Jinx on a Terran Inheritance (50 page)

Janusz nodded. "I'm sorry for what happened," he told Victoria. "The boy left me no choice."

She inspected him coldly. "You brought it on. You welcomed it. I was right about you from the start."

Notch's alley gangsters bought the story of their leader's having been killed by fire from a dying guard.

They'd already learned how tough the clones were to kill. More, they were tense and anxious to be away, shaken by the battle. Loyalty to Notch suddenly ran a distant third behind getting the wealth they'd been promised and escaping the combat zone before something else happened. The raid was only thirty-two minutes old.

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[Fitzhugh 2]-JINX ON A TERRAN INHERITANCE

The alley runners had assembled cargo-moving equipment, loading boxes, and cases onto surface-effect handtrucks and pallet jacks. Floyt set aside his preoccupation and turned from the body of the young Custodian who'd almost entered the destruct code. There was a numb satisfaction that he'd managed to stop the boy with the shockgun rather than a bullet. But it had been so close, so close. Floyt was still sweating at the gamble he'd taken, wondering if he'd ever have the nerve to do a thing like that again.

He sorted through material that had kept the Camarilla in uneasy equilibrium for two centuries. "This appears to be an original compact or agreement of the first Camarillans," he said, showing Alacrity a document. "It's printed on natural Spican tissue-parchment; aged in a way that, I think, it would be impossible to fake."

Teams of alley runners were hauling the strange booty back to the drillhole. The adults pitched in, to hasten things. Floyt showed Alacrity a tube of memory rolls. "There's more, see? Centuries' worth.

We've got all the evidence we need."

"But not all the time," Janusz interrupted, throwing another case of data onto a pallet. They'd stripped the room in a matter of minutes; the cache of primary data was smaller than many personal libraries Alacrity had seen. "Move quickly!" Janusz finished.

Jumpily eager kids took that as the signal to get going to the drillhole with the pallet jack. Off they rushed, leaving Floyt, Alacrity, Janusz, and Victoria alone in the denuded room. Only a few boxes were left, and some odds and ends, along with the unconscious Custodian boy and his elder.

"We should make a last sweep through the place," Floyt said dubiously. "There might be other caches."

"We've got what we came for," Alacrity stated. "This
had
to be it. If we don't get moving right now those kids are liable to take off for the skyline without us, or heist the evidence with the notion they can sell it off or something."

They took up the few remaining containers and loaded them with the last of the evidence. Alacrity found some current read-files, folders of Parish Ink and Paper material rather than primary evidence, but he tucked them into a box anyway, on general principles. They set off, lugging the boxes.

At the intersection of the T, they came across two abandoned pallet hacks, the one that had just left the cache and another, empty one that had been returning for a last load. All four adults had their weapons out, alert to danger, but saw and heard no signs of violence.

There was a sound to one side, in the direction of the treasure room. Gun barrels swung that way and one of Notch's kids, one of the ones who'd rushed off with the last load, came at them out of the drifting knockout smoke. She was holding gems and small bars of natural gold. Her eyes were huge behind the file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...aley%20-%20Jinx%20on%20a%20Terran%20Inheritance.htm (265 of 320)19-2-2006 17:12:31

[Fitzhugh 2]-JINX ON A TERRAN INHERITANCE

eyepieces of her mask.

"Look! Look at what Gippo found! There's a whole room of it back there!"

Janusz said, "We have no time for that now. You can all come back later if you wish, but you have a job to do first."

He went to take the plunder away from her, but she skittered back, dropping finger-size gold bars to produce her gun. "Not likely, old meat! Your highbreeds do what you want with your bloody trashpaper; we're working for ourselves now. And we're taking the moving rigs."

Janusz's posture said he was considering summary action but, perhaps with Notch's death in mind, he relaxed. "You may take the empty one. The other is ours."

She grabbed the control handle and steered it off to the treasure room, the pallet jack floating along behind her easily. Alacrity picked up one of the little gold bars, looked it over thoughtfully, and put it in his pocket. The four crowded everything onto the other jack. "You just can't find reliable help anymore,"

Alacrity observed.

