Long View - Zelde M'Tana Part 12

your ignorance. People tend to do that-or try to-with someone in a position like mine. Well, I don't have time today to pursue the matter." Now, completing the final turn onto level ground, she turned eye to eye with Zelde. "But if I ever do decide to take the time, be a.s.sured that I'll get correct answers."

What the h.e.l.l? Zelde made a smile, not big, not long. "Ms. Verrane-there's any time you want answers, you'll get the best I have." As she thought, This one didn't take long to fix it so there's no way to tell any truth at all.

Now the car slowed. Verrane pointed toward a concrete building to the left, opposite the s.h.i.+p's direction. "That's where I'm going. You don't mind walking the rest of it?"

Mind? This way, going aboard, no chance anybody'd call Zelde by name and Verrane hear it. "Just fine. Let me off where you turn, up ahead?"

"Surely." And she did.

Zelde got out. "Well, thanks for the ride, Ms. Verrane." For seconds she wondered how much the woman knew about her husband-but then decided that was none of Zelde's business. The car moved on; Zelde walked to the Great Khan and climbed ups.h.i.+p.

She found Parnell, just off-watch, in quarters. "Want to hear where I been, and all?" He nodded, and she began.

When she was done, he frowned. "I did something wrong, maybe?"

"No." He shook his head. "It's Verrane-Cort Verrane-that bothers me. When it comes to s.e.x I'm widely tolerant, but outright sadism-it would be none of our business, except that perhaps he carries it into other areas. And we have to deal with the man."

He shrugged the matter away. "You, now, Zelde. Plastering the town with two false names in the same costume is a bit clumsy, 1 suppose. So, simply don't wear that outfit again."

He paused. "The bartender's reaction when you didn't know the-what was it, again?"

"Jash-or trair; one." She thought back. "I took the pink stuff for trair, that's it.

So it must be jash, and trair's green and comes in little thimbles." Deciding she had the answer, she nodded. "I guess he just got sore because I tried to bluff."

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"Any stranger might do that. So it must be because you're new."

"n.o.body else off here had trouble in town, did they?"

"No." Carefully, Parnell set about cutting and lighting one of his rare cigars.

"But the others went in groups, and wearing s.h.i.+p's insignia. Identifiable. So it may be that Parleyvoo is nervous about strangers they can't peg down. From Summit Bay, for instance."

Zelde thought. "Terranova having a bad case of politics, you think? But locals from the continent, they'd know the booze."

Parnell gestured. "Different areas, different specialties, perhaps. But why else wouldn't the man simply a.s.sume you were off the s.h.i.+p?" Zelde didn't have an answer. Parnell frowned. "If we've landed in the middle of some kind of ferment, we'll have to watch our step. And nose around a lot. I've never heard of a UET colony rebelling but that doesn't mean it never will." He looked like he was tasting something sour. "Well, time to go check on hull maintenance."

After he left, Zelde lay down for a nap. Before her watch came up, she could use some rest.

Next time Zelde visited Old Town, she rode. Lera Tzane was driving, and behind sat Turk Kestler and Rooster Ho-gan. Zelde and Lera were dressed as officers, though Zelde wore "fat clothes" and the bushy wig. Brushed forward, it s.h.i.+elded her face pretty well. The other two were in clean worksuits with rating emblems at the collars. They left s.h.i.+p at mid-afternoon, all but Tzane freshly off-watch. The Sec- ond Hat's next duty began at midnight. She said, "Anywhere special, that anyone wants to go first?"

They'd already talked on that, Turk and Zelde and Parnell. It was getting urgent, to find a handle on some Hidden World they could get to; they couldn't hang around here forever. Zelde knew what Turk's first idea was, but the other didn't speak up, so Zelde guessed she was supposed to carry the bucket herself, for now.

She cleared her throat. "Maybe it's dumb, but I'd like to check out that bar where I had the trouble. Find out right away, if this outfit I got on fools anybody. Use my own name this time-and everybody remember, I'm new there. All right?"

