The Blackcollar Read Online Free PDF Page A

ended, but I don't recall his name. You know who I mean?"
    Galway frowned back. "Umm. Maybe you mean General Lepkowski? He was in command of this sector when it fell."
    "Could be. I remember thinking the name was Vladimirian sounding."
    "Seems to me Lepkowski was from Vladimir, come to think of it. But I'm afraid you're out of luck again—he died during the war."
    Caine's stomach knotted. "You sure?" he asked as casually as possible.
    "Yes. He was caught in his command center when the Groundfire attack demolished it, or so the story goes." Galway paused, as if thinking. "I don't know anyone else off hand who might have the kind of information you're looking for. A lot of people here lived through the war—I did, myself—but none of them knew much about the big picture."
    "Well, maybe I'll look some of them up anyway." For the first time Caine noticed a slight tightness in his chest and a faint rasping in his voice. "I should be able to get something out of it—the little guy's point of view, maybe."
    "What's wrong with your voice?" Galway asked abruptly. His hand, which had been reaching for the elevator call button, moved instead to a supportive grip on Caine's arm, and he frowned into the other's face.
    "I don't know." The rasp was getting louder, and the first stabs of pain were beginning to intrude on Caine's breathing.
    "I do." Still holding Caine's arm, the prefect half led, half dragged him to a refreshment station at the end of the corridor. With one hand he dialed for a cup of water; with the other he deftly reached into Caine's jacket pocket and pulled out the vial of pills. Handing Caine the water, he glanced at the vial's label and tapped two of the capsules into his hand. "Take these," he ordered.
    Caine did so. He very much wanted to sit down, but there were no chairs or benches in the hallway and Galway didn't seem inclined to help him into one of the nearby offices. Fortunately, though, the medicine worked fast, and within a few minutes he was able to let go of Galway's arm. "I'm okay now," he nodded, taking an experimental breath. The pain was gone, the rasping nearly so. "Thanks."
    "My pleasure." He handed Caine the vial. "I'd assumed you'd taken your medicine before landing, or I would've had you do it when you went through customs. I presume you'll be less forgetful in the future."
    "You bet," Caine assured him. "What the hell was that, anyway?"
    "Tormatyse asthma. Affects about three percent of the offworlders that come here. It's caused by something in the air—I'm not sure what—but it's pretty harmless as long as you take a daily dose of histrophyne. You feel ready to travel yet?"
    "Sure."
    Galway led the way back to the elevators, and minutes later Caine was standing by the building's main entrance, a thick packet in his hand. "Your luggage should already be in your hotel room," Galway told him. "We only have one guest hotel in the Hub—the Coronet—so I took the liberty of sending your things there."
    "Fine." They'd no doubt searched his things en route, but there wasn't anything incriminating for them to find. As far as Caine was concerned, the sooner Security came to the conclusion that Alain Rienzi was an honest—if not overly bright—member of the government, the better. "Thanks for all your help, Prefect. I expect I'll be seeing you again."
    Galway smiled. "Very likely. Enjoy your stay, Mr. Rienzi."
     
    The Coronet, while probably run-of-the-mill as government hotels went, was the most luxurious Caine had ever seen. His room boasted a full-sized bed with sleepset and fantistim attachments, a private bathroom, room service conveyor, and an entertainment center that even included a computer terminal.
    He unpacked carefully, storing his clothing in the walk-in closet and the drawers built into the bed frame. As he worked he kept an eye out for hidden cameras or bugs, but didn't spot any. Not that it mattered—he knew the bugs were there somewhere, but he wouldn't be doing any important