By now his intervention had at least broken the rhythms of the fractious parties and they were drifting off, glad of an excuse to be peaceful; even Gorodek’s aides were not hurrying to surround him, and he backed away.
With one more tap of his staff Vannar left them.
In the morning Gorodek and his party were gone.
No Love Lost
The sky was brilliantly starred, with a faint line to the east, dawn barely into the day’s first quarter. The barge was a coalfired vessel fitted with shutters instead of awnings, because the sea-wind was fierce at night, and it whistled through the laths.
Inside the cabin the lights were as dim as they had been in the tunnel; the other half-score places were taken by laborers off duty or replacement crew and all settled down to sleep as well as they could, squatting, except for the one Varvani who unrolled a mat, flung himself down on it and was soon snoring.
Dritta opened her case and handed out bowls which she filled from a hot-jug of sprigwort tea, and shared out a packet of dried sea-stars.
The tea was Hasso’s favorite drink and reminded him that he had an ordinary life somewhere on the world. Eventually he asked the question that had been waiting at the back of his mind: “Lyhhrt, when you received the message that sent you to me, you said, ‘I have been advised by the world Lyhhr.’ Did it come directly from Lyhhr?”
The Lyhhrt moved and spoke slowly. “All I know is that I was summoned by the Galactic Federation local office in Burning Mountain and given this message by an official there. She read it to me, put a seal on the paper and gave it to me, then told me that it had come from Headquarters in the Twelveworlds and there was no further information she could give me because Khagodis no longer accepted communications from Lyhhr. I couldn’t read it properly through her eyes because I am deficient in symbolingua but there did not seem to be much matter in it. They were eager to be rid of me and so I came to you. I was desperate. As you can see there is still no one who wants to talk of Lyhhr.”
“I have seen,” Hasso said. “But—do you believe that came from Lyhhr?”
“No! It would need a whole trading consortium to mount a war effort, and now that Lyhhr has curtailed trade and Zamos has been dismembered, Interworld Trade has no impetus to fuel Lyhhrt ‘revenge,’ whatever that is. But I had to take it seriously just the same, and so I came to you.”
Could his frustrated Other have had some part in that? Is it possible that other Lyhhrt was harboring himself in Sketh? Sketh had poisoned himself with karynon and other drugs … . Hasso left the questions in limbo: he already knew much more about private lives than he wanted; folded his hands and closed his eyes.
As he was drowsing he heard quick footsteps and an urgent voice: “Officer! Officer!” He opened his eyes. The shipmaster in his oilskin cape was swinging his lantern, searching.
“Here I am, Shipmaster!” Dritta said clearly.
“Officer, we are being followed by a motor yacht that just now sent a message demanding we stop and hand over your party.”
“Are they threatening you in any way?”
“No, madam, but it claims to be a vessel owned by the Governor of Western Sealand.”
“Does he have any authority in these waters?”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Can you outrun him?”
“I … likely could.”
“Why do you hesitate, Shipmaster?”
“It takes more fuel and harder labor, Madam Officer.”
Hasso raised his heavy head. “I will pay for the extra fuel and labor.”
“Outrun him,” Dritta said.
“Right.”
The lantern swung away, and Dritta said, “My department is quite able to pay for extra supplies.”
“Allow me, dems’l. I already have enough clay tablets and spools and vellum scrolls.”
Dritta was silent for a moment. “The young lady is sleeping. It’s a good thing when sleep outruns fear.”
Hasso was quick to agree, and fell asleep.
Three Heads
“Gorodek has left! So much for getting up at midnight to make peace.” Vannar cast sardonic looks at Ravat and Tharma. “I’m beginning to believe it might have been better to let them thrash it out and keep Gorodek’s faction occupied.” The three were leaning on elbows at Vannar’s great marble escritoire and trying to hold up their heads.
