The Ramal Extraction (31 page)

“Gotta love smart women,” he said.

“Talk is cheap, old man.”

“Yeah it is. Lie back and be amazed, young woman.”

“This is what the manor looks like,” Formentara said.

The image on the projection had a scale across the bottom of the image.

“Crap, it’s a monster.”

“Yes. Fifteen thousand square meters in the main house,” Formentara said. “Thirty-six sleeping chambers, each with its own toilet and shower. Living, dining, recreation, kitchens, you could house a small army there. Four hoppers, twenty small ground vehicles. Staff of forty domestics housed in the servants’ quarters, plus eighteen live-in guards, all the bells and whistles a rich woman’s castle needs. Spends a million-plus a year on upkeep.

“Udiva lives and loves large,” Formentara continued. “She has parties that sometimes turn into weeklong orgies, and she’s the largest consumer of dopesmoke and exotic liquor in that part of the country.”

“How do we get to talk to her?” Gunny asked. “Ah’m guessing we don’t just kick in the door?”

“Nope,” Cutter said. “Her guards are first-class pros, and the place is wired tight enough to detect a mosquito fart. Plus she’s got the local police and military ready to hop when she says ‘Jump.’ We maybe could set it up that way, but it would take a while.

“However, as it happens, Fem Udiva is having one of her bashes in a few days. The Rajah has a standing invitation. If he were to show up with some new attendants…”

Jo said, “Why spend time and energy trying to crack a locked door if somebody will stand there and hold it open for you?”

“Exactly,” Cutter said. “We get in, have a chat, find out what we need to know, go on about our business, everybody is happy.”

“You think this rich woman will just tell us who gave her the tip?” That from Kay.

“If we ask properly, she will,” Wink said. He held up a small medical case. “Dr. Feelgood can always find a way.”

Unlike the foray into TotalMart, this would be a stealth operation. Done right, nobody would even realize what they had done—Wink had enough chem to find out what he wanted, then to make the subject forget he’d asked.

There were only two of them going in—Wink, because he had the medical skills, and Jo, because she was the best equipped to stand guard while he asked questions.

“Scanners will pick up anything we try to take in,” Wink said. “And if they have half a brain among them, they’ll know that Jo is augmented to the toenails. I see that as a problem.”

“Except that they won’t look,” Cutter said. “It would be considered insulting to the Rajah to ask him or his entourage to pass through a scan field. And even if they do a surreptitious peek? Wink is listed as the Rajah’s personal medic,
thus his having medical supplies is expected, and Jo is going as a ‘security consultant.’ Even though they don’t much hold with augmentation, nobody is going to begrudge the Rajah an augmented bodyguard, especially after the recent assassination attempt.”

“So this is going to be as easy as that? Waltz right in, corner the woman, find out what she knows, and leave?”

“Sure. Even if you get caught, the Rajah has but to snap his fingers, and all will be forgiven.
What? My people wandered into a place off-limits to visitors? My apologies.

“No matter what they might think, they will grin and bear it; he’s the Rajah.”

Jo stood by the bedchamber’s door, listening for company. Wink had shined his not-inconsiderable charm at Udiva, who was an attractive, Rubenesque woman of sixty or so. Her outfit of fine green-and-orange static-held silks had probably cost as much as Jo made in six months.

The room smelled of roses, almost overpoweringly so, even with her olfactories damped way down.

Wink had taken Udiva down a path different than she’d expected. She’d thought Wink was interested in quick and dirty sex—right up until he slapped a derm on her neck and put her into a chemical fog.

With her augmented hearing, Jo could follow the conversation as she listened for anybody who might wander down the hall.

“Who told you the market was going to fall just before the reports of the Rajah’s daughter’s kidnapping broke?”

“Rama Jadak,” she said.

Just like that. Son of a bitch. Gramps was right,
Jo thought.

“You sure? Directly?”

“No, via com. The message was encrypted, but I have
had dealings with Rama over the years. He is the power behind the Rajah Jadak; to do serious business in Pahal, you deal with Rama, everyone knows that.”

“Could it have been somebody using his voice?”

“The com had his ID number.”

Wink glanced over at Jo. “That enough?”

“Get the ID sig.”

Wink turned back to Udiva. Asked her for the number, which she gave him.

Jo said, “Let’s go.”

“Hold on.”

Wink peeled the pink derm spot from Udiva’s neck and replaced it with a second, blue one. After a moment, she began snoring. He looked at his timer. “Fifteen seconds.”

He waited that long, then peeled the second derm off. “She’ll sleep for an hour, won’t remember what happened.”

He reached down and worked her silk pantaloons down and off.

“What are you
doing
?”

“Setting the stage.” He tossed the pantaloons onto the floor, spread her knees a bit, and untabbed her tunic, to expose her torso. She had large breasts, and they’d been augmented. Her mons was depilated, smooth as could be.

He stood. “Whoa, look at that.”

“You’re a doctor, you’ve seen plenty of those, haven’t you?”

“Wave the light panel off.”

Jo looked at him.

“Go on, you’ll like this.”

She did.

The room dimmed to a faint glow.

And it wasn’t the only thing glowing. The snoring woman’s pubes and nipples pulsed, each a bright, phosphorescent orange, dimming and brightening in synch with her heartbeat.

Jo waved the light back up. Shook her head.

“I guess some of her lovers must get lost in the dark,” Wink said. “So she lit some landing beacons, just in case.”

“Let’s go find the Rajah and get out of here.”

“We gonna tell him it’s Rama?”

