Dragon Rigger (18 page)

Ar was off on a round of visits to finance companies and probably wouldn't be back for several hours. After some thought, Jael decided to go alone. The address turned out to be in a line of small offices at the edge of the spaceport. The area was dreary, the buildings a dirty grey. Only a faded number on the front distinguished the building at the address she'd been given. Inside, she found dim hallways and doors with grimy windows. At the end of a long hall, she found AAA Refitting and Resupply. It was only a little less depressing on the inside. Behind the front desk were ancient holos of three obsolete spaceships, all impossibly bright and shiny. The pictures had a slight distortion-shimmer to them. She was sure they were at least two decades old. The side wall boasted last year's calendar.

A matronly seeming woman walked out of a back room. Jael drew a breath. "Is Mr. Connolly here? I'm Jael—"

"LeBrae? Yes." The woman touched the com. "Ms. LeBrae here to see you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Murdock."

A wiry black man emerged from the back room and gestured her in. He took a seat behind a plain, but immaculate, oak-topped desk. He stared at her for a moment, without speaking. Jael perched on the edge of an old wooden chair and returned his stare. His eyes had no whites; they were entirely charcoal grey, except for the black pupils. Against his ebony skin, his eyes seemed to recede into the distance. Jael blinked, and started to say,
You sent me a message
,
when she realized that he had just introduced himself. "
Meez
Le-Brae," he continued, in carefully clipped syllables, his hands folded before him—and he hesitated, as though reluctant to continue, before giving a long, wistful sigh, "eet
ees
my understanding that you are in need of a
sheep.
Eef I may ask . . ." He hesitated again, then shook his head and continued, in an accent which she did not recognize, "Is thees so?"

Jael hesitated, then nodded. How did this man know? Did rumor travel that fast here in Krakow?

"Well-l-l, then," he said, with a scowl, "it may
bee
that I can be of asseestance to you. Or—I should say—one whom I represent wishes to hel-l-lp you." He twitched his nose. As she was about to ask, with considerable suspicion, what exactly he was talking about, he added emphatically, "This ees not my idea. But . . . we have heard of your eenterest in a sheep named
Seneca
—which is schedul-l-l-ed to be auctioned.
Eef
I may ask—is that correct? You have flown this sheep before?"

Jael felt her brow furrow up as she forced her head to nod. She felt paralyzed by bewilderment. Who the hell was this man, and who was his friend? Why should she speak to him? She wanted to run, screaming, from the room. She wanted to fall to her knees and beg him to say more. What did it matter who he was?

"Ah-ha." Connolly steepled his fingers on his desk, seemingly unaware of her reaction to his question. "
Meez
LeBrae, I may have a proposition of mutual inter-r-rest." He coughed delicately, as her breath caught in her throat. "That is . . . your friend, and my partner, Meester Gonzol-l-l-es, has asked eef we might join with you in the purchase of the aforementioned sheep. He has expressed his desire to share with you and your partner in the ownersheep of that sheep." Connolly paused, puckering his mouth. "If you would be inter-r-r-ested . . ." He sat back and stared at her, as though expecting her to take over the conversation. When she didn't, he asked with some impatience, "Would that eenterest you, Meez LeBrae?"

Jael stared at him stupidly.

Connolly looked pained. "Meez LeBrae, I am given to understand that time is somewhat of the essence in thees matter."

Jael struggled to reply. Who the hell was Mr. Gonzoles? Someone Ar had talked to? Had he already made it all the way down to this . . . dump of an office, looking for help? Tears began to well in her eyes, and she tried to make them stop.

"Meez LeBrae?"

Had this man just offered to help her buy
Seneca?
Or was she hallucinating . . . ?

"Meez LeBrae, you know who I'm talking about, yes? If I may say, you l-l-look sl-l-lightly confused—"

She shook her head, blinking. "I don't
know
any Mr. Gonzoles!" she blurted finally.

The charcoal eyes stared. "Meester
Kan-Kon
Gonzol-l-les? You don't know
Kan-Kon
Gonzol-l-les?"

Kan-Kon? she thought, certain she must have misheard.
Kan-Kon
Gonzoles? "Excuse me," she whispered. She shook her head. "That's ridiculous. Kan-Kon couldn't possibly be—I mean he's, he's—" A drunkard. A failure. A misfit.

