Free Ambassador 4: Coming Home by Patty Jansen Page B

interesting to see where this whole bug network goes. It links up with bugs in the council chamber and the Exchange.
    “Why? What does she have to do with the Barresh council?”
    Thayu shrugged. Sheydu shrugged, too, but clearly the idea worried her. This was Delegate Ayanu Azimi, who had put her name forward for the position of Chief Delegate and had been voted down in what had had been, all things considered, a fairly tame election.
    Interesting, if not what we were looking for. We considered going to the Aghyrian compound, although we would probably need a more solid reason to get a reply out of them.
    “We should check the airport,” Thayu said. I could hit myself in the head for not having thought to do that yet.
    It was only a short walk down Market Street, across the main square where the stately, beautifully restored building of the Exchange looked out over a large public space dotted with trees and eateries. A good number of people were going in and out of the glass-fronted airport building, and I could see them going up and down the moving stairways inside.
    We entered through the commercial foyer down the side into an airy hall where merchants and Traders were using check-in and goods declaration processes on the workstations scattered throughout the hall.
    The far side of the foyer also consisted of a glass wall. It provided a view over the wide expanse of the tarmac. The public area was to the right, where I could just see a small piece of the modern terminal building, but all of the space directly ahead was taken up by private craft, most of them commercial.
    I looked over the sea of varied aircraft, glittering in the bright sunlight. “Does anyone know which is Federza’s?”
    “The one over there.” Sheydu pointed.
    The craft in question was a solid, Asto-built model commonly used by private businesses. It stood at the far end of the private parking area.
    When I held up my reader and magnified the view through the lens, I could make out the symbol of the Trader Guild on the side, together with the number I’d seen many times on the golden medallion that Federza wore: 8953.
    Sheydu had gone to one of the workstations in the hall. I went to stand next to her. “What are you doing?”
    “The craft is in location 743. I’m looking up how long it has been there.” She pointed at the screen. “This one here.”
    The craft had arrived at the spot more than four weeks ago, before the day that Federza had been shot at. It hadn’t moved since. Moreover, Federza also hadn’t accessed his refuelling or cargo account.
    I let out an exclamation. “Shit.”
    We exchanged worried glances.
    “Does Federza have any friends?”
    “One would think so,” Sheydu said, although she sounded doubtful.
    “None that have missed him or could have reported him missing?”
    Thayu spread her hands. “I don’t like him. You don’t like him. I don’t know that all that many people like him outside the Aghyrian compound, and if he’s fallen out with them . . .”
    “So what are we supposed to do about it? Do we ask the Aghyrians?”
    Sheydu snorted. “They would be the first ones to know where he is. If they haven’t been asking around for him, they probably know where he is, and I doubt they want to share it.”
    “True.” But damn it, how could someone just vanish like that in a city as closely watched as Barresh? “What would happen if we went to the town guards and reported him missing?”
    She spread her hands. “They’re pretty incompetent but I don’t know that it would do any harm as such.”
    “There might already be a record for the case. Otherwise we create one by reporting it. If the guards have a record, it will be someone’s responsibility to do something about it.”
    “Don’t hold your breath,” Sheydu said.
    Thayu, however, agreed with me. “I don’t think they’ll solve the problem, but once the record exists there is a case until he turns up. If nothing else, it provides proof