by Pam Uphoff
"No." The old wisdom said. "I don't trust him, he's compromised. I don't trust him."
Xaero eyed him curiously. He was tall, even with a stoop, and had probably once been bulky and muscular. Now he was stringy, and his broad shoulders bony. His scales were dark, the faintest hint of gold showing where the light hit, his spines were pure black.
"I'm not really in the group," she said. "But I have a number I could try."
"Good. I will find you again." He retreated suddenly and was first off as the train halted at the next station.
Xaero moved to get off too, but seeing him dart rapidly up the steps knew she'd never catch him with the crowd in between. She got off instead at the next station and climbed to the street level, where her comm would pick up a microwave signal, digging for Captain W'ufda's phone number.
"I was just contacted on the monorail by an Elder Wisdom, tall, but stooped, dark, very long muzzle spines."
"Sand! M'kabon himself! He's the one we most want. Where? Details!"
She told him everything, verbatim, and hung up on him gritting his teeth in frustration, while he planned her surveillance.
She walked the rest of the way to 'Double Moons Publishing'.
Silver and Gold were both still there, and tried to get her to leave a message and not bother Travel, err, Mister D'herio. Xaero smiled at them and waited in their 'slush room', pulling out a manuscript (how had word gotten around so quickly?) from the first shelf.
The prose lay there, dead. She shook her head and put it back. The next was full of enthusiastic misspellings and introduce eighteen characters in the first two pages, each with three names, titles and inter-relationships. By the fourth page she'd forgotten which title went with what name and whose sister, brother or daughter they were, and gave up. Trev came and rescued her from the remainder.
"Dinner?" he asked. "You've got W'ufda chewing his wisdom whiskers."
"Yeah, let's eat and think."
The little hole in the wall restaurant he steered her to had excellent pike steak. They split a bottle and talked not at all about work.
"At ten I decided to be an undercover Secret Agent. My sibs all laughed at me, 'the whole world knows you on sight.' So suddenly I stopped all the public appearances and vids. I went from a total ham to the invisible kid in about a split. The parents fetched the doctor and the guards in a near panic, unsure if I was sick or had been threatened."
Xaero grinned. "I've seen a million pictures of you as a kid. Trust me, you aren't recognizable from them, it's your resemblance to your eldest brother that's the problem. Not that you look like him now, but half the pictures of him are from twenty years ago or so."
"Before he really spined out." Trev grinned. "Fenni's the bane of my existence. You have no idea how tempted I was to leave him locked safely up while I dealt with L'azlod."
Xaero reciprocated. "I've lived here all my life except for the Imperial University School of Law which was such a surrealistic experience it hardly requires geography."
Trev grinned. "Hey I was stuck there for years myself."
She grinned openly. "I know. It's funny, it never occurred to me, all the stories there, and all the Frat boys trying to outdo the legendary exploits of one Princeling or another, that Princeling Fatreve was never mentioned, even though everyone knew all twelve Imperial Brats had wasted years there." She waved down his indignant reply. "Well, everyone said Princette Ferito was very studious, but even so there was that epidemic of missing male clothing that was for some reason associated with her name."
"Sand! That must have been thirty five years before you were there. And they were still talking about it?" Trev shook his head in admiration. "She still doesn't admit to it, just smiles knowingly."
"So, you were the good kid?"
"Ugg. Mommy's favorite. Big brothers' favorite punching bag. Nobody should have nine of them. It isn't natural."
"Fensteri and Ferita are the only ones anyone ever seems to hear about now, though." Xaero said.
Trev laughed. "You don't read the Imperial City scream sheets." He stated. "Otherwise you'd hear about the rest from time to time. Actually, we've all settled down with age. Fenni's sixty-nine, he's having trouble staying ahead of the fems these days. We expect him to marry anytime now, but then that's been true for ten years."
Xaero shoved food around on her plate. "So Feritu will shortly be declared the heir, and she's still got two younger children?"
"Yep. So I'm a comfortable fifth in line for now, and even if Ferive and Fabeto don't mature it won't really matter, as every child Fenni acknowledges siring will push me further back."
