Service for the Dead by Martin Delrio

Author:Martin Delrio [Delrio, Martin]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780451459435
Google: Phz3PgAACAAJ
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 245679
Publisher: Roc
Published: 2003-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

22

Geneva and Belgorod

Terra

Prefecture X

March 3134; local winter

Burton Horn hit the streets of Geneva as soon as he left the Pension Flambard, intent on the task of finding one man on the entire planet—a tough job, though not impossible for someone who’d learned his trade with GenDel. The most important thing on his side was that the man was a stranger, with a known starting point. Strangers make ripples. Horn was going to find the ripples.

The communications listings didn’t have an entry for an Owain Jones of Northwind—innumerable entries for that name in old Wales, but those could be ruled out, at least for now. Nor did the Office of Social Information carry listings for transient offworlders. Furthermore, the Genevan emergency records showed that nobody answering to the name of Owain Jones had checked in at any hospital or aid booth.

Horn left the communications grid office. So much for official help. His next stop would be his old pals at GenDel.

“Horn!” David Ashe said when he walked in the door. “I heard that you quit.”

“I went on leave, that’s all,” Horn said. “Got a temp gig that pays pretty well. How’ve things been here?”

“Not too bad. Every day gets me one day closer to retirement. What can I do for you?”

“Can you find out for me the names, dates, and locations of any civilian DropShips that arrived on Terra from Northwind, or that arrived having made connections with a vessel from Northwind, since fourteen March of this year?”

“Right into the proprietary data banks, eh?” said Ashe. “Why not just go to the ports and ask the cargo masters? That’s actually legal.”

“Chatting up cargo masters takes time, and time’s what I don’t have. My boss wants results.”

“He’s not my boss. Sounds like a personal problem to me.”

Horn regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. “Want a bit of spare cash?”

“From the temporary gig?”

“Sort of,” Horn said. “The info I’m after isn’t anything that’s illegal to have, and you know I can get it in other ways.”

“You mean we could help each other out?” Ashe’s nondescript GenDel features took on a calculating expression. “Why didn’t I know you were a crook when you worked here?”

“I try to keep my worse impulses in check,” Horn said, straight-faced. “Now how about it?”

“Okay, but you have to make it worth my while. Tell me who your boss is.”

“It’s no secret. Jonah Levin.”

“Okay,” said Ashe. “That and a spot of cash, and we can do business.”

Horn pushed a pile of currency across the desk. Ashe picked it up and whistled. “Not too careful of your expense account, are you?”

“He’s a Paladin,” Horn said. “He’s got a budget big enough to handle it. Results is what it’s all about. Now I’d like to see some.”

“You got it.” Ashe pushed some keys on his terminal. A moment later the printer whirred, and a sheet of flimsy drifted into the output tray. “Here you go. Four vessels, all from within ten parsecs of Northwind, since fourteen March.”

Horn took the sheet, glanced at it, folded it, and put it into his inner pocket.

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