Tharma said, “I believe his faction has run out of steam. Hasso had the idea that Gorodek was intent on raiding the Isthmus mining fields. If that was true, the Lyhhrt threat he conjured up would have been an excuse for going ahead. But of course the Isthmus States quite rightly read his declaration as a threat to themselves, and I suspect that he didn’t count on their taking quite so much offense. He has landed himself in the grokkli’s nest and he’s running home, trying still to collect his bride—”
“Can’t the damned fool give up!”
“I was told earlier that Gorodek’s cruiser had been pursuing their party, but in the past hour I’ve had a message that the barge is within sight of Dead Moon Crater, and Gorodek has no clearance to land there, so unless he prefers to hang about thumping his tail he might as well go home. Also … young Ekket comes from Center Point, that little Isthmus state—”
“Eki, yes!” Ravat said. “And all of the Isthmuses will be here making cases and demanding reparations … but let us at least try to send them all home safely first, so we can sleep.”
Fthel IV, Montador City: Meetings
:You.: The Lyhhrt, having no recourse to humor, have to make do with irony. “You who met with the wealthy and powerful!” He was facing Bronze and Brass, whose meeting with Brezant had led them into the shame of dismissal.
“You were called home!”
“We did not go.” Brass-and-silver said. Each of the two was holding a gold leaf.
“That would have been best for you. Where did you find that lump of evil that killed my Other and my friend?”
The five, three Lyhhrt and two Earthers, were standing stiffly in the middle of the walk, where passers, laughing and talking, streamed around them without seeming to notice their brush with fear and fury. Tyloe and Lorrice would have sidled off then, but their Lyhhrt held them firmly in his mind’s grip.
Bronze said, “Galactic Federation would have nothing to do with us because our world canceled its trading pacts. We were bitter, both at them and our world, we wanted a taste of revenge—”
“And that one came saying he was an emissary from Fthel Five,” Brass said, “and told us we would have power and revenge if we joined with Brezant. Brezant and his people wanted only the gold but—”
“We had nothing to do with killing! When we heard of the killings we hurried away from Brezant and his company! When we found this money lying here and giving out signals we were afraid he was tracking us, trying to control us.”
The three Lyhhrt were silent for a moment in furious thought. Tyloe, who at least had control of his eyes, was looking for any avenue of escape, and saw with a peculiar feeling, that Zella Stoyko, one of those two who had tried teaching him to fight like a pug, was coming down the street toward them, three children in tow … .
Lorrice caught on. :Call out to them, Tyloe, that’s the distraction we need!:
… Zella, tired and frustrated, was on her way to the train that would take her back to Miramar on the cheap midnight run. As usual on these visits her mother had not died, good, but she and her sisters had kept yammering at Zella about her way of life and her no-good husband. Hypersledges will not drag me there again. The kids were jumping up and down and jabbering in imitation of their grandmother and aunts. “Awright, kids! Maybe I should have left you there, how’d you like that?”
Tyloe could hear the faint sighing in her voice, and for a moment felt he was in a parallel world … .
:Not with those kids there. No way.:
:Damn you.: But the curse was half-hearted.
Tyloe muttered to his silver Lyhhrt, “Someone is going to c
ome along that you don’t want to meet … .”
But the Lyhhrt had picked up the thought; he did not want Zella asking him what had happened to Ned, and was already saying, “Here is a hotel. Let us go inside.” He turned to the hotel entrance. “Come.”
When they had settled themselves among potted trees and velvet chairs, Lorrice said to the silver-shelled Lyhhrt, in a trembling voice that was like slowly cracking porcelain, “For God’s sake, you don’t need us any more! We never knew about any of this, we never hurt anybody! Can’t you let us go?”
The words formed in his mind and speech: You were content enough to live with murderers. But for a moment the Lyhhrt did not answer, and could not. The glimpse of Zella and her children, Ned’s children, had unnerved him, for he had dragged Ned away from them. Their presence mocked him for claiming superiority over his enemy, boasting about his sense of sin.
“If I let you go now you will still be in danger, and I made myself responsible for your safety. When the one who gave you this money is found you will go.
