Runner

by William C. Dietz

  It was dusk, and while the sun was about to drop over the edge of the western horizon, it was only a little past seven, which meant the power wouldn’t come on for a while yet. But the citizens of Zand were used to that, which was why thousands of candles, lamps, and lanterns had already been lit and people had started to filter out onto the