Release(87)

Excellent. She was performing perfectly. Ariana did her best to stay calm behind her fan. She didn’t want to have to start shooting before it was absolutely necessary.

“It beeped,” said the man.

“Well, I’m sure I don’t know why that happened,” said Aunt Tildy. “I’m in a hurry. Step aside.”

“I’m sorry,” said the man, “but it’s the rules. Everyone has to go through the detector. It’s for safety, you understand.”

Aunt Tildy gave him a withering look. She gestured to her very tight dress. “And where, pray tell me, would I keep a blaster in this outfit?”

The man eyed her, perhaps lingering a little too long on her breasts. He stuttered. “O-only the rules, m-miss.”

“Don’t ogle me in that manner,” Aunt Tildy said, sounding horrified. “I feel completely harassed. If I were to tell your superior the way in which you treated me—”

The man was totally flustered at that point. He waved them on. “I’m sure you’re fine, miss. My apologies.” He turned to go.

Ariana let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in.

The man turned back. “But your companion—”

“My sister most certainly is not carrying a weapon either,” Aunt Tildy said. She took Ariana by the arm with a haughty huff and gave the man a reproachful look as they got on the lift.

He gaped at them as the doors to the lift closed.

Aunt Tildy began to laugh. “I can’t believe he bought that. This is the most fun I’ve had in—”

Ariana poked her. “There are cameras,” she hissed.

Aunt Tildy composed herself. She touched the screen inside the lift for the proper floor, and the lift began to descend.

* * *

Armed with evidence that the Duke of Risciter had been on Hallon during every single murder fitting the description in the past fifteen years, the similarity between the murders on Hallon and the murders on Scranth, Keirth’s supposed motive, and the story of Miss Gilit, Tramet felt confident as his speeder raced across town. The nets had just confirmed that the prince had arrived on Risciter and that he was settling into his estate. The execution of Keirth Transman was set to take place tomorrow at dawn.

Leaving nothing to chance, Tramet was going to him directly. It had been quite some time since he’d spoken with the prince, but they were close in age and had been boyhood companions on occasion, especially when the royal family had come to visit the planet Tramet. Still, while there was a bond, it was a distant bond, stretching back over the years. Tramet hoped the prince would remember their childhood together. He especially hoped that the prince would have fond memories of Cecily. That, indeed, was key.

As it stood, the prince might not be disposed to receive visitors at all. He’d just arrived from his trip. He might want only to be left in peace. Since Tramet had not arranged this meeting, he knew there was a chance he’d be denied an audience with the prince.

He had to try. When his driver stopped at the door to the prince’s estate, Tramet leapt out and went to the door. He was met by a servant, a stiff elderly man, most assuredly the butler of the estate. The butler was a shrewd man, however, since he recognized him immediately. “Your Lordship, the Duke of Tramet,” he said, bowing slightly. “The prince was not expecting you, at least not that I’m aware of.”

“No,” said Tramet, “but I’ve come to beg an audience with him just the same. Will you find out if he’ll see me?”

The butler led him into a parlor and went to deliver the news of his arrival to the prince. Though he’d been told to make himself comfortable, Tramet paced the room instead, his pulse pounding.

* * *

The lift opened onto the bottom floor of the prison and Ariana and Aunt Tildy got out. They emerged into a room with low ceilings and no windows, since it was underground. Above them, the lights were bright and harsh. The room wasn’t large. There was a built-in desk along the far wall, and a uniformed man sat there, eyeing screens that displayed the interior of cells.

Aunt Tildy, still displaying the kind of attitude Ariana had coached her on, strode up to the desk as if she owned the place. Ariana stood behind her.

Aunt Tildy tapped her fingers on the desk. “Young man, we’re here with the Prisoner’s Charity League Women’s Auxillary. We’ve come to visit the prisoners.”

The man gave her a strange look. “I don’t know a thing about that.”

“We’ve been planning this for over a month,” said Aunt Tildy. “Just open up one of those corridors so we can go down and speak to these lost souls.”