The Adventures of Deacon Coombs (36 page)

Deacon had no opportunity to be alone with Lyanna anymore. The time for departure was near. The controls were placed on automatic and they crowded into the shuttle with their data. Then, they fell into free fall as they plunged instantaneously into cloud cover with a primitive force field to shield them. A hasty, uncomfortable drop to Earth’s surface was in order to make maximum use of their time before the
Heritage
docked in two days, so the capsule turned end over end, causing Deacon to feel his stomach rise into his chest as the tiny shuttle heated up by more than twenty degrees.

The smile on Quobit’s face told Deacon how much she was enjoying this ride.

In Ketapongo

The free fall prompted screams from Lyanna as if she were on a precipitous descent on the roller-coaster rides of yore. Soon, they leveled out and followed a smooth trajectory through light cloud cover. In an hour they were at a small, quiet hangar station on the outskirts of the thriving metropolis. A class-one priority from Bothwen gave them private access with no questions asked by the immigration officials. Deacon placed some strong suggestions in the minds of the guards to further their cause. While Deacon, Quobit, and Lyanna stayed out of sight, the Owlers completed the necessary paperwork to allow them entry to Earth.

Meanwhile, the apparently disabled
Heritage
orbited the Earth, regularly transmitting a staticky prerecorded message of its mechanical problems. Gem and Jim had programmed the computer to provide all the physical characteristics of the two Owlers and three humans on board, should the
Heritage
be scanned.

A gorgeous, cloudless sunny day greeted the pentad back on Earth, all of whom had taken up residence at an ancient rustic inn on the edge of the metropolis of Ketapongo. Deacon, with Jim standing in bewilderment, sat on his knees and then proceeded to kiss Mother Earth. Lyanna laughed and then repeated the ritual. Jim was puzzled. “Why anyone would want to come in contact with that dirt?” Quobit laughed. Hand in hand, Deacon and Lyanna walked the first mile through narrow, tree-lined streets, the Owlers only steps behind, Quobit in front, until Quobit and Gem boarded a taxi boat to take them upstream to the municipal offices. Deacon stood watching until the launch disappeared around a bend, and then he addressed Lyanna. “We will rendezvous back here. Signal you when we arrive.”

After curt good-byes, Deacon departed with Jim to the heart of the interplanetary space port.

The
Heritage
kept anxious officials at bay with regular transmissions and simulated heartbeats and life functions. Schlegar sent his message to Landrew that Deacon Coombs had journeyed into the forbidden zone of Nix with Travers and had actually interfaced with a powerful evil being capable of brainwashing the human species. Schlegar’s message was so blunt and frightening that Landrew immediately conferred with Schlegar by space video to obtain more details. This conversation prompted Landrew to prepare a hero’s return but also precipitated an immediate investigation by security forces into the entire matter. Landrew wanted every minute of the
Heritage
’s travel log scrutinized for his personal edification. Landrew’s anxiety to welcome Coombs grew.

In the streets of Ketapongo, Jim briefed Deacon. “Ketapongo spews out over the entire island, fifty-five million people in the city and millions more on the outskirts, its inhabitants barely coping with the scarcity of food, fuel, and land. Animals are used for short travels to keep the pollution under control. There are few personal motorized vehicles in the middle of the city. One must leave motor vehicles on the perimeter and travel inland by waterway, or by vehicle with a permit.”

Beggars hailed them, cripples lined the streets, and tempting females hugged the corners, soliciting a lonely man’s company. Space crews wore the proud colors of the homelands as they patrolled the streets in search of company, good food, drink, or perhaps stakes in illegal gambling games. Some just searched for familiar faces to partake in conversation about the homeland.

The center of the port bore the scars of age. A dirty white discoloration disguised the index boards in front of government buildings, while dusty glass prevented a clear look inside any of the structures’ windows. Jim rented a small air-powered vehicle to hasten their travels to the space traders’ center and parked the vehicle in a guarded alley. Deacon was amazed at Jim’s adept driving skills as they wove among the throngs. They entered the registrar’s office and inhaled the stale, papery air of thousands of years. A flash of their credentials, with Deacon as Bothwen, gave them instant access to the space records that they required, so Deacon and Jim retreated to a private stall and commenced their investigation.

