A Gathering of Widowmakers (The Widowmaker #4) (24 page)

BOOK: A Gathering of Widowmakers (The Widowmaker #4)
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Kinoshita got up, stopped by the galley for a beer, and carted it off to his cabin with him.

"I'm trying to think the way you do, Jefferson," said Jeff. "It's just not coming easy. I work at it and work at it, and then you point out what I'm missing and I feel like such a fool."

"It's just a matter of practice," replied Nighthawk. "In case you don't remember, Kinoshita beat the shit out of you the first couple of weeks he worked with you on your martial arts. Today you could kill him in three seconds."

"I remember."

"How did you feel about it then?"

"Like I'd never be able to hold my own against him."

Nighthawk smiled. "You see?"

"Maybe I should have traveled with Jason for a year or so when I first started, until I learned to think properly," said Jeff.

"It wouldn't have worked," said Nighthawk. "He was busy not being the Widowmaker."

"How can he have these skills and not want to put them to use?"

"I'm sure he puts them to use all the time," said Nighthawk. "He was protecting Jubal Pickett when you came face to face with him, remember? He just doesn't want to do it as a Jefferson Nighthawk."

"I don't know why not," said Jeff. "It never bothered me."

"That's because despite your name and your DNA, you're your own man. Jason was literally me—born with my memories, my experiences, my reactions. I don't think it bothered him while I was frozen, but once he knew I was going to be awakened and cured, he didn't want to just be a copy of the Widowmaker—so he kept the skills, but he lost the name and the face." He paused. "He kept me alive at enormous personal cost. I owe him everything I've got, including his privacy and his own identity. And now," he added, "I owe him my best efforts to keep him alive. After all, he did the same for me five years ago."

"He put together an interesting crew back on Sylene IV, didn't he?" said Jeff. "Kinoshita tells me it was mostly aliens."

"So I hear."

"That Friday is a cold son of a bitch."

"He must have been pretty good with those explosives," said Nighthawk.

"I'm surprised Jason put up with him."

"When you're overthrowing a tyrant whose support outnumbers yours thousands to one, you use the weapons you have. Friday was what Jason had."

"I wonder why he didn't try to kill Jason?" said Jeff. "He seems to hate all Men."

"It makes sense when you think about it," answered Nighthawk. "Why kill the one man who could lead him to multitudes of human targets?" He paused and looked at Jason. "But you're asking the wrong question."

"What's the right one?"

"When we were back on Giancola, you left to find out what you could about Pallas Athene's whereabouts, and you can back empty-handed."

"Yes, I did."

"Well, then?" said Nighthawk. "The question presents itself."

"Of course!" exclaimed Jeff suddenly. "If I couldn't find anything on her, how come Friday knew where she was?"

"You see?" said Nighthawk. "It's not that hard when you get the hang of it."

"Okay, that's the question," said Jeff. "But I don't know the answer to it."

"Sure you do," said Nighthawk. "Sometimes half the trick is knowing the right question. Let's see if we can't dope this out while Kinoshita is talking to the Oligarchy."

"All right," said Jeff. He considered the question. "Either Friday kept in constant contact with her, or he didn't. Since he hates humans, we can assume they weren't friends and rarely if ever saw or communicated with each other. Am I right?"

"Probably. Keep going."

Jeff thought for a moment, then looked up with a troubled expression on his face. "Damn! You knew all along, didn't you, Jefferson?"

"Knew what?"

"That there's a good chance we're not going to find Jason or Pallas Athene on Bollander III."

"That's right," said Nighthawk. "We're going through the motions because so far we're operating on minimal information of questionable value. Jason received her message, so
he
knows where she is—"

"But there's a good chance that Friday was wrong even if he thought he was telling the truth," interjected Jeff.

Nighthawk nodded his agreement. "If Friday wasn't in contact with Pallas Athene—and that's a logical assumption—there are only two ways he could know she was on Bollander III. Either he and she both stayed on Pericles or Sylene long enough for him to learn her new name so that he could trace her through Passport Control, or else he managed to track her down with no more information that we have—and since you couldn't come up with anything at all on her, I think it makes sense that he couldn't either."

