The third person stood half again as tall as either man and wore solid black that clung to chiseled muscles.
Prodded by instinct Taz had learned to listen to, she had her suit scan the open storage unit while she asked their names.
The young-looking, pretty man hesitated, then pointed to himself. “I am Bagutar Po.” His accent hinted at Mandarin as a primary language. He tilted his head toward the others. “She’s Pelvannor. I don’t know him.”
The executive man smiled nervously. “I’m Xolor Stramlo. What are the odds that Mr. Po and his bodyguard would also be in the facility so early? Very lucky, ja?”
It wasn’t Taz’s business that both Po and Stramlo were mixing truth and lies, but it made her want to get out all the faster.
Pelvannor, who wore a heavy-looking backpack, watched both men closely, with occasional assessing glances toward Taz and the now-grounded airsled. Her silver eyebrows and very short dusting of silver hair stood out against her cool brown skin. The bodyguard part was likely the truth, considering Taz’s sifter sense told her the woman was a ramper, a minder who could augment her body’s strength and speed using her talent.
Stramlo’s smile faded to a disapproving frown. “What’s that dog doing here?”
Moyo, wearing her official GSAR harness and multi-pocketed utility vest, padded toward the men. She unexpectedly swerved and approached Pelvannor. The woman’s watchful expression didn’t change, but Taz saw the subtle outstretch of fingers toward the dog. Moyo saw it, too, and sidled closer.
Rylando appeared in the airsled’s open doorway. “She’s doing her job, checking for people who need help.” He used the determinedly patient tone he reserved for children throwing tantrums.
Taz struggled to keep a smile off her face.
Po sneered. “We’re fine, and will be leav…” His words trailed off as he looked down the hall. “What did you do to the lift?”
Blame-finders like Po weren’t worth arguing with. “Grounded. We can take you up in the airsled.”
“No.” Po turned and reseated the pack on his shoulders. “We’ll take the lift at the other end.”
“That whole end of the building is zeroed,” said Rylando. He pointed a thumb back to the open shaft. “You’re welcome to climb the service ladder if you don’t want to ride with us.” He held out his arm and keyed his percomp. “Just state your names again and tell us for the record you’re refusing our help, and we’ll be on our way.”
After a long moment, Po’s chin jutted out imperiously. “We will ride.” He waved limp fingers toward Stramlo. “Perhaps you should seal your storage unit.”
“My what?” Stramlo blinked. “Oh, yes, of course. Can’t be too careful these days.” He crossed to the wallcomp and entered two codes and a biometric. The door iris closed. “There. All set.” He slapped his hands together like he’d performed a feat of manual labor.
Moyo trotted to the airsled and jumped in.
Rylando’s tone sounded in her earwire. “I need your help rearranging the crates.”
Taz didn’t like leaving her suit with strangers, but the sooner they got it done, the sooner they could leave. She retracted the armor and stepped down.
Stramlo glanced at the clock display on the wall, then frowned and raised his arm to look at the elegant bracelet-style percomp on his wrist. “The display is off by seven minutes and nineteen seconds.”
Po rolled his eyes as she walked by.
As she approached the airsled, Taz heard Rylando tell his passenger to stand outside for a minute.
The girl stepped down, clutching her coat, shuffling away from the airsled. She peeked warily at the adults from around the edge of her hood.
Taz turned to look at them and caught surprise and consternation on Stramlo’s face. Po’s nostrils twitched and his jaw tightened.
Stramlo glanced uneasily toward Po, then focused his gaze on his daughter and swallowed. “Jhidelle. I was worried about you.”
A blind mole rat could have seen that he wasn’t in the least pleased to see her.
“Hallo, Vater.” Her greeting to her father sounded very polite. A tiny ginger-colored head with ears big enough to fly with appeared between the lapels of her coat. “I’m sorry I disobeyed you and brought my pets.” Without taking her eyes off her father, she gently coaxed the little animal back inside her coat.
Taz grabbed the rail and swung up into the airsled, pretending she hadn’t sensed all the lies. Get the lifesigns out and move on.
Inside the airsled, Rylando was encouraging Shen into Moyo’s crate. “Even if I put all the animals in Moyo’s crate, and abandon the rest, it’s still not enough room for four humans.”
“I can carry the empty crates.” She touched her earwire and subvocalized her next words. “The adults are spiky. It’s not a happy family reunion.”
He touched his earwire. “Agreed, but we can’t leave them. Otak says the storage unit reeks of explosives. So do the adults, but that could be because they were in the storage unit for so long.”
She released Moyo’s large crate from its holdfasts and put it in the doorway. “How did Otak get close enough… Oh, I get it. You put him in Moyo’s saddlebags. Clever.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Not enough evidence to Section 79-A the adults. And I don’t want to leave the kid with them.”
“Yeah, they haven’t threatened our safety, and law enforcement isn’t our job.” He stood with his hands on his hips, frowning at the crates as he spoke out loud. “Damnit. We’re going to have to make two trips.”
A solution occurred to her, but he probably wouldn’t go for it, since it meant being separated from his animals. “If you keep Mariposa and Otak with you, I could carry two crates with the rest of your team.” She pointed a thumb toward the door. “You fly our targets up. I’ll take the ladder.”
Instead of shutting her down, his eyes narrowed in thought. “They mass almost two hundred kilos with their crates. Can you handle that?”
“My suit can carry twice that. Size and weight distribution will be a problem, though. Could we put Moyo in Shen’s crate, and the rest in Lerox’s?”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “They won’t like it, but they’ll put up with it if I reward them later.”
Warmed by his trust, she held four fingers over her heart. “Your team is safe with me.”
He stilled and met her eyes, his expression serious. “I know. You’re the best rescuer Unit 1051 has ever had.”
Taz’s heart skipped a beat. She turned away quickly before she did something stupid, like reach out to him. Desperate for distraction, she picked up Moyo’s empty crate. “I can strap this to the airsled’s roof if we leave both sets of doors open a crack.” She didn’t dare look at him again until her stupid heart faced reality for once. His words were a frickin’ performance review, not a declaration of undying love.
“That would be good. Big crates are expensive.” His voice sounded matter of fact, so she must not have given her turmoil away.
It only took a couple of minutes to run out one of the sled’s many straps and secure the sturdy crate to the roof. It made the airsled look like a frontier planet’s rural transport kludge, but it didn’t have to stay there for long.