we have a Chairman
Pro Tem right now, seeing how the Chairman was knifed in his own
office by a Clutch turtle."
Daav leaned forward a bit, cocking his head
to one side in respectful query.
"Me too! Not what somebody'd expect. A bomb
maybe, poison, even just a quiet step-down 'cause somebody had the
best of him after all--but no. A pair of Clutch turtles waltzed
into his office, had an argument with him, and took him out."
The man's gaze had strayed to his desktop;
he looked up, frowning.
"The official thing is--straight from Chair
Pro Tem!--that there was a busted deal, resulting from a
misunderstanding, and that the former Chairman had made the mistake
of threatening a T'carais with a shell-buster."
"With the result that, in defense of his or
her superior, a minion used a knife," Daav murmured into the short
silence.
The boss looked impressed, but Daav
continued. "Perhaps better for all concerned: Most turtles would
merely have bitten his head off, or crushed his spine..."
The boss blanched, but waved a hand and went
on.
"Yeah, well, could have been. Unofficial
news is that this turtle crew had come to visit twice; got
themselves locked into the Chairman's office and cut their way out
through the blast wall with a knife after busting about a thousand
gems, and then he had the nerve to try a fast one. Apparently these
turtles are the knife clan or something--famous. And by the time
the blood's cleaned up, the Chairman Pro Tem finds out the fuss is
all about two people."
"That would be the individuals mentioned in
the whisper for all worlds..." Daav suggested.
The boss smiled wanly.
"Yes, that's them. The turtles--this is
official!--claim them to be 'a brother and sister of the Spear
maker's Den' who must be returned unharmed or self-declared free
and safe."
Daav looked into the ceiling, momentarily
lost in thought. When he looked back, the boss was reaching into a
desk drawer for a candy.
"What, may I ask, is the or?"
The boss looked grim.
"The or is that if they don't turn up safe
the Juntavas will be wiped out, starting at the top. This is a
promise."
Daav leaned forward, raised his hand to his
chin and rubbed it thoughtfully.
"This is," he said after a moment, "a very,
very serious problem. No one has ever heard of a Clutch turtle
lying. certainly no one has ever heard of a Clutch turtle or clan
breaking a promise. Even I might not be able to hide well enough if
the Clutch knew me for an enemy."
The boss snorted again, apparently
swallowing his candy whole.
"Right. And so what I have going on,
starting about the time you walk out the front door here, is a
block-by-block search of every Juntavas holding on Delgado, looking
for two of the damnedest trouble-makers you've ever heard of."
Daav, very interested, waved his hand,
asking for more information.
"Yeah, OK. One is a First-In Scout
Commander! Good, right? Get in the face of somebody who can talk
Clutch to the Clutch and just happens to have saved one from a
dragon. You know, a nobody, a pushover. Then the other one is a
Merc-turned-bodyguard, lived through Klamath and got on--and
off!--Cloud."
Daav let out a low whistle. "Do you know how
many people lived through Klamath?"
The boss shrugged, tapped his desk. "That's
probably in my notes. I got more notes than you can stuff in a
garbage can already about this." He broke, searched his desktop,
pulled up a flimsy image-flat, and flipped it, casually and quite
accurately, to the man in the chair.
Daav listened with half-an-ear as the boss
went on--the while eyes measured the photos of his son and his
son's companion.
"Getting off Klamath earns you a lifetime
'I'm tough' badge or something. But--this is where we come
in--these two started a firefight, in broad daylight, I
guess!--between the local Juntavas and the city police in Econsey,
back there on Lufkit, just to cover their getaway after they robbed
the boyfriend of the local boss' daughter. Then, they managed to
get off-planet while the place
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