Slowing the car, Lera turned to look at Zelde. "But why 108.

take a risk like that? I should think you would avoid that place.", Behind them, Turk spoke. "To go there, might be a help. To me, that is. I'm supposed to be looking for Underground contacts; remember? Well, first thing-I nosed around a little, talking to groundhogs at the port, and this Ba.r.s.e's place has a funny smell when anyone mentions it. It just might be worth checking." So she'd had to say it herself, after all.

Tzane coughed, then said, "And the second thing?"

Turk smiled wide, no gaps in her teeth now. "If I make a mistake and say the wrong words to the wrong party, I can tip Zelde to pull the wig off and feed it to Ba.r.s.e. Sometimes a diversion helps." Until Zelde gave an elbow nudge, Lera didn't seem to get it that Turk was kidding, that last idea. But then she nodded, and brought the car up to speed again for a while, and as they came into the town, Turk said, "This Underground thing, it's all mine, here. Don't any of you try to guess what I'm doing, or listen if I say anything odd, or even think about the problem.

We're here in town to have some fun. And to stay out of trouble." Then Zelde knew why Turk hadn't wanted to say anything; she'd wanted the others relaxed, not jittery. Oh, well . . .

So Lera Tzane parked the groundcar alongside the blankwalled building across from Ba.r.s.e's place. The four crossed the main road and went in; at this time of day the room was nearly filled. Slouching, trying to look shorter, Zelde looked around and pointed to a vacant table, halfway between door and bar, and a little to the right. In four of the table's six chairs, they sat.

Skinny Ba.r.s.e, scraggly beard and all, came to take their orders. His left cheek bore a bruise. Did I do that? Don't remember it. Zelde shrugged; in Ba.r.s.e's line of work, fights likely weren't all that rare.

He showed his brown-toothed grin. "Off that s.h.i.+p, aren't you? What's your pleasures?"

The others looked at Zelde. All right, it was her show, this part. She'd check out Parnell's ideas. "Some drinks. What-all you have?"

"Local, you mean? What little I've got from offworld, costs heavy." On his fingers he counted names. "There's beer and jash and trair, mainly, for straight drinking. Lots , of different things I could mix up for you, too, if-"

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"Beer I know, but not the other two. What are they?"

In his professional friendly look, no change. "Trair has the most wallop-doesn't taste strong, which fools some." He laughed. "Jash, now, it gives you more leeway.

Peach-colored, you'd expect it to be sweet but it's not, very. And the beer-well, beer's beer, isn't it?"

Rooster and Turk ordered beer; Lera Tzane chose jash. Ba.r.s.e looked at Zelde; she said, "Trair with a beer chaser."

He blinked at her. "It's your head," and he went to fetch the drinks. Tzane paid for the round. Ba.r.s.e said, "Enjoy yourselves. Want more, just holler," and went back to the bar.

Turk grinned. "Sounds as if Parnell was right. Strangers are okay if the people here know where they're from."

Zelde nodded. She sipped trair, and decided its strength wouldn't fool anybody who paid attention. Not much taste at first, but after she'd swallowed, a tart glow filled her mouth; it grew for some seconds and then faded. When it was gone, she took a mouthful of beer. She felt the urge to drink more trair-but decided not to, just yet.

"This stuff," she said, "This trair. You got to watch it, all right. Good, though- d.a.m.ned good."

Turk's brows raised. Zelde handed the tiny gla.s.s across for a sip; Rooster took one also, but Lera shook her head.

Rooster pursed his lips. "Something more than alcohol in that."

Turk stared at him. "Doped, do you think?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Not the way you mean; the stuff's a regular part of the drink."

"What kind of stuff?" Asking, Zelde did feel a little odd-her coordination seemed too fast, and everything she saw was sharp at the edges.

