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Low Port Part 11

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Ferica was running guidesnaps outside the gate from Sansalibre. Legit, but just his excuse to prowl the concourses.

Wouldn't pay a hundredth of what he got from his real stuff. Snaps gave a full Highport map, quick call up, golden lines to the Heaven concourse. Saved souls from Sansalibre could have called up almost the same thing on the port net. Most didn't have mems, though. Understood that the Imperatior didn't allow them. Didn't even like the angels having a consulate there, but even an Imperatior doesn't buck the angels. Not when a single angelfire scout can take down any other system's dreadnought.

Meant that every so often the angels sent saved souls Heavenward, even from Sansalibre. Some even bought Ferica's guidesnaps.

Saw Ferica's gig, and slowed my pace, waiting until the pilgrims all pa.s.sed him.

"What you got, Snark?"

"Eight prime cubes to Purgatory. Lorico said you might be interested. Also two back to Sansalibre." Sansalibre was a throwaway. Not that much s.h.i.+pped back from Highport to Sansalibre. Other places, but not there.

"Solid cubes?" Ferica sounded bored.

"Solid. Reserved. Failed transfer, non seeking clause."

"Can take five. Em cred a cube."

"They want two em creds. Might be able to get you one and a half for five."

"Try for one and a third."

I backed off and ran the inquiry through. "One point four and you pay clearances."

"Done." Ferica smiled. Teeth looked steel, too. "Pa.s.s me the codes."

Raised my eyebrows.

"Two hundred creds for you. And something else."

Would have liked more than two hundred, but I'd been running close to margin. Did owe Moyra a good dinner, up level in town. "Codes... blue." Used the remote to trigger the transfer.

"Some hotware there, Snark. Careful who knows you're packing it."

"Loaner," I said. "Repaying a favor. Won't have it long." One way or another, I wouldn't. Snark with an Oligari would be a target if it got around, but things had been thin, and the multiple access had already netted me more options than I'd had in months. "Know anyone else who's looking?"

"Galusi-bulk cubes for Clarkburg. Can't pay more than half an em-cred per cube."

"You said..."

"Oh... something you need to watch. Someone knows you got hotware. Snoop look on you."

"Thanks." All I needed. Suspected something like that might happen. Headed farther out on the concourse. Galusi called himself a cargo broker. Had a real office. Small-less than three meters on a side. Real business, but not how or where he made most of his creds. Did removals-usually pilgrims who'd gone to the angels to escape. Folks who used Galusi didn't want recovery-wanted the word spread that even the permanent pilgrimage to Heaven wasn't certain if you cheated them. Never quite understood why the angels didn't shut him down. They could have. Hadn't, though. Not yet.

Ran a few more inquiries on the Oligari as I hustled outbound. Put in an inquiry for Clarkburg. Nothing on regular transit, but thirty bulk cubes on lowlight-take two years. Kept looking. Didn't find much, even with the Oligari, except some cubes available on a semi-level return run to D'Ahoud and hot-s.p.a.ce to Alpha Felini Hot-s.p.a.ce-didn't touch that. No one I knew could spring a hundred em-creds a cube. Not even the diablos.

Diablos-they wanted a way around Highport to Heaven. Always had. No one knew where Heaven was. Anyone, anything, going to Heaven went on an angel-s.h.i.+p with an angel crew. Only angels came back from Heaven-except once a decade-when they'd bring back a hundred pilgrims, turn them over to the lower worlds' techs for mem-testing. Supposed to prove that the stories about Heaven were all true. Hel! What did that prove? Angels could doctor anything, even minds.

Only thing it all proved was that they got better s.h.i.+ps, better weapons, and better ways of twisting the truth. If you believe such a thing as truth.

Got a bad feeling as I neared the portals for Xianth, but kept going. Shouldn't have.

Three Angels. Beyond the Xianth portals. Waiting. For me.

You can avoid Angels, go around'em. Don't buck'em or try to run. Did what I had to. Walked straight to them.

Angel in the center stepped forward. "Mario."

Could tell she was an angel, even without looking. No one calls me Mario.

"Yes." I bowed. No sense in being stupid.

One of their gold-green screens dropped around us. Left me alone with the angel.

"We have a favor to ask. An angel's missing. Somewhere here in Highport. We'd like to find her. Quickly. She's beyond scanners and screens."

"What kind of angel?"

"Does it matter?"

Did to me, but the tall angel wasn't going to tell.

"I haven't heard anything." That was true. Nothing except Moyra's fears I was being set up. "Haven't seen anything."

"If you do..." The angel beamed an access code into the Oligari. The hidden Oligari. Didn't ask. just beamed. "You'll know what to do, Mario."

The gold-screen curtain went down, and I kept moving toward Galusi's office. Could feel her eyes on my back. Creepy.

Anyone trying anything on the angels, might be Galusi. Stopped for a moment, and took out the Oligari. Snapped up a search and trace routine that would go off when I got inside Galusi's place.

Galusi surprised me. He was there. "You'd better have something good, Snark."

"Heard you were looking for bulk cubes to Clarkburg. How many?"

"I could use twenty. I'll take fifteen."

"You're lucky. Twenty at a tenth of an em-cred."

"I'll take it. Hundred creds for you, and you pa.s.s the access codes over now."

Before I had the codes, he'd made the transfer to my links.

"Codes coming.''

"Hotware for a snark," Galusi said.

"Loaner. Favor. Got to get what I can now."

Galusi snorted. Understood loaners. Better'n I did. "Later, Snark."

He was nervous. Would have bargained for a lower cubage rate. Didn't. Decided to push. "Saw three angels. Questioning people on the concourse."

"They're not supposed to do that."

"You going to tell an angel no?"

