The Terrorists of Irustan (23 page)

twenty-six

*   *   *

Compensation for Port Force employees includes transport to the offworld site and return transport at the end of the contract. If the employee decides to remain on the world of service, financial remuneration will be made equal to the cost of return transport to Earth, this consideration to be made once only, contract renewal is at the discretion of the employee.

—
Offworld Port Force Terms of Employment

“H
ey, Johnnie!”
Rocky called from the open cargo bay of the shuttle. “There’s a precedence call for you. General’s office! What have you been up to?”

Jin-Li shrugged without releasing the robot arm. It swiveled above the cart, lowering to deposit a large, soft-sided carton. “How much medical materiel left?” Jin-Li asked.

“Never mind that,” Rocky said. “Precedence! Better go.”

Jin-Li hesitated. “Stuff needs the CA compartment.”

Rocky signaled to another longshoreman, and keyed in the change on his portable. “Off you go, Johnnie. Hope it’s not trouble. If you can take your deliveries, let me know.”

Jin-Li tossed the cart keys up to Rocky before turning to jog out of the shade of the delta wing into the blaze of heat. Several other longshoremen, laboring under the weight of the cargo, hooted and called out dire predictions. Jin-Li saluted them, adjusted cap and glasses and trotted across the field. The star glared hotly from a pale sky. Tiny reflectant particles in the hot bitumen shot random spears of light between Jin-Li’s feet. It was a kilometer to the terminal, and it wouldn’t do to arrive at the general’s office dripping sweat. Jin-Li slowed to a quick walk.

Tomas was waiting in the shade of the private doorway. His uniform, as usual, was uniquely accessorized, but his coquettish air was absent. Hisplump features didn’t wear seriousness well, but he made it clear that he meant to be serious. He greeted Jin-Li quietly, then ordered the door open.

Jin-Li followed Tomas up the plain narrow stairwell, nothing to see but Tomas’s plump thighs and ankle bracelets. At the top another door obeyed Tomas’s voice. Moments later Jin-Li stood before Onani’s big desk. Onani began immediately.

“Chung,” he said, his dark features remote. “We have another one.”

Jin-Li sat down without invitation. “Who is it?”

Onani swiveled the reader so the screen faced Jin-Li. “Binya Maris is his name,” Onani said. “Here’s his history, as far as the Liaison Office has it recorded. And a postmortem report from Sullivan.”

Jin-Li scrolled down the screen, scanning for a medicant’s name. Medicant Shera Yilma, medicant for Delta Team. A spurt of relief almost brought a smile, quickly suppressed. Postmortem findings from Dr. Sullivan showed Binya Maris, Delta Team leader, had contracted and succumbed to the leptokis disease. No conjecture on how that was possible.

“Maris’s houseman says he went to the Medah two days before he got sick. He thinks he might have touched a leptokis there, gotten too close.”

“He’d have to eat the thing,” Jin-Li said.

“Yes,” Onani answered. “So Dr. Sullivan informs me. Now, Chung, what have you found out?”

Jin-Li gave a shake of the head. “I’ve gone to the Medah, as you instructed. Made my deliveries, seen the medicants, talked to their escorts as best I could. I saw the leptokis vendor in the market square ...” Saw Asa IbSada buy one—but Asa was not a medicant. Jin-Li shrugged. “Nothing to report.”

Onani leaned forward over his desk. His teeth flashed white between his dark lips, but it was not a smile.

“Chung, I know”—he paused and repeated the word
—“know
there’s something on here. Something the Irustani won’t tell us, or can’t. This history . . .” He spun the reader with a negligent flick of his finger. “This tells us nothing.”

He leaned back in his chair and pressed his palms together. “The directorate doesn’t know what’s causing these deaths. We’re straining our relationship with the Irustani trying to find out, and their reluctance to discuss illness makes it complicated.”

“This medicant? Shera Yilma?”

Onani sighed gustily. “She’s terrified. Of the disease, of her husband, of us. And she claims Maris took his therapy.”

Jin-Li waited.

“So, Chung. Nose around Delta Team, this medicant’s office. You’ll have to talk to her escort. It’s a sure thing she won’t talk to you. Find the connection between these deaths.”

“What if I do find something?” Jin-Li asked warily.

Onani gazed across the desk above his steepled fingers. “It depends what it is,” he said.

“But, Mr. Onani . . . Port Force has no jurisdiction in domestic matters, do they?”