"Yes," Connolly agreed, as though reading her thoughts. "That ees true. Nevertheless—"

"Are you telling me," she demanded, "that Kan-Kon is in a position to help me buy a
ship?
"

Connolly looked disconsolate. "Yesss, Meez LeBrae. I'm afraid so. I assure you, thees idea is as unsettling to me as it is to you." He hesitated. "But shall we continue?"

Jael swallowed and stared at him in disbelief. Connolly seemed to take that as assent, and went on to present the particulars of the proposed arrangement: a pooling of resources, a joint effort. It all seemed more than a little hazy to Jael; she began to feel as if she were flying in the rigger-net in some sort of syrupy landscape, unable to make her thoughts keep up with the events streaming by. Connolly talked, and she answered, but with only scant comprehension of what she was saying. Kan-Kon Gonzoles was going to help them buy the ship.
Kan-Kon.

Only after she had shaken hands with Mr. Connolly and left the office, promising to return with Ar, did the feeling begin to dissipate. Even then, her head seemed to be ringing so loudly she could scarcely hear a sound around her. But by the time she returned to her quarters, she was beginning to believe it, and to become excited, filled with the strange conviction that things were at last starting to turn her way.

* * *

By the time Ar came back, it was well after the close of business hours. Nevertheless, after she'd explained the situation to an incredulous Ar, she called Connolly, and he urged them to come right down.

It was now dark in the industrial park. There was a nightglow billboard on the side of one of the buildings, spelling out a graphic enticement for an erotic-aid product, with glowing, billowing green images and words that seemed to rise out of the flat side of the building. Jael was glad, as she walked past it with Ar, that it was too dark for him to see her flushing with indignation.

The hallway leading to Connolly's office was even gloomier than it had been in daylight, but the office itself was blazingly lit with ceiling panels. Mrs. Murdock was still there, along with Connolly and one other person. Kan-Kon was half leaning, half sitting on the windowsill beside Connolly's desk, his head bowed, fingers stroking his chin in thought. He looked sober, intensely so. He didn't stir for a few seconds after Jael and Ar came in. Then his eyes rose to meet Jael's, and at once darted away again, in embarrassment. She thought she glimpsed a faint upturn of one corner of his mouth.

"Now, then, do wee all-I-I know why wee're her-r-re?" Connolly asked, in a tone of obvious sarcasm. He looked from one to another with a gaze that seemed disapproving. Jael suddenly had a feeling that Kan-Kon and Connolly had been arguing.

Ar waited for Jael to answer, but when she didn't, he murmured, "Well, as I understand it, we're here to discuss terms for the purchase of a ship." He set his glowing eyes upon the silent ex-rigger. "Kan-Kon. Mr. Gonzoles. I am . . . surprised. I believe I speak for Jael, also."

There was an awkward pause. Kan-Kon suddenly looked up and grinned broadly. "Guess I never told you, when I quit riggin' I went into the shippin' business."

Ar shook his head, his lips crinkling ever so slightly. "I believe you omitted that fact. But then"—and he glanced at Jael—"I suppose we never asked, either."

Kan-Kon continued to grin. "But I
tol'
you I kep' my hand in."

Jael flushed. You did, she thought. And we never asked because we thought you were a hopeless drunk. We thought you slept in the street at night. Go ahead and say it, Ar, it's true.

"I reckon it's understand'ble," Kan-Kon admitted. "After all, I don't 'xactly—well—that is, I do have my problems. I'll be th' first to admit it. And I don't exactly run what you would call a
high-class
shippin' firm—do I, Herb?"

Jael found herself quaking with silent, astonished laughter. "You mean, this is—" Her voice failed, and she gestured around.

"My outfit, more 'r less, yep." Kan-Kon cackled suddenly. "Not that Herb here would let me brag much about my contribution to the day-t'-day operation—would you, Herb?"

Connolly steepled his fingers on the desk, looking long-suffering but near the end of his patience. "
Eef
I may say—
weeth
all respect—we do a profitabl-l-le enough business here. That is"—and his gaze darkened even further—"when we refr-r-rain from . . . unwise purchases."

Kan-Kon suddenly became serious. "Yep, we make a pretty good profit—thanks almost entirely to Herb Connolly, who don't drink near as much as I do. An' if he owned any more of the company, he'd prob'ly kick me out on my rear, an' I couldn't much blame him. And o'course, the whole place would fall apart without Mrs. Murdock—isn't that right, Mrs. M?" He glanced at the older woman, who merely sighed, shaking her head in disapproval.

