A Night Without Stars (74 page)

“You got any proof of that?” Jenifa asked.

Corilla kept looking at Chaing. “You found human-Faller bodies at Cameron's, didn't you? What does that tell you about his gang? And anyway, why would I lie?”

“I don't know what motivates Eliters,” Jenifa said, “but I can find out easily enough.”

Chaing held up a finger for Jenifa to stop. “You're sure Roxwolf is a Faller?”

Corilla nodded. “Yes.”

“Do your friends know what he's up to?”

“There's been a big increase in arms trafficking over the last ten days,” Corilla said. “So much it's even making some of the gangs nervous. Especially right now.”

“You think he's supplying weapons to the nests?”

“I can't see what else it is. We all know what we're about to face.”

“Are your people prepared to lead us to him?”

“My people? You mean your fellow humans?”

“Yes. Will you lead me to him? It could be the breakthrough route into the nests we need.”

Corilla gave him a soft smile. “That's why I'm here. I'm your contact, remember? Can you get us back to Opole? The whole train network shut down last night.”

“I can get us back to Opole.”

The first signs that Opole's martial law wasn't as effective as it should be came when the PSR Cubar drove over the Yokon Bridge and turned onto Dunton Road. There was a junction of tram rails in the middle of the road, where the metal rails crossed. The overhead power cables were lying on the ground, their posts bent over like trees after a storm. A car had been abandoned in the middle of the junction and set on fire.

Chaing assumed the dents in its grille had come from repeatedly ramming the power cable posts until they toppled.

“Why isn't anyone fixing that?” he asked. “At the least they should tow it away.”

The driver, assigned to them from the Opole PSR office, shrugged as he edged their Cubar around the burnt-out wreck. Cars and vans waiting their turn on the other side tooted their horns angrily. “Everyone is registering at the regiment bases. Nobody is left on the maintenance crews.”

“That's stupid,” Chaing said.

Another shrug. “When everyone's registered and they sort out the command structure, things will get done in a hurry.”

“Has there been any more disruption to the tram network?” Jenifa asked. She was in the backseat next to Corilla and clearly unhappy with that arrangement.

“There've been about eight or nine junctions smashed up like this one,” the driver said. “They've got regiment squads guarding the important ones now, but trams are out over half the city.”

“Let me guess,” Jenifa said. “The routes out to the regiment bases?”

“Yes.”

Twenty minutes and three blood-test checkpoints later, they turned onto Broadstreet. Chaing had witnessed so much chaos lately, he was mildly surprised to see that the familiar old buildings were all still standing.

The Cubar pulled up outside the seven-story PSR office. Corilla stared up at it mistrustfully.

“We won't be in there long,” Chaing assured her as he climbed out of the front.

Jenifa strode across the pavement, pointedly ignoring them. Behind her back, Corilla gave him a small rueful smile.

A wall of sandbags had been put up across the entrance. Five armed officers were on guard duty. They saluted Chaing, even said: “Welcome back, Captain.” But he still had to hold out his thumb for a needle prick.

“She's in my custody,” he explained when they asked for Corilla's papers and saw
ELITER
printed across the front. They didn't like that, but agreed she could go inside.

“Ground floor only,” he told Corilla as they went in. “There's a waiting room down here. I can't allow you upstairs.”

“I'll try and contain my disappointment,” she muttered.

Even getting the waiting room opened involved forms to be filled out at reception.

“She shouldn't be inside at all,” Jenifa said.

“Then how do we set up this operation, Corporal?” he barked back.

“We have special cells for Eliters.”

He didn't bother responding to that. They took the stairs to the seventh floor. It wasn't as difficult as usual for his leg; all the practice he'd had with the Port Chana lighthouse had clearly paid off. Not that Jenifa waited. She was already in Yaki's office when he finally arrived.

“You brought an Eliter into my headquarters?” the director asked coldly as soon as he shut the door. “Why didn't you put her in a cell where she belongs?”