“Not us, that’s for Rags to decide. But now that we know, we can finally get off our asses and
do
something.”

“So, it
is
Rama,” Cutter said.

“Told you,” Gramps said.

“And given your lack of short-term memory, you’ll probably tell us ten more times before the day is done,” Gunny said.

“And I’ll enjoy doing just as much each and every time.”

Gunny shook her head.

Kay said, “Our course of action would be to capture Rama and get him to tell us where he has the Rajah’s daughter.” Not a question.

“Pretty much,” Jo said. “Since we are relatively sure he is responsible, that knowledge will make it easier to proceed.”

“And where is he?” Cutter asked.

Formentara said, “As of now, in northwestern Balaji.”

“What is he doing there?” Wink asked.

“Starting a war, it appears,” Formentara said.

“Fuck! I was hoping to get to him before he did that. I wonder why the Rajah didn’t give us a heads-up?”

Formentara lit a projection, a view from orbit, with a map that included four layers of overlay. “It seems that Pahali forces crossed the border into Balaji, just south of the Inland Sea in the Kadam Forest within the last few minutes. They have been just firing the odd potshot at each other, lighting up the night with a flare now and then, but our sat feed shows that ground troops began their advance at oh-dark-thirty.”

“Has the Balajian army engaged?”

“Not so much. The border guards retreated in a hurry. Lot of commercial timber in the forest there, which straddles both sides of the border. Been a hot summer, the wood is dry. Nobody wants to burn it down, so the Thakore’s main army is waiting on the plain to the southeast. There’s a mountain pass that bottlenecks south of the forest, so they’ll have to throw some big rocks to soften it up.”

“Shit, shit, shit. What about the Rajah?”

“Ramal’s army is still in New Mumbai, on the eastern border, but it is packing up its tents. I had to guess, I’d say he’ll be heading northeast to get behind the Thakore’s forces while Rama’s troops hit them from the front. The capital city is all the way across the country on the east coast, but Balaji’s navy is pretty strong, more gunboats than Pahal’s, and New Mumbai won’t be able to get their ships there without sailing all the way over the Roof, so it’ll take them a while to make any difference at sea.

“Pahali and Mumbaiian air and missiles will hit Balajian ground forces, but Balaji actually has as many fighters and bombers as they do, so that won’t be a rout. I don’t think we are talking nukes here, but there will be some noise.”

Cutter nodded. Yes.

“It won’t be a surprise,” Formentara continued, “but it won’t matter. The Balajians are outnumbered. Knowing it’s coming isn’t the same as being able to stop it.”

Gramps said, “We got to go pretty quickly.”

Cutter nodded. “Yeah. Either way—if Rama has Indira, and he’s planning on ‘rescuing’ her, or dumping her body
deep in Balajian territory, then she’ll be there already, or he’ll have her with him. Find him, we find her.”

“If she knows he did it, she’s a dead woman.”

“Yes. But what we have so far, I see Rama as greedy. If he can get it all, I think he’ll try for it. Somewhere in the upcoming battles, Indira will show up, dead or alive.

“Okay, people, you know the drill. Saddle up.”

They filed out, save for Gramps, who lagged behind.

“What?”

Gramps said, “We got an incoming com. It’s from the guy who called us about the Thakore,” Gramps said.

“Put it on speaker.”

“Colonel. We spoke before.”

“Yes, sir, what can I do for you?”

“My country has been invaded by Rama’s army and is about to become a bloody fucking battlefield.”

“I know. Sorry. I’d stop it if I could.”

“I take it you haven’t found Indira.”

“No. But we have what we think is a strong lead. If we can collect her before it goes too much further, it might help.”

“What can we do to assist you?”

“Nothing, sir. Better that nobody knows where we are or what we are up to. The air has ears.”

“It does. You have this com number. Please let me know if you have news.”

“I will.”

The connection went silent.

“You think it’s him? The Thakore hisself?”

“I’d offer good odds, yes. He’s hoping that we can find Indira and get the war called off. But that’s a really narrow window. Man is looking at an invasion he can’t stop, he’ll check everything that might help.”

Another incoming com cheeped.

“You are getting popular, Rags. Another on the private pipe. Hurry up. We have to go.”

Cutter gave him a fuck-you look: “Cutter here.”

“Hitachi on this end.”

“Good evening, Colonel.”

“Dark, yes, nothing good about it.”

“We didn’t start the war,” Cutter said.

“I know. And since it’s a local dustup, J-Corps won’t get too involved unless it trips one of our beams.”

Cutter knew what “too involved” meant. XTJC would have speckunits roaming in the field, monitoring. They’d be broadcasting GU ID sigs high, wide, and repeatedly, and woe be to anybody who fired on them. J-Corps had a certain rep on backrocket worlds, and deservedly so: Shoot at us, we will nuke you all and let God sort out your radioactive dust. When you had only a relatively few troops to cover an entire world, you went to the big hammer fast. J-Corps wouldn’t think anything at all about deploying tactical nukes to take out a small force. Mama Terra was paying for the boomware: What was a two-klick crater to her if the Army decided it was necessary? More where those came from…

“Just in case any of CFI’s people somehow find themselves roaming around in a war zone, I am hereby advising you to be careful where you do any plinking.”

“Understood.”

“And unofficially, Colonel, if you can come up with a way so they stand down, I’d be happy to buy some of that bourbon you like if we get around to that drink. I know you don’t really care for scotch. Lot of forms I have to fill out when the locals decide to go to war.”