“Here it is, Jim. Look. The
C’oulbaa
unloaded weeks ago. She remains without cargo and is detained because of mechanical repairs of valves in the rocket engines. How bloody convenient!”

The list of repairs made to the ship was lengthy. Then he saw it! “Jim, the
C’oulbaa
is departing tomorrow! But without Chubby Eaves! A different captain has been assigned. That means that Chubby has not completed his mission here. This is our good fortune. Jim, I need to secure the list of all the crew members on board the
C’oulbaa
immediately. Make sure and absolutely confirm that Chubby is not on board in a lesser role, even as a passenger.” Jim retreated to another room to verify the crew and contents on the
C’oulbaa
. Deacon read on.

The ship had a full load of chemicals bound for Aralia. Then he saw an attachment. Using his Bothwen identity, he opened it, and his confusion was addressed. Chubby Eaves had been instructed to remain behind by orders of the trade union. He was to take the trade ship
G’uillger
, which would be arriving in two days, and guide her to a destination to be disclosed once in space. The communication justified that the mission required an experienced commander for a risky, secretive mission. Deacon thought,
Two
days
to
find
Chubby
and
Chuen.

Deacon smiled, leaned back, and was elated. Chubby Eaves was still in Ketapongo. The
G’uillger
had a clandestine mission, and they had two days to locate him.
Secret
mission.
Ha.
Intuition told him that the
G’uillger
was connected to the misdeeds of Urzel. Then he read it again, aloud this time. “Instructions of the Union of Space Traders.” It had to be Chubby who had crafted these orders. He and Jim would be the only ones in this metropolis, or on Earth, to suspect any wrongdoing.

Jim returned gleeful. “Deacon, I have confirmed that Chubby Eaves is not on the ship.”

“Yes, I know. I have confirmed that he is taking charge of the
G’uillger
in two days. We must move quickly to locate him.”

“Furthermore, Master, all interplanetary traders must register their place of residence while residing in Ketapongo. Look, Master Deacon, what I found for you. Chubby Eaves is registered at an inn nearby until the day of his departure.”

Deacon checked the address. It was a difficult walk, but better reachable on foot than by vehicle because of the congested streets. So they left the vehicle behind and began brushing against businessmen, rogues, hustlers, and vendors, smothered by the mobs of people in the streets of the port. Deacon walked uneasily but confidently with Jim two steps ahead of him. He kept a low profile with his head bowed and his eyes constantly shifting to and fro to catch a glimpse of anyone following them.

When they arrived at the inn, they were disappointed. “Not here,” said the innkeeper with a snarl. “Bin gone ’bout one day. Belongings are still upstairs. What you want with Eaves?”

Deacon passed a few sheckels to the burly clerk to gain entry to the room. Jim protested, but Deacon recalled the usual speech about the safety of the population of the galaxy and billions of lives depending on them. Jim reluctantly stood guard outside as Deacon searched Chubby’s room.

It was neat, with everything in place, and sparsely decorated. It confirmed what the innkeeper had said—that Chubby had not slept there in days. Deacon rifled through his belongings but found no clues as to where the trader had vanished to. His clothes were hung in the closet; all the drawers were empty. Then he found a note. It appeared to be from a colleague who desired to share dinner with Chubby in six days. There was no date, so he could not tell what day this dinner was scheduled for. The rest of the search proved fruitless. On departing, he gave thanks and then asked the innkeeper about the time of delivery of the note.

“Don’t know. Don’t remember. Done enough for you. None of your bidness.” They left to randomly travel by a hand-drawn carriage through narrow streets up the hillside to market shops. Weaving amid the carts and the burros, Deacon purchased local culinary delights, and then they returned to the rented air sled and traversed back to the inn that had been secured by Lyanna. By the smile on her face as Deacon entered their suite, he knew that a clue had been unearthed. Lyanna was brimming with news.

“Quobit and Gem found Kam Chuen.”

Deacon gave Quobit a hug. Quobit said, “That is Dr. Kam Chuen. He is a rather well known compulsive detective who specializes in missing persons. He is seventy years old, retired recently, lives in a northern part of the city, and keeps a low profile.”

Gem handed Deacon some further notes with the information. “He has an unquenchable thirst for high-grade opium and quella. Here”—Gem pointed to a stack of papers on the desk—“are clippings from the local news media that cite some of his more memorable cases.”

