Petaybee #03: Powers 3- Power Play by Anne McCaffrey

Author:Anne McCaffrey [McCaffrey, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Adventure, Science Fiction, Fiction, General, Space Opera, Life on Other Planets, Life on Other Planets - Fiction
ISBN: 9780345387813
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 1995-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

“They did what?” Dr. Matthew Luzon said in a volume that blasted the eardrums of the party on the end of the comm link.

“The PTS transporter license has been revoked and the vehicle impounded.”

“That can’t be done!” Luzon angrily stamped the cane he still had to use into the thick carpet. There weren’t half enough people down on the planet’s surface yet, and he hadn’t been able to infiltrate enough of his agents to effect the sort of damage he had planned on creating. Makem hadn’t reported in since he landed either, and so Luzon had no idea if the Asian Esoteric and Exotic Company had reached the surface. They had been so eager to slay the unicorns for their horns, long believed to have aphrodisiacal and healing powers, and to acquire the whiskers of the orange cats, which they had been told had similar powers as well as life-extending properties. He had also given them a list of therapeutic plants and lichens, which incidentally included all the vegetation so far catalogued on the planet’s surface. The way those fellows worked, a forest could be hewn, chopped into splinters, and removed quicker than one of those disgusting felines could blink. And then the “renewable wealth” of Petaybee would be past history . . . but first he had to get enough people down there to do the job!

“The remote device was removed from the cockpit and there’s one of those propulsion unit clamps that would blow the vessel into trash if someone tried a manual takeoff. That ship is grounded.”

“But that’s a totally prohibited perversion of basic Commercial Venture rights. All the proper forms have been accepted by—”

“They’ve just been disaccepted, Luzon. The credit account has had its assets frozen, and mail, messages, or credit transfers addressed to PTS are being returned to sender.”

Matthew Luzon, fuming and sputtering and sorely tempted to throw the comm unit across the room into the mock-marble fireplace, was trying to figure out how the carefully constructed and protected PTS operation could have been discovered and blocked. Who? Unless that twit-brained Makem had been corrupted down on the planet’s surface? The noise of his room buzzer penetrated his fury.

“Yes?” Even Luzon was astonished at the snarl in his voice and moderated his tone. “Yes?”

“Torkel Fiske to see you,” said the sexy-voiced receptionist of this exclusive health resort.

“Ah, the very man.” Matthew’s ire settled almost as instantly as it had flared. “Enter. Enter. My dear Captain Fiske, how good of you to spare some time to visit the convalescent.”

Fiske came in, suavely dressed and smiling, with a touch of smug satisfaction that was visible to the shrewd eye of his observer. Matthew began to feel that his unexpected visitor was going to cheer him no end, and so he prolonged that pleasure until he had seen Fiske suitably supplied with the drink of his choice and some of the enticing tidbits that the resort offered its distinguished clientele.

“I came, Dr. Luzon, because I felt that you might not have heard the news,” Fiske said, still smiling unctuously.

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