"But you two don't give a dinglydamn about that. You need a ship. And mebbe I can help you." He paused, while Jael and Ar looked at each other and back at Kan-Kon, who grinned again. "Wouldn't you know, it happens that we've been known to buy a ship or two at auction. Thing is, right just now, we don't have the capital to buy your ship,
Seneca
, right out. But I thought just mebbe, if we put our heads together, we could become
shared
owners—Herb's quite proper reservations notwithstanding, you understand. Then you could take that flight you been dreamin' about to certain regions of the civilized realm." With a sidelong glance at Connolly, he winked at Jael. She could not help trembling with hope.

"
Eef
I may say—" Connolly interjected.

"No, Herb, you may not," Kan-Kon barked, with sudden vehemence.

Connolly stiffened. "I am onl-l-ly trying to prevent a terribl-l-e mistake. Do you know what it could cost you to—"

Kan-Kon shook his head. "Sorry, Herb. Yes, I do know. But this time I'm pullin' rank on you."

"Then perhaps-s-s you should theenk about finding another operations manager-r-r."

Kan-Kon sighed. "Herb, Herb—don't take this so personal, will you? You can go right back to runnin' the whole show and makin' us lots of money, just as soon as these folks is on their way."

Ar spoke before Connolly could reply. "May I ask . . .
why . . .
you're offering to do this? It's not that I'm unappreciative, but . . ."

Kan-Kon glanced at Connolly, who looked away—then suddenly leaned forward. For a moment, he seemed to be gathering some inner strength. He closed his eyes and said, "Yeah, I guess I can tell you. Or try, anyways." When he opened his eyes again, they were burning with intensity. "There was a time, once, when I didn't do somethin' I should've done." His voice caught. "When I ran . . . instead of standin' and doin' what a rigger might've done."

"You mean—" Jael began.

"I mean—I don't know what I coulda' done to save him, exactly, but I do know my partner's dead because I was too scared to try." Kan-Kon drew his lips together, touching his chin with one hand, looking as if he were thinking of something that he was afraid to speak of, even now. He shook his head slowly. "At least, I'm pretty sure he's dead. And if he's not . . . oh holies, I bet he wishes he were." Kan-Kon's breath whistled out in a nervous sigh, and his next words were whispered. "Because I know from what the iffs—ifflings—said, that there's somethin' dangerous out there. Somethin' mighty big, and dangerous, and growin', and—well, I guess you know it as well as I do, you told me about it yourself. You called it—what—?"

"Tar-skel," Jael whispered with a shudder.

"Right. And that's really, I figure, what got Hoddy. It scares me to think about it, even after seven years. But . . . mebbe I coulda done something about it then—for Hoddy, anyways—but I didn't. And mebbe now I got another chance."

Connolly looked disgusted. "Dangerous
fantasies
," he hissed. "You run from fantasies, and now you dr
eenk
and you won't take the treatment for it because—"

"Not fantasies!" Kan-Kon shouted. "
Real.
" His voice softened as he turned back to Jael and Ar. "Real. And maybe you two can do somethin' about it, in my place. Just maybe."

Ar stared at him for a few moments. "What exactly are you proposing?" he asked quietly. "
Seneca
goes up for auction day after tomorrow."

"Don't y'know." Kan-Kon drew himself up, and nodded as though dismissing his disagreement with Connolly. "But what 'f we paid off her refit bill? What if we stopped that old auction and bought her at a favored price from your old employer? You think he might go for that? Hell, at auction, he'd be lucky to cover his legal fees, anyway."

"She," Jael croaked.

"Beg your pardon. She. But she might jus' do better, and
we
might do better, if we cut a deal on that ship and get her off that auction block before she gets on. What do you say? Can you reach her?"

"She's on Vela Oasis," Ar said.

Kan-Kon frowned. "Long ways away. If we can't reach her, I don't know if we could do it. We could pay to spring the ship, but how do we know she'd honor the deal?"

"I'd trust her," Ar said slowly. "But it would be better to have confirmation, certainly."

Kan-Kon pointed to the com, finger tapping. "Fluxwave is as close as your phone," he said cheerily. "Class One 'gram, and you pay for it?"

Jael winced at the thought of the cost. But Class One was the surest way to get through. She swallowed and nodded to Ar. He stirred, but before reaching for the com, he asked one more question. "Exactly how much were you looking for us to invest?"