooring before her. There was a sheen of blue-green luminescence to her skin on arms and thighs, and on the closed gill slits visible on her neck. Soft curves spoke of subcutaneous fat, helping to insulate body heat in the ocean depths.
"You realize I do much of my work in the water?" she finally asked. "At this depth a human would need protection, at least a special dive suit."
Yavobo bowed slightly at the concession. "I would suffer some discomfort in the ears, otherwise I believe I have no problem. I am more hardy than an unprotected human."
"Well, I can't have you going deaf, can I?" Lanzig groused. "Get a suit, keep your pressure and air right, and you can stay. Get my daily schedule from my secretary console and we'll see how you can fit into my routine."
Alia's lips pursed as if she tasted something sour. "I want none of this carrying on like with my uncle, you hear? You're not going to piss off every pilot who works for me or get my people thrown in the autodoc with your tactics. You can be a chauffeur or doorguard for all I care. I want you out of my way and in the background. Is that clear?"
"If there is a danger—"
"I'm not in any danger. Stay unobtrusive. Can you do that?"
She spoke with the authority of an Aztrakhani matriarch. Yavobo bowed again, respectfully, this time.
"We understand each other, then. Now go get that suit."
Alia felt she was in no danger, and to Yavobo's practiced eye, it seemed she might be right. Her enemies were forthright and vocal, and the Aztrakhani knew those were seldom the ones you had to watch out for. Yavobo followed her movements in a separate skiff and Lanzig had no protest, nor did she care how he executed his self-appointed duties.
It was altogether the strangest escort duty the warrior had ever performed. All the while, Albek's death continued to niggle at him, and when he could find time, he did what he could to investigate the sinister mishap with Advisor Murs' skiff.
Yavobo soon found his investigation severely limited by circumstance. There was no way to recover the wrecked hydroskiff, now a piece of compact, crumpled debris in an unmarked location deep in the Alauna Abyss. Even if the wreckage was found, what was the point? It would reveal pressure-tortured metal, almost impossible to pinpoint the one spot that must have suddenly given way....
One spot. Suddenly.
Maybe he could attack this from another direction. If he had wanted to take out the skiff, how would he have done it? The answer to that was easy. A torpedo, possibly tracking on a homing button attached to the hull.
Yet the warrior knew there had been no explosion when the skiff's hull breached. There was only the sudden pressure drop. A missile would have been felt; a laser or ion pulse would at least have been noticed by the crew, and required a firing platform of some sort, although there had been no other vehicles nearby. If the failure were caused by a physical flaw, dock inspection by the pilot or Yavobo should have revealed it. Nothing he invented fit the pattern of destruction that had downed the Advisor's skiff.
Maybe something he didn't know about was responsible. Something the effects and operation of which he couldn't imagine. Fortunately, he had a footprint, a way to trace this mystery thing. He knew its characteristics.
Hard to detect. Capable
Yavobo was unaccustomed to having his word questioned, and angered at having his honor debt dismissed out of hand by the one he intended to aid. His determination was finally coming clear to Councilor Lanzig.
"Why me?" she demanded again.
Again, Yavobo began his explanation. "I entered a contract with your uncle to-—"
"—to keep him safe, yes. You are under no obligation because of a vehicular failure."
"I say again, I do not believe it was a natural failure. And I am in debt, Councilor. It is to you I must discharge that debt."
Alia sat in a net chair, her webbed feet slightly splayed on the nubbleflooring before her. There was a sheen of blue-green luminescence to her skin on arms and thighs, and on the closed gill slits visible on her neck. Soft curves spoke of subcutaneous fat, helping to insulate body heat in the ocean depths.
"You realize I do much of my work in the water?" she finally asked. "At this depth a human would need protection, at least a special dive suit."
Yavobo bowed slightly at the concession. "I would suffer some discomfort in the ears, otherwise I believe I have no problem. I am more hardy than an unprotected human."
"Well, I can't have you going deaf, can I?" Lanzig groused. "Get a suit, keep your pressure and air right, and you can stay. Get my daily schedule from my secretary console and we'll see how you can fit into my routine."
Alia's lips pursed as if she tasted something sour. "I want none of this carrying on like with my uncle, you hear? You're not going to piss off every pilot who works for me or get my people thrown in the autodoc with your tactics. You can be a chauffeur or doorguard for all I care. I want you out of my way and in the background. Is that clear?"
"If there is a danger—"
"I'm not in any danger. Stay unobtrusive. Can you do that?"
She spoke with the authority of an Aztrakhani matriarch. Yavobo bowed again, respectfully, this time.
"We understand each other, then. Now go get that suit."
Alia felt she was in no danger, and to Yavobo's practiced eye, it seemed she might be right. Her enemies were forthright and vocal, and the Aztrakhani knew those were seldom the ones you had to watch out for. Yavobo followed her movements in a separate skiff and Lanzig had no protest, nor did she care how he executed his self-appointed duties.
It was altogether the strangest escort duty the warrior had ever performed. All the while, Albek's death continued to niggle at him, and when he could find time, he did what he could to investigate the sinister mishap with Advisor Murs' skiff.
Yavobo soon found his investigation severely limited by circumstance. There was no way to recover the wrecked hydroskiff, now a piece of compact, crumpled debris in an unmarked location deep in the Alauna Abyss. Even if the wreckage was found, what was the point? It would reveal pressure-tortured metal, almost impossible to pinpoint the one spot that must have suddenly given way....
One spot. Suddenly.
Maybe he could attack this from another direction. If he had wanted to take out the skiff, how would he have done it? The answer to that was easy. A torpedo, possibly tracking on a homing button attached to the hull.
Yet the warrior knew there had been no explosion when the skiff's hull breached. There was only the sudden pressure drop. A missile would have been felt; a laser or ion pulse would at least have been noticed by the crew, and required a firing platform of some sort, although there had been no other vehicles nearby. If the failure were caused by a physical flaw, dock inspection by the pilot or Yavobo should have revealed it. Nothing he invented fit the pattern of destruction that had downed the Advisor's skiff.
Maybe something he didn't know about was responsible. Something the effects and operation of which he couldn't imagine. Fortunately, he had a footprint, a way to trace this mystery thing. He knew its characteristics.
Hard to detect. Capable
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