Alien Eyes (19 page)

“Morning,” he said, voice pleasant.

He was very young, David thought. Not much older than Blond Crew and his bud.

Smed nodded to the Elaki. “Sir.”

David frowned. He flipped his ID. Again. “I have no idea what's up here.” David waved an arm. “I'm questioning these gentlemen on another matter entirely.”

“I see,” Smed said.

David smiled blandly. “If you'll excuse us?”

Smed ducked his head and headed toward the front entrance of the dorm. Dreamer looked at Donovan.

“He knows,” David said.

“Beg pardon?” Donovan was all smiles.

David scratched his cheek. “I understand you boys know Dahmi/Packer?”

“Packer?” Donovan frowned. “Yes, sir. We knew her. Is she—”

“Is she what?” David asked.

“Is she okay?”

“When's the last time you saw her?”

Donovan scratched behind his ear. “We saw her just before it happened. At the Wednesday night series. Right?”

The Elaki moved to one side. “That is the yes. She come most Wednesday-day night lecture.”

“You talk to her?” David asked.

“Dreamer, did she go over to Brownie's with us that time?”

“Yes. She go. She not eat, but she go. She stand near for the table most usual we talk.”

“What did you talk about?” David asked.

“The lecture,” Donovan said. “We're studying the Guardians. They're the—”

“I know who they are.” David smiled coldly. I live in the world, he thought.

“Professor Angel was one, back, you know, back when. On her planet. Did you know that?”

“How interesting. Tell me, did Dahmi seem upset that night? Nervous?”

Donovan folded his arms and shook his head, gaze steady. A nearly psychopathic liar, David decided. Not that he was necessarily lying right now.

“Not so you'd notice, no, sir. We just talked about the usual stuff. The lecture. And Professor Angel.”

“She excited,” the Elaki said.

Donovan looked at him.

“Hard for
you
to tell on Elaki,” Dreamer said. “You a nose talker.”

Donovan grinned. “And you're a goddamn bellybrain Elaki. Watch your mouth slit, or I'll leave you out in a storm.”

The Elaki turned his eye stalks to David. “She leave early.” He had relaxed as soon as David moved to the subject of Dahmi. “And three times she ask of me the hour of the day.”

“And that was unusual?”

“She have pouchlings. But not usual want the time so much. I think maybe some special thing Wednesday-day night.”

“Was she worried?” David asked.

The Elaki slid sideways. “I do not have the knowledge.”

“At the time, did it strike you that way? That she might be worried or afraid?”

“No, no. I think then she be excited. Have somewhere to go. That make her high up feel funny.”

High up feel funny? David frowned. Too bad String wasn't around to translate. But it didn't sound like Dahmi had run across whatever frightened her so badly she killed her pouchlings. It did sound like she had an appointment. He'd give a lot to know who with.

“Did she leave earlier than usual?” David asked.

Donovan frowned. “Not sure.”

“She leave,” Dreamer said.

“Do you know where she went?”

“Nope.”

“Do not.”

“Okay, then. Here's my card. If you think of anything, remember anything—”

“We'll give you a call,” Donovan said.

David turned away, then glanced back over his shoulder. “Either of you own a gun?”

“No.” Donovan smiled sweetly, and the sun glinted down on his close-cropped hair. “Guns make me nervous.”

“Not safe for Elaki,” Dreamer said.

David nodded. A small movement caught his eye, and he stared over Donovan's shoulder, getting a side-angle view of an Elaki who David thought, just for a moment, was String. The Elaki was smaller than usual, but thick, kind of ratty-looking.

The Elaki moved away, but David had the feeling he had been there awhile; that he had been watching.

THIRTY-ONE

David stared into the small ceramic bowl of hot and sour soup. Whatever it was that had surfaced looked amazingly like a deflated scrotum. He fished it up with his spoon.

Della leaned forward. “Mushroom, hon. Don' you want it?”

He held the spoon out and she took the mushroom between her small, white teeth, crunching delicately. She glanced sideways as she chewed, scouting Mel's plate.

