"Huh? The Brotherhood knows you're here?"
"Relax," Reetal said. "Nobody but Heraga knows I'm working for the
Mooleys. I told the Duke I had a big con deal set up when the
_Camelot_ came in--I even suggested he might like to get in on it. He
laughed, and said he had other plans. But he won't mention to anyone
that I'm here."
"Why not?"
"Because," Reetal said dryly, "what the Duke is planning to get in on
is an hour of tender dalliance. Before the _Camelot_ arrives,
necessarily. The cold-blooded little skunk!" She hesitated a moment;
when she spoke again, her voice had turned harsh and nasal, wicked
amusement sounding through it. "Sort of busy at the moment,
sweetheart, but we might find time for a drink or two later on in the
evening, eh?"
Quillan grunted. "You're as good at the voice imitations as ever. How
did you find out about the cubicles?"
"I took a chance and fed him a Moment of Truth."
"With Fluel," Quillan said thoughtfully, "that was taking a chance!"
"Believe me, I was aware of it! I've run into card-carrying sadists
before, but the Duke's the only one who scares me silly. But it did
work. He dropped in for a about a minute and a half, and came out
without noticing a thing. Meanwhile, I'd got the answers to a few
questions. The bomb with which they're planning to mop up behind them
already has been planted up here in the normspace section. Fluel
didn't know where; armaments experts took care of it. It's armed now.
There's a firing switch on each of their ships, and both switches have
to be tripped before the thing goes off. Part of what they're after is
in those Pendrake rest cubicles--"
"Part of it?" Quillan asked.
"Uh-huh. An even hundred similar cubicles will be unloaded from the
_Camelot_--the bulk of the haul; which is why Nome Lancion is
supervising things on the liner. I started to ask what was in the
cubicles, but I saw Fluel was beginning to lose that blank look they
have under Truth, and switched back to light chitchat just before he
woke up. Yaco's paying for the job--or rather, it _will_ pay for the
stuff, on delivery, and no questions asked."
"That's not very much help, is it?" Quillan said after a moment.
"Something a big crooked industrial combine like Yaco thinks it can
use--"
"It must expect to be able to use it to extremely good advantage,"
Reetal said. "The Brotherhood will collect thirty million credits for
their part of the operation. The commodore's group presumably won't do
any worse." She glanced past Quillan toward the room portal. "It's
O.K., Heraga! Come in."
* * * * *
Sher Heraga was a lean, dark-skinned little man with a badly bent
nose, black curly hair, and a nervous look. He regretted, he said,
that he hadn't been able to uncover anything which might be a lead to
the location of the bomb. Apparently, it wasn't even being guarded.
And, of course, a bomb of the size required here would be quite easy
to conceal.
"If they haven't placed guards over it," Reetal agreed, "it'll take
blind luck to spot it! Unless we can get hold of one of the men who
knows where it's planted--"
There was silence for some seconds. Then Quillan said, "Well, if we
can't work out a good plan, we'd better see what we can do with one of
the bad ones. Are the commodore's security men wearing uniforms?"