"Acknowledges? Surely he hasn't got any?"
"Metini L'azlod." Trev said. "The matter of his acknowledgement has been hotly contested behind closed doors, and probably had a lot to do with L'azlod's anti Imperial nature. He was raised by his mother who didn't place a claim until Metini was a teenager, well indoctrinated to his mother's political ambitions. She was a Union of the Southern Hemisphere political figure. Fenni was scandalously young."
"That must have been some scandal when it hit." She boggled a bit. "I can't believe you managed to keep it quiet. There've been rumors of an unacknowledged bastard, but that exceeds all possibilities I've ever heard."
Leaving, they strolled slowly. Trev glanced back over his shoulder, startled, once. Following his gaze she saw a Very Large Shadow and relaxed. "Nannies." Trev muttered under his breath, reluctantly heading down the broad steps to the local monorail.
Xaero glanced at her chronometer. "Midnight. Sand! I'm getting an actual social life."
Trev glanced at his. "Nah it's only eighty. You'll be fast asleep, alone in bed like a proper pseudofem long before midnight."
"Imperial snob! I assure you, here it is the middle of the night and I have to be at work by twenty."
"I'm sensible and keep Imperial City hours. May I call you tomorrow?"
"You may, although I expect to be very busy. I've got the final meeting—I hope—of the biotech settlement in the next ten days. So I really won't have much time off for the rest of the tenth."
"It's a holiday. I thought only Royals had to work the holidays."
"Oh, Venus Rising and Mars Victory Day. The schizophrenic holiday, love and war altogether. It had totally slipped my mind." Oh, Sand, do I know this lizard well enough to get him something? Is he going to get me a present? Should I get something just in case? What?
"Tsk! Pseudofems, no romance in their souls." At this hour of the night the platform was empty. Trev glanced back again at the footsteps behind them, casually this time, then shoved her hard. "Run!" he snapped, heading for the dubious cover of a support post.
She ran without looking, time for that later, and heard a faint zipping noise. A fog seemed to descend over her head and her feet stumbled uncertainly. Staggering around, she saw a Very Large Lizard closing in at the run, but, but it was the Wrong Lizard. This one was big, but ugly, old and not looking at all protective. She tried to dodge, but was scooped up like a child's doll and tossed over a spiky shoulder. She spotted Trev face down on the floor, twitching, then the Big Ugly stooped through an open door, that closed immediately behind them. Upside down and muzzy, Xaero blinked as she recognized the Wisdom from earlier in the day. He was carrying her briefcase. He was also locking the door behind them, then walking around Big Ugly and out of her sight. A lot of anonymous floor went by, then another door. She twitched and managed to get her right hand up to her frills. She rubbed the edge to stimulate the scent glands then flung the hand out to rub the door frame as they passed through. It worked in romance novels . . .
Instead of locking this one, the Wisdom was doing something to something over the doorway. Seeing her trying to work it out, he curled a lip. "A stunner connected to a motion detector, in case that annoying fool follows me. I have work to do, and don't need any nosy Royals sticking their snouts in."
She gawp at him, trying to get her tongue to cooperate. "Huh?" she managed.
<
br /> "Surely you realized your friend must be a Royal? Spoiled rotten bunch of no goods. That one's in deep deep trouble. I suspect the Dims caught him at Sun Town and now he's dancing to their tune. Very gratifying under other circumstances, but a personal annoyance for me just now."
"You don like Roylz?" she managed.
"Certainly not! An inbred bunch of cretins, it's embarrassing to have to pretend they know how to run a country. It's time for the intelligent elite to take over and run things logically and scientifically."
Scientifically. Help! I've been grabbed by a Mad Scientist!
A roaring sound grew then diminished. Her scrambled brain managed to work out that a train was passing nearby about the time it quieted down again. The old Lizard pulled out a chronometer on a chain and nodded at it.
"Right on time. We have just enough time to grab the supplies I secreted here a few tenths ago." He opened the door opposite the one they'd entered, and hopped through. The Big Ugly followed his odd exit method, which from her still shoulder slung position, she could see was necessitated by the half stride drop to the floor of a monorail tunnel. Her mental and physical numbness was fading and the Big Ugly's shoulder was starting to get very uncomfortable.