"Then why are we going to Bollander III?" asked Jeff.

"She
might
be there," said Nighthawk. "There's always a chance she decided to stay put for a few years. But it's more likely that someone there will know where she went next."

"And in the meantime, Jason Newman gets farther and farther ahead of us," muttered Jeff.

"He won't do anything stupid," said Nighthawk. "I just hope that's enough to keep him alive."

"He's two days out of major abdominal surgery," said Jeff. "He could burst open just from the pressure of his ship's braking mechanism."

Nighthawk shrugged. "Anything's possible."

"You sound like someone who doesn't give a damn, Jefferson."

"No," Nighthawk corrected him. "I sound like someone who isn't going to waste time worrying about a situation that he can't change or control. When Kinoshita comes out of his cabin, maybe we'll have a situation we
can
do something about."

They fell silent then, each lost in his own thoughts, until Kinoshita emerged almost an hour later, a puzzled look on his face.

"What did you find out?" asked Jeff anxiously.

"I'm not sure," said Kinoshita. "It's very strange."

"Obviously someone knew
something
about the Younger Brothers," said Nighthawk.

"The one thing everyone agrees upon is that they really are brothers, as identical as Jeff and the first clone," said Kinoshita. "They appear human, but no one knows for sure if they are. And they're very efficient killers."

"Then what's so puzzling?" asked Jeff.

"There's something more, isn't there?" said Nighthawk.

Kinoshita nodded. "Beta Campanis III says there are three Younger Brothers, all identical, like I said."

A grim smile crossed Nighthawk's face. "I can see this one coming."

"Greenbriar says there are seven brothers," continued Kinoshita. "Silverbright II claims there are six."

"Get to the kicker," said Nighthawk.

"Benitarus IV says there are more than six hundred of them, and they've got security holos of them to prove it."

27.

They knew something was wrong the moment they touched down and entered the Bollander III spaceport.

Their weapons didn't set off any alarms. The security cameras had been melted, and there were half a dozen armed guards posted around the place.

Nighthawk approached the robot that was in charge of the Customs desk. One of its prismatic eyes was missing, and only a charred hole remained.

"Good day, sir," said the robot with a distinct lisp. "Welcome to Bollander III."

"What the hell happened here?" asked Nighthawk.

"There was a disturbance yesterday," said the robot. "It will not interfere with your stay on beautiful Bollander III, sir."

"What happened to you eye?"

"An unfortunate incident, sir, which need not concern you. I assure you that I am fully capable of servicing you with my one remaining eye."

"Someone burned it out."

"I cannot feel pain, sir."

"I offered an observation, not sympathy," said Nighthawk.

"I apologize, sir."

"You're also the first robot I've ever met who has a speech defect."

"The result of a full-force blast by a sonic pistol, sir."

"From the same man?"

"Yes, sir," replied the robot. "Welcome to Bollander III. May I help you now?"

"What did you do to get him so mad at you?"

"That may be privileged information, sir."

Nighthawk pulled out his bounty hunter's license and showed it to the robot. "I think the man who injured you may be the man I am trying to bring to justice. You will be breaking no law or confidence if you tell me what transpired."

"A man landed his ship and entered the spaceport yesterday, sir," said the robot. "He was carrying a laser pistol, a pulse gun, a sonic pistol, two knives, and a small hand-weapon of undetermined properties. Of course the alarm sounded, and I explained that he would not be allowed to pass through the spaceport until he relinquished his weapons. He refused."

"Then what?"

"I explained that the sensors also detected that he was bleeding beneath his tunic, and that even if he disarmed himself he would not be allowed access to Bollander III until he could produce medical documentation that he was not contagious."

"He refused, of course?"

"Yes, sir." A brief pause. "Welcome to Bollander III. How may I help you?"

"You can tell me what happened after the man refused to relinquish his weapons or offer you the medical documentation that you requested."

