Murray shook his head. “That’s what all that stuff back at the pad was about.” He indicated the back of Scirio’s head with a nod. “Did you notice how he was acting kinda weird when we walked into his place back in town?”
“Giving Nixie funny looks, you mean? Yes, I did. What did it mean?”
“It seems he knew her, from way back—or at least he knew
Nikasha, the person she used to be. What clinched your story was that she’d obviously never seen him before. The real Nikasha would have run a mile, never mind go walking back into the place cool as a penguin’s ass.”
Hunt blinked in astonishment. “You mean she’d been there before?”
Murray talked some more to Nixie, who talked to Scirio. “Nikasha used to be Fatso’s girlfriend—”
“You’re kidding!”
“Only Fatso also happens to have a bitchy wife, see. Anyhow, the two of them—the two dames, that is—had one hell of a fight, and Nikasha tried to wipe Mrs. Fatso out.”
Hunt stared disbelievingly. “To do in the boss’s wife? Her? That’s crazy.”
“Not her. The person who used to be her. If what you’re telling me’s true, she’s gone for keeps now, right? Yeah, do her in. It happened back there in Scirio’s place, where we were before. She stunned Mrs. Fatso with a Jev shooter while she was in the pool, figuring it would look like a heart attack, but it didn’t quite work out. Fatso put her number out, and that was why she did a vanishing act and lost herself in the city. It all happened before I came here-I never knew a thing about it.”
The one way to be sure that Nixie was not putting on an elaborate act for some reason would be to confront her with Grevetz in person, Hunt saw. His rage at the sight of her had been clear enough, and her mystification in the face of it had been something that nobody could have faked.
“And once Scirio knew she was genuine, her recognizing Grevetz as another of her kind was enough to spell out the score,” Hunt said, nodding as it all became clear. He was still shaking, he noticed. From a side window he could see that they were heading back toward Shiban. “So what happens now?” he asked.
Murray shrugged. “Sounds like it’s gonna be war all over the place now, with nobody sure who’s on whose side.”
Hunt wondered what that would mean. Nixie had been recognized at PAC by at least one of the police, and exactly where they stood in the whole business was unclear. “How safe are Danchekker and Gina back at Osaya’s place?” Hunt asked in a worried tone. “Once this news gets back, people are likely to be going crazy everywhere. I don’t like it.”
Murray passed the question on to Scirio. Scirio called some instructions forward, and one of the two men in the front seats spoke into a handset.
“He’s getting them out,” Murray said.
Scirio then went On to speak at greater length, in the course of which Murray’s eyes widened. Finally Murray turned to Hunt. “The way he sees it, the first thing has to be to stop Eubeleus turning on the computer, and then let the Terrans and Thuriens straighten things out. If they put the brakes on the headworid business that’ll be a shame, but if he was about to be run out of it anyway it doesn’t make any difference. He’s a businessman. There are plenty of other lines. He figures that this way he’ll have a better chance of working some kind of deal with the new management than he would have if Fatso’s people took over.”
Hunt frowned uncertainly. “So. . . what does that translate into? Exactly what is he saying he’s going to do?”
Murray exhaled sharply, then shook his head. “I’m not sure how, but it looks like you’ve pulled it off, Doc. He’s doing what you wanted. He’s gonna get his technical guys to connect VISAR up to their channel into JEVEX.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Danchekker relaxed back into silken cushions in one of the voluminous chairs in Osaya’s lounge, his hands clasped behind his head, and studied the shameless opulence and erotic imagery around him. “You know, I must confess there are times when I feel tempted to consider myself the victim of a misspent youth,” he called over his shoulder toward the open doorway as he heard Gina coming back in. “What tastes these establishments cater to, I fear I might be past daring to imagine.”