The Collapsing Empire (The Interdependency #1)(54)

Pinton smiled slightly at that. “I will take the lady’s word for that,” he said. “However, in this case, the problem is not the passenger being eccentric, but the passenger methodically casing the ship.” Pinton picked up his own tablet and sent video to the one Kiva was holding. In the video, a man was walking through the ship corridors, looking around.

“Oh my God, this man is walking, let’s kill him,” Kiva said.

“It’s not that he’s walking, it’s where he’s walking. He’s not wandering the ship randomly or generally. He’s going into areas relating to engineering, propulsion, and life support management.”

“So, only to those places?”

“No,” Pinton said. “He goes other places as well. But these are the places he’s come back to. He doesn’t come in far and he never stays long. But he comes back.”

“Why don’t you have the passengers on a fucking lockdown?” Kiva asked, setting down the tablet. “We don’t need these assholes wandering the ship anyway.”

“That was our original plan, and in fact our passengers have already been given a list of areas they are absolutely not allowed to go into.”

“Which this guy ignores.”

“No, but he’s come close. But he’s not focused, say, on Engineering directly. He’s focused on places on the ship where it might be easy to disrupt engineering systems.”

“Which brings me back to my first fucking question, Pinton.”

Pinton waggled the tablet he held in his hand. “We didn’t lock them down entirely because one of our crew recognizes this man, and we wanted to see what he might be up to.”

“Which rich asshole is he?”

“That’s just it. The crew person says he’s not a rich asshole. He’s someone who works for a rich asshole.”

“Which crew member said this?”

“A new purser named Kristian Jensen. I understand you know him.”

“And who does he say this dude worked for?”

“Ghreni Nohamapetan.”

“Get him in here now,” Kiva said.

*

“So, I used to work for the family of the Count of Claremont,” Jensen began.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Kiva said, exasperatedly. “Lord Marce, everyone in this room knows you’re you.”

“I wasn’t sure,” Marce said.

“Well, now you are, so get on with it.”

Marce nodded. “I didn’t have a lot of contact with Lord Ghreni, but I’d see him sometimes at court functions at the duke’s, and other events and parties where the presence of a noble was considered a plus. Ghreni was one of those nobles who would travel with an entourage of friends and employees.” He pointed at Pinton’s tablet. “This was one of the employees. Former military, working for Ghreni as a bodyguard.”

“You’re sure about that,” Blinnikka asked Marce.

“I’m sure,” Marce said. “Vrenna pointed him out to me once. He and she were in the same unit for a while. Said he was a competent solider but a shit human being and that at one point she nearly fed him his testicles because he kept propositioning her in the barracks. Every time I saw him since I imagined his own balls in his mouth.”

“That’s a lovely image,” Kiva said.

“When I saw him in the passenger ring section, I checked in with security.” Marce nodded to Pinton.

“I assume this asshole is traveling on fake documents,” Kiva said, to Pinton.

“Yes,” Pinton confirmed. “For our records he’s Tysu Gouko. Bear in mind we gave him that particular fake identity, so we can’t really hold it against him. But he presented himself as a franchisee of the House of Sykes, when he came to us. Name of Frinn Klimta.”

“Is there a real Frinn Klimta?”

“Maybe? We didn’t check. We didn’t believe you cared, ma’am, as long as their money was real, and it was.”

Kiva turned to Marce. “What’s this asshole’s real name?”

“His personal name is Chat. His family name I think is Ubdal. Or Uttal. One of the two.”

“Any idea why he’s here?”

“I have no idea,” Marce said. “But if he came to you with an already fake identity, I think that’s enough for you to be suspicious.”

“When did he book passage?” Kiva asked Pinton.

“Just before we left. He was one of the last people we booked. Magnut charged him a late fee of a quarter million marks.”

Kiva pointed at Marce. “So that would have been after you were kidnapped.”

Marce nodded. “Yes.”

“He one of the guys who grabbed you?”

“No. I definitely would have remembered that.”

“So he doesn’t know who you are right now.”

“I don’t know. Probably not. He hasn’t responded to me yet.”

“But he would recognize you out of this disguise.”

“Yes.”

Kiva reached over to Marce, grabbed his hair, and tugged. Marce yelped in pain and surprise. “Stop it! It doesn’t just come off. You have to dissolve the glue.”

“Where is this asshole now?” Kiva asked Pinton.