Tales From The Empire Page 4

  "Certainly given the casual way Sif-Uwanis approach management and

  money."

  "Really," Karrde said, his estimation moving up yet another notch.

  He would have bet heavily that there wouldn't be a single person on

  Varonat who'd ever even heard of Sif-Uwana, let alone know anything

  about it.

  "Have you ever been there?"

  "Once," Celina said. "It was a few years ago."

  "Business or pleasure?"

  "Business."

  "What sort?"

  She lifted an eyebrow at him. "I don't recall an invitation to play

  Questions Three with you, Syndic."

  "No offense intended," Karrde said. "I merely find your presence here

  intriguing. You seem too skilled and well-traveled to be stuck out

  here in the backwater of the Ison Corridor. Not to mention your other

  obvious attributes."

  He'd hoped to spark some reaction, to shake up that calm facade of hers

  a bit. But she refused to turn to the lure. "Maybe I just like the

  peace and quiet," she countered.

  "Maybe I'm trying to raise a stake to get out." She locked eyes with

  him. Green eyes, Karrde noted distantly.

  A very striking green, at that. "Or maybe I'm hiding from

  something."

  Karrde forced himself to meet that gaze. There was a smoldering,

  almost bitter fire behind those eyes, driven by a turbulent swirl of

  emotion. He'd been right: she was no

  simple backwater hyperdrive mechanic. "You certainly instill me with confidence," he managed.

  The corner of her lip twitched upward in a sardonic smile; and abruptly

  the fire vanished as if it had never been there. Or had been nothing

  but an act. "Good," she said briskly. "Maybe next time you'll stay

  out of your hyperdrive mechanic's way and leave well enough alone."

  "I take your point," Karrde said, bowing slightly.

  "We'll be in the forward living areas if you need to know where

  anything is. Good evening."

  He gestured to Tapper, and together they backed out of the engine room,

  gathering up their packages again as the door slid closed. "What do

  you think?" Karrde asked as they headed forward.

  "You're right, she doesn't fit here," the other agreed.

  "One of Gamgalon's people?"

  "Probably," Karrde said. "Backup for Fleck, perhaps, or else just a

  general snoop. Mechanics and other service-people tend to be

  invisible."

  "Maybe." Tapper glanced down the corridor behind them. "If you ask

  me, though, someone of her talents would be wasted in straight

  surveillance."

  "Agreed," Karrde said, pursing his lips. "Could be she doubles as

  saboteur."

  "Or as ship thief," Tapper said grimly. "Gamgalon's covering up

  something with these safaris."

  They'd reached the yacht's lounge now. "Well, he can't steal this one

  without considerable effort," Karrde reminded him as he dumped his

  packages on the lounge couch. "As to sabotage; well, we should be able

  to ungimmick the hyperdrive in twenty minutes if we have to. And the

  Wild Karrde can be here in four hours if we need it."

  "I take it that means you're still planning to bring a comm-relay

  along?"

  "Very definitely," Karrde assured him. "But I'm not expecting we'll

  have to use it. My guess is that we're going to find the safaris are

  just Gamgalon's way of setting up clandestine smuggler meetings, and

  that Fleck and com

  pany are here to screen out any Imperial officials

  who might object to the proceedings. Come on, let's get this gear

  organized. Five-half is going to come early enough as it is."

  The rest of the safari was already assembled by the time Karrde and

  Tapper emerged from the Uwana Buyer just before five-half the next

  morning. "Eclectic bunch," Tapper commented as they walked toward the

  group and the three Aratech Arrow-17 airspeeders waiting on the field

  beside them.

  "Agreed," Karrde said, looking them over. A Thennqora, a Saffa, and

  two Duros, all resplendent in outfits and equipment as obviously fresh

  out of the box as the gear he and Tapper were wearing. Slightly off to

  one side, dressed in outfits that had just as obviously seen

  considerably more use, were a Krish, a Rodian, and Buzzy the laconic

  Human. "The group matches the escort," he added.

  Tapper nodded toward the Krish. "That's not Gam-galon, is it?"

  Karrde shook his head. "One of his lieutenants, I think. I doubt

  Gamgalon himself will be coming along."

  "Ah," the Krish called, beaming about as cheerfully as it was

  physically possible for a Krish to manage as he beckoned toward Karrde

  and Tapper. "Welcome. You must be Syndic Hart. I am Falmal; I will

  lead your expedition."

  "Pleased to meet you," Karrde nodded. "I trust we're not late?"

  "Not at all," Falmal said. "The rest were merely early.

  May I present your fellow hunters: Tarnish--" he gestured to the

  Thennqora "mHav and Jivis--" the Duros "mand Cob-caree" the Saffa.

