Rogue(92)

“Likely,” I agreed.

The body slumped in a chair at a desk, head over the table and slightly misshapen. Next to the head was a blood-greased candleholder, either gold or gold plated, and obviously massive. On the desk were old-fashioned books, two reading tablets, a partially eaten sandwich of what smelled like roast beef on pumpernickel, a bowl of plums, and a jar of Curry’s Cracked Kernel Mustard.

“Actually rather subtle and elegant,” I said. “It minimizes traces.”

Marquardt said, “A rental vehicle came into the area, parked about a kilometer away in the crumble. A single person got out, visible on thermal and visual. His signature was small, and he began taking evasive maneuvers, then disappeared about two hundred meters out. He appeared again before we were called, about a hundred meters out, and seemed to mount a small zipcycle. It was abandoned closer toward the city proper. Both vehicles were rented under different assumed names.”

“Well done,” I said. “Do those names attach to anything else?”

“Not that we’ve found so far.”

“I expected as much. Well, we can look for any residue off the chameleon, or any evidence outside.”

“We’re working on that, and will do more in daylight, of course. Floodlights have limits, but we’re starting.”

“I expect he’s far in toward the city by now, and anything he used has been destroyed. Those chameleons aren’t cheap, though. They’re also a screaming banner to any port security.”

Marquardt said, “It seems to me he’s showing off. A grenade through the window is as effective. Messier, maybe, but that doesn’t bother him. Except last time it was messy and not elegant, and a lot of work for something that could have been done easier. This also required serious infiltration. Do you care to give me a bit more on his background?”

I hadn’t given anything, and didn’t care to.

“He’s a veteran with some issues.”

Marquardt accepted that, and seemed to chew on it. “While we didn’t exactly wade in on the surface, our nation helped yours in the War by providing flight data, pushing our neutrality—which only affected UN ships; yours didn’t come through our system—delaying them when we could, and offering safe port and passage to any of your flagged merchant vessels who did make it. I’d hope he’d be angrier at Earth than us.”

“I don’t think anger enters into it,” I said.

“Yes, it’s clear he’s for hire, and apparently not cheap. The messages these activities are sending must be impressive. Whoever hired him is looking to terrify the competition.”

Patroller Meyerson said, “He’s terrified me. The motion sensors were active. There’s a stun field. He made it through both, with little hesitation.”

Marquardt looked at me. “Can you guess how he managed that?”

“I cannot,” I said. I couldn’t guess. I knew exactly how he’d done that because I’d taught him. I was not going to share that information.

Instead, I offered, “We suspect some of his financing was damaged in the Buckley Bank matter. That may make him desperate to take anything he can get, or he may be frugal and austere. We’ll send some info.”

“That’s useful,” he said. We stared at the body for a few moments. Surrounded by his books, fine food, a lovely view, then clubbed to death with a single massive blow. There are no good deaths, but this probably wasn’t a bad one. Perhaps “ouch,” then nothing.

“Well, there’s little else here,” he said. “His widow is distraught and sedated with a friend on site. The evidence crew will be here all night. He’s not going to be coming back that we can tell. We’ll just compile the data tomorrow and go from there.”

“I think that’s all there is,” I said.

Apparently, it wasn’t too nice a day to die.





CHAPTER 20





The next morning, I called Timurhin.

“Dobrij den,” he answered.

“Yes, we spoke earlier about a prototype contract. I’ve got some time in my schedule to work on that for you.”

“Where should we meet?”

“Your Café Americain, in an hour.”

“I will be there.”

We cut the call.

Silver asked, “Do you feel safer?”

“Yes. They’ve got too much time tied up to dissemble now, and Randall’s making the news weekly or better.”

“There’s that pending news special on the High Tech Assassin,” she said.

I nodded, “Yeah, I’ll bet they hate that visibility. I bet Randall loves it. I doubt he’ll interview in person, but he just might throw some comments at them.”