"I explained that he would have to wait while I contacted my human superior, sir. He replied that he had no time to wait, and began to walk through Customs. Naturally I positioned myself in such a way that he could not pass. He then pulled out a laser pistol and shot me in my left eye. When that had no effect upon me other than to limit my depth perception, he withdrew his sonic pistol and fired it at me from a distance of eleven feet eight inches. This disrupted my circuitry, and I fell backward to the floor. Before I could get up he had disabled all of the sensors and cameras with his weapons. I had of course signaled for help when he disabled my eye, and security personnel arrived shortly thereafter."

"Poor bastards," muttered Kinoshita.

"Welcome to Bollander III," said the robot to Kinoshita. "May I help you, sir?"

"Later," said Nighthawk. "Did the man kill any spaceport personnel?"

"No, sir. He disarmed the first two to arrive with a remarkable display of marksmanship, then warned the others to drop their weapons and leave or he would kill them."

"And?"

"They disarmed themselves and left. He passed through the spaceport two minutes and seven seconds later. The police have not yet apprehended him."

"If they're lucky, they won't," replied Nighthawk. "Aren't you going to welcome me to Bollander III and give me a twenty-four-hour visa?"

"Yes, sir," said the robot. "Welcome to—"

"Here's my passport," interrupted Nighthawk, handing over the small disk.

The robot cleared him in less than a minute, then did the same for Jeff and Kinoshita.

"Robot, I have another question before we leave," said Nighthawk.

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm here to visit an old friend who sometime uses the name of Pallas Athene. Can you tell me how to find her?"

"There is a vidphone directory on the west wall, sir."

"That won't work," said Nighthawk. "My computer couldn't find her, and if she was listed in a directory it would have been able to."

"Then I am unable to help you, sir."

"Don't be so sure of that," said Nighthawk. "How long have you been in operation?"

"Nine years, sir."

"Has your memory been affected by the screecher?"

"'Screecher', sir?" asked the robot.

"Sonic pistol."

"No, sir. My memory is intact."

"Then search through it and tell me if anyone who has been a resident of Sylene IV at any time in the past has cleared Customs on Bollander III in the past five years," said Nighthawk.

"Searching . . . yes, sir."

"How many?"

"Just one."

"A woman?" asked Nighthawk.

"Yes, sir."

"What was her name?"

"Helen of Troy, sir."

"How can I contact her?"

"There is a vidphone directory on the west wall of the spaceport lobby, sir."

"Thank you, robot," said Nighthawk. "I hope you feel better soon."

"I cannot feel pain, sir," said the robot as the three men walked off toward the directory.

"Son of a bitch!" muttered Jeff. "Friday was telling us the truth after all!"

"What the hell kind of siege can the planet be under?" asked Kinoshita as the approached the directory screen. "I mean, hell, three days out of surgery and bleeding from his exertion, Jason's done more discernable damage to Bollander than a gang of six hundred aliens."

"Never forget that they're aliens," said Nighthawk. "Until we learn more about them, we can't know what they want, what they're like, what they're capable of."

"Or how to kill them," added Jeff.

"Hopefully Jason will have figured it out by the time we catch up with him," said Nighthawk.

"Unless they figure out how to kill him first," said Jeff.

They reached the directory and scanned it. There was no Helen of Troy and no Pallas Athene.

"Great," said Kinoshita. "The robot was wrong. She's not on Bollander."

"She's here," said Nighthawk.

"What makes you so certain?" demanded Kinoshita.

"Tell him, Jeff."

"Because Jason's still on the planet," said Jeff. "We had to discover where she was, but she called Jason and asked for his help.
He
knew exactly where to go." He paused. "So we know we're on the right world. But I'll be damned if I know what our next step is."

"If they make him mad enough, we could just follow the trail of bodies," said Nighthawk with a wry smile.

"Seriously, Jefferson," said Jeff, "what do we do now?"

"Seriously, Jeff, use your brain," said Nighthawk.

Jeff looked blank. "I don't know—go to the usual places, the bars and drug dens and the like, and see what information we can pick up?"

Nighthawk shook his head. "This world's got a population of a couple of million. There might be two hundred bars, and fifty or sixty drug dens—and we've got a weakened Widowmaker preparing to go up against a gang that is so lethal that the toughest lady Kinoshita ever met felt it was necessary to enlist his help."

BOOK: A Gathering of Widowmakers (The Widowmaker #4)
10.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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