Elemorts

Chapter VI - Under the Radar

"What can I do for you, Mr. Rench?" the customs officer asked in a tone that suggested he did not want to do much.

"I want to know where the spacecraft Knight and Steed will land. I shall also need to see its cargo manifest and the manifests of the shuttle carriers it will be unloaded to."

The customs officer, a portly man with a thick, oily mustache, wrinkled his forehead. "The manifests are not public property, sir, as a man of your station must be aware. Whatever do you want them for?"

"One wants cargo manifests to know what goods are being transported, as a man of your station must be aware."

"I'd sooner attend other, more important matters, sir, if you don't wish to answer my question," the officer said flatly.

You ask too many questions, Zablaron thought as he shifted the wearisome, thick-rimmed spectacles he wore. "As I said, I am from the Metalloy Health Department, and I currently reside at the Metalloy Embassy on Karomoz, working in close collaboration with the Karomozian government." Zablaron had hoped that marching into the spaceport from that oh-so-secret tunnel meant that he could order these fools about as he pleased, but as it turned out, this man was way too wary. "There is a serious health concern which I am here to investigate."

"What health concern is that, may I ask, that you will address by poking into cargo manifests? Is it your unhealthy amount of curiosity?" the customs officer asked ever so innocently, gently placing his hands on his desk. Zablaron had never liked these slimy Karomozians.

Zablaron ran a hand through his hair. "If you ever leave this office of yours, you may have heard about a deadly epidemic that has broken out on Karomoz and several other planets, including Metallon. No one is sure if they are isolated cases or if they share a common source. I am just here to make sure the common source is not Metallon. There are several spacecraft from Metallon that are suspected of cheating out of having regular disinfection. The Knight and Steed is one of them. I want to know where in Karomoz its cargo is distributed so I can investigate if the epidemic broke out in those areas."

The customs officer considered Zablaron for a moment with black, beady eyes. "I don't recall seeing you here ever before, nor have I ever heard about you. Only the most frequent visitors to Karomoz know about the VIP tunnel. How did you come to know about it?"

As Ferrina had revealed to Zablaron, the common citizens knew only two ways of going to or from the spaceport — shuttle aircraft or ferries. There was, however, a third way, known only to the most distinguished of dignitaries. An eight-mile-long, underwater tube ran from the spaceport to an isolated airstrip on the mainland.

Zablaron's small space cruiser had landed directly onto the airstrip, and then it was a half-an-hour ride through the tube to the spaceport. The tunnel had split into a dozen different directions, most branches leading directly to the multiple aprons at the spaceport. Zablaron had continued to the cargo terminal and had taken an elevator. It had emerged into a panel in the office.

"You forget your station, sir," Zablaron said, bristling. "I came from that tunnel — that is enough for the likes of you to know. If I have to put up with another of your pointless questions, I will have to notify your superiors you are obstructing an investigation into a critical health concern." The officer was putting up too much resistance. He is in on the smuggling — he fears I will find out. "I would have just had one look at the manifests, and I would have been out of your hair and on my way. But it looks like I will have to be your guest here until the authorities arrive."

That seemed to smooth out a few wrinkles in the officer's forehead. "Alright, Mr. Rench, but don't take your time," he said warily.

As the officer tapped a few times, Zablaron took off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt before deciding he could not let his guard down even here on Karomoz and immediately put them back on.