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AVA SPENT the rest of the afternoon getting her new daughter and guest settled in their rooms.
Tommasa was very surprised at the luxurious quarters she had been given. The bedroom was large enough to encompass an ornately carved desk with a built-in comp and several lounge chairs. It also had an attached bathing room which she would share with Francisca who was next door, and a walk-in closet.
“I hope you like the colors,” Aunt Carmen bustled in, followed by Tamara’s dressmaker-bot and the lady herself. who seemed to be attempting to ride herd on the older woman.
Carmen opened the closet, which was devoid of clothing. “Bare!” Carmen said with a snort. “Let’s see those color swatches, Gelica. We’ve got to get this girl some clothes!”
Francisca looked at Ava in surprise. “You name your house-bots?”
“Yes. Mother thinks it makes it easier to tell them apart. What can I say? We’re a little weird that way.”
While the girls were picking out clothing patterns and choosing which materials to feed into the 3-D printer, Carlos, Randal and Devon were on their way home. As soon as they reached the city, Devon and Randal headed for their respective houses. Carlos stopped at his own residence first to clean up before he presented himself at the Garneys.
Although they had been supposed to attend another reception that night, Agustin vetoed it. “No,” he told his wife, “Until we find out who put that viper and the bomb in the carriage, none of us are going anywhere.” He fixed his great aunt with a forbidding stare, “That goes for you as well Aunt Carmen.”
“Augustin, I’ve been my own boss for years now,” Carmen glared back at him. “I can perfectly well decide for myself what I will or won’t do. But as it happens, I agree with you.”
“Besides, Mom,” Ava interjected, “The girls just got out of the hospital. They need a few days rest before you plunge us all into a round of social visits. Gelicia’s good, but they need night clothes as well as other things. She can’t possibly get all the clothes run through the 3-D printer in less than 30 minutes! And I want to know if Carlos found the man he went looking for.”
When Carlos came by the next morning to bid his daughter goodbye, he found her and Tommasa submerged in clothing patterns and material swaths under the benign supervision of Aunt Carmen, Tash, Judith and Ava.
“It’s alright, isn’t it Daddy?” Francisca asked. “Aunt Carmen said it was time I had more grown-up clothes. And Tommasa doesn’t have any either.”
He looked a little dazed at the information unloaded on him. “Who is Aunt Carmen?” he finally asked.
“Well, she’s really Tommasa and Ava’s aunt but she told me to call her that.”
“I’m Carmen,” he was told by the elderly woman helping the girls pick out styles.
“Ah—hello,” he said. “Certainly, my daughter can have new clothes. Just be sure to send me a bill for it.”
“That’s very sensible of you, young man,” Carmen told him, while Francisca threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you agree. Now girls, I think this style will be suitable for learning to fight and shoot.”
He looked over at Ava. “She won’t help her pick out something outrageous, will she?”
Ava grinned at him. “Probably, but your daughter is growing up. She needs to learn to make her own clothing choices sooner or later.”
“Where are you going today?” Agustin asked, shepherding him out of the fitting room.
Carlos cast a hunted look over his shoulder but decided not to interfere with his daughter’s choice of new clothes.
“Ah—we planned to take a run down to Dancing Beach. According to the property records Randal and Devon found, Redglove has property down there. It’s also where the Housekeeper said his wife was. I’m hoping she will be willing to give us more information about where to find him.”
“We expect to be updated after each stage of your hunt,” Ava had followed them out of the room. “It makes your daughter anxious if she doesn’t know what’s going on. That’s not fair to her.”
Carlos and Agustin both looked unhappy at this. “He might not have time to check in after every movement, Ava,” Agustin protested,
“Then he damn well better find the time,” she retorted, glaring at Carlos.
“I’ll try my best; will that do?” he promised.
“I suppose it will have to,” she agreed grudgingly.
It was late afternoon when the three sleds crested the hills leading down into the delta. They had followed the Parchester River down its last winding leg to where it met the ocean. The Parchester was fed by many tributary rivers as it made its journey to the sea, and by the time it reached its destination, it was almost 64 KM across.
To one side of the mighty river where it joined the sea, a pristine beach met the shoreline. Drawn by the sight of the Dancing Whisps at morning and evening, it was here that the colonists created one of the main recreation areas on the planet. As befitted a tourist town, the city boasted lots of take-out eateries, sandwich bars and cafés, which offered a plethora of culinary choices. Tourists who weren’t hungry enjoyed the beach, water sports, art galleries or one of the many other recreational venues.