“Now you two …” Confronting Bronze and Brass in their shame, he was almost envious of them, because they had each other.
But they were defiant. “What do you want from us? We don’t need your money.” They thrust the gold leaves at him.
“But I need your help, and if you help me now I will praise you on our world.”
:We may consider that.:
He said, You must know that there is an other One who has taken Brezant’s place.:
They did not answer, and he followed up: : You do know, and you are in contact with him then … what is he doing? Why is he behaving this way?:
:On Khagodis there is a powerful ruler who wants to raid the wealthy mines on his neighbors’ territory, he is going to claim the threat of a Lyhhrt attack as an excuse to “defend” his land. That other One agreed to arrange this “attack,” to be carried out by some hundreds of alien hirelings gathered on this world, who have no future, and will be killed on their world by his heroic defence. But we were exposed by what you told the embassy and his plans may change.:
:If you are free to tell me this, then tell me where he is.:
:He never tells us that. He comes when he chooses.:
:Why does he come to you?:
:To stop being alone.:
:But he did not try to attack you?:
:There are two of us. You cannot attack us either.:
:I am well aware of it. But I want to know where he is.:
:We cannot tell you.:
Lorrice said suddenly, “He told us he liked Montador.” Her esp antenna had picked up the drift.
Tyloe said, “He owns that house in the south where you were staying. Why would he want to come here?”
“And he had a big cache of weapons there,” Lorrice said.
Tyloe added, “All of them new, most in cases.”
Both were now uncomfortably aware that the two Lyhhrt in bronze and brass had shifted attention to them, and wondered why they had spoken up at all.
But their Lyhhrt’s mind was elsewhere and he answered his own question. “Perhaps here is where he is going to be paid for them … or pay. In either case he will be meeting someone—”
“Us, if no one else,” Tyloe said.
“And soon, before the last tender lifts.”
The two Lyhhrt in bronze and brass rose and sat themselves to either side of Silver. “You need not worry about that.”
Lorrice cried, “No!”
“What?”
“Do you really believe that being praised on our own world is more valuable to us than joining him and owning worlds?”
“He told you that, did he?” The Lyhhrt was powerless between them.
“You needn’t speak any more,” Bronze said in a conversational tone. “He sent us to find you and finish what he had not done. Just down that stairway over there it is dark and quiet, and you will find rest/in/prayer at one with your forebears.”
Brass-with-silver said to Lorrice and Tyloe, “You two will stay where you are, and we’ll be back.”
Three Lyhhrt rose as one and walked on the deep green carpet toward a wall covered in green plush with its dark opening that might have been the entrance to a hedge maze.
Balancing on the edge of the step, one foot extended to step down, Brass and Bronze Lyhhrt so intent on their silver one that they seemed to weigh him down.
Tyloe realized that the pressure of their control had lifted from him to let in one sharp instant of freedom—
Lorrice shivered.
And, For God’s sake, Tyloe, what—
Tyloe leaped up and ran one-two-three-four-five-six bent-kneed steps jumped in the air and straightened legs to slam feet smashing into the back of left-hand Bronze. Bronze went down in a hideous boiling crash—
Tyloe landed third step down with a jolt that nearly bit his tongue off. Brass just stood there rattling.
Lyhhrt-in-silver recovered quickly, and when Tyloe jumped the three steps and raised his arms to send Brass down as well, pulled him away. “Come! That one is no match.”
Downstairs people screamed and lights were coming on. Tyloe grabbed Lorrice by the arm, and when she pulled back caught her around the shoulders: “Get going! All the bouncers’ll be after us and the police coming!” He could feel blood from his bitten tongue drizzling from the corner of his mouth. He found a tissue and wiped it quickly to avoid stares.
Outside when they were among all the ordinary people, and lights and fluttering holograms, Lorrice found breath and said, “It’s those bouncers and all the others the police will be after.”
“Why?”
“They’re running an unlicensed drug bar down that stairway, ge’inn, karynon, other things. They had it shielded but I guess everybody heard the noise.”
