Free Counterweight by A. G. Claymore

Bel intoned.
    “One day soon…” the rest replied.
    They bent their knees slightly just before the hinged floor
dropped open. It was the same method the vehicle employed to drop its cargoes
of metal.
    The conspirators landed easily on the platform and walked
off to the lockers without another word.

Following the Scent
    Tsekoh, Capital of Chaco Benthic
    G raadt
was impressed with the young Tauhentan at the reception desk. He was clearly
afraid of the three approaching stoners, yet he still left his seat in an
attempt to impede their progress toward the spicewood doors.
    Still, bravery was the bare minimum, as far as Graadt was
concerned, and it didn’t entitle the receptionist to any special treatment. The
big stoner reached up and closed his hand over the Tauhentan’s face, shoving
him back toward the doors. His second and third finger tips pressed into the
young man’s eyes, ensuring rapid progress.
    He slammed his victim into the doors with enough force to
overcome their electromagnetic closers and sent him sprawling into the office.
A surprised hiss came from the right and he turned to see two young men and a
woman standing in the middle of a large holo display.
    “I see G’Min has taken our little chat to heart,” the
better-dressed of the two men mused as he walked over to help the receptionist
up.
    Graadt had always liked Tauhentans. They were generally a
straight-forward people and they could handle themselves in a fight. They were
good at assessing tactical situations and tended to favor courage in their
responses.
    This one was obviously no stranger to stoners. He knew he’d
be given the opportunity to look after his people. “I’m G’Mal,” he said before
nodding at the others in the room, “and they aren’t G’Mal.” He raised his
eyebrows at Graadt.
    Graadt nodded at Kaans and Nid by the door. The two stepped
apart, letting G’Mal’s employees leave. As the last of them left, they swung
the doors shut.
    Graadt wanted to know if the Human had been here but he
didn’t want to lead off with that question. If he came back, he might learn
that the stoners were on his trail. Better to make it one small question in the
shadow of a much more alarming one. He grinned. For a Tauhentan smuggler who’d
hit the big time, there was one question that struck fear.
    What was the source of his wealth?
    “We know about the wood.” He made a show of sniffing the
air. “You don’t hide your secrets very well, do you? It smells like a
plantation timber mill in here.”
    A shrug. “There’s a lot of cheap wood in the city lately.”
G’Mal waved at the door. “The old man thought it would convince folks that
we’re the source.”
    A lie. Graadt was certain of that but it was a pretty good
one, as lies went. What kind of fool would have such doors if he really was the
source? They were trying to hide in plain sight. He decided to give the
smuggler one more thing to distract him from the true object of this visit.
    “The place we just came from is bringing in a lot of wood,”
he allowed, “but we saw nothing large enough to make these doors.” There was no
such place – Graadt had invented it on the spot – but sometimes you needed to
throw another carnivore in the ring to get things moving.
    He fought to keep his amusement from showing at the surprise
on the Tauhentan’s face. Hearing they may not be the only source of cheap
spicewood was obviously a shock but he recovered quickly.
    “They do special orders,” G’Mal offered, “for people who
don’t mind paying in advance.”
    Graadt nodded, smiling. He was certain, now, that they had
the right place. He liked this smuggler well enough but he didn’t want to spend
all day fencing with words.
    He took a quick step forward rotating his torso to add force
to the punch as he drove his fist into the smuggler’s belly. The scent of tea
and liquor reaqched his nostrils as the man doubled over.
    Kaans and Nid grabbed G’Mal by the arms and pulled