“I’ve got to bring Tash to see this before we go home,” Devon vowed. “It’s fantastic!”
He was looking at the crowded beach filled with people in various stages of undress, as they played in the waves or sunbathed.
Carlos snorted. “It’s quite a scene. Gillian, my first wife and I came here on our honeymoon.”
“That was Francisca’s mother?” Randal asked.
Carlos nodded. “Yes, I lost her in a sled accident when Francisca was three. She was carrying our second child. We lost him too. And what she would say to me about not protecting our daughter better doesn’t bear thinking about.”
“How could you know the Red Conclave would order one of their soldiers to kidnap your daughter?” Devon protested.
Carlos sighed. “I should have though; I’d been receiving threats for weeks. I couldn’t allow the threats to stop me, but I should have taken precautions to protect my daughter.”
“Hindsight is always twenty-twenty,” Randal reminded him. “We got her back and now you can take those steps.”
“Not to change the subject, but Redglove’s house is supposed to be in someplace called Carnelian Heights. Any idea where that is?”
“It’s this way,” Carlos turned his sled, avoiding the traffic crush near the shore and headed down the beach. Several kilometers from the beach play area, the shore turned into A high-end community with magnificent homes, mostly owned by the very affluent. Redglove’s home retained the octagon shape set on a plasticrete slab, supported by pilons which could be raised during high water caused by a storm surge coming in off the sea. Like most of the houses in the area, it was surrounded by a tall white wall designed to keep out Barsoom's aggressive flora. Robot gardeners tended the extensive gardens and worked in the houses. supervised by human servants.
Carlos stopped at the gate and pinged the entry buzzer.
Since all three men were tuned to the same wavelength, they saw the smooth face of a robot butler who asked, “How may I help you?”
“I need to speak to Mrs. Redglove,” Carlos replied.
“I see. May I ask what this is about?”
“I’ll tell her that,” Carlos replied, keeping his voice civil. “It’s a private matter.”
“I see,” the robotic voice showed no emotion. “I’m sorry, but Mrs. Redglove had a luncheon engagement in town, and she isn’t back yet. If you give me your com information, I will tell her you called.”
“Very well,” Carlos gave it to him, and turned his sled away. He parked his sled out of sight of the house and got out. Devon and Randal landed and dismounted.
“What do you think?” Randal asked. “Is she there and not receiving visitors, or did she really have a lunch date?”
“My scanner didn’t read any trace of human life signs,” Devon reported checking his tab.
“Could she have the scanner blocked?” Randal asked.
“After Judith told us it couldn’t scan through the basement at the plantation, I up-graded the program. It should go through any blockers,” Devon replied.
“There is one more address we can check,” Devon offered. “I had the search program running last night and it came up with an address owned by a shell company with ties to Redglove. It's up in the Rainbow Mountains though.”
“Let’s see it,” Carlos said.
The Great Rainbow Range was one of three chains of mountains running in a zig-zag pattern down the spine of Treamamas from the northern edge to the long-tailed south. The ranges didn’t connect with each other, being separated by expanses of prairies, valleys and deserts as well as the tropical rain forests near the equator. Neither were they one huge land mass, being broken up by smaller valleys with airable land suitable for farming and ranching.
Devon’s topographical map showed Redglove’s next safe house was nestled in one of these valleys at the base of a tall basalt mountain. The mountain behind the safe house was covered in a deciduous forest of broadleaf trees, varying in height from very tall to short and scrubby, their growth stinted by lack of sunlight.
It was nearly dark when the posse set their sleds down in a small glen close enough to the safe house to lock into its com system, but too far away to be seen.
“I’ve got room for all of us to sleep in my sled,” Carlos offered. I even have an air mattress for the cargo area. It won’t be like home but at least we’ll be dry and warm. The sled even has a small microwave.”
“Yes, but we need food to cook in it,” Devon pointed out.
“Check you saddle bags,” Randal suggested. Taking his own advice, he pulled out several packets of the types of pre-packaged meals favored by the Blue Moon Militia on earth.
Devon did the same, and he too found his significant other had stocked his bags with food.
“How did you know this stuff would be there?” he asked.
“I told Judith about the meals we ate that time we stopped at the Militia’s safe house. I know she wrote Tash asking if she could bring some of them with you when you came.”
“What have you got?” Carlos asked, eyeing the packages.
Sitting cross-legged on the air-mattress, Randal spread out the bounty. “It looks as if she included breakfast, lunch and dinner for at least three days,” he said. “With this stuff, we won’t even need your cooking toy.”
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