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assume you will be watching in any event, just in case this
mystery man puts in some sort of clandestine appearance. I feel quite
safe. It was a pleasure talking with you."
He made pleasantries in response, not bothering to deny what she
had said since it was so obviously the truth. Still, the idea that
the Dutchman, the real
Dutchman, would expose himself anywhere near a full military base and
con-ventional spaceport was almost laughable.
As she shambled across the floor, vaporizing vermin as she went, he could see
eyes following her from the dark-ened booths and private alcoves. These were a
smart lot, though; they wouldn't put their necks in a noose by so ob-viously
following her out. Even so, he almost wished one would.
While the Dutchman might not show up, somebody claiming to be him sure
could. Who would know? The Dutchman was only a name and a colorful hologram
on the radar screens. The name registered as several people from the distant
past, but which, if any, of them it might have been was
unknown. Those who had seen him and lived had seen only a darkened bubble on
an environ-mental suit.
There was even a theory that the Dutchman didn't exist at all, that it was
just a cover name for a whole range of pirates and scoundrels who had imitated
a trademark modus operandi and used it as an extra mask of concealment.
Certainly there was some evidence for this; the same Dutchman who had been a
cruel killer at one instance had been a polite and even noble thief at
another. The only way to know for sure would be to blow him to hell and
then see if "the Dutchman" showed up again.
He put his hand to his jaw and pressed in a certain spot. "Duty," came a
distant, thin voice in his ear, and only in his ear.
"Old woman leaving the Cuca, full dress and veil, slow as molasses," he
whispered in a voice so low it probably couldn't be understood a meter or two
away. "Put surveillance monitors on her the moment she comes out the
front door and follow her progress. Prepare to move in if anyone
approaches her. She thinks shes here to meet the Dutchman."
'
"The Dutchman! Ha! Okay, will do. Is she out yet?"
"Just about. You should see her on the street about ...
now.
"
"Yeah, got her," responded the duty officer. "Let me do a scan."
There was a pause, then, "Wow! She's got a fortune in electronics inside
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that rag!"
"Well, she's got a personal force field."
"She's got a lot more than that. The readings here are very strong.
She's got some kind of weaponry, some ro-botic augmentation, and she's
radiating shit like a deep space probe. Infrared, UV, sonics you name it. I
wish I had a ship that well equipped!
The Navy intelligence man turned to the bartender. "I'll get somebody else to
cover in here. I think
I should take a little walk myself."
"Yeah? You really think she's gonna meet the Dutchman?"
"I dunno, but she's too smart and too well equipped to walk in here blindly
and then leave so meekly."
He made the exit a lot faster than she had, but she was still gone from
immediate view. "Where away?" he asked the duty officer.
"Two blocks to your left, then down one. She walked a lot faster once she
turned the corner.
Now she seems stopped, like she's waiting for a pickup."
"Get me an unmarked tail car," the Navy man ordered. "Have it ready in case we
need to give some chase here. If she gets picked up by anybody except a limo
or a service taxi I think I want to see who and what are really under that
veil and dress."
"You always did lust after older women, didn't you? I've got one on the way.
Looks like we won't make it for a complete intercept, but I can keep her on
the trace long enough. She's got her ride.
Looks like an ordinary cab but she didn't flag it or call it, at least not on
any public fre-quency we know."
"Got it! Stay on her!" He rounded the corner to see her suddenly and spryly
entering the cab and the door sliding hut. It was off like a shot, not even
waiting for her to belt in, which was another clue that this wasn't just an
ordinary fare.
Almost immediately the tail car pulled up to him, door already
open. He jumped in and was thrown back against the seat much as the old
lady, if indeed that was what she was, must have been.
The cab was out of sight, but the tail car was accelerating rapidly, making it
tough for him to turn and press the controls that strapped him in for the
ride.
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