"We really have no more need of them, if it comes to that," Victoria said. "What I'm worried about is that other ship."

"And the other estates getting involved, and the tribes, and who knows who else," Floyt extended the list.

They barged along, holding the precariously balanced material in place, Alacrity and Janusz doing the main pushing and pulling. Floyt and Victoria assisted, doing convoy duty and doubling back every now and again to shag some item or other that had fallen off the pile.

When they reached the drillhole, no one else was around. Handtrucks and other pallet jacks had been abandoned in the preliminary unloading stages. It was quiet, and the smoke seemed to be thinning.

"Gold rush madness," Alacrity said. "They're probably all back scrabbling around in the treasure room.

This is a good time to exfiltrate. Those kids'll have more money than they can use anyway; it's not like we're stiffing them."

He went to the power lift the alley runners had set up. It was a circular platform, narrow diameter, attached to the hoist cable. Taking a box of evidence with him, he got on.

"I'll make sure everything's okay, then you can send up the rest. I'll tap the hole three times with this."

He unlimbered his gun then hit a switch on a cable fitting and was hauled upward, passing through the green smoke, up into clear air. He still wondered why the smoke was not escaping through the drillhole.

The upper level was empty too. He shoved the box of data aside onto the floor as soon as he came chest-file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...aley%20-%20Jinx%20on%20a%20Terran%20Inheritance.htm (266 of 320)19-2-2006 17:12:31

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level with it, scanning quickly in all directions. Outside a nearby window he could see that the blankets of sealant had been burned and rent by blasts, so that the remains were only shreds in the wind. The upper level was free of the gas.

He holstered his gun and dipped his head as he stripped off the sweaty, smelly mask, wondering if he'd be able to contact the
Harpy
or
Stray
now. He no sooner shucked the mask than he felt a gun at his temple, another at his back, and hands grabbing his shoulders, tangling in his hair to hold him immobile, clapping over his mouth to silence him. He was disarmed.

Something sharp and cold traced along his cheek, drawing blood, as he was held fast. "Hello, baby." It moved into his angle of vision, a jeweled metal fingernail sheath.

Oh, fuck
! he tried to say, but it came out muffled.

There were
Lamia
crewpeople around the drillhole, and Constance had a thermobeam handgun close by his head. She was wearing her regatta outfit. "Who else is down there?"

The hands came away from his face, a little. "Snow White and the Brotherhood of Mineworkers," he said. So, the
Lamia
had been a diversion, to draw away the
Harpy
and
Stray
while this landing party sneaked in.

She tapped him hard on the bridge of the nose with her gun barrel, while other hands rifled his pockets.

"What are you after, down there?"

"I'm telling you, there's enough here for everybody. Stay calm, Constance; you can have as much as you want."

"There
isn't
that much." Someone had found the finger-bar of gold and handed it to her. "So, this is it?

How much more is there? Who else is down there?"

"If you'd be reasonable for a second, we can make a deal here."

One of her goons gave him a clout on the ear. "I knew you and the others hadn't left. Those cowards at the compounds—all they wanted to do was save their precious skins. I want your ass, and that little worm Floyt's," she said with a delicate
frisson
of anticipation. "It would take plenty to buy you out now, cutie."

There was still no activity below, Alacrity not yet having given the all's-clear.
Lamia
crewmembers covered the drillhole. Alacrity doubted those below had heard anything going on above through the narrow hole.

Constance gave his box of evidence a kick, sending it sliding. "And I don't mean a pile of memorabilia!"

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[Fitzhugh 2]-JINX ON A TERRAN INHERITANCE

She flicked the thermobeam at it offhandedly. A reel of tape ran molten.

Alacrity drew a deep breath, looking at the box, thinking most vividly about one of Floyt's Earth stories.

Don't throw me in that briar patch!

"Hey, watch it!" he yelped, trying to break loose. "Leave that stuff alone; it's important! You don't underst—"

Somebody hit him hard on the side of the neck and he rocked. "I can do whatever I want," she warned archly. "Now tell me what I want to know, or I'll do this—" She lit up a roll of memory lozenges with the beamer. "Or this—" A folder flared up, the wrong one, curling into ash and sending up gray flakes.