David tipped back the brown bottle of Thai beer, finishing it off. There was an ancient cigarette burn in the red plastic tablecloth, two or three inches from his plate. He glanced at his watch. Angel's lecture was an hour away. He looked at Mel, who was frowning, then across at String, who had rice scattered down his scale front. He decided to go by himself.

“You talk to Rose?”

String cocked an eye prong. “But yes. She most willing to help. Unsure if pouchling problem. Say she will work it out.”

“Kendra can look after her sisters for a while,” David said.

A small dark man in a shirt and slacks rolled a metal cart to the table. He handed Mel a bowl of red sea curry, Della a plate of pepper steak, and David a plate of pad ka-prao. He set a stainless-steel bowl of sticky rice in the middle of the table, then looked at David.

“You need beer.” It wasn't a question, but David nodded his head. The man looked at Della. “Sweet sour sauce?”

“Yeah, hon.”

He looked at String. “Hot mustard.”

“What about me?” Mel asked.

“You fine.”

David helped himself to rice, then spooned chicken, onions, broccoli, and the intense brown sauce onto his plate. He bit into a thin, tender sliver of chicken and speared a strip of onion.

“Where's Pete?”

Della rolled her eyes and chewed a mouthful of rice. “He can't get those Elaki straight on their terminals. That little one, that Ash, his keeps screwing up. It won't accept his voice patterns.” She ate a baby corn cob from Mel's plate. “Hey, but there's a two-inch printout on your desk, Silver.”

“Of victim similarities?”

“Lot of it's background information. It's in the file, so you can scroll through if you want. But the graphs and comparisons—that's all in the printout.”

“Just give me the rundown. Cut to the chase.”

“Pete'll be disappointed.”

“I'll look at it later.”

The waiter took David's empty bottle and set a fresh beer on the right side of his plate.

“Okay. Similarities.” Della chewed a piece of steak, then wiped her mouth delicately with the corner of a napkin. “They all got some connection to Angel's group. Those Guardians.”

David raised his beer, then frowned and set it down. “What connection, exactly?”

“Well. Dahmi. She went to the lectures. Assuming she's part of it.”

“She's part of it,” David said. She was the key, if he could figure it out.

“Okay, and Arnold. He's actually doing research on the Izicho. Past and present. And he's on the faculty with
her
.”

“Angel.”

“Yeah. Assuming Arnold was the target—and the reason the McCallums got whacked. And the Elaki. He worked with Arnold. Some kind of student at the School of Diplomacy.”

Mel stabbed a large piece of shrimp a split second before Della got to it.

Della glanced over at David's plate. She fingered the collar of her shirt. “There's the other two. That Beston bunch. Whole Elaki chemaki and pouchling. Two of the Elaki males from the chemaki had direct connections to the Guardians. They were some kind of gofers for the organization. Like, you know, somebody who works in a political campaign.

“And that couple with the teenage girl and the … what you call them, Elaki exchange students? The girl and the Elaki attended lectures pretty regularly. Elaki were doing some research work on them.”

“You know what's funny about this?” Mel said.

David chewed a chunk of broccoli. “What?”

“I mean the victims. Not exactly movers and shakers there, in the organization. Know?”

Della leaned back in her chair. She sucked a piece of ice up from her glass, then pushed it into the pouch of her cheek. “Yeah. But if they'd gone after the big guys, we'd of been onto the political thing first off.”

“So?” Mel said.

“If they're trying to put the fear into people, then it makes sense.” David spooned brown sauce onto his rice. “The hard-liners aren't going to be scared off. And if you off them, you create instant martyrs. People get mad, and the organization flourishes. Plus, you get heat, because the big ones have the influence.”

Mel chewed another bite of shrimp. “If I were them, I'd go after Angel.”

Della shook her head. “Did you hear anything he just said?”

“Be worth it,” Mel said. “'Cause she's got a heck of influence. Best she gets out the way.”

“If you're looking for repression, and you go after the little people,” Della said, “then they get scared. They feel vulnerable. And you got no grass roots support.”

String waved a fin. “Angel too hard to get. Protection big. Still has Weid. Constant companion.”

“Weid?” Mel said.