"I forget what it's called." Rooster squinted at the green trair. "If it's the same thing I ran into on Far Corner-and it could be, for that's not much of a jump from here-" He paused. "Anyway, the barman's right-be careful of it. Because the other stuff in that drink, it lets you get happy as h.e.l.l on the booze part without being drunk.

But it wears off a lot faster than the alky does. So if you've taken on any kind of a real load, all of a sudden there you are-bombed flat!"

"All right. After this one-and a jash, to see what that's like-I'll stay with beer."

Still, she found she finished the 110.

trair faster than she meant to. She had a jash-Turk and Rooster tried one each, too, and Lera had a refill-and paid that round.

The talk lagged. Hard to find a subject-n.o.body seemed to be listening to them but still they couldn't speak of the real situation on the s.h.i.+p, and so far there wasn't much to say about Terranova or even Parleyvoo. And Earth, now, hardly seemed to exist.

Zelde liked jash-it was something like a dry wine, but stronger. But as she'd said, after one gla.s.s she went to beer. Actually she was ready to leave-she didn't think there was more to learn here-but n.o.body else was in a hurry so she waited.

Rooster bought the third round; Lera, with duty coming up, had coffee. The fourth was Turk's, and this time the blonde woman Softie brought the tray. She showed no sign of recognizing Zelde, or of hurting from Verrane's games two days earlier, and Zelde hoped she'd controlled her start of surprise when the woman smiled-with teeth. False ones, sure. But as soon as Softie went back to the bar, Zelde said, "After this one, let's go."

No one objected. Rooster said, "Excuse me a minute," and walked off toward the end of the bar, then around a corner, out of sight. When he came back, he said, "Real chummy, the facilities. Just one room-two squatters and a trough."

Half-standing, Lera Tzane sat again. "There'll be somewhere else."

Turk laughed. "I'm not waiting. Zelde?" And the two went to the room-it wasn't dirty, anyway-and paid no more attention to the one man present than he did to them. Well, the Kids had never bothered much about being private. . . .

Outside the bar, they walked down toward the docks. About halfway they came to a newer-looking building, a restaurant, and decided to eat. Lera Tzane nodded; the place had two toilet rooms. When she came back, a man brought menus.

He was short and wide, with a big nose; Zelde hardly noticed his other features.

She looked at her menu and didn't recognize much that was on it; she said, "We're off the s.h.i.+p. Tell us what's really good here, will you?"

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The man smiled; he showed small, s.p.a.ced teeth. "If you're Earthers, let me say, our native land beasts are mostly red meat-not far off what you're used to. From the sea, now, my own favorite is stooger-either the end joint of the foreflipper or else a rear haunch, which feeds two. As to what the .animal is, in your terms-well, more like reptile than fish, I'd say."

Turk and Rooster chose red meat; Lera and Zelde shared a stooger haunch. Zelde found it tangy, and firm to chew but not tough. She sampled the mixture of vegetables from the steaming bowl in the middle of the table. Also they had a big pot of coffee; Turk took a sweet dessert with hers, and Zelde decided she could manage another gla.s.s of trair.

And now, knowing the effect ahead of time, she wasnt bothered by it.

They walked to the waterfront. Standing at a gap in the row of buildings where a warehouse had burned, they looked seaward. Straight out across the water, slightly north of west, the sun neared setting. At the horizon a slight haze gave a pink tinge to the light blue sky; above, one bright strand of cloud glowed brilliant scarlet. As they watched, the reddened sun slowly moved to touch the line where sea met sky, then quickly sank.

"Nice that there's a good long twilight, this time of year," said Rooster. Lera Tzane nodded, and moved off to the left, looking at s.h.i.+ps and smaller boats. The others followed. After walking about half a kilometer, they turned back and reached the main road again.

Going upslope a little now, they strolled. The walking, Zelde found, eased the overstuffed feeling she had from dinner. Behind them the sky gave light-not like day, of course, but enough for clear seeing.

So when the tall woman stepped out of a bar, half a block ahead, Zelde recognized the uniform. Even without the blue-and-red plastic mask-which now, she saw, swung at the woman's belt-she knew it.

