This Gulf of Time and Stars Read Free

they’d offered no explanation. So much becoming clear at once—calm, he told himself. Calm and control. “Acranam’s different, yes. There are twenty-nine families living there.” He paused for effect. “Less than two hundred Clan.”
    She stared at him. “That’s—that’s not possible.”
    â€œMight be.” Fry stuck his thumb in his mouth, then pressed it to his disk. A vid appeared, showing a wide street ending in dense jungle. The image moved from side to side, picking out buildings with windows but no doors. The viewpoint soared up, and foliage met over rooftops, hiding them; beyond, foliage stretched unbroken to the horizon. “Scans are useless—traded top of the line blockers to him myself—so I had my people drop a ’bot—what?” at Gayle’s shake of her head. “Caraat disappeared mid-contract. For all I knew, the whole place had been wiped out. Besides, I wanted some leverage. In case it wasn’t.”
    â€œIt’s always tech with you.” Gayle spat tidily, catching the moisture midair with a finger’s tip, touching that to her disk. “Now this is leverage.” Numbers stacked themselves in tidy rows, then clustered. Lines drew between certain groups, names appearing in color along them. “While you took pretty pictures, my people uncovered those managing Caraat’s offworld finances, as well as those of other known Clan. More than a few remain—how shall I put it?—free agents. Accessible.” Spiders danced to her smile. “I’ve left them be, for now.”
    â€œI’d say that beats you, Blue.” Manouya chuckled at Fry’s dour look, then wiped sweat from his cheek, dripping the result on his disk. Green ripples appeared in Cartnell’s chart, seemingly random until they converged around three points. “The Clan can’t be tracked,” the Brill said, “but lately they’ve drawn attention.” An ivory nail went to the first point. “Plexis? Fair enough. Who doesn’t shop there?” It moved to the next. “Ret 7. Some nasty business there, I’m told, but all’s been quiet since.” The final point. “Camos, however, remains active. Why?”
    â€œTheir ruling Council met there,” Cartnell supplied. “Probably still does.”
    Predators in the wild gained that intent focus.
    When Cartnell didn’t elaborate, Manouya shrugged. “The Clan might be tricky to spot; not so a heavy cruiser. I found it fascinating, Board Member, how often Sector Chief Lydis Bowman, one of your Trade Pact Enforcers, has taken her ship to a world with a confirmed Clan presence.”
    Fascinating wasn’t the word he’d use. Cartnell held his tongue.
    Fry’s eyes sharpened. “I know that name.”
    â€œWho doesn’t? Someone rises that far and fast, people like us better notice.” Gayle gestured magnanimously. “In the interests of ‘full disclosure.’ I was made aware that certain Human telepaths were abducted by the Clan. Bowman’s constables recovered what was left.”
    â€œAs if she knew where to look. Yes, ours, too,” Fry added at Gayle’s raised eyebrow. “Why’d a Sector Chief get involved in the first place?” He hesitated, then went on grimly. “What are we saying here—Bowman’s one of them? Clan?”
    â€œShe’s Human.” Whatever that heritage meant to her. Cartnell chose his words with care. “There is something between them. Bowman’s not controlled—” as he’d first suspected, “—but the Clan have tolerated her snooping around them for years.” Bowman’s own reports spoke of how the Clan defended their privacy by selectively erasing memories, a process so subtle it escaped notice.
    Unlike what had been done to Sarran’s wonderful mind. Cartnell pushed that aside. “I believe they