The Path of Sorrow Part One - B

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The Path of Sorrow Part One - B

Continued from Part One - A.


Part One - B

I'd strung him along on the comm with a casual comment that I was looking for somebody who was familiar with the jungle, and I'd been given his name. I made some excuse about not liking to talk over the airwaves, and offered to buy him a meal and a drink while I explained what the job would be.

Easy as pie to get him to agree. Any kid who was bumming meals from his friends would jump at the chance for a free supper.

So he agreed to meet me at a local bar and grill that Jack had recommended, and described himself to me so I would recognize him. I did the same for him.

I spotted him outside the bar before he saw me, so I kept out of sight to study him. He looked relaxed and happy, occasionally sharing words with people strolling past where he sat on the edge of a rock wall, feet dangling and fingers tapping a rhythm on his thighs. His clothes were colorful, and he was loaded down with bracelets and necklaces and earrings.

I decided to let him know I'd arrived after this green-haired girl did a double-take after walking out of the bar and seeing him. She squealed his name and then proceeded to shove her tongue down his throat, latching both hands on his face.

She'd given him one hell of a kiss before I'd gotten over to them, and I thought it odd that he wasn't kissing her back. He wasn't really trying to stop her, though, so I thought I'd better remind him of why he was here before Miss Grabby Hands tried to drag him away.

Apparently she needed some oxygen because she finally broke off the kiss, and then pouted at him.

“What's the matter, sweets? I thought you adored me. So how come I'm the one doing all the work here?”

She was still holding his face, but he smoothly pried her hands free and touched them to his lips, kissing them. He smiled at her.

“I'm off the market right now, Annette. But after my commitment is over, maybe--”

I'd reached the pair of them and broke into the conversation. “I'm Jim Ellison.”

Sandburg opened his mouth to reply, but the lovely Annette gave me a quick up and down -- and then slapped Sandburg. She pivoted and marched away, and I couldn't help it.

I started to laugh.

“Is your luck with women always this good, Chief?”

He was rubbing his cheek and mouthing “Ow”, then he grinned at me. I had to remind myself that he could be responsible for a lot of misery and deaths, because that smile was blinding me to that truth.

Blair Sandburg was my number one suspect, and in no way was I going to find him attractive.

No way.

Sandburg shrugged his shoulders and hopped off the rock wall. “Man, most of the time I love 'em and leave 'em happy, but once in a while...”

With my fingers, I imitated an air vessel losing altitude and crashing, complete with sound effects.

He chuckled, and held out his hand and I gave him a firm handshake. His palm was callused. “Blair Sandburg. You new to Quyllur, Jim? Oh, uh, is that okay if I call you Jim?” He swept his hand down, indicating his clean but decidedly casual clothing. “I'm an informal kind of guy, but if you'd rather I called you Mr. Ellison, hey, that's all right.”

“Nah, call me Jim, Chief.”

He tilted his head up a little, studying me, and then flashed another one of his probably trademark grins.

“Well, Jim, let's go eat; I'm curious about this job offer you mentioned.”

I stepped up next to him and without thinking put my arm around his shoulder, steering him towards the double doors of the bar. I pulled my arm away to open the door and he shot me a speculative look.

I'd have to make it clear that I wasn't going to hit on him. I could see from that look he was wondering what I wanted, but I hadn't meant to touch him like that.

I thought to myself that there was another possible reason why I was being drawn to him. Because my body obviously was drawn to his. I'd liked the look of him before I knew who he was, back in Banks' office, but now in person I could feel myself wanting to touch him, to stay close. I was going to have to be on my guard.

His genetic profile showed that he carried the constellation of guide genes. Even though my senses were dormant, my body might be taking an interest in a potential partner, in bonding with a guide.

No way in the Hundred Worlds was I going to bond with any guide, let alone a possibly criminal one. I'd double up on my meds, just to make sure that my inner sentinel stayed deeply buried. Anyway, a guide like him, possibly a law breaker but certainly promiscuous, would be just asking for trouble.

I kept my hands to myself as we located an empty table, off to ourselves.
Sandburg sat opposite from me and laid his palms on the table.

“Uh, I might be reading you wrong, but there are some jobs I won't do, so before you spend money on my dinner maybe you should tell me about what kind of work you're offering. Hey, no hard feelings if I'm not what you were looking for, okay?” He smiled again, a bit ruefully this time.