“Port Force’s interest is economic,” Onani said flatly. “If there’s an epidemic beginning, they’ll be sending personnel to address it. If it’s a domestic matter, we’ll deal with it, at least to the extent it affects the directorate. Remember why we’re here, Chung.”

“Rhodium.” Jin-Li resented the patronizing tone.

“Yes. Rhodium. Nothing else.” Onani stood up, and Jin-Li did too, automatically, then regretted it. Should have made Onani work harder to end this—meeting, interview, warning—whatever it was. “Shall we relieve you of duty?” Onani asked.

There must have been a signal of some kind. Tomas returned, stood silently waiting.

Jin-Li said, “I don’t think so. If I have deliveries to make, it’s easier. To go places, talk to people.”

“Fine. Don’t come to the office again. Just call me.”

Tomas held the door and Jin-Li went through it. There were no farewells, but Onani said quietly, “I’ll expect to hear from you soon . . . Jin-Li.”

Jin-Li looked back at Onani. He stood, arms folded, black eyes hard, by his big desk. He lifted his chin slightly, a neutral gesture that could have many meanings. Jin-Li dropped long eyelids and indulged in a very slight shrug.

*   *   *

The medicant’s clinic at Delta Team was cramped and almost invisible from the narrow lane connecting it with the mine office building. Inside were only two surgeries and one small room that served both as the medicant’s office and dispensary. The escort was an elderly retired miner, gray-haired, stooped. The medicant herself was fully veiled while Jin-Li was in her office, and completely silent. Her escort spoke for her in everything.

Jin-Li presented the vacuum barrel and the carton of replacement medicator tubes, received a nod and thanks from the escort. Moments later Jin-Li was back in the hot sun, standing beside the cart, empty-handed but not surprised. Medicant Shera Yilma followed protocols to the letter. Jin-Li looked around at the environs of Delta Team, wondering what to do next. Onani wanted something soon, and two days had already passed.

It was midday, and the rock wagons rumbled only a few dozen meters away, slogging back and forth between the adit and the piles of discarded rock. The enormous fans hummed monotonously above the tunnels, and the scanners on the roof of Delta Team’s offices revolved slowly, glittering. Miners moved between the buildings, some with masks and other equipment dangling at their belts, others wearing flat caps and carrying portables or cases.

Jin-Li brought out sandwiches from the meal hall and leaned one hip against the hot metal side of the cart to eat. The miners who passed looked up curiously, slowed, then went on, though Jin-Li smiled and nodded in a manner intended to invite conversation. At last one bold young man stopped, and Jin-Li spoke quickly. “Good afternoon, kir. Hot day, isn’t it?”

“It is,” the miner said. “It always is. Do you need directions?”

“No, I’ve made my delivery,” Jin-Li said quickly. “I was just having a meal. Delta Team runs nice and tight, doesn’t it?”

The miner grinned. “So far,” he said. He looked about to walk on, but Jin-Li stepped closer to him, and he stopped politely.

“Any chance of a glass of water?” Jin-Li asked.

The young man waved toward a long, low building just behind them. “Sure,” he said generously. “Come with me.”

Jin-Li stowed the remains of the lunch back in the cart and followed the miner. One or two of the other Delta Team miners looked at them curiously as the first one led the way into the noisy coolness of what turned out to be a crowded cafeteria. Tables ranged along one side with large pots and piles of bowls. Trays of fruit waited on other tables already set with napkins and flatware. The miners on lunch shift were serving themselves. The only significant difference between this room and the Port Force meal hall was the lack of a reader.

Jin-Li’s new friend walked to a cart holding carafes of water, and picked up a glass from a neat rack. “Thank you, kir,” Jin-Li said, drinking with honest thirst. The day was, as the miner said, hot as always. “Am I keeping you from your work?”The miner grinned again, looking very young indeed. “Yes!” he said with a laugh. “But it will still be there.”

“What’s your job?” Jin-Li asked.

The young man stood a bit taller, and he spoke with pride. “I’m the aide to my squad leader. I act as courier between Beta Gamma squad, down in the tunnels, and the team leader’s office.”

A pair of young men came up. They stood by the table, pouring glasses of water, their eyes on Jin-Li. Jin-Li smiled and nodded casually. Both immediately stepped closer.

“You’re Port Force?” one of them asked.

Jin-Li nodded. “Longshoreman.”