Galusi ignored the question. "Come back when you got cubes to Xianth."

Another way of telling me to get lost. No one ever got cubes to Xianth. Could feel the Oligani taking in the feeds. Decided to get gone. "Later. Could always get lucky."

Galusi laughed.

I was gone. Didn't stop till I was three portals away. Gimmicked the maintenance lock, and slipped down to the nearest dead spot. Unloaded and ran an a.n.a.lyzer on what the track and trace had come up with.

Three feeds from somewhere in Highport. Let the Oligari go to work.

Two were routine availability notices. Third was a double blind, encrypted. Checked the route bounces and the nanosecond delays. Had to have come from the Sandurco concourse. Only place in Highport with those patterns.

Wondered if the angels would pay. Then... might be nothing.

But... the Oligari had put me back in business when I'd needed it. Owed the angel something for that. Besides, didn't hurt to have an angel owing me. Better than the other way around. Lots better.

Headed for the Sandurco concourse.

No one stopped me. High speed guideway cost me ten creds and still took a stan.

Flipped off at portal four. Patrollers check and know the dead spots on the first three. Beyond that... secure s.p.a.ces under Lesser Worlds' Agreement. Whoever... had to be operating secured. Three possibilities.

Tried another maintenance lock. Opened it, but blew the alarm. Got beyond the monitors, but got no traces-just a long empty secure corridor. s.p.a.ce open and emissions zilch.

Went through the same routine after portal eight.

Down twenty creds, and probably another fifty for the alarm, if the patrollers pushed it.

Portal twenty-best bet, and didn't have to gimmick the lock. Oligari's routine found a Trojhors and had me through. No one on the other side. Not even a monitor, just a long corridor, same as around portal four. Felt different. Kept going. Empty s.p.a.ce and more empty s.p.a.ce. Nothing.

Didn't have much time before the patrollers or Sandurco privsec showed. Took my toolset, measured the field, reset the ID. Then dug out the spare mem from the pouch under my right arm. Boosted the field, set it with the phony of the Oligari and then crammed the Oligari's search routine into the spare. Overrode the safeties, and watched.

That much power on the spare mem-burn it out in less than a stan. Oligari ran that hot forever, but didn't want to do that kind of hackjob on the Oligari.

Took two minutes.

Hotspot a hundred meters ahead, and down fifty. Meant that someone had built a hideaway underground. Not many places near Highport where the fields allow that. Wondered how I'd get down there.

Access hatch and drop shaft behind a phony barrier. Used the back-up mem to fry the lock. Mem was half-gone anyway. Then took the drop at double speed and burst through the screen.

Big fellow, like Ferica, except he had white teeth and was reaching for a burner. Behind him was a pair of gene-overclone cradles. Looked like a med sculptech, renegade. Could find out later.

I didn't wait. Kept moving. May be small, but I'm not slow. Or stupid. Was inside his burner and had my ceramic blade up through his gut to the base of his heart before he could squeeze the trigger.

Burner still blazed across my shoulder. Hurt. Lots. Could barely see. Still managed to knock the burner to the floor. Kicked it out of the way. Sculptech sagged down, dying. He could take his time now.

Two women in the cradles. Restrained. Both naked. Beautiful. Identical. Silver-blond hair, tall, luminous green eyes, fine noses, but strong. Gene-tags'd show them the same.

Both looking at me. Neither spoke.

I couldn't either. Shoulder was hurting more, not less.

Forced another look around the lab. On the shelf to the left of the console was a wide belt, green, trimmed in gold. On the temphook stuck to the wall was a pilot's uniform-AngeLines.

I knew why the angel hadn't told me who the missing woman was. And Saalmo hadn't set me up. The angels had. Someone had wanted me to know what the missing woman looked like, and to have the right equipment.

Slipped the Oligari close enough to the consoles to run a diagnostic. Not one the angels or the Highport admin would have approved. Got a whole web of choices. Could have played games with the angels. No percentage in it.

Accessed the code the angels had given me.

"I've got your missing pilot-and the set up." Fed the coordinates from the Oligari into the web.

"We've got it. Don't move." That was the head angel.

Wasn't about to move. First, doubted I'd get far. Second, had other ideas. Could have waited for the angels, but ... infosnarks have their pride.

Both women in the cradles looked. at me. Finally, the one on the right moistened her lips.

Asked her, "How did they catch you?"

"It was a sophisticated sonic trap. There was a dead zone on one side of the corridor. I stepped around the maintenance floater, and they had me."

Probably the way it was, too. I turned to the other one, on the left. "What do you have to say?"

"It doesn't matter. They'll sort it out."

There was a quiet sadness in her voice. I knew why. So I stepped up to the console and triggered the releases on her cradle. "Better get your uniform on before they arrive."

The woman still in the cradle swallowed.

"I'd have thought you'd let her escape," offered the real angel. "We couldn't do that much to her."

"Not that cruel," I pointed out. "Couldn't do that to anyone. She'd be taken for a fallen angel. They don't last long. Whoever set this up... they knew that."

I didn't say any more because the side doors irised open. Angels and patrollers swarmed inside. The overclone was still in restraints. She didn't even swear.

Lead angel ignored the corpse. She had some kind of scanner. Ran the beam over both women. Then she turned to me.

"How did you know, Mario?"

"Wouldn't be much of a snark if I didn't, would I?" Turned to the head angel and offered her the Oligari, with my left hand. Right wouldn't move. "This belongs to one of yours."

She frowned, then reached out. Touched my shoulder. Lifted away the pain. Then she looked at the burner. "Hold still. This is going to hurt."

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Low Port Part 11 summary

You're reading Low Port. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Sharon Lee, Steve Miller. Already has 730 views.

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