Oblivion - Michael Jan Friedman [23]
The glinn had been reluctant to show his face in the vicinity of the blast, lest he be implicated in it and arrested. But then, that was what underlings were for.
Merant and three others had been deployed in the plaza. Their job was to keep track of any Zartani who showed up at the appointed time, and then grab him as soon as the bomb went off. Not a very difficult task.
And yet, Demmix had managed to slip through their fingers. Worse, the blast had failed to injure Picard. And though the glinn’s backup scheme had worked well enough, landing the human in the local detention center, it now seemed that Picard had found his way out again.
Thanks to an ally who had—no doubt—been on hand all along, ready to help him in case anything went wrong.
The glinn bit the inside of his mouth. I should have thought of that possibility, he told himself. It nettled him that he had been so handily outmaneuvered.
His eyes narrowed as he regarded Merant. “Tell me about this human-looking female.”
Merant blinked—an unmistakable sign of discomfort in a Cardassian. “She had dark skin. A gray dress. And she wore an unusual hat.”
The glinn could feel his anger boiling into his throat as a mental picture of the woman emerged. “And that’s all you know about her?”
Merant blinked again. “Yes, Glinn.”
“That’s wonderful,” said the glinn, allowing his voice to take on an edge that would cut duranium. “Just wonderful.”
There were a great many human-looking females in Oblivion, a number of them with dark skin. As for the hat and the dress…that could be changed easily enough.
Much like Demmix’s appearance.
Fortunately, thanks to his spies on the Zartani homeworld, he had other information at his disposal. He knew what Demmix was like, and what his habits were. And though his men hadn’t been able to grab the Zartani, they had gotten a glimpse of his surgically altered face in the plaza.
But with Picard on the loose, the Cardassians wouldn’t be the only ones looking for Demmix. Much to his disgust, the glinn had a competition on his hands.
He had come here to seize Demmix and find out what he knew. But at the very least now, he had to keep Demmix’s information out of Picard’s grasp.
Otherwise, the Federation would enjoy an immense advantage in this sector. No longer having to worry about the Ubarrak, it would be able to redeploy more of its resources to the borders of the Cardassian Union.
And that would be bad—not only for Cardassia, but for the glinn himself. His superiors wouldn’t look kindly on him for permitting such a distasteful state of affairs.
Just as the glinn wasn’t looking kindly on his second-in-command at the moment.
“Merant,” he said, “I would like a word with you in private.” He took the others in at a glance. “The rest of you are dismissed. Report to your assigned locations.”
The glinn waited for them to leave. When the last one had filed out of the room, he turned to Merant again.
“I know,” said the glinn, “that the human’s escape from the detention facility was not your fault.”
Merant obviously hadn’t expected sympathy from his superior. It seemed to catch him off-guard.
“Nor is it your fault,” the glinn continued, “that he had an accomplice waiting for him here in Oblivion.”
Merant seemed to relax.
Which was just what the glinn had wanted him to do. It would make what he had to say next that much more memorable.
“However,” the glinn noted in the same reasonable voice, “it is very much your fault that Demmix is at large.”
Merant’s jaw seemed to become unhinged.
“So,” said the glinn, “if the humans find Demmix before we do, and spirit him out of Oblivion, you will be held accountable—first of all, by Central Command.”
Merant started blinking again.
“I don’t envy anyone who’s held accountable by Central Command,” the glinn told him. “Not in the least. On the other hand, a few of them have survived to lead useful lives, insofar as that is physically possible.”
Merant’s jaw muscles bunched.
“But it’s not just