"Now, as for why I brought you along," the Mad Scientist continued invisibly from somewhere up ahead. "As I said, I need money. And you are going to supply it."
"I'm?" was all she could manage.
"Those idiot REMs were my main source of funds, but they kept running off and doing the stupidest things imaginable. Destroy Imperial City? Home of most of the finest minds on the planet? Insane, but then L'azlod is a Royal Bastard, stupid as all the rest." They halted and she was lowered to the floor, native rock, with miniature dust and sand dunes along both sides, no doubt rearranged by every passing train. She concentrated and managed to shove herself over on her side so she could see what the Mad Scientist was doing. The Big Ugly was unscrewing a large heavy metal mesh, a cover over some sort of equipment bay, apparently, while the Mad Scientist jiggled around, and finally turned back to her, or rather her briefcase. He dug around in it for a while, apparently curious, then produced her bank card. "Ah! Here we go!" he said with satisfaction, turning it on and pressing her numb fingertip to it. "Hmph. Didn't do as well out of Blozolli and L'azlod as I'd have thought. I'll have to take it all."
Just as Big Ugly pulled the heavy metal mesh away and leaned it against the wall, something chirped a faint alarm. "The Dims have reached my trap." The Mad Scientist frowned. "That was faster than I'd expected. Tie her to that thing." He gestured at the metal mesh. Big Ugly looked around a bit helplessly, then turned to the hole in the wall. It must have been a sizable room of some sort in there, for he disappeared into it and emerged with a crate. He entered the room again and came out with a long coil of the bright red ropes repair crews used to keep the curious out of work areas. He cut off several pieces, working them through the holes in the mesh while the Mad Scientist fidgeted, staring down the tunnel, stunner in hand.
"Here," he said finally. "Take this and go see what happened to my trap. It's either a false alarm, or it got them all." He handed the stunner, and something else he took from his pocket to the big Lizard, and took over the tying up part. As the Big Ugly headed down the tunnel at a trot he called after him. "If it's just that royal idiot, bring him here."
Xaero tried to get more cooperation from her limbs, but whapping the mad scientist across the face with a numb forearm then collapsing to the floor only made him laugh. He hoisted her up and leaned her face out against the metal mesh to tie her hands up above her head, and then her feet at the base. Between the pins-and-needles of returning feeling and the beginnings of what she figured was going to be a very uncomfortable strain on her shoulders, she didn't notice the return of the Big Ugly until he dumped a limp Trev at his master's feet.
Whatever M'kabon was, he'd never been in the Scale Scouts. His knots were ugly, inefficient tangles. They held well enough for the big ugly to prop her and the grid against the wall to tie Trev to the other side. She was glad to hear him muttering and groaning. While partially hidden, she squirmed against the ropes.
She yipped as the grid was unexpectedly lifted and swung through the air to dangle in the tunnel; craning her head awkwardly she could see the rope had been flung over the overhead rail. With the Big Ugly holding it tight, M'kabon tied the end to the machinery in the niche.
He swaggered back, smiling as they swung like a pendulum, Xaero swallowed, wondering if she'd have long enough to develop motion sickness before a train came along.
Trev spoke suddenly. "Why didn't you keep going? What's so important about those things that you'd risk capture to get them back?" Hmph, he must have been hit low, his tongue still worked. Stunners were notoriously variable in their effects, especially the civilian models that were so much lower powered than the disrupters the military used, which could destroy rather than shock the nervous system, not infrequently killing the target.
"Oh, dear me!" The nasty little physicist sneered. "Didn't they tell the prince the big secret?" He laughed in delight at the thought. "They let you go, so long as it will help them, but they don't overburden your tiny royal brain with details, do they?"
He strode to the crate and caressed it gently. "I already have all the other parts I need. Once I put it together it will be in full working order, and everything, everything will change." He strolled back happily stroking his muzzle spines. "It's a time machine, you see. I'm going to change a few things for the better." He reached out and added some spin to their swing. "Not much, and not too far back, I wouldn't like to erase myself, you see. But with luck, you won't even exist."
