Galactic Bounty Read Online Free PDF Page B

disappearance our people have gone through his personal affairs with a fine-tooth comb."
    "God knows they've had plenty of time to do it," McCade interjected sweetly.
    "And," the naval officer continued, pointedly ignoring McCade's jibe, "they inform me Bridger may have stumbled onto something. He was forever poking around the artifact planets while on leave, publishing articles on his pet archeological theories, and boring everybody to death at the officers' club. Anyway there's the possibility that he's come up with something of military value . . . and is planning to hand it over to the Il Ronn in order to gain their cooperation."
    "Is that possible?" McCade asked, one eyebrow raised.
    The other man shrugged. "Anything's possible, I guess. But people have been messing about with those planets for years and never discovered anything useful in the military sense. It's probably a good idea to remember the man's a bit eccentric, to say the least. Anyway, I'll get you access to what information we've got, and you can decide for yourself if it means something."
    Both men were silent for a moment. McCade tried to sort out his feelings. On the one side was the Empire's cynical balancing of forces and the ruthless sacrifice of innocent lives. On the other was a single renegade officer whose desire for revenge might touch off an interstellar conflict that would destroy billions of lives. The whole thing was sick.
    McCade's thoughts were interrupted as an autocart rolled into the room on silent treads. "I took the liberty of ordering a late lunch for both of us," Swanson-Pierce said.
    As the cart rolled up to the naval officer's desk and began disgorging dishes of food, McCade said, "All right, I'm convinced. But how am I supposed to succeed where your spooks and gumshoes haven't?"
    "Well," the other man replied mildly, helping himself to a cup of fragrant New Indian tea, "it's true we haven't found Bridger yet, but I remain confident we will. You are by way of, ah, insurance. A weapon, if you will, that happened to be in the right place at the right time. Besides, from what I hear, you're reasonably good at what you do." Swanson-Pierce blew steam off the surface of the dark blue tea with evident satisfaction. Looking up, he said, "Actually our people have learned quite a bit. It occurred to Admiral Keaton that their knowledge, combined with your rather gruesome talents, might very well lead to success. Quite frankly your, ah, profession should provide a perfect cover, allowing you to pursue paths of investigation not open to our personnel." Swanson-Pierce sipped his tea delicately, gazing at McCade with an innocent expression.
    "And of course if I happen to get killed, it's no great loss . . . and nobody's likely to complain," McCade said, selecting three of the four sandwiches on the autocart.
    "Well, yes, there is that of course," Swanson-Pierce replied serenely. "Though I suspect any number of creditors would grieve your passing." He picked up the remaining sandwich and examined it critically prior to taking a tentative bite. The Lor Beast had been cooked rare the way he liked it, and had traveled well from Asta II.
    With his free hand he punched a button in the armrest of his chair, and once again the holo tank swirled into life. This time it displayed the likeness of a young woman dressed in the uniform of a cadet squadron leader. She was cute, rather than pretty. Short black hair cut in the style approved by the Academy framed an elfin face. Brown eyes regarded the camera with indifference.
    "I give up . . .. Who is she?" McCade asked, his mouth full of the second sandwich.
    "Cadet Squadron Leader Marsha Votava," Swanson-Pierce answered. "When Bridger left, he evidently took her with him."
    "She left of her own accord?" McCade asked, studying the face that stared back at him from the holo.
    Swanson-Pierce nodded. "It would seem so. There's no sign of violence in her quarters. Six weeks haven't turned up her body, or