I forced myself not to react to that look. “I'm not looking for a piece of change, if that's what you're thinking. I heard you know your way around the jungle, and I could use a guide.”

He startled a little when I said guide, and I waited to see if he was going to mention that he was, actually, a guide of a different sort. He didn't say anything about it.

“I know the jungle area fairly well, but to be honest, you could probably hire somebody who knows it better. I could give you some names.”

He sounded a little uneasy, and I shook my head.

“I checked you out. You'll do, Chief. Can't you use the cash?” If he turned me down, then it might mean he had another source of money and could afford to be picky about what work was thrown his way. A source like cash from selling plants to make Yana.

He smiled again. Kid must spend most of the day just grinning at things.

“Oh, man, of course I could use the cash. You know I'm a grad student, right? Enough said. So, what's your interest in the jungle? Talk to me, Jim.”

I explained that photography was a hobby of mine, and since I was here for a while on business I thought I'd add to my collection. I wanted pictures of the plants and animals of Quyllur's jungles.

He agreed to take the job, and we worked out a rough schedule for some excursions. He didn't go into detail about his own research, just said he tended to spend a couple of weeks at time with different groups of the Sho'nakan, and he'd give me a call whenever he was back in Quilla Rumi.

He was free for this week, and we made plans to leave in the morning for a five day trip.

Dinner was good. The food, a platter of fresh fish and mounds of vegetables, was delicious and he was funny and charming throughout the meal. He refused to drink any alcohol, and when I questioned him about denying himself, because it had occurred to me that he might let something slip that I could look into if he was intoxicated enough, he said that right now he had a commitment to honor.

He'd used the same wording to the green-haired girl before she'd clobbered him.

I pressed him about what commitment had him turning down a pretty girl's invitation and free drinks.

Again, he just smiled that grin, and changed the subject. He was curious about me, but after I'd evaded his questions enough he dropped his interrogation and we ended up talking politics about the upcoming ramification.

He was against it, and when I asked him why, he showed me his bastard class tattoo.

“Right now, this code doesn't mean a whole lot out here, on the edge of the Hundred Worlds. I'm judged more for what I do, what I accomplish, than what class I belong to. After New Rainier, that's a refreshing change.”

I took that opening to probe a little, to see how deep that resentment ran against his placement in the bastard class. Banks, Jack, and I were looking into this kid's wanting to climb the social class ladder as a motive for being involved with Yana; if he had become frustrated at the effort it took and was willing to take a shortcut, well, money could buy his way out.

I got an earful about politics, social class, and what Blair Sandburg considered archaic about current society, but I didn't hear any real bitterness. More exasperation than anything.

We parted, agreeing to meet in the morning. I assured him I had all the necessary camping equipment. I had chosen to go up the coast, so we wouldn't be going anywhere near my people, I didn't want any of the youngsters to give me away.

I found that I almost put my arm around him again, as we walked out into the warm night air, but I caught myself. Instead, I clapped him on the back before turning away and starting the walk back to Jack's.

Before I crawled into bed, though, I took double my usual dose of suppressants. This case was complicated enough without having to deal with any sentinel instincts.

Sandburg was a charmer, that was clear enough. No wonder he had people eager to have him stay with them. He was smart not to wear out his welcome, though, since he flitted from buddy to buddy. So he might be intelligent enough to maintain this grad student cover of his, and fool people into believing he was harmless and not the reason Yana was taking hold on New Rainier.

I had no clue what the truth was yet. But I intended to find out.

///

Five days later, I had learned a lot about Sandburg's interests - and he was interested in plenty of things - but I had not gained much information that would help the case.

During our excursion, I'd snapped some holos of wildlife, but mostly I'd taken them of plants. He'd identified the flora right and left, and - with very little prompting from me -- he'd explained the medicinal and sacred properties of the plants I had seen Incacha use for healing and in rituals.

I'd quizzed him more about the effects of the plants, and he'd given me vague but truthful answers. I'd dropped enough hints about the kind of businessman I was - smugglers were plentiful on Quyllur - to see if he'd approach me about transporting the Yana plants, but he hadn't.

He could just be satisfied with his current arrangements, though. And know how to keep his mouth shut.

