Oblivion - Michael Jan Friedman [52]
One thing was for sure—the second officer was going to have a talk with Ensign Paris.
Enabran Tain left the last Zartani hotel on his itinerary with an irresistible desire to strangle someone.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t finally picked up a lead with regard to Demmix’s whereabouts. It was that the lead didn’t appear to lead anywhere.
Granted, the glinn now knew where Demmix had slept prior to the plaza bombing—right there in The Heavenly Meadow. However, he still didn’t know where the Zartani was headed when he left the hotel. And the manager there, for all the apparent effectiveness of Tain’s increasingly open threats, seemed incapable of producing that information.
Time was going by and he had snared neither Demmix nor Picard in his web. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all.
Just then, he felt the buzzing of his com device. Taking it out, he snarled, “Tain.”
“It’s Varitis, Glinn.”
“I want good news,” Tain snapped.
“I have some,” Varitis told him with undisguised eagerness. “I have spotted the two Cataxxans.”
Now we’re getting somewhere, Tain told himself. “Where are they?”
His underling told him.
“I’m on my way,” said Tain.
Gesturing for Beylen and Karrid to follow him, he headed for the location Varitis had given him—hoping their hunt would soon be over.
Chapter Thirteen
PICARD LOOKED AT the black-and-white-striped Dedderac who operated the footwear emporium on the transfer deck of an Athabascid deuterium tanker.
“A Zartani?” he echoed.
“Yes,” said Guinan.
“I just came in a few minutes ago,” said the Dedderac. “But if you like, I can ask someone.”
“By all means,” said Picard.
The Dedderac called over one of his employees, a human with a shock of blond hair and a stubbly brush of beard on his chin. “Braddock,” he said, “did you wait on a Zartani today?”
The fellow nodded. “Just a few hours ago. Sold him a pair of special-supports.” He glanced at Picard. “He said his feet hurt so much he couldn’t stand it another second.”
“Did he happen to mention where he was staying?” asked the captain, repeating what he and his companion had asked so often that day already.
“Not exactly,” said Braddock.
“Not exactly?” Guinan echoed.
“He asked directions to the Emperor’s Eye. That’s a hotel not too far from here. But he was a Zartani, so I didn’t think he was actually going to stay there.”
Picard exchanged looks with his companion. “Do you know where the Emperor’s Eye is?” he asked.
Guinan nodded. “As our friend here said, it’s not far. All we have to do is—”
Suddenly, she fell silent. Her eyes, it seemed, were fixed on something behind the captain.
He turned to see what might have drawn her attention, but all he saw was a multilevel display full of children’s footwear—and a colored ball lit from within, a child’s toy used to add interest to the display.
That was it. But for some reason, Picard’s companion couldn’t seem to take her eyes off it.
“Guinan?” he said.
It was then that the captain realized she was weeping. The notion came as a shock to him. To that point, he had barely seen her display any emotion at all.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
Guinan nodded, then turned to him—with what seemed like a certain amount of effort. “Fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“I said I was fine,” she told him.
Picard felt the need to probe deeper, but forced himself to respect the woman’s privacy. If she wanted to tell him what had happened, she would do so. And if she didn’t…
He put his hand on her arm. “You were telling me how to get to the Emperor’s Eye…?”
“Right,” she said. She took a deep breath, her nostrils flaring. “No problem.”
Picard thanked the store manager and the human called Braddock. Then, keeping a close, concerned eye on Guinan, he followed her out into the shopping area’s main thoroughfare.
Guinan brushed away a lingering tear as she led Picard in the direction of the Emperor’s Eye.
Odd, she thought, the way things work out. She had been on her guard for so long, avoiding anything