“From Earth,” the other one said wistfully. “I’d love to go to Earth.” Jin-Li chuckled. “You might be surprised by it. Earth’s crowded. And short of everything—air, water ...” Jin-Li gestured with the half-empty glass. “Food. Work.”

The miners looked at each other, and back at Jin-Li. “Women?” a daring one whispered. The others laughed, but they all watched Jin-Li closely for the answer.

Jin-Li smiled. “Depends where you are.”

“It might be worth it, for the women,” the daring one, a tall young man with black hair, said, and they all laughed again.

Jin-Li laughed too, drained the glass and refilled it, drawing out the moment.

The tall black-haired man pressed further. “Where are you from on Earth, kir? America?”

“No. Hong Kong. China. Other side of the planet.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding as if he knew exactly where that was.

Jin-Li drank a second glass of water, and put it in a tub of used ones. “Thanks for the drink. Listen, I have some discs of China, where I come from. Would you like to borrow them?”

The black-haired miner made a wry face, and the Beta Gamma aide said, “We don’t have readers here. Only tutors and offices have them. They have to come from Earth. Too expensive.”

“We don’t need them,” the third man said loyally. “Our duty is the mines.” “Yes, I know,” Jin-Li said quietly. “Well, I have a reader, a portable. It’s small, just for my deliveries, but if you come to my cart, 1 can show you the discs. Do you have time?”

The black-haired one laughed. “If we skip lunch!” The others joined in,nodding. Jin-Li looked around at the room full of men. No one seemed concerned about the men conversing with a Port Forceman, though several watched as they walked to the door.

The discs were the simplest of teaching discs, all that was available in the Port Force library about Hong Kong. In fact, Jin-Li had never viewed them, had brought them on an impulse.

The first one was a brief history of Hong Kong, beginning with geography, the many mountains, the islands, the rivers, the seacoast. One sentence covered the ancient British dependency, and then the narration swept on to describe Hong Kong’s current government, the shortage of schools, the famous banks, the abundance of people. The video swept over colorful flat-bottomed sampans in the harbor, white buildings towering behind them, the busy seaport backed by crowded tenements, the sleek cars of executives rolling by ragged children living in doorways. Jin-Li felt strangely defensive, saying quickly, “Of course, these are old. I brought them with me. Who knows what it looks like now?”

The Beta Gamma aide was caught by something else. “Your home was a dependency. Like Irustan,”

Jin-Li was about to give a glib answer, but caught the words back. “That’s right. Hundreds of years ago, Hong Kong was a dependency.”

“But not now.”

“No. Not for a long time.”

“So Irustan has a chance of independence.”

Jin-Li said, “I don’t know. Can Irustan survive without the ESC? Would it have survived on Earth? Wasn’t that why your people came here?”

The miner shook his head. “We don’t know enough,” he said. “Only what they teach us.”

“It’s better not to talk about it,” the loyal one put in. “Let’s see another disc.”

The second disc was a travelogue, bright scenes of Chinese festivals, temples, clean rural villages. The three young miners watched it avidly, commenting on everything, several times asking to rewind the disc and see something again. When it finished, they stood about in companionable silence.

After a few moments, Jin-Li ventured, “We heard the news at Port Force. Tough on all of you, losing your team leader.”

The aide responded solemnly, “You know about that?”

“There’s a big reader in our meal hall—on the wall.”

In a low tone, the miner said, “Is it true, then? About—about what he had?”

“Well, I’m only a longshoreman,” Jin-Li told him. “What do they say he had?”

The young men exchanged uneasy glances. The black-haired one answered, but without the insouciance of his earlier remarks. “They say he had the leptokis disease. But that can’t be true!”

“It is true!” one of the others exclaimed. “And those two directors, too! They all had it.”

“Maybe Team Leader Maris got it from Director IhMullah,” the aide said. “What?” Jin-Li asked. “Why would you say that?”

The man shrugged. “Maris was going to marry the director’s daughter,” he said. “Good bit of luck. But then the director died.” He laughed uneasily. “He missed his chance, I guess.”

“I guess,” Jin-Li managed to say.

“But the inhalation therapy ...” the black-haired miner said. “It’s supposed to prevent the disease!”

“And it does,” Jin-Li said, on firm ground now. “It does.”

“But then how did it happen?”

The loyal one put in, “We were all at the funeral. No one said why he died.”