Alacrity wondered if honest people had this kind of problem.

"Or this," said Constance as she fired at a current read-file. The file went
woof
! and green smoke billowed. Alacrity struggled—to distract them, not because he thought he could break free. Someone threatened to crush his windpipe with a forearm. He quieted.

The gas spread even faster than he'd hoped. Constance had a peculiar look on her face as she tried to keep her pistol aimed at him. The grips on him were already loosening, and he felt his head spin.

"This is your last chance to … to … " she said, trying to recall what she'd started to say. "Your last chance … "

Her eyes grew enormous as it came to her that she'd been popped. She tried to press her thumb down on the firing stud of her gun, its muzzle wavering off target so that her groggy crewpeople yowled and ducked, letting go of Alacrity. He heard bodies thumping to the floor as the smoke thickened and could himself barely stay on his feet.

Constance never got off a round. He had the satisfaction of seeing her go down first; head emptied of thought, he dropped.

After a long, drifty time, Alacrity came around for a moment. His head was banging, his stomach was rebelling, and even his eyeballs hurt. He was looking up at the frescoes in
Astraea Imprimatur's
salon.

"
Uhch
! Did we win?"

His head was in the Nonpareil's lap. "We did what we set out to do," she said. "I think that qualifies as a win."

Sintilla bent close. "We've got all the evidence, except for what Constance destroyed. Janusz and Corva and Victoria are getting us into Hawking now."

Floyt moved into his line of vision too. The Earther had handfuls of documents and data. "I think we file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...aley%20-%20Jinx%20on%20a%20Terran%20Inheritance.htm (268 of 320)19-2-2006 17:12:31

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also finalized accounts with Constance, Alacrity. When we left, Notch's gang was in control of things.

The
Lamia's
gone for good. I wouldn't be surprised if Constance ends up scrubbing floors for the kids.

Oh, and you'd be surprised how fast word gets around in Parish; when we took our leave, there were mobs from Tombville looting Old Raffles and breaking into the Repository."

"Well, nobody needs a little plunder worse than they do."

He tried to move, then inhaled with a sharp hiss of pain. Whatever the knockout smoke was, it was
nasty
.

"Relax for a while, Bright Eyes," Sintilla said. "You'll need your strength."

"Uh-oh. I don't think I like the sound of that."

Sintilla grinned. "After all, we've got the evidence to crack the Camarilla wide open, but now we've got to
do
something with it. Are we gonna have fun now!"

CHAPTER 22—WITH THE RICH AND THE MIGHTY

"Alacrity, I never would've guessed it of you: you're innocent. It says so right here." Sintilla held up the message wafer.

"Maybe the Custodians' intel wasn't so great after all," Heart said as she applied a dressing to Floyt's wound. She gave Alacrity a sweet leer. "Innocent,
ha
!"

"No, no, it says so right here in this report," Sintilla insisted.

Everyone but Janusz was assembled in the
Stray's
salon, going through the captured materials. They found that along with the load of Camarilla evidence, they'd also seized the most recent packet of communiques from various Camarilla sources, including the Alpha-Bureaucrats of Earth.

"Let's see that," Alacrity said, putting his own reader aside. " 'Background data' … 'Weir Inheritance' … 'Project Shepherd'—huh! 'Misexecution of the original plan to recruit Fitzhugh for Project Shepherd by arranging for him to be convicted of encouraging public disorder and incitement to riot'—I guess they didn't know how to spell 'frame'—'resulted in commission of accidental manslaughter by crowd member, for which Fitzhugh was subsequently charged and convicted. Indications of official involvement were suppressed and neutralized by Earthservice supervisor Bear.' Oh, if I ever see her again … "

"Time for that later," Heart said. "For now, it's time to not push our luck anymore and to get into Hawking. Janusz! When will we be ready?"

Janusz, returning aft from the bridge, said, "Whenever we want. I've put the last mathematical model file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...aley%20-%20Jinx%20on%20a%20Terran%20Inheritance.htm (269 of 320)19-2-2006 17:12:31