Read Online Young Rissa by F.M. Busby - Free Book Online Page B

last evening, however, she used the suite’s communicator keyboard to dispatch a coded note to Erika Hulzein via a Buenos Aires message drop. Decoded, it would read, “On my way tonight. Greatest thanks for all you have done, and love to poor Ivan.”  
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    It may have been the note that was almost her undoing. Leaving from the lower-level terminal, she timed her movements so as to be alone in the tube-capsule that would take her to the ship. But at the last moment a bulky woman ran to reopen the closing door and crowded in to join her. The woman wore the red and blue plastic hood-mask of the North American Committee Police; behind it showed only shadowed lips and eyes. Rissa looked at her and said nothing, thinking, it could be coincidence — but it smells wrong!  
    â€œGoing off Earth?” The voice was deep, and unexpectedly soft.  
    All right — the policebitch would have seen the records; there was no point in lying. “Yes, to Terranova. And you?”  
    A laugh, not soft like the voice, but harsh. “No such luck. Just a little business at the port. Where do you come from?”  
    She’d know that, too. Lysse Harnain could be — no doubt had been  
    â€” traced back to South America. Yet it had not been feasible to change  
    identities at the brief stops. “Most recently, Argentina.”  
    â€œWhere in that country?”  
    The Committee’s hound knew, all right — but make her say it. “A small town, near Buenos Aires. You wouldn’t have heard of it.”  
    â€œBut I’ve heard of it many times — including just this evening. It’s rather notorious.”  
    â€œThen why do you ask?”  
    The heavy shoulders shrugged. “One way to get to the real questions.” Rissa did not answer. The woman said, “We know you come from Hulzeins’.”  
    A moment for thought. “I did visit a person of that name. What does that — or this place, for that matter — have to do with your jurisdiction?”  
    â€œAt Hulzeins’, is there a girl named Rissa Kerguelen?”  
    By God, they never quit looking! “There are many girls.”  
    â€œAbout seventeen — slim — dark hair. Did you see her?”  
    â€œI don’t believe I met her. Why?”  
    â€œWanted on a Committee warrant. The charge is treason. Hulzein should know better than to harbor such persons.”  
    Rissa manufactured a laugh. “I doubt that Madame Hulzein’s much concerned with your Committee’s machinations. But, yes — now I remember — this girl you mention — she must be the one who killed herself when she saw her brother again. A childish thing to do, but she was barely of legal age. Erika was quite disappointed in her.”  
    â€œYou’re sure?” The woman’s grip hurt Rissa’s shoulder; she was tempted to break a finger of the offending hand, but waited.  
    â€œYou’re hurting me! No, of course I’m not sure. I heard a lot of stories — who’s to say which were true? I didn’t follow the gossip closely, anyway. I had my own concerns.”  
    The hand gripped harder. “I’m sure you did — Rissa.”  
    It was time to act. Past time — the port was near. Maybe the sniffing bitch was only guessing, but the chance wasn’t worth it. She felt the jolt of peril — now, as in the aircar, time slowed . She turned to face the plastic mask, took a breath, and drove the heel of her hand as hard as she could, up to the hidden nose. With luck she could have driven bone splinters into the brain, but the plastic was too rigid; her blow slipped off its bulge. The woman half-screamed — in fear, or was it anger? — and thrust out a meaty hand to squeeze Rissa’s throat. Behind the mask her eyes shone, almost like burning coals. Rissa pointed stiff fingers at