Echo. Part 10

"Maybe."

"But there've always been people who can't see above the rooftops. Most people, probably."

"You're turning into a pessimist, Alex."

"Turning into one? Where've you been the last few years, Chase?" He looked at me in the half-light from the instrument panel, and he laughed again. The guy was really happy that night. More so than I'd seen him in a while. Alex tends to be emotionally pretty level. He doesn't get depressed, and he takes his successes in stride. But something good was happening. And I didn't think it had anything to do with a stone tablet. into one? Where've you been the last few years, Chase?" He looked at me in the half-light from the instrument panel, and he laughed again. The guy was really happy that night. More so than I'd seen him in a while. Alex tends to be emotionally pretty level. He doesn't get depressed, and he takes his successes in stride. But something good was happening. And I didn't think it had anything to do with a stone tablet.

Leicester Square is beautiful immediately after sunset. The growing darkness is partially offset by illumination from concealed lamps. The least bit of wind sets the broad leaves of the spiva trees to swaying gently. In winter, the fountain is shut down, but that evening, with serious cold weather a month away, it was still flowing, glittering with reflected light. People were feeding nuts to the birds. At the north end of the park, kids were tossing a ball around. And there was of course the inevitable dog.

Well, not a dog, really. A gooch gooch, probably the closest thing Rimway has to a canine.

Public parking inside the Square is restricted to a single area on the western perimeter. We got instructions from the traffic monitor and descended onto the indicated pad. We were about five minutes from Rachel's condo.

We climbed four or five stone steps onto a covered walkway and stopped at the front door. It asked who we were.

"Chase Kolpath and Alex Benedict," Alex said.

"You are not on the approved list."

"Please inform Ms. Bannister we are preparing a history of the Directorate of Planetary Survey and Astronomical Research. We would like very much to speak with her for a few minutes. We won't take much of her time."

"One moment, please."

The buildings at Leicester varied from two to four stories. They were designed in the late-modern Ortho style: curved walls, convex windows, turrets in unexpected places. A gust of wind blew dead leaves along the walkway.

The lock clicked. "You may come in. Ms. Bannister's unit is number forty-seven." "You may come in. Ms. Bannister's unit is number forty-seven."

The entrance hall had no antigrav lift. Instead, it provided a staircase and an elevator. We took the elevator, got off on the fourth floor, found the room, and paused. The door opened, and Rachel Bannister smiled at us and said h.e.l.lo. "Please come in," she added.

She was lovely, in a contained way, a woman with cla.s.sic features, inquisitive blue eyes, and brown hair cut short. She was a bit taller than I am, and she struck me as someone who was accustomed to having her way. Our unannounced appearance had probably given her the impression we were not to be taken seriously. "I wish I'd known you were coming," she said. "I have to be leaving in a few minutes."

"I'm sorry to have imposed," said Alex. "We could come back at a more convenient hour if you prefer."

"No, no. I'm sure you'd like to get your research done. Let's get it taken care of." The lights were dim, consisting of a single overhead strip and a lamp on a side table at one end of a long, padded sofa. A gorfa was curled up on the sofa, watching us with narrowed eyes while its tail swished gently back and forth. A second one looked in from the dining room to see what was happening, turned, and wandered away. Rachel noticed they'd gotten my attention. "I have three of them," she said. "All strays." She looked down at the one on the sofa. "This is Winnie."

Winnie recognized the name and rubbed her head against a cus.h.i.+on.

Rachel was in casual clothes. Unless she was headed for the gym, she didn't look as if she'd been planning an evening out. Two matching armchairs, and the sofa, were centered on a circular coffee table, on which a book lay open. I couldn't make out the t.i.tle. The walls were stucco, decorated with pictures of children, one of whom might have been a ten-year-old Doug. Two wide curtained windows provided a view of the park. And a framed certificate from the Amicus Society, awarded for "extraordinary service," hung on the wall. The Amicus Society, of course, is devoted to the care and welfare of wildlife. I saw nothing that suggested she'd once piloted interstellars.

She invited us to sit and asked whether we'd like something to drink. She had some chocolate liqueur, which has always been a turn-on for Alex. I settled for a gla.s.s of wine, and she mixed something for herself. I glanced at the open book and asked about it.

"It's Dead by Midnight Dead by Midnight," she said. "It's a Keith Altman novel." Keith Altman, of course, is the celebrated private detective in the cla.s.sic series that's been popular throughout the Confederacy for almost two centuries.

Alex and I took the armchairs, and she settled onto the sofa. Rachel commented that she'd heard of Alex and p.r.o.nounced herself surprised that he had found time or reason to visit her. "My understanding, Mr. Benedict," she said, "is that you sell antiques. I think there's a game of some sort being played here. Are you and Ms. Kolpath really writing a history of Survey?"

Something in her manner indicated nothing was to be gained by lying. "No," said Alex. "That's not really quite accurate."

"And what, if I may ask, do you actually want?" Her voice hardened. It didn't become hostile, just don't bother me with nonsense. She glanced my way, as if expecting me to respond. But this seemed like a good time to let Alex carry the ball.

He weighed his answer. Tasted the liqueur. "It's good," he said. She did not respond, and he continued: "Actually, Ms. Bannister, I think you know."

"Really?"

"Now you are the one playing games."

"I do not not play games, Mr. Benedict." Her manner s.h.i.+fted slightly. Became more intense. Not cold. Not angry. But she let us know we were close to crossing a line. play games, Mr. Benedict." Her manner s.h.i.+fted slightly. Became more intense. Not cold. Not angry. But she let us know we were close to crossing a line.

"I understand you knew Somerset Tuttle."

"Yes," she said. "I knew him. He was a friend."

