Murray conveyed the message. Then, “Why should he help you? He’s a businessman. What’s in it for him?”
“He understands protection, right? This is to do with an interplanetary situation that involves the politics between Jevien and Earth. If we don’t get any satisfaction unofficially, then other people are going to do it officially. And they won’t fool around. In other words, it’s either a friendly favor to us or a police bust. Which does he want?”
Murray translated. Scirio laughed and spat out a stream of what was clearly derision, emphasized by gestures and a final throwing-away motion.
“He farts in the faces of the Shiban police. They’re all assholes, and wouldn’t know how to bust their way into an empty room. In any case, he owns them. We have to do better than that.”
“Then try this,” Cullen said, cutting in. “There are big players moving to get the Ganymeans out of Jevlen and replace them with a Terran occupation backed by a military force. That’s what we’re
trying to stop. If we fail, what would that do to his business?”
Murray passed it on, and Scirio went very quiet; Then he called out something in a raised voice to one of the two men in front.
“He’s gonna call the head office,” Murray muttered.
A tone sounded from somewhere. Scirio opened a small compartment in a divider between two of the seats and took out a telephone handset—apparently whoever was on the other end and what was said were private matters.
Speaking in a low voice, Scino told Grevetz the situation. Grevetz, in his villa outside the city, pondered. The German that the Terrans were trying to trace was the one Iduane had said to get rid of But if the Ganymeans and Terrans were showing that much concern, it might lead to real problems. He ought to double-check with Eubeleus before doing anything drastic, he decided. He could always get rid of Baumer tomorrow if Eubeleus still wanted him to. But if he did it today and it turned out to be not such a good idea for some reason, that would be less easy to fix.
“Have you got any idea where this guy they’re looking for is?” he asked Scirio.
“If he’s not anywhere they’ve tried, then he’ll be freaking out in the club,” Scino replied.
Grevetz thought about it. If the Terran Murray was with them, the club wasn’t a secret. It didn’t sound as if they were interested in the firm’s business, anyway; more like some political crap that Grevetz didn’t want to get involved in. Perhaps just playing it straight and open would be the quickest way of getting them to leave him alone.
“Okay, you can take them there,” he instructed Scino. “If the German’s there, let them have him.”
Scirio replaced the handset. Saying nothing to Murray, he called out something to the front compartment again. A voice acknowledged from a grille in the partition.
Murray raised his eyebrows and nodded. “That did the trick, guys. We’re on our way to the Gondola.”
In the court of the People, Baumer watched from the prosecution table as the Accuser began reading his role of witnesses.
“In support of the case brought against the accused, I call upon the religious teachers of all time . . .“ A line of men in robes, cloaks, cassocks, some bearded, several with long, flowing hair and carrying wooden staffs, filed into the room through a side entrance. “I call upon the world’s great artists, its poets, its seers, its mystics, all those who have tried through the ages to turn Man’s eyes away from the mundane and the material, and open them to . .
The Accuser’s voice trailed away as the Counsel for Defense rose to his feet, waving his hand in an impatient protest. Beside him was a dwarf dressed as a jester, hopping up and down excitedly in his eagerness to speak. From the dock, the industrialist, the engineer, the scientist, and the philosopher looked on with interest.
“If I might be permitted, I have here a single witness who will put an end to this whole farce now, without wasting any more of the court’s time,” the Defense Counsel said. “I move for the case to be dismissed.’’