“And his journeys to Medulla?”

Quobit beamed. “All accounted for conveniently as sabbaticals. Vacations.”

“Since when do compulsive detectives take expensive Vespering vacations?”

“And when would any Earthman want to journey to the hostile planet of Medulla for a relaxing vacation?”

Lyanna pointed her finger at Deacon. “Don’t knock it, Quobit. Deacon’s trip to Nix will be recorded in history someday as nothing more than a sabbatical accompanied by a female Jabu Vesperer.” They shared in laughter.

Quobit continued. “Here is what is even more interesting, Deacon. Dr. Chuen has led a full life, traveled extensively all over Earth. The singular trips abroad off Earth were to Medulla. In his interviews, he says he has no regrets. The interviewer describes him as grumpy.”

“Where do we find him?”

Gem unfolded a map, and they gathered around it. “The neighborhood where he dwells is here. It is a great distance from our quarters, but he frequents one of three opium dens every night. These dens are closer to us.”

Lyanna then said, “It might be best to find him on leisurely terms rather than intrude at his home.”

Deacon was tired. However, this was an opportunity not to default on. He made a decision. “Jim and I and Quobit will venture to these pits tonight, as long as I don’t have to sample the goodies. In these neighborhoods, I figure that two security guards are required.”

Quobit nodded. “I agree. Gem and I passed through the neighborhood of these opium dens earlier. That’s where we aggregated intimate personal details of Dr. Chuen for the right price. We found out that he keeps dangerous company, loves to flirt with the ladies and chat with spacers, and has a passion for playing Vidal Challenge. There was an inference that he associates with the disreputable element who have imparted leads to break his cases.”

“You found out all this from gossipers.”

Gem spoke up. “The lady Quobit can be rather persuasive, Master.”

“Ooh, a hidden sexy side, eh, Q?” said Deacon.

“She even introduced herself as Bitsy to one Jabu trader.”

Quobit waved her arms. “Dr. Chuen is a big spender, so I suggest you line your pockets with dockets. The information you seek may not be dispensed freely, and he will seek to cover his expensive habits of gambling and drugs.”

“We have all earned our pay today,” said Deacon.

“How about your trek?” asked Quobit.

“Jim and I discovered that Chubby Eaves is still in Ketapongo. We located the inn where he is residing, but he is absent. Gem, I want you to go there immediately and act as sentry. On this map, the inn should be, ah… here. It is called the Wendovian. When Chubby appears, remove him, forcibly if you have to, but deliver him back here to our inn for questioning. I suggest you take some of the medicine that you used to knock us into a deep sleep. Chubby must be brought back.” He turned to look at Lyanna. “You, my dear, will have to mind our base camp alone tonight. Keep it locked up. I’m sorry, but it could be a long, lonely night for you. The rendezvous with Chuen could carry past the midnight hour. Jim, Quobit—excuse me, Bitsy—and I will stay out all night until we find him, even if that means until daybreak.”

Kam Chuen

After a quiet meal in which Deacon and Lyanna exchanged frequent glances, good-byes were in order as Deacon, Quobit, and Jim swiftly traveled down moss-laden streets, wandering amid the first signs of the nightlife, deflecting derelicts. They arrived shortly at the first den of Chuen’s liking. Chuen had frequented that one recently, so the owner was not expecting him back soon since he made it a habit to sample other drug dens. The host confirmed four other locations.

By the time darkness arrived, Chuen had not appeared at the nearby second bar. After two misses, Jim stood sentry at the third site while Deacon, his stun laser concealed under his vest, ventured down slippery steps into a dank basement of a smoky opium pit where a crowd of approximately thirty had gathered. Quobit followed furtively and sat at the end of the bar.

Putrid orange-and-yellow clouds filled the dungeon, the stains of innumerable years grossly marking the walls and ceiling. Deacon’s eyes commenced to water as he wandered through the decrepit chamber of posts and small tables and fire pits, shuffling across a dirt floor, looking for any signs of an aging Asiandan. From the description they had, Chuen had a long gray beard and pony tail. In one corner, Deacon disturbed a group of ill-mannered husky traders sharing crude jokes. Behind a bar, a thin, withered bartender with a long gray beard eyed him suspiciously.