  "Gentlebeings: Syndic Hart and Captain Seoul of Sif-Uwana."

  "Pleased to meet you," Karrde said, eyeing each of the others.

  None of the names were familiar, but of course

  that didn't mean anything. He and Tapper weren't using their correct names, either.

  "We waste time," Tarnish growled. "Get on with the hunt, Falmal."

  "Certainly," Falmal said. "If you will all find seats aboard?"

  Karrde and Tapper chose one of the airspeeders and strapped in. A few

  minutes later Falmal climbed in beside their Krish pilot, and they were

  off.

  "You run these safaris often?" Karrde asked as they flew low above the

  rippling yellow jungle.

  "Only a few times per season." Falmal threw him a speculative look.

  "You were fortunate indeed to have arrived when you did."

  Karrde gestured toward the rack of BlasTech rifles in the back of the

  airspeeder. "I'll consider it fortunate only if we catch something,"

  he said. "I'm spending far too much money here for just a round-trip

  tour through a jungle."

  "You will be successful," Falmal promised. "All are.

  Rest assured of that."

  They flew for an hour before putting down in a hilltop clearing.

  A small, semi-permanent looking camp had been built there, four

  buildings grouped around a burned-off landing area. "You must use this

  place a lot," Karrde commented as they settled to the ground.

  "It is the base camp for all safaris," Falmal said. "Here the pilots

  and airspeeders will wait while we continue on foot. Take your packs

  and weapons, please. We will move out immediately."

  Ten minutes later they were all tromping along a barely discernible

  path through yellow trees, yellow-green bushes, and a pale violet

  ground cover that looked disturbingly like masses of fat worms.

  Falmal was in the lead, with Tarnish, Karrde, and Tapper behind him.

  Buzzy was next, followed by Have and Jivis and Cob-caree, with the

  Rodian bringing up the rear.

  They traveled for nearly an hour before Falmal called a

  break in a small clearing that opened off beside the path.

  "Bit out of shape for this kind of exercise," Karrde puffed as he got />
  out of his pack and dropped it to the ground. "How far are we going

  today, Falmal?"

  "Wearied so soon?" Falmal asked, throwing a sharp-toothed smile at

  him. "Not to worry, Syndic Hart. Three hours more, perhaps four, and

  we will be at the main hunting area."

  "Morodins have been here," Tarnish grunted from behind him.

  Karrde turned to look. The Thennqora was crouched down at the edge of

  the clearing, prodding with a lofife at a patch of dark discoloration

  cutting across the ground cover. "Morodin slime was here," he said.

  "Several weeks old."

  "Well observed," Falmal said approvingly. "It was two months ago that

  one of our safaris hunted Morodins through this region.

  Unfortunately, their migration pattern has since taken them further

  away."

  "Wonder why we didn't land closer to begin with, then," Tapper

  muttered.

  "Perhaps airspeeders spook our intended prey," Karrde suggested,

  frowning. A meter behind Tarnish, along one edge of the slime mark, a

  neat row of short pinkish shoots was coming up from beneath a group of

  yellow-green bushes.

  And in the shadows behind them was a glint of metal.

  Stepping around behind Tapper, he started over for a closer look--"Time

  to go," Falmal called, slapping his hands briskly.

  "Packs on, all. We must continue if we are to reach our destination

  with enough time to begin a hunt."

  Karrde considered checking out the metal thing anyway, decided against

  it, and returned to where he'd left his pack. "You are a botanist,

  Syndic Hart?" Falmal asked.

  "No," Karrde said as Tapper helped him into his pack.

  "Why?"

  "I saw you looking at the Yagaran aleudrupe plants

  there," he said, pointing a long finger at the pink shoots.

  "You will see many such non-native plants in the jungle, I'm

  afraid--leavings of previous visitors to the Yaronat jungle who were

  less than careful with their provisions."

  "Provisions?" Tapper asked as he got his own pack on.

  "Aleudrupe berries are considered a delicacy on many worlds," Falmal

  said. "Some of those who join our safaris insist on bringing their own

  provisions. A few carelessly dropped seeds" He gestured elaborately.

  "We can only trust that the jungle itself will deal with such

  intrusions.

  Come, we must depart."

  They didn't spot any more slime remnants before they reached Falmal's

  chosen camping spot, at least none that Karrde could identify as

  such.

  There were no more aleudrupe plants, either. Perhaps after that first

  time the careless visitors had been warned.

  "So," Tapper said, bringing two cups of steaming liquid over to where

  Karrde had propped himself tiredly against a tree beside their tents.

  "What do you think of our fellow travelers?"

