This is a fan translation of Agent of the Star Corps (Агент Звёздного корпуса) by the Russian science fiction author Leonid Kudryavtsev.
I claim no rights to the contents herein.
Chapter 15
"By the way, I've been meaning to ask you… You're not bluffing, are you? Maybe you don't even have that thing the Ragnites want."
The Sniffer was smiling, but his eyes were piercing and cautious.
"Can you be quiet?" Michael asked. "Or is all this talking in your contract?"
"I can be quiet," the Sniffer shrugged. He sounded a little offended. That was new.
But now wasn't the time for arguing.
Michael needed a directory. An ordinary one. For tourists.
Where to get it?
Sure, he could easily buy one. But the Sniffer was watching his every move. He wouldn't be able to buy a directory so the Sniffer didn't notice it.
In point of fact, Michael only needed to look at a single page. But, again, so the Sniffer didn't see it. Who knew that son of a bitch? He shouldn't give his enemy even a hint at how to find the weapon.
What to do?
But the answer came to him quickly.
A hotel!
As a rule, every hotel room had such a directory. There'd probably been one in Haka's room too. But Michael had no idea back then he'd need the book and had ignored it.
But it wasn't difficult to fix that. All he needed to do was get a room at the closest hotel. It would also be a way to keep the Sniffer from watching him.
The Sniffer.
Michael only then realized how much of an obstacle he was to his plans. Brado was sure that as soon as he found the secret weapon, the Sniffer was going to try to take it. And not just him. Maybe the Ragnites' mercs would join him, as well as the committee members and the corrupt centurions.
Basically, as soon as he emptied Haka's stash, a hunt would start. A major hunt. All he'd have to do was to get to the spaceport and leave this damned planet.
Oh, was that all?
Michael shook his head.
He'd only be able to get to the spaceport if he got very lucky. Or… Would the Sniffer report that the weapon had been found? Why did he need competition?
If he didn't signal to the Ragnites, then Michael would only have one opponent. The Sniffer himself. That would increase his chances of reaching the spaceport and take the weapon away from Abausa. Although he still hadn't figured out how to get rid of the Sniffer. But he would… First he needed to get to the object stolen by Haka.
Michael looked around.
Right, if he recalled, there was a decent hotel only a few blocks away. Exactly what he needed.
No point wasting time. Let's go!
He started walking away from the store.
The Sniffer immediately began walking beside him and inquired, "I think you're planning something."
"I'm sure it's just your imagination," Brado snorted.
"No, I think you are. My two previous clients were also Humans, so I've learned to read them a little. You're planning something. Ease your burden, confess."
"Ah, so you must be a kindly pastor I'm supposed to tell all my sins to."
"Exactly."
"Uh-huh," Michael snorted. "Keep it up. As for what I'm planning… Nothing special. I've just decided to get some rest."
"Oh, you're tired then?"
"I am."
The Sniffer threw a concerned look at Michael but stopped asking questions. That was something, at least.
Then again, Michael could tell that the Sniffer wasn't who he was pretending to be. A chatterbox… an idiot… Yeah, right!
The Sniffer was a professional to the core. And the only reason he was doing any pretense was because he knew that now wasn't the time for the main fight yet. Too soon. That meant he could play the fool a little. It wouldn't make anything worse. Maybe the mark would buy that he wasn't dangerous.
Still, how did he survive that crash? Michael thought. And how does he keep finding me?
When the hotel was very close, the Sniffer couldn't help but ask, "So you're decided to get some rest? Get a room at a hotel?"
"Of course," Brado replied. "I wonder how you came to that conclusion. Must be your natural intelligence."
"Let's not, okay?" the Sniffer said. "If we start insulting one another, it's not going to lead to anything good."
Michael snorted, "And you think our acquaintance is supposed to end with something good? Like an agreement on mutual cooperation?"
"Of course not. But we have to respect one another, at least a little. It's a lost more pleasant to work with someone who respects you."
"Uh-huh. It's more pleasant to slit the throat of someone who respects you."
"I have no intention of harming you," the Sniffer said. "If you fulfil your side of the bargain with the Ragnites, of course."
"Keep singing that tune," Michael said mockingly, entering the hotel.
It turned out to be nearly identical to the one he and Haka had been staying in. The only difference was that it had ten stories and an elevator.
Giving the receptionist a name he'd just made up, Michael paid a small sum and was immediately given a room key.
