Marque and Reprisal by Elizabeth Moon Read Free Book Online Page A

was scary,” Ky said, through another pastry, this one meat-filled. She felt better with every bite.
    “I can’t understand why anyone would attack ansible platforms,” Carla said. “It only makes ISC angry, and Parin always says they’re the glue that holds the galaxy together.”
    Ky, her mouth full, nodded but said nothing.
    “And you were captured by mercenaries, the news report said.”
    “Yes,” Ky said, wiping her mouth. “But they were polite mercenaries.” When they weren’t almost killing her, but that had been an accident.
    “Did you really kill the ringleaders?” Carla asked.
    “Yes,” Ky said. “And I suspect that’s why someone’s trying to kill me, in retaliation.” She decided that one more pastry wouldn’t hurt and picked one up.
    “I can tell you’re feeling better,” Carla said. “More color in your cheeks. The clothes you had on have been freshened, if you feel able to get up now.”
    “Yes,” Ky said. “I do… but I’d still like to know what happened. Did I just… faint?”
    “A contact poison,” Carla said, with the satisfied tone of someone who knows something unusual. “That policeman with you fell over like a cut tree while the consul was in the room; you were pale and turning gray, Parin said.”
    “A contact poison! On top of the shooting?”
    “Yes. They didn’t leave much to chance, is the way the consul put it. It penetrated ordinary gloves as if they weren’t there.” Ky remembered, now, the policeman pulling open drawers, lifting the sheets of the bed, touching this surface and that. “Then they found the bedspread bundled into a trash container, and the poison was all over that. Three of them are down with it. You only sat on the bed—the poison didn’t penetrate your clothes that well. The antidote worked quickly; you were only unconscious a couple of hours. The doctor’s off working on the others.”
    “So… did they catch the assassins?”
    “No. They’re searching, of course, but except for the one you shot, the gang’s all disappeared.”
    “Is my ship all right? My crew? Has anything else happened up there?”
    “They’re fine,” Carla said. “No attacks up there at all, and shuttle travel’s been suspended, so no assassination teams can get there from here. There’s a com console in my sitting room, just outside here. Then there’s a policeman who would like to speak to you; he has assured the consul that they have no more interest in arresting you. When their people went down from the contact poison, they decided that your having shot one of the assassins wasn’t so bad after all.”
    “I need to check with the ship. Can you hold the policeman off that long?”
    “Of course,” Carla said. “This is Slotter Key territory, after all.” She winked. “Take your time getting dressed—through that door there.”
    Quincy, predictably, was appalled at what had happened, and worried, and wanted Ky to come back immediately.
    “I’m safe here,” Ky said. “I’m not going out, I promise. They’ve suspended shuttle flights, you know.”
    “Yes, but for you—can’t you get a charter?”
    “Probably not, not until tomorrow anyway. Are you satisfied with the police guard on our dockside?”
    “They’ve doubled it,” Quincy said. “I think we’re secure. But you—”
    “I’m fine,” Ky said again. “I got hold of Vatta headquarters before this happened…” Should she tell Quincy everything, or would it just make it worse? “There does appear to be a general threat; I’ll give you the details when I’m back on the ship. And if I’m stuck down here for days, I might as well see what I can do about cargo.”
    “Cargo! There’s your life to consider! Don’t you dare go out!”
    “I won’t go out. I can do business from here; the consul’s helping me arrange things. I won’t say don’t worry, but don’t lose sleep.”
    Quincy sniffed and signed off.
     
    The policeman who interviewed Ky had the same dour