I had clamped down hard on any impulses to touch him or to stand too close to him. The double dose of suppressants I was taking helped but also I was more guarded with him.

I could tell it puzzled him, that I wasn't as friendly during our time in the jungle as I had been over dinner.

I did take note of names that he mentioned in passing. Jack and I would be checking them out, hoping that if we shook enough trees something useful on Sandburg would come loose. We'd have to be discreet though. We wouldn't have the authority to take suspects into custody on Quyllur until ratification pushed though, and currently negations were still stalled.

I would love to take Sandburg in for a truth-test, when he returned to New Rainier. But even the bastard class was protected by law from that procedure unless there was sufficient evidence against the miscreant. And we had squat on him. Any half assessed legal-defender assigned to Sandburg would get the case laughed out of court, and the detective whose premature arrest of the kid had jeopardized the case would be in for an ass-kicking from his supervisors. So Sandburg was safe from being drugged to the gills and having his mind probed. For the time being.

Upon our return to Quilla Rumi, I took him out for another meal and paid him his guide's fee. He'd been more subdued the last two days on the trip, and I was afraid that my aloofness might cause him to decline spending anymore time with me. So I let myself relax and was charming to him. Sandburg wasn't the only one who could pile it on.

It worked. He brightened back up, and by the end of the evening he was laughing and flirting with me.

He was so damn easy to like. If I was lucky, he'd be proved innocent because I hated to think of his brilliance dimmed by a mind-wipe.

He agreed to take me on another excursion when he returned from spending time with another Sho'nakan community. I knew the area where he was planning on going; I'd be there, too, hidden from him. I'd see if he met with a partner-in-crime, catch him making plans to ship the plants.

I would also start looking in other directions for who was the connection, because if Banks was wrong about Sandburg then there was another player to be brought down.

///

After giving Jack a list of names that Sandburg had mentioned as friends or acquaintances of his, I restocked my camping supplies. I was going to be staking out Sandburg while he did his research, and that meant camping out in the jungle while keeping an eye on the guy.

I'd decided to stop taking my suppressants and let my sentinel abilities resurface. While I could use binocs to see what he was up to, I also needed to hear conversations without taking the risk of his spotting me. I didn't want to plant a listening device on him, either. He was too mobile, and all he really had with him was his backpack, his clothes, and an ancient version of a slave to document his work. His finding a spy-bug was too great of a chance to take.

However, I would be taking a chance that, while using my enhanced senses, I might experience spikes and zones. I'd do my damnedest to avoid them, using every trick Incacha had shown me, but it was a risk.

It was one I was willing to take, though. I wanted to know if Sandburg was guilty or innocent, and the sooner his status was cleared up, the sooner I would know what to do about him - arrest him or take him to bed.

I tailed him as he entered the jungle, and it was so easy to fixate on his scent. He smelled good, not exactly sweet, but there was a trace of honey to him. None of the guides I'd met before had carried that tantalizing scent.

It made me want to lick him, to see if he would taste like honey. I scrubbed my hands over my face as I listened to him greet the shaman of this village, and I told myself to settle down and focus on the job.

I wasn't looking forward to the next couple of weeks. I felt like a kid standing outside a candy store, longing for the sweets but with no credits to exchange for what he wanted.

Yeah. It was going to be an exercise in self control for me to watch and listen, and not touch and taste.

Long couple of fucking weeks, for sure.

///

After months of engaging in Sandburg watching, I still had diddly squat. Jack's luck was no better; he hadn't found any connections to the Yana pipeline among the names Sandburg had mentioned in casual conversation.

I'd observed Blair Sandburg, bastard class member, graduate student, apprentice shaman, potential guide, possible drug-forcer enough that I could write a dissertation on the kid.

I'd found out what he'd meant by the commitment that had him turning down invitations for sex and alcohol. The shamans - he was being passed from one tribal shaman to the next for his lessons in the way of the shaman - had instructed him to avoid sex, alcohol, and drugs in order to purify himself for some of the rites they were teaching him. I recognized what he was doing from having seen Incacha doing these ceremonies. He was spirit-walking on the astral plane.

I had traveled that plane a few times myself, sometimes in the form of a black jaguar, and sometimes dressed in the tattered remnants of my Hunters' uniform, with black camouflage markings slashed across my cheeks.