“Elaki like a man/hench. Loyal companion guard the body. He be with her since early most days. They try to kill her, but Weid kill them.”

“Describe him,” David said.

“Umm. Small height—like human. Thick, for Elaki. Many scales missing patch. Bent up the eye prongs.”

David cocked his head sideways. Had Weid been the Elaki who was hanging around the dorm, watching him question Donovan and Dreamer?

String cocked an eye prong. “He has what you call the sexual aura.”

Mel waved his fork. “Ought to be able to spot him right off.” He swallowed. “But, you know, just out of curiosity, what is it exactly gives an Elaki his sexual aura?”

“Ah,” String said. “You see—”

David checked his watch. “Got a lecture.” He took one last drink of beer, wiped his mouth, and grabbed his jacket. Della was inching a fork toward his chicken before he'd pushed his chair in.

The waiter stopped him on the way out the door, offering a basket of fortune cookies. He took one from the bottom of the pile and broke it open as he went through the bead-covered door into the chill, black night. He crammed the broken cookie into his mouth and unraveled the white strip of paper. There was just enough light in the parking lot to read the fortune, printed in large black type.

WHAT BEGINS AS FLIRTATION COULD BECOME SERIOUS.

David tucked the fortune into his jacket pocket.

THIRTY-TWO

David stood in the balcony of the ward benden lecture hall. A draft of air came from his left, strong enough to ruffle his hair. He stayed back in the shadows, watching. The room beneath was warmly lit, the oak parquet floor waxed and gleaming, and the rows of folding chairs full. An Elaki, late and hurried, glided across the floor on his bottom fringe. David thought of ice skating.

The wall behind Angel Eyes was a bank of windows, floor to ceiling, and the night pressed close and black. David shivered, thinking of snipers. Angel stood before a microphone, her contralto voice enveloping her audience, most of whom were Elaki.

David leaned forward. Something or someone was moving, just outside the window. Someone with a light. Impossible to see much from inside. David watched, muscles tensing, as the pinpoint came closer. The light moved close to the door and disappeared. The door opened quietly, and an Elaki slid in.

Weid. David smiled with the side of his mouth, wondering about Elaki sexual auras.

The audience didn't notice Weid. There were few fidgets, none of the humans coughed, no one whispered or left early. David could not distinguish the words, but he was affected by the rhythm of speech, the cadences that were alternately soothing and invigorating.

Then it stopped. There was a silence, then the humans applauded, self-consciously. Chairs scraped the floor. One human (One
human
? David asked himself) moved hesitantly toward Angel, but was swept aside as three Elaki slid across the polished parquet floor.

Weid appeared behind Angel. David saw Angel move sideways and lift a fin. Weid moved back and away.

Know each other well, David thought.

He turned and went down the stairs. Elaki were leaving, others talking in groups. The Elaki were tall, making it hard for David to see.

A large noisy group was forming, and David saw Donovan and Dreamer. He moved to one side to watch. Angel Eyes was still talking to a steady stream of Elaki, though she was inching toward the door. She moved sideways, then stopped when she saw him.

Her eye stalks slanted in his direction, and the conversation stopped. The knot of Elaki encircling her turned and looked. For a moment it seemed that the room grew silent, though he later decided it had only seemed that way. His face felt warm. He folded his arms. He was aware that Weid had spotted him, and was studying.

The door opened and closed loudly, breaking the silence. There was movement from the left. An Elaki came quickly, rudely, through the crowd. She was intent on Angel Eyes, who seemed not to see the approach and was making her way to David.

Angel lifted a fin and David moved forward.

“No popcorn tonight?” There was something in her voice that sounded like a laugh.

David smiled. “I'd have brought some, if I'd known you were hungry.”

“I
am
hungry. But I would guess you have the questions?”

David saw a flurry of movement to his left. The Elaki who had pushed so rudely through the crowd was almost upon them. Her pouches were loose. A Mother-One.

The Elaki stopped. David looked back, wondering why, after being so forceful, she did not come close. She turned her back, and threaded her way into the crowd. David frowned. She had seemed familiar.