Chaing refused to even glance in Jenifa's direction. Instead he focused on Yaki. “This is an emergency, and she's an asset, not a prisoner. She won't be going anywhere in the building other than the waiting room.”

“All right.” Yaki was staring intently at Jenifa. “So why are you both back here?”

Now Chaing turned his head. “Corporal, would you explain, please?”

Yaki listened without comment as Jenifa told her of Corilla's claim about Roxwolf returning.

“He's a Faller?” she asked at the end. “Why did the gangs work with him? They're not that stupid.”

“Nobody ever saw him,” Chaing said. “He can't show himself because he's some kind of mutant Faller. The nests despise him as much as we do.”

“An unseen, all-powerful boss is quite a reputation to have,” Jenifa admitted. “It's also very convenient.”

“And this Corilla girl says he's buying arms for the nests?”

“That's what the local Eliters have told her, yes,” Chaing said.

“We have to investigate this,” Yaki said tightly. “If she's right, it's a direct route to all the nests in the city.” The scar on her face showed as a thin white line as she sat behind her desk, fingers steepled, their tips resting on her chin. “Okay. Chaing, you did the right thing bringing her here, but I've got a martial law to enforce. My officers are spread very thinly. There have already been some very proficient acts of sabotage, which we're prioritizing. So I'm going to let you and Jenifa track down any leads Corilla offers you.”

“I'm going to need a team—” Chaing started.

“No. You get me some positive leads, and I'll assign you whoever you ask for to follow up. But until then, you're on your own. And I don't want any heroics, understand? If you find Roxwolf, you come here and get some serious backup. I can't afford another Cameron's.”

“Yes, Director,” Chaing mumbled. “Can I at least have access to records?”

“I'll tell Colonel Kukaida to grant you full inquiry status.”

“Thank you.”

“Happy?” Chaing asked as he made his way back down the stairs.

“Why shouldn't I be?” Jenifa grunted back over her shoulder. She wasn't making any effort to slow down, as if emphasizing how her body was at its peak, while his…

“You practically shut down this investigation.” Which had surprised him. Yaki was section seven. Why had she even listened to a corporal who'd clearly had a run-in with her boss?

“No, actually, sir, we have free run of the city in the middle of a martial law clampdown. I'd call that a perfect result.”

Chaing glowered at her back as she turned around the corner of the stairwell. He paused at the turning, trying to get his breathing back under control. That way she wouldn't be able to see him struggling, revealing how weak he was. He wanted to look reasonably okay by the time he reached the ground floor.
It's going to be a busy day out of the office tracking down Corilla's sources. And I need a result…

“So?” Corilla asked when he finally got back to the waiting room.

“We're ready to start,” Chaing told her.

She gave him a slightly confused look. “Start?”

“Do your contacts know where a batch of weapons are being stored? Do they know who's involved? Their location?”

“I thought…Aren't there going to be observation teams?”

“The nests have already started to move against us. We don't have crudding time for this,” Jenifa said. “Do you know anything or not?”

“The Gates,” Corilla said, as if the information had been extracted with a sharp instrument.

Chaing opened the waiting room door. “What's there?”

“Ammunition,” Corilla said. “Stolen two days ago from a regiment armory.”

“Now we're getting somewhere,” Jenifa said as they walked out across the reception area.

“TerVask is in charge of the crew that pulled it off,” Corilla explained. “He's been throwing his weight around for over a week now. He'd only ever do that if he had Roxwolf's backing.”

Chaing smiled in pure delight. “Oh, thank you, Giu. I shall be very happy to resume discussions with terVask.”

His humor was only slightly dimmed when the entrance guards insisted on another blood test as they left the PSR office.

“Take us around to the garage,” Chaing told the Cubar's driver.

“What for?” Jenifa asked, immediately suspicious.

“We're both in uniform, Corporal. It's martial law, and we're going into the Gates. Do you think that's going to rouse any suspicions, let alone tip off any gang member keeping lookout?”