Incacha had helped me to gain access to the spirit plane; it had been when I was mind-wiped and searching for a guide. We'd hoped that the spirits would point me to a guide.

I'd been unsuccessful, and Incacha, fearing for my sanity and health, had sent word to other villages about how I had been found and that I was in need of a guide. It was because Incacha initiated that guide search that scouts from Orion's Hunters had tracked me down and sent me back to my unit. Once there the doctors were able to reverse the mind-wipe, and I returned to taking suppressants, not wanting to bond with a guide now that I had returned to my true self.

I wondered what Sandburg was learning on his spirit walks. Did he see a black jaguar pacing him? Or a half-hidden figure following him that he would know for a sentinel?

I'd been as careful as I could be while my senses reverted to their natural state. I'd had some spikes, but luckily no zones, while Blair did his latest research with this new village. I'd met some of these folks during times when the various communities would gather together to trade and celebrate holidays. The people here had a lot of relatives in my village, so the two communities were very friendly with each other.

Blair was a favorite of the children, and he was endlessly patient with their insatiable curiosity about his hair. They loved to clamber up on his lap and twine his curls around their fingers.

I could understand the impulse.

After he'd left the latest village and returned to town, we'd had another trip together. I'd had to go back on my suppressants, and my body did not like it at all. It really wasn't the best idea health wise to go back and forth like that, but I didn't feel that I had any choice. It was too risky being close enough to touch him, just him and me, as we tramped down paths to see the wonders of Quyllur, or engaged in spirited discussions around a small campfire that was built more for light than any real need for heat.

Sometimes I did touch him. I'd play wrestle his slave out of his hand when it was his turn to cook a meal and he was stalling so that he could document something he'd seen that day. I'd keep it out of his reach, holding him against me as he laughingly stretched to grab it back. I shamelessly used my greater height against him, but he was good with his elbows and sometimes even twisted free enough to jump up and wrap his legs around my waist, his arm crooked around my neck as he pulled down my hand to get his property back.

Sometimes I'd lose my balance when he did that and we'd fall to the ground, him on top of me, grinning, as he'd yank his slave out of my hand. But more often I'd roll him over so that I was on top of him, my body pinning his down, and it was all I could do to not kiss him into dazed compliance and stop him from wiggling under me like a hooked fish.

I learned to love his laughter. If he was guilty and sentenced to being mind-wiped, his laughter would lose that bright edge and become a mindless giggle at best.

I was becoming compromised, and I knew it. But I couldn't show a cold front to Blair, he would pull away again if I did, and I needed to keep him close.

It was for the case, I told myself. Liar, a part of me replied, but I did my best to silence that voice.

///

I stretched out our time for our second trip to almost two weeks, then Blair, a regretful tone in his voice, told me that he had to return to town to take care of some business.

He evaded my questions about what kind of business. And why not tell me, I bitterly told myself, since he liked talking about things - lots and lots of things. This felt secretive, and it was the first time that he'd said or done anything that fit in with Banks' suspicions. I felt like a grade A sucker, dazzled by the zest in which Sandburg had shown towards life, and his friendliness, and that god-damn smile of his.

Jack and I would tag-team Sandburg, would follow him to this meeting, and see what we could get in the way of evidence against him.

Damn it. I'd really grown to like him.

///

“Banks is coming and he's bringing reinforcements. While you were out looking at pretty flowers--” Jack raised his eyebrows and put a little innuendo on 'looking at pretty flowers.' I gave him a rude hand gesture, and he grinned and slouched just a little more in his comfortable patio chair. “Anyway, Jimbo, as I was saying, Congress buckled down and it looks like ratification really is just around the corner.”

He shook his head ruefully and took another sip of Agrasa. “I'm going to be earning my paycheck wrapping up all my cases. New Rainier is going to be making examples out of the poor dumb crooks still here when the laws become effective, if they step one toe over the line.”

It was a sleepy afternoon, hot and humid, and most folks found things to do in the shade during this part of the day. I'd parted from Sandburg about an hour ago, and Jack and I were catching up with each other out on the covered veranda at his house.