Tyloe was beginning to find speaking slow with his bitten tongue. “Karynon? Um, that wouldn’t have been the place Brezant found you, would it?”
“If it had been as high-priced as that I might not have gone with him.”
Tyloe suddenly realized that he had probably killed a Lyhhrt and began to shudder.
“Repent later!” the Lyhhrt said sharply. “Come along now!”
Tyloe snarled, “Come where!”
“To the District Port Complex, where you landed when you first came here. Where the one I spared just now told me to look for that other one. Because you broke his shielding when you—”
“Don’t! What are we doing then!”
“You are acting as my hands and feet, that run and jump without having to plan every slightest move! I have found a use for fleshly beings! Somehow I will reward you for that—now, would you rather serve me or that other?”
Neither Tyloe nor Lorrice answered.
“Here is an aircab, we will take that to the monorail station and you may sleep for one or two of your hours.”
Lorrice fell asleep immediately in the monorail. Tyloe was afraid to close his eyes, but exhaustion forced him into a hot and sickly sleep in which he could feel the Lyhhrt muffling his terrible dreams.
Bonzador: Pickers and Choosers
The day after Gretorix and the thief were killed the aircar flew in with a fresh load of beer; nobody refused it but it did nothing to lighten the sullen atmosphere. The sky fit the mood, the clouds were thick and so was the air. There was no funeral for Gretorix, an old soldier who had studied war too long; just a day of tactics, maneuvers, arms drills and cutting brush. Ned was thinking, He’ll be lucky if they bury him. Yeh, lucky.
By mid-afternoon the rain came pelting and everybody took shelter to keep the paper uniforms from dissolving. Grushka was still red-eyed at dinner time, and Ned said, “No use beating yourself for it, it’s a mean lot they got here, better to duck out of the way.”
“Wish I hadn’t come, it was just there was nothing fucking else.”
Spartakos said: “I have heard from my Maker.”
“Sends his good wishes, does he?”
“It’s no use
directing anger at him, Ned. He always wishes us well. But he wants me to ask the Zarandu computer when the last lading boards.”
“Why are you telling me that, Spartakos?”
“Partly to show that I don’t keep secrets from you—”
“I never believed you did—”
“—and partly to let you know what time we need to be ready to leave this place.”
“And that’s—”
“Seven days local time.”
“Doesn’t give us much time to dig a tunnel.”
“If you had told me in advance that—”
“I never expected you to build a tunnel, Spartakos, and if we’d tried I doubt we’d still be alive.” Ned had been gnawing at the problem since the Lyhhrt decamped. “Whatever we do it’s gotta be soon and quick.”
Why’d they want to spend so much shipping people to be killed? … There must be an awful lot of money involved in it.
Next morning Rrengha nudged Ned awake. “In camp number three,” she growled. “Someone you know.” She gave him the mind-picture: in the center of the clearing the body of a man beaten to death, skin blackened with bruises, blood seeping into the mud he was half buried in.
“I can’t tell who,” Ned said.
“You give him one or two of those bruises.” Rrengha said.
“The thief’s friend?”
“He has an idea to steal arms and get out of here.”
“Ran into somebody first …”
“I think they don’t care for those ideas.”
“Teach us a lesson. Yeh. It’s time we left.”
“Do you have an idea, Ned Gattes?”
“First, we can’t take even half of everybody. There’s some who’re gonna die no matter what we do … .”
“And others don’t believe there is any danger at all.”
“They’re not the ones I’m worried about. Who don’t we want to take, aside from everybody that’s running this place?”
“You mean, who gives us away? The only other telepaths here, of all that come to fight, are one or two low-grade Bengtvadi. They are part of a group of collaborators in the camp to the southwest that supplies bullies like Cawdor, that kill fools like the one lying there, and they have privilege to keep weapons with them—but there is no plan to save them. What I see is that all fates here are alike inside these fences.”
Mindworlds Page 18