  Karrde looked over at the others, still struggling with the escorts'

  help to pitch their own shelters. "From the level of complaining

  during this last hour, I'd say they're exactly what they seem: bored,

  wealthy beings looking for excitement and somewhat annoyed they're

  having to work for it."

  "Hardly your typical smuggler, in other words."

  Karrde shrugged. "Maybe these are semi-legit businessmen Gamgalon

  wants to make deals with."

  "There are a million places in the galaxy he could set up private

  meetings without this much trouble," Tapper pointed out, sipping at his

  cup.

  "True. Incidentally, did you notice that piece of metal stuck in the

  ground behind those aleudrupe plants at our first rest stop?"

  "Yes," Tapper nodded. "Looked to me like a trans

  pond marker.

  Probably there either to mark the path or else to Keep track of the

  Morodin migrations."

  "Perhaps," Karrde said. "I can't help thinking, though, that Falmal

  reacted rather strongly when I started toward it."

  "You think it's something less innocuous?"

  "Could be," Karrde said. "Possibly part of a sensor array to" He broke

  off. Through the trees, from somewhere nearby, came a deep, rumbling

  growl. Across the encampment, Falmal straightened up as Buzzy and the

  Rodian unslung their blaster rifles. "This could be it," Karrde

  murmured, snagging his own weapon and levering himself to his feet.

  "Falmal?"

  "Shh!" the Krish hissed. "You will frighten it. We will break into

  the same groups of three as in the air-speeders."

  He hurried over to Karrde and Tapper as the others collected into their

  own groups and headed into the jungle.

  "Come. Quickly and quietly."

  They headed out, blaster rifles at the ready. "How can the Morodins

  get through these trees?" Tapper asked. "I thought they were big."

  "Morodins are long but slender," Falmal said, peering carefully through

  the trees. "They can move easily about the jungle. Ah--look!"

  Karrde swung his blaster rifle around; but Falmal was only pointing at

  the ground. "Fresh slime trail," the Krish said. "You see?"

  "Yes," Karrde said, eyeing the wide silvery line cutting across the

  ground cover and disappearing off into the trees. A remarkably

  straight line, too, veering only to get around an occasional tree.

  "A large one, too," Falmal said. "Come. We will follow it."

  "Doesn't seem very sporting," Tapper grunted as Falmal led the way

  through the trees.

  "The trail will not last long," Falmal said over his shoulder.

  "It appears and disappears."

  Karrde frowned off to his' right. It was hard to tell through all the

  bushes, but--"Is that another slime trail over there?" he asked

  Falmal. "Paralleling ours about three meters away?"

  "Yes, they usually move in pairs," the Krish said.

  "Quiet now. See, the trail is turning."

  Ahead, the slime trail had turned sharply to the left.

  Karrde craned his neck; sure enough, the other trail was turning to

  remain parallel. "That's a pretty sharp angle," Tapper muttered.

  "You suppose something scared them?"

  "Quiet," Falmal said again.

  In silence they continued on along the trail. It changed direction

  twice more in the next few minutes, turns as sharp and precise as the

  first had been. And then, to Karrde's surprise, it split into two

  different directions.

  "How did it do that?" he asked.

  "A third Morodin has joined," Falmal said. "Quiet. It could be just

  ahead."

  "Maybe a third, fourth, and fifth," Tapper said, nodding to the

  right.

  The paralleling slime trail there had split into three lines, two of

  them angling off three meters farther along the ground ahead of it.

  Swallowing, Karrde lifted his blaster rifle and took another step-And

  suddenly, there it was: fifteen meters long, rearing the front of its

  rounded body three meters up off the ground, a mottled yellow creature

  with spoonbill snout, stubby legs, and wide teeth.

  A Morodin.

  "Shoot it!" Falmal yelped. "Quickly!"

  Karrde's rifle was already against his shoulder, the barrel tracking

  the huge creature in front of them. The Morodin reared another meter

  of
f the ground, giving out the same deep growl they'd heard back at the

  camp.

  Karrde squinted down the barrel . . . "Wait a minute," he told

  Tapper.

  "Hold your fire. It's just standing there."

  "It is Morodin," Falmal snarled. "Shoot before it's too late."

  But it was already too late. From their right came a sudden sputtering

  volley of blaster fire, catching the Morodin solidly across its

  flank.

  Tarnish and Cob-caree, with the Rodian behind them, had arrived along

  one of the lines of the other slime trail. The Morodin growled once

  more, then toppled to the ground with a thunderous crash.

  "Well shot," Falmal all but crowed. "We will summon the airspeeders,

  and the pilots will prepare your trophy.