Before we'd separated, Sandburg had told me he had some university business to do for a couple of hours, and when I'd asked him out to dinner, he'd told me he'd be tied up tonight. I was pretty sure he'd be off to his private meeting, since he instead enthusiastically agreed to meet with me tomorrow.

“Sandburg has a meeting, and he's keeping the details to himself. Want to join me on the stake-out? I'll buy the kaffee.” I spoke lightly, but Jack wasn't fooled. He frowned at me and laid a warm hand on my forearm.

“You're getting in too deep, sport. Don't think I haven't noticed that you really like that kid. If you've lost your objectivity I can cover for you, take over the investigation.”

I smiled bitterly at him. “I can do my job, Jack. If he's guilty, I'll be the first one to put the lockers around his wrists. We'll know more after I listen in to his meeting.”

He gave me another long look, then finished off his glass, a few blue drops of liquid pooling at the bottom.

I finished my own drink, and contemplated another, but no. I needed to be sharp for tonight. There was time enough later to get good and drunk if Sandburg turned out to be dirty after all.

///

“Jim, this doesn't clear him. You need to remember that.” Jack and I had returned from observing Sandburg for most of the night and early morning, and we were relaxing out on his veranda. At least there was a cool breeze fanning us as we sat together, tossing back one last drink for the evening. I grunted at Jack, acknowledging his point, trying to keep from grinning at how the evening had turned out. Jack rubbed his hands through his hair, tiredly, and stifled a yawn. He gave me a concerned look.

“I checked out Naomi Sandburg while you were eavesdropping on the two of them. According to the information on my slave, she's still listed as a person of interest in several ongoing cases involving the destruction of records as a protest against the class system. She may be Sandburg's mother, but if Quyllur had agreed to ratification today, then we'd be bound to take her in for questioning.”

“There aren't any charges against him for destruction of government property, and we can't pick him up for just meeting with a person of interest. He's done nothing wrong, according to even Rainier's current laws.”

Jack and I had tailed Sandburg to another town across the continent, where we'd followed him to his meeting at a private home with its own landing area for small birds. Jack and I put down about a half mile away, and I'd seen his mother, tall, beautiful, red-haired, embrace him.

I'd recognized her from the background files Banks had given me. She was an activist, had been since she'd been a teenager, and was known to be passionate about her stand on New Rainier's class divisions. The last known reports of her activities and whereabouts were several years old. She was suspected of destroying genealogy and DNA records during a spate of protests by a radical group that had as its agenda ending the class system.

A bunch of hotheads, all of them. Naomi had paraded her son when he was just a kid at rallies and protests, as her commitment to her ideals. She'd refused to identify his father, which automatically cast him into the bastard class.

How she could do that to her own kid, I just didn't understand. She had closed so many doors to him by her actions. Blair was pulling himself up out of his class, but his mother had deliberately made his life more difficult.

It made me want to dislike her on principles alone, but Blair was so glad to see her that I held off my own judgment of her.

They hugged and laughed and talked so fast to each other that I could see where Blair had learned his verbal skills. Apparently Naomi was swinging through this part of space, safely out of New Rainier's territories, and they'd set up this brief time to re-connect. From the yammering I overheard, she was still very much involved in lobbying for changes, but it sounded like her days of deliberately breaking the law as part of her protest agenda had ended. But she remained steadfast in her belief that what she had done had been justified.

The whole conversation sound like an old one, well used, and brought out of storage whenever they chanced to meet up with each other.

I was a little envious of their close relationship, although from what I overheard their times together were few and far between. My father and brother and I didn't even pretend to be interested in each other's lives, and my father disapproved of my career choices. He'd told me a man of my class could do better than being a soldier and a protector, and that I was a disappointment to him.

I wasn't actually opposed to what Ms. Sandburg proposed. But blowing up buildings to make your point wasn't the way to go about it. Apparently, from Blair's discussion with her, he agreed, and in their spirited discussion he advocated for peaceful demonstrations and working within the law to effect changes.

They ended their political conversation with agreeing to disagree and, with hardly taking time for a new breath of air, were off talking about mutual friends and Blair's progress towards getting his doctorate and what he loved about studying the Sho'nakan people.

They had a late dinner, just the two of them. Apparently this was a safe house and nobody lived there full time. Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, they'd hugged each other goodbye. Blair, once he was away from his mother's sight and back in his bird, broke down and cried for a little while.