Alex looked my way. "Chase is also a pilot."

The tension did not go away. "I haven't done any of that for a long time."

I took my cue and smiled back. "I envy you, Ms. Bannister."

"Really? Why is that?"

"Most of us just haul people and freight around. You were out there in unknown territory. You never knew what lay ahead. Must have been pretty exciting stuff."

"For the most part, I simply ran tours." She paused. "Is that why you're here? To inquire about my emotional state?"

"No," I said. "But I just travel port to port, occasionally. And take Alex out once in a while. Mostly, I sit at a desk. You, on the other hand-"

She gazed at me. "Have you tried Survey, Ms. Kolpath?"

"No. Not really."

"I have friends over there. I'm sure I could get you a billet if you'd like to put a little more excitement into your life."

"Thanks," I said. "I'll think about it."

Alex pretended to look annoyed, thereby annoying me me. It never occurred to him that I might have been serious.

"Now," said Rachel, keeping focused on me, "did you want to get to the point? Or should we just chat for a bit? I really am am running out of time." running out of time."

"Tuttle left us with a puzzle," said Alex, in a level voice. "He owned a tablet engraved with symbols we can't identify. They don't look like any known human language."

"Really? Well, it's probably from one of the digs. Sunset was inclined-bear with me, Somerset Somerset, that is-liked to collect souvenirs. I don't specifically recall a tablet tablet, but it's possible. Maybe it's from Karinya. Or Dismal Point. Settlements were established there. Thousands of years ago. I know he visited places like that occasionally."

"Ms. Bannister, didn't you send your nephew to Tuttle's former home to pick up a tablet?" He produced a picture of the object and handed it to her.

"Oh," she said. "Yes. The rock. I had no idea that's what we were talking about."

"May I ask where it is now?"

"In the river, Mr. Benedict, as best I know. Look, I have no idea why you're so overwrought about this. But yes, I saw the rock, the tablet, when it was advertised. Try to understand that I had a close relations.h.i.+p at one time with Somerset. When I saw the tablet appear, and realized what it was and that someone was getting rid of it, my first thought was that it would be nice to have it here. Sentimental value. So yes, I asked Doug to go by and pick it up for me. Is anything wrong with that?"

"When you realized what it was-What actually was it?"

"It was an object once owned by a man I cared about."

"You don't know any more about it than that?"

"No."

"They were halfway back here, and you changed your mind. Told them to drop it in the river. Right?"

"I told Doug to get rid of it. I left the details to him."

"May I ask why you changed your mind?"

"I told you it had sentimental value."

"Yes?"

"It occurred to me that having it here, where I'd see it every day, would be painful. Now, if you want to find out precisely where it is, you need to ask Doug. I can give you his code if you like."

"Ms. Bannister, you know, of course, what Tuttle's life work was?"

"Of course. Everybody who knows anything about him knows what he was looking for."

"We were wondering if he succeeded."

"Oh." She broke into a spasm of laughter.

"You think it's funny?" Alex said.

"I think it's hysterical, Mr. Benedict. If you knew the man, you'd understand that if he found anything like what you're suggesting, he'd have told the world. Within twenty-four hours. It's all he cared about."

"Did he care about it even more than he cared about you?"

That hurt. I saw it in her eyes. "Yes," she said after a moment. "He didn't care about me that much. We were friends. That's all."

Alex's voice s.h.i.+fted a notch. "Is the tablet here?"

Her eyes widened. "I'd invite you to look, Mr. Benedict, but I don't think you're ent.i.tled to that privilege. And I think prolonging this conversation will simply be a waste of time." She got up. "I really must be going."

The condo had a kitchen, a dining area, and, if my guess was right, two additional rooms. "Ms. Bannister," Alex said, "I'm prepared to make a substantial offer if you would simply allow us to examine the stone." He named a figure. It would have bought a luxury skimmer.

Rachel looked at me. "Chase, you need to find a more rational a.s.sociate. I do do recommend you look into a position at Survey." recommend you look into a position at Survey."

"Let us see it," Alex said, "and we'll say nothing to anyone. If that is what you wish."

She walked over to the door and told it to open. "I wish I had it, Mr. Benedict. So I could take your money." She smiled pleasantly. "Good evening."

"Good evening," Alex said.

As we pa.s.sed out into the corridor, she lingered in the doorway. "I'm disappointed, Mr. Benedict. After everything I'd read about you, I had expected more."

Alex faced her. "You understand, Ms. Bannister, that you've taken unlawful possession of an object that is covered under the General Antiquities Provision Act?"

"What are you talking about?"

"If the tablet is what we think, it can't be acquired by a private individual. It's protected."

"You're being silly, Mr. Benedict. You just finished telling me that Somerset owned it."

"In a presumptive sense. In fact, an object like that belongs to everyone."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"If you refuse to cooperate, you'll leave me no choice but to notify the authorities."

"Do as you like. I'm not sure what it will do to your reputation when they get here and discover you've been making it all up."

"What's the General Antiquities Provision Act? I've never heard of it."

"Actually, it exists, but I don't think it outlaws private owners.h.i.+p-"

"Then why-?"

"Use your imagination, Chase."

"Alex, don't you think she'll look it up? She'll find out quickly enough you, um, weren't being truthful."

"I don't think we need worry about that."

"Why not?"

"It's a law law, Chase. It's a hundred pages of fine print written in legalese."

I shrugged. "I think she's telling the truth," I said, as we rode the elevator down.

"That brings us back to the original question."

"Which is-?"

"Why isn't the tablet in the river? Does Doug Bannister strike you as a guy who would be interested in artifacts?"

"His wife might."

"I don't think Doug's wife is in charge here."

"So what's next?"

"You feel like doing a stakeout?"