Fortune's Light - Michael Jan Friedman [11]
“Makes sense.” He nodded. “I’m—”
“I know who you are. Let’s just get started, shall we?” She indicated a low-slung couch to one side of the fireplace. Riker sat and tried not to stare again as she began to pace.
“All right,” said the woman, rubbing her hands together. “Here’s where we stand. As you already know, if you’ve spent any time at all on this planet, a high-tech ban is imposed on Besidia during the Trade Carnival. That means no weapons or other devices of the sort introduced into Imprima over the last seven hundred years—in deference to the age of wisdom that spawned the madraggi in the first place.
“Another rule is that people can come in whenever they want—but no one can leave. That’s not just a custom—it’s enforced through the use of energy shields. Though of course they are dropped momentarily to permit arrivals like yours.”
“You’re right,” he said evenly. “I’m already aware of all this.” Probably he should have just shut up and listened. But he had the distinct feeling that he was being talked down to. Worse, it seemed to him that she knew she was doing it—had, in fact, assumed this condescending attitude to mock him.
But why? Not over the issue of her sex, he hoped. He had apologized for that mistake already.
The Impriman went on as if he’d never interrupted. “Since Teller Conlon was entrusted with the seal after the beginning of the carnival, he couldn’t have left Besidia with it. Therefore, it is somewhere within the city limits. When we find him, we find it—and I’ve already discovered a trail that may lead us to him.”
“You sound certain that it was Conlon who took the seal,” said Riker.
She regarded him. “Aren’t you?”
“Far from it. If he’s missing, it’s because he was kidnapped to make it look as though he took the seal.”
She grunted. “I see. And his history of petty smuggling does nothing to make you doubt that?”
He stared back at her. “What history of petty smuggling?”
The Impriman frowned slightly. “My apologies. I thought you had been better informed by your Starfleet.” Pulling a leather wallet out of her tunic, she tossed it to him.
He caught it, opened it, and drew out its contents. “What’s this?” he asked her.
“The details,” she said, “of Teller Conlon’s illegal activities, in which he used the power of his office to amass personal wealth.”
Riker pored over the information, aware that she was watching him the whole time, waiting to see his reaction. Finally he replaced the material in the wallet and tossed it back to her. “I don’t believe this—any of it. All it shows is that someone’s gone to great lengths to set up my friend—created an elaborate trail that would eventually lead to him.” He shook his head. “I just don’t buy it.”
The Impriman nodded. “I was warned you might feel this way.”
“Whoever warned you was right. I’m here to get Teller out of this mess safe and sound. Not to participate in his incrimination.”
The woman eyed him. “Rest assured,” she said, “that I’m a professional. I’m not here to incriminate your friend, just to conduct my investigation. Criathis will decide the question of guilt. And I think you’ll agree—whether he’s guilty or not, the discovery of Teller Conlon’s whereabouts may be of some importance in recovering the seal.”
Riker spread his hands. “No argument there. You said you had a lead?”
“Yes. We can pursue it now, if you like. Or if you have some ideas of your own, I can pursue it by myself.”
Her tone was brisk, businesslike. But there was something very unbusinesslike beneath it. Something decidedly hostile.
“No,” said Riker. “I think we can work on your idea. Together.” He paused, seeking the right words. “You know, I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot here. It’s just that Teller Conlon is my friend and—”
“Yes,” she interjected. “You said that.”
He looked at her, trying to remain calm and reasonable. “So I did,” he said. Clearing his throat, he took another stab at it. “Listen—there’s obviously something about me that bothers you. If it’s not my belief in my friend’s innocence, then what is it? The fact that you caught