My arms itched to hold him, and I wanted to comfort him, to tell him that he wasn't alone in the world, that I wouldn't leave him.

But of course, I couldn't do that, and Jack, once we'd hiked back to his bird, handed me a mug of kaffee and stayed quiet. He flew us back, hanging back from Sandburg's bird, and he kept the shields up so that we flew incognito from any tracking devices. Sandburg had done that too, but with my eyesight I'd been able to keep tabs on his flight in and back.

Jack and I were tired, sure, since we hadn't gotten back to Quilla Rumi till a few hours before sunrise, but it takes a guy a while to loosen up enough after a stake out to actually fall asleep.

Jack looked like he'd reached that point, though, and he stood up, stretching a little, then he checked his comm, reading his messages.

He sighed and glanced down at me. “Jim. You haven't said it, so I guess I'll have to bring it up. Sandburg could be selling the Yana plants in order to funnel money to his mother's activist groups. If he thinks he's doing the right thing... well, he wouldn't be the first guy to sacrifice his ethics for what he thinks is a greater good.”

I gave him a slow nod. “It crossed my mind but I have to tell you, Jack, that the longer I spend with him the more I tend to believe we're mistaken about him. Everything that I've seen with my own eyes tells me that he's a good man.”

“Well, you can bring it up with Banks.” Jack gestured with his comm. “He'll be here by the mid-day meal.”

///

Banks was just as big a man as I remembered, and his teeth clenched down hard on the cigar that Jack was lighting for him.

He inhaled, held it, and then released the gray smoke in a long exhale, the fragrant aroma hanging in the humid air as we held our council of war under the slowly revolving ceiling fans on the veranda. Seems like that was where we always ended up, when at Jack's house, but it was a comfortable, shady area, and held a good view of the road leading up to the house and the jungle beyond it. I guess the soldier in me would always prefer to be where I could monitor any possible enemy action, and I wasn't fond of surprise visits.

“I've gone over the reports from both of you. Gentlemen, we've got nothing to show for months of work, except more speculation. And the word from Rainier's backstreets is unchanged. Yana is still being distributed, and we are working on forcing a small-timer to roll over and give up more names up the ladder, but these scumbags are careful. They use masks and voice distorters during the buys.”

He scowled at me. “You've found nothing on Sandburg? Hard to believe a bastard cipher is so squeaky clean.”

I sat up straighter, and was aware that Jack was slightly rolling his eyes at me. “No, sir. Not even illegal prostitution, although I've gathered he's been asked to engage in it often enough. Sir, I've dropped broad hints that I'm available--” Jack's slight eye-roll progressed to a serious one at my statement and I lightly kicked him under the table. He winced, but quit with the facial gyrations. “Uh, available to facilitate any smuggling, that I have connections he could use. He's never taken the bait, but will steer the conversation around to bullshit philosophy instead. He tends to lecture, in a roundabout way, about making changes in one's life, that it's never too late to stop and evaluate what path in life you're on, and that karma can always be added to, no matter what past mistakes a person has made. Crap like that.”

Jack threw in his two credits worth. “Cap'n, sounds to me like he's trying to save Jim here from a life of crime. I think it's sweet.”

I glared at Jack, but he just shot me a blinding grin. The smug son-of-a-bitch.

Banks out-glared me and Jack quit teasing.

I finished the kaffee that was in my mug, and Jack polished off his sandwich.

Banks smoked his cigar, obviously thinking, and when half the cigar had gone to ash he said, a little grimly, “We're going to sweeten the pot, see if we can't get him to ante up. My gut tells me that he's involved; the timing of distribution of Yana just fits too well with his return visits to New Rainier for me to dismiss him. I've seen the numbers, talked to our statisticians. And Jim, you're going to introduce me to your little paragon of virtue. Short of entrapment, we'll see if his halo loses some of that shine you think it has when he's looking at a chance to make serious money. His current connection must not be paying him what he's worth, or he wouldn't be living like you've described.”

“Or else he's really good at hiding it,” Jack added. “I've had access to bank accounts here for some of my other cases, and I've kept an eye out for any money Sandburg might be squirreling away. So far, I haven't found squat on his finances.”

“I'm meeting him for dinner in a couple of hours. And sir, I'll lay one hundred credits on the line that he's not involved in this Yana business.” Banks waved off my offer, but Jack spoke up.