She nodded stiffly. “Of course.”

“We'll requisition an unmarked car, then go back to my flat and change into our civilian clothes.” He waited for a tell-reaction at the mention of the flat, but he didn't see one.

An hour later, an unremarkable eight-year-old Torova saloon car pulled up in Follel Road at the edge of the Gates district.

“Wait here,” Chaing told the driver.

He and Jenifa followed Corilla into the jumble of ancient, sinuous lanes. Here, at least, life seemed to be carrying on almost normally. They were constantly dodging cyclists who rang their bells arrogantly as they freewheeled down the cobbles. Adults scuttled along between the slanting walls, not making eye contact with anyone. Groups of kids in raggedy clothes rushed about playing their unfathomable games.

Corilla led them down MistleGate and stopped outside a battered old green door halfway along.

Jenifa frowned. “I know this place,” she muttered.

“You certainly do,” Corilla said.

There was the sound of thick metal bolts being drawn back. The door opened. Terannia stared out, her ebony hair disheveled as if she'd just gotten out of bed. “Get inside,” she hissed. “Quickly. Even you, girlie.”

The club was just about what Chaing expected, its ancient uneven walls coated in paint that must have been a century old. A small stage for musicians. Bar against the back wall, with plenty of casks and bottles of unlicensed hooch. Curtains over doorways. Not as many tables and chairs as there might have been.

Terannia walked over to a man a few years older than she, with short silver hair curling over his scalp and a neatly trimmed beard. Chaing was pretty sure he was a musician; he looked the type. He was introduced as Matthieu. “My business partner, and the club's musical director.”

Chaing was glad to see his instinct was still good. “So what have you got for me?”

“I overheard something at one of the tables last night,” Matthieu said.

“Oh, please,” Jenifa sneered.

Matthieu gave Chaing a look that was almost pitying. “Overheard at a table,” Chaing said firmly. “I understand. What did you overhear?”

“It was one of terVask's people. That piece of crud has delusions that's he's the next big gang leader, but we all know he works directly for Roxwolf. His people pulled off an impressive heist, some ammunition from one of the regiment armories. There's quite a lot of armaments stored in various depositories around the city; they don't keep everything at their headquarters.”

“And do you know where this stash of ammunition is being kept?”

“Minskies, over in TollGate.”

“It's a gang pub,” Terannia said.

“Actually, that's true,” Jenifa said. “I heard about it on my last assignment.”

“They're going to move it this afternoon,” Matthieu said.

“When?”

“All I know is: this afternoon.”

“They'll want to do it in daylight,” Jenifa said, suddenly decisive. “It's difficult enough with martial law; a curfew will make it practically impossible.”

“We need to get it under observation fast,” Chaing said.

“There's a sheriff station half a klick away,” Jenifa said. “It'll have a secure line to the PSR office.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No,” Chaing repeated. “PSR communications are compromised. We know that. Roxwolf had a lot of phone lines going into his hideaway under Cameron's. And it's not like we need to keep this from Eliters.” He grinned at Matthieu.

“So how do we observe Minskies?” Jenifa demanded. “You and me?”

“How many people are watching it right now?” Chaing asked levelly.

Terannia shrugged. “A couple of relatives of mine are close by.”

“You're going to use Eliters?” Jenifa asked in astonishment.

“Yes. Obviously terVask's people don't know they're being observed, or they would have done something about those
relatives.
Why risk bringing in new people?”

“What's the matter, girlie, don't you trust us?” Terannia goaded.

Chaing held up a warning finger at the club owner. “Don't, please.”

“We can tell you if we see them moving the ammunition,” Corilla said, “but what good will that do?”

“You keep a good watch across Opole. I know that.” He gave her a level stare. “Your friends must have observed my driving to Xander Manor that night. So they can certainly keep an eye out for any vehicle in daytime. Eliters walking about, Eliters riding a tram, Eliters looking out of a window. This is a whole city of casual observers. And they can update you on its location with your links. Right?”