"Aren't you concerned with creating a paradox?" Her spin took him out of her sight.
"Oh, you're so clever! I should keep you, but it just isn't practical right now. I'll have to leave myself some detailed instructions to avoid a paradox, but I've been thinking about this for so long, and expecting to get instructions from myself, that I did just what they said when I finally did get them."
Xaero turned her head to eye him. "You got instructions from yourself? You think you've already time traveled?"
"I know I have, after all I told myself all about it." He beamed at her. "I've already changed time, but it needs constant adjustment, taking care of all those unforeseen consequences that arose from the previous change. It's infuriating, the way the Royals keep on happening! Almost like there some inertia or something. Some of the silliest things keep happening, every time." He expelled a deep breath. "It's not a perfect situation. History! I hated it in school, any fool could see it was a big sloppy complicated mess. Perhaps when I have some time, I’ll do an analysis of it. It could be an excellent example of Chaos Theory in action, now that we're about to have a seventh example of one."
"Except that if things keep repeating, it isn't a random or chaotic system." Xaero pointed out.
M'kabon stopped and blinked at her. "That's true. I wonder how to test . . . "
Trev snorted. "I think you've been breathing too many chemicals in your lab, Doc. Why don't you cut us down before you do something unforgivable."
"Oh, but that's the beauty of it. You see, or at least your pretty friend can see, and perhaps she can explain it to you, in three more days this won't have happened."
"Three days?" she asked. "Is that how long it takes to put it together or do you have to come and go from specific times?"
"Oh, you are quick! It's all a matter of velocity, you see? If you come and go from the same time of day, and same day of the year your velocity will come close enough to matching the velocity of where you want to go for practical purposes."
"Hmm, hadn't thought of that," she said. "I guess turning yourself into a high speed projectile would be counter productive."
"Precisely!"
“But what about the whole solar system moving through space?”
“The Sun’s magnetic field forms a bubble, probably extending out to the magnetop
ause, and creates an internal frame of reference. Or it could be gravitational, observationally everything is relative to the Sun. I really need to look into space exploration, it may be the planets with strong magnetic fields like Jupiter or Big Blue have their own magnetic bubble, and Martians there would just get dragged along the orbits and could travel partial years.” He glanced at his handheld as it emitted a series of cheeps. "Well, it’s been a pleasure talking to you, but the Dims have arrived. Will they be in time to rescue you, or not? Or are they laying in a heap, stunned? Well, it's been nice chatting with you, but I have a train to catch." He trotted off down the tunnel, followed by the big ugly toting the chest.
After a long moment, Trev cleared his throat. "I never know where I'll find you hanging around, do I?"
Xaero snickered, twisting her hands around in the ropes. Not much slack. "Be glad I can't get a hand free. I'd be tempted to waste time decking a male who could make that sort of joke at a time like this." The foot bonds were looser. She concentrated on wiggling her right foot, to develop some slack. Actually, the stiff oiled leather of her boots had made tight bonds around her ankles impossible. Jamming the heel of the boot she wiggled her foot in it, tugging.
"Dear me. I suppose you don't like puns, either?" The grid swung as he jerked.
"No, as a matter of fact." She said, easing one foot out of the boot
Another short silence, as the grid swung and jerked. "You know, I was planning on taking you out for a properly romantic dinner tomorrow, wine, flowers, this present I've got in my pocket, the works."
She jerked her other foot out of its boot and said. "You bought me a Venus present?" Wiggling clumsily, she managed to stand on one boot and get the hilt of the knife between the toes of her right foot. Carefully (where are my prehensile toes when I need them?) she brought her foot up to where she could bend down and bite the blade, and then standing with both feet on the tops of the boots, stretch her muzzle up to pass the knife to her hands.
The angle was awkward, but the obsidian sharp. She sawed through the last strand and dropped to the ground. Stretching her sore shoulders, she staggered over to the rope holding the grid up and shaking her head at the incredible mass of incompetent knot work, started cutting.