“I'll take that bet. I've looked over the numbers, too, and Jim, I don't believe in coincidences. There's some connection here; we just haven't found it yet.”

Banks glowered at both of us. “Knock it off. Jack, I want a report on your other cases. Ellison, work out a cover story for me because I'm going with you when you see him tonight. I want to dazzle this kid, but not actually entrap him. The D.A. would have my balls if we mucked up this case. What time are you meeting him?”

I left then, to do some ground work for tonight. I was meeting Blair at eight, back at the little bar I'd first had dinner with him. I wished that Banks wasn't coming, that Blair and I could just meet as friends.

Wishes weren't worth anything, though. And I needed to remember that Blair was not my friend.

But I wished he could be.

///

Blair was perched on the stone wall by the bar once again - apparently that was a favorite spot of his - and comfortably dressed in lightweight blue-green trousers that captured the color of the nearby sea. His loose cream colored shirt seemed pretty worn to my eyes, but probably would pass muster to non-sentinel eyes. He'd piled on the bracelets, and earrings glinted through the mess of curls that framed his pretty face.

He looked young and harmless and kind of adorable, and I glanced at Banks, wondering if he had the same impression as me. Well, the harmless and young part, anyway.

Banks was looking him over with narrowed eyes, Blair oblivious to our approach because he had his eyes closed and was listening to music coming from the tavern, fingers moving against his leg in time to the beat.

Deja vu. He'd been doing the same thing the first time I'd spotted him.

We stopped in front of him and I covered his dancing fingers with my hand, stilling them.

He opened his eyes and a smile lit up his face.

“Jim! Hey, thanks for the invite. It's good to see you again, man.”

It had been less than two days since we'd parted but his warm greeting sent urgent messages down to my groin. Yeah. My dick was glad to see him again, too.

Banks crowded in and I stepped back, as my captain introduced himself as a 'businessman.' He mentioned I did some work for him, and that Sandburg's name had been brought up and that he might be able to throw some employment his way.

The emphasis on how he phrased 'employment' and 'work' would have made it clear to a moron what kind of business Banks ran, and Blair was far from being a moron.

Blair swallowed hard and bit his lip while his eyes glanced up and down Bank's tall form. Then he said, brightly, “Uh, Jim, you know I kind of forgot that I need to meet with somebody pretty soon. Maybe it'd be best if you and your boss ate without me, and I'll catch up with you later.”

He used his hands to push himself off the wall, but before he could make his escape with a wave and smile, Banks had him by the arm.

“Oh, no, Mr. Sandburg. I won't hear of you leaving yet. Why, I think once you hear what I'm proposing that you'll find it to your advantage to join my operation. Of course, dinner is on me.”

He fingered Blair's shirt, and said, in a silky tone of voice, “I suspect this is one of your good shirts, correct?” He didn't wait for an answer, but by the flash in Blair's eyes, I could see that it was true, and he'd caught the disdain Banks was projecting about the quality of Blair's clothes.

I could smell fear and anger roiling off Blair, but he kept his face composed.

“I suppose you're going to tell me that you'll buy me better ones, in return for my 'cooperation.' Man, I don't know what Jim told you, but I'm not a cash-boy. I'm just a grad student, and yeah, I'm broke but I'm not so down that I need to sell my ass. So, I don't think we do have any business to discuss, after all.”

He gave me a look of disappointment and freed his arm, attempting to move around Banks.

Banks blocked him and snatched his wrist, turning it so that his tattoo was visible.

“You like being stuck as a bastard cipher, boy? I can offer you a way out. Don't be so quick to assume, either.” He gave Blair's ass a swift caress. “I can see that you're a cute piece of change, but I'll pass. You're not my type.”

Blair's eyes flew to me again, and Banks laughed, genuinely amused, I thought. “Jim's not my type, either. Now let's go inside. I'll explain what I want with you after we eat. And I won't hear of you leaving us until after dessert, Sandburg.” He narrowed his eyes at Blair, and Blair shot a desperate glance at me for help, guidance, rescue - and when I didn't provide it, he slumped a little and allowed Banks to escort him into the bar.