As he headed for the elevator, he heard the Sniffer requesting the room next to his.
Of course. He'd have done the same.
The room was on the third floor. Michael entered it, opened the window, and looked outside.
Excellent. He'd guessed right. An large rusted drainpipe ran right next to his window.
Hooray! Thank God for old hotels.
A small table stood by the window with an ashtray, a pitcher of water, and a tourist directory. Opening it, Michael quickly found the right page.
All right, diners, taverns, bars…
Bars.
Brado couldn't believe his eyes. His suspicions had been confirmed. Now he could take possession of the Ragnites' secret weapon at any moment. Assuming he managed to get rid of the Sniffer, of course.
How could he do that?
Brado listened.
Right, the elevator stopped on his floor. Light, almost catlike footsteps. The clicking of the key in the door of the neighboring room.
The Sniffer.
He had to act before the man had a chance to look around. Right now.
Michael closed the directory and, placing it back onto the table, looked out the window again.
The drainpipe was exactly what he needed. He only hoped it wasn't fully rusted. Then again, even a fall from such a height wouldn't seriously harm him.
Opening the window wider, Michael climbed onto the windowsill and, reaching for the drainpipe, tugged on it.
It swayed but looked like it would hold him.
Screw it.
He grabbed onto the drainpipe and pushed off the windowsill. The pipe swayed and creaked. Looking down, he saw several passersby stop and watch him in amazement.
At least there weren't any centurions nearby.
Michael began climbing down.
One of the onlookers told another, "I bet that nut is going to lose his grip."
The other one replied, "Nah, he's not. The pipe will break."
"I'm telling you, he'll lose the grip…"
Getting down to the second floor, Brado looked up. By his calculations, the Sniffer's head was supposed to already be sticking out of the window next to his.
But it wasn't.
Where was that hunting dog? Maybe the Sniffer was at that very moment getting down to the first floor in the elevator to meet him on the street with a slow clap.
Just a little longer…
The pipe creaked but held. Maybe all those old people claiming that things used to be better were right after all.
A little more…
Michael pushed away from the pipe and fell down. He landed on both feet and bounced, not even hurting them. He looked up.
Just then the Sniffer looked out his window and shook his head, "This mark is a restless one."
The climb down had left wide strips of rust on Michael's clothes. Doing his best to wipe them off, he ran up to a car fifty paces away.
He didn't see the car's owner nearby. The onlookers, unhappy that the pipe hadn't broken, were already walking.
Michael pulled out the unigun, slid a pair of switches on the back of the barrel, and pulled the trigger. A thin blue beam came out of the opening.
It took less than two seconds to cut out the car's lock. When it fell onto the road, Brado put the unigun away and climbed into the car.
Throwing a quick glance at the hotel, he saw that the Sniffer's window was now empty. He was mostly likely already in pursuit.
Let him. He had at least ten minutes. More than enough.
A fat Abausian with a lush beard was running to the car from the other side of the street. Probably the owner. He was running heavily and furiously, like an enraged rhino.
Too late. Should've run sooner, Michael thought and switched the speed control to the max.
Twenty minutes later, he stopped the car at the Sharafey Leaf bar and tossed a small stack of cash onto the backseat. The sum would be enough to buy a new car, to say nothing of repairing the door.
Climbing out, Michael approached the bar.
It was located in a small two-story building adorned with multiple cornices, some strange-looking triangular balconies, and a huge sign that bore the bar's name in twisted letters that looked as if they'd been put together from branches.
Looking at the sign, Michael scratched his head.
How the hell had he not known of the bar's existence?
Haka had almost made a mistake with that clue. Almost. He had eventually figured it out, but he hoped it wasn't too late.
He pushed the door and entered.
Nothing special. Just a bar.
Since it was still daytime, the place was almost empty. An elderly Abausian with a drunken face was sitting on a tiny stage and digging inside some strange-looking musical instrument. A huge, big-faced bartender was leaning on the counter, clearly bored. Two old, gray-haired, and very prim ladies were drinking coffee in a corner. A lightly dressed girl with a face painted so much that makeup would start falling off if she so much as smiled and huge eyes that seemed even larger thanks to her eyeliner saw Michael and perked up, then, instantly sensing that her services would not be required, lost all interest in him.
Michael walked to the bar and plopped down onto a stool.
The bartender threw a lazy glance in his direction and muttered, "What'll it be?"
"Beer."
"No beer."
"What do you have?"