Turk, stopping, spoke first. "Policeb.i.t.c.h!"

Before Zelde could answer, tugging.at Turk's arm to get her moving again, Lera Tzane said, "Of course there'll be Committee Police here. I'm surprised we haven't seen any 112.

before, here in town." Then: "Come on, Turk. Do you want to look suspicious?"

Kestler nodded and began walking. Rooster winked, and muttered encouragement. Nudging Zelde with her elbow, Tzane laughed; after a moment Zelde understood, and laughed also.

A mistake, maybe. Because now the Policeb.i.t.c.h-and that was the only way Zelde could think of her-turned to look at them, and stopped.

They kept walking. Zelde mentioned how the light shone off the windows of a pink stone building; Lera gestured toward a flagpole in the vacant square across the road. Rooster laughed.

As they came closer, Zelde saw the .woman better. Tall-a strong-looking person with a dark, lean face under close-cut black hair. Indian, maybe? American Indian, she meant. Not smiling or scowling, just giving them an intent look. And standing in the middle of the path-so that when they reached her, the only natural thing to do was stop.

"You're off the s.h.i.+p?" The quiet voice gave away nothing.

Lera Tzane was senior; she answered. "The Great Khan. Yes."

"And you have your papers, of course."

Quickly, Tzane produced hers, and gave her name and rank. Gesturing toward the others, "They're with me." And before the woman could ask, gave their names and ranks. Yes, that was right, Zelde thought-to UET, it's who's in charge that matters. n.o.body else counts.

Looking at Lera Tzane's ID, the Policewoman nodded. "Promoted on this trip, right? How did that happen? I see this is only your third time out."

Tzane gave a quick summary of her s.p.a.ce career. Best part, thought Zelde, was that except for blaming Second Officer Terihew's death on a drive room accident, it was nearly all true. Good thing it's not me, having to do this spiel!

Tzane got her papers back. "All in order, Second Officer. One thing, though-do you go in for this sort of outing much? Officers and ratings together, I mean- socializing."

Lera made a tiny shrug. "Off-duty rules have eased quite a lot, even at Headquarters-Newhausen Port-on Earth.

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Captain Parnell didn't like it at first, but then he found it didn't affect s.h.i.+pside discipline. And here-with our one lone s.h.i.+p groundside and only a few on leave at once-he decided that segregated liberty tours weren't practical. Too lonesome, with no other s.p.a.cers around."

The Policeb.i.t.c.h actually laughed! "'All right. Have yourselves a good evening, and stay out of trouble."

"Of course-and thank you." As they walked away, Zelde felt relief. For one of the Committee Police their own d.a.m.ned selves, the woman hadn't been half bad!

As if reading her thoughts, Lera Tzane said, "They're not all ogres."

One side of Rooster's face twitched. "No. It's just that you shouldn't forget-any time they want to, they can be."

Here was the widest part of town; the cross-streets were longer, and the group strolled along one. Away from the main road, the orderly row of buildings gave way at street's end to a hodgepodge gathering-close-packed, here, with narrow alleyways running in no regular patterns.

The sky had darkened. Lera Tzane looked at her chrono; Zelde squinted at her own. trying to apply s.h.i.+p's time to the Terranovan day. "We'd better start back,"

Tzane said. "There are a few things I need to do aboard s.h.i.+p, before I go on watch."

So they went back to the main road and walked toward the groundcar. As they reached it, two more cars-neither filled-came down the road and pa.s.sed them.

Several of the riders waved and shouted greetings.

"That was Dopples." said Zelde, "driving the first car. Anybody recognize more of them?"

Rooster nodded. ''Harger drove the other one. The ones with him are his First, Juvier, and a Chief rating in Drive."

"In for their own spree," said Turk. She sighed. "Fact is, I think I'll stay a while longer, myself. May have spotted a possible contact; like to have a shot at following it up."

"I'll stay with you." said Zelde. "All right, Lera?"