So far, so good. Blair hadn't jumped at the initial opportunity to ally himself with Banks. I could only hope that he would turn down Banks' proposal for him to supply and transport the Yana plants to New Rainier. Banks had to be careful not to directly ask him to do it, but imply that if he was involved in the biz, that he just was given a much better offer.

I followed them into the bar, heading towards the back corner where our conversation would be private and not drowned out by the musicians playing the lively songs that Blair had been enjoying before we showed up.

He wasn't enjoying himself now, judging by the hurt look of betrayal he shot me, as Banks halfway pushed him into a booth, and then slid in next to him.

Banks is a big man, and I knew what he was doing. He was using his size to intimidate Blair. I didn't like it, and I kept my hands curled into fists to keep them from yanking Blair away from Banks.

But I couldn't give in to those impulses. Blair was being tested; I had agreed to this action and now I had to let it run its course.

And hope like hell that the integrity I had laid good money on would hold up in the face of temptation.

///

Jack, who was leaning against a post, gave me an inquiring look, then glanced at Banks when we joined him on the veranda.

“I see it went well. I'll get the Agrasa.” He busied himself with playing host, grabbing glasses and the booze and set it down in easy reach.

Banks and I had dropped into the porch chairs while Jack had gotten the supplies, but I wasn't eager to talk, and apparently Banks wasn't either.

I'd just drunk down half of my glass when Jack broke the silence.

“Well, fill me in. Did he take the bait?” He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“No,” I said, at the same time as Banks replied, “Maybe.”

“Sweet shooting stars, I'm glad you two could clear that up for me,” Jack shot at us.

Banks gave him what I was starting to realize was kind of a trademark glower, but Jack, smart ass that he is, apparently was immune to it.

Banks blew out his breath tiredly. “I played hardball with him, up to a point. I insinuated that I knew what he's been up to, and that he'd go up a couple of pay grades if he threw in with me.”

I sat down my glass. “He didn't know what in the five layers of perdition you were talking about, sir. He just said that stuff at the end to try and appease you. I'm guessing that he thought you were probably going to beat him to a pulp if he outright refused you and told you to get stuffed.”

Banks gave me the glower now, but I was developing my own immunity. Banks had been too quiet on the walk back to Jack's place for me not to have picked up that meeting Sandburg had disturbed him.

“That's why I said 'maybe.' Maybe he's clean and he said he'd consider the offer and get back to me for self protection, and maybe he really is going to consider it.”

I shook my head. “He's a pretty good actor, but I had my senses trained on him, and I don't think he's guilty. You just scared the crap out of him, sir, and since he thinks I threw him to the wolves...” I picked up my glass and tipped it at Banks, then added, “he was just trying to get out of there in one piece.”

“You're not using your suppressants?” Banks sat up from the slouch he'd allowed himself to fall into. “Ellison, are you getting guide vibes from him?”

“It's under control, sir. Bonding with any guide, let alone Sandburg, is out of the question for me. I'll be going back on my meds again soon, anyway. Using my enhanced senses for some of the surveillance was necessary, but I'm not planning on keeping them at this level.”

“You're not a certified sentinel. Your word that Sandburg was confused by me telling him I knew what he was involved in isn't enough to drop him from the investigation. Besides, you're really not trained enough to have that much conviction that he's in the dark about Yana. He could be playing you.”

“So, he's still on the short list for suspects?” Jack asked.

“Yes.” Banks gazed at me with some sympathy. “Although I will say that I hope we're wrong about him. If he's on the level, then he seems like a nice kid. Jim's meeting with him tomorrow, and we'll know more then.”

“What's this meeting about? Or is Jim just taking him out for a date? String him along to keep tabs on him?” Jack asked, no hint of teasing in his voice.

“I'm planning out my next jungle trip. And Blair isn't dating or having sex with anybody right now. He's agreed to celibacy in order to be purified for some of the shamanic rites he's being taught.” I stood up. “I'm calling it a night. I'll report back after meeting with Sandburg in the morning.”

But I didn't meet with him the next day. We'd spooked our quarry and he'd disappeared in the night. And he stayed gone.

So we were left in a quandary about Sandburg's alleged involvement in the Yana trade. That is, until a lucky tip resulted in my arresting him, caught with a cargo hold full of Yana plants, on his way to New Rainier.

Continued in Part Two - A

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