The bartender thought about it. It seemed the task required him to mobilize everything he had.
"How about a Green Branch?"
"What's that?"
"Our special cocktail."
"Fine, give me your special cocktail. Quickly. I'm thirsty."
"One sec," the bartender muttered and got busy.
Michael's eyes went wide in surprise. While still somehow managing to retain the bored expression, the bartender was working the bottles and shaker so quickly as if the end of the world was less than a minute away, and he wouldn't dare to stand before the Almighty without having completed his duty.
Less than thirty seconds later, Michael was staring at a tall glass filled with a green liquid with blue veins.
"Here!"
"Whoa!" was all Brado could say.
"Try it, you'll like it,"
Michael took a sip and did indeed like it.
But he wasn't here to drink special cocktails.
"Something else?"
"Yeah… something…"
Knowing well that this was the moment that would decide everything, Michael pulled out the sharafey leaf and placed it on the counter.
At that moment, the girl walked up to the counter and, noticing the leaf, exclaimed, "Oh, such a pretty thing! Where did you get it? Can I look?"
She was already reaching out to take it, when the bartender covered the leaf with his meaty hand and growled, "Screw off."
"Why so harsh?" the girl muttered.
Still, it seemed the girl didn't want to get on the bartender's bad side. Relocating to the far end of the counter, she turned her back to Michael and started watching the old ladies drink coffee.
It must've been a funny sight because less than a few seconds later the girl giggled.
The bartender look at the leaf and then licked it. Nodding in satisfaction, he asked, "Who gave it to you?"
The question threw Michael. He didn't know which name Haka had given here. There was nothing to be done but give his real one.
Fortunately, that was the right answer.
Nodding a second time, the bartender asked, "The Betulian then?"
"Yeah."
"Partner?"
"Yep."
Michael was starting to lose his patience. Time was running out quickly. The Sniffer was about to appear. But the bartender seemed to live his life by the saying, "Haste makes waste." Maybe he was right, just not in this instance.
Finally the bartender snorted in satisfaction and, stuffing the leaf into a pocket, started digging under the counter. Michael's hair nearly rose on end. A weapon that could potentially change the outcome of the future bloodbath was being kept in some dive bar, under a counter, where any curious dishwashes or waiter could reach.
"There!" The bartender placed a small bundle wrapped in parchment onto the counter.
"Is that what Haka left you?" Michael asked.
"That's it."
Michael took the bundle and hefted it. It wasn't particularly heavy. Carefully putting into his jacket's inner pocket, Brado took the glass and, sipping it, said, "Cheers!"
The bartender bowed his head, then reminded him, "Haka said that the person who came for the bundle would pay."
"How much?"
Michael pulled an impressive stack of cash from a pocket.
The bartender named the sum. Michael counted off the bills and, putting the rest away, finished the cocktail leisurely. It had been thirty minutes since he entered the bar. There was no point in rushing. The Sniffer was somewhere close.
It was better to finish the drink. Maybe it was his last.
"Hey, you want to have some fun?"
Michael placed the empty glass back on the counter. Yeah, it was the girl. She was already on the stool next to his. There was something in her face that reminded him of a hungry stray dog.
"Want to? I can do things you'll never see."
"How much do you need?" Michael asked.
"As much as possible," the girl gave him a coquettish smile. "As much as possible…"
"Here, take it," Michael produced a stack of cash and handed it to her.
"What… what do I have to do?" the shocked girl asked.
"Nothing special. Just sit here on this stool for ten minutes and, no matter what, don't go outside. Got it?"
"Is that all?"
"No. No matter what, don't call centurions."
"I understand," the girl put the money away into her cleavage. "I can guarantee that I'm not going to move for the next half an hour."
"Great. I have to go."
Michael got off the stool. He managed to take two steps towards the exit when the girl called out, "Hey…"
He turned.
"If you ever want to have some fun… without payment… you can always count on me. I'm here every day."
Michael chuckled, "All right. As soon as I want to, I'll find you."
"You won't regret it."
Taking hold of the door handle, Michael heard the girl telling the bartender, "Give me a full glass of Star Acid. It's my day off."
Everything's about to start, Michael thought. And maybe even end. Who knows?
He pushed the door and stepped out of the bar. He immediately saw the Sniffer. He was standing ten paces away with his arms in front and slightly bent at the elbow. He had a calm and grim face. Having dropped the mask of a cheerful chatterbox, he looked very much like a wild beast ready to pounce.