The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [30]
Unhooking her uniform jacket from the wall, Miyakawa stormed out of her office and headed for the far end of the starbase.
“How dare you call in this debt!”
Anlew-Is slammed a chit down on the table and continued to pound his fist at regular intervals while he screamed in Camenae’s face.
“I’ve lost a Signet-class vessel, not to mention five of my best-trained mercenaries, and you expect payment for my ruin? You should pay me for the damages I’ve incurred in this odious venture!”
Camenae leaned back in her chair, trying hard not to breathe too deeply. She wondered whether it was the olive-green skin or the black fibrous hair that gave Orions their penetrating odor.
“You paid for the information, Anlew-Is, not for a favorable outcome to your schemes. If you want insurance, go do business with Aghlarren the Mote.”
“But you sold me out to the Ferengi consortium!
I would have the Heart in my hands if not for your greed and treachery!”
“Don’t blame me for either your shortsightedness or your miserly nature,” said Camenae with a stern frown. “You know my policies and my prices, yet you consistently refuse to cover the cost of exclusivity. DaiMon Maarc knew the value of a long-term investment.”
“Ha!” he said, bathing her face with a blast of fetid air. “Dead men make no profit.”
Camenae sighed, her only concession to the truth of that statement. There was little use in denying the DaiMon’s death; the remaining members of the consortium were still seated at the bar of the Due or Die, all loudly wailing and keening over the imminent collapse of their fortunes. True, DaiMon Bruk had been sent out on the obligatory salvage mission, but the presence of a Federation starship in the sector had shaken their faith in any recovery effort. Camenae suspected their pessimism was well-founded.
The thump of a green fist shook the table again.
“I’m made of sterner stuff than mewling Ferengi merchants I won’t pay the balance!”
“Very well.”
“What?” His arm stopped in midair, aborting yet another assault on the furniture.
“In accordance with my policy concerning delinquent accounts, I will be forced to liquidate certain information about your organization that I have kept out of general inventory. The sale of that information will be applied to your outstanding debt.”
“That’s blackmail, Camenae!”
“I call it a sound business procedure.”
“Damn you!” His fist slammed down yet again, but this time he left a token in the wake of the hammer blow. “You’ll get another next month and not a day before.”
He turned and stomped his way across the deck with a deafening clatter.
“Anlew-Is,” she called out. “Do you wish to be kept informed of the Heart’s location?”
“No,” he screamed from the doorway. “The Heart can go to blazes for all I care!”
The Ferengi had given much the same answer an hour before, although the whole troupe of them did not generate half the commotion made by one Orion black marketeer.
In the blessed silence that had been restored to her chamber, Camenae considered the selection of her next customer.
When Anlew-Is erupted out of the bar’s back room, Miyakawa leaned farther back into the shadowed recesses of her booth. Her caution was hardly necessary since the Orion was far too preoccupied with broadcasting his indignation to pay any attention to his audience. As she listened to his loud ranting, and to the background chorus of the doleful Ferengi, the commander gleaned enough details to reconstruct their recent activity in the sector.
Anlew-Is was still fuming when her eyes tracked a robed figure gliding across the bar and into Camenae’s office. Reyjad@an was a permanent resident of the base, so Miyakawa knew his name and his homeworld, but the details of his personal life were a mystery. The DiWahn was an alien who kept to himself, rarely appearing in public. However, if he was one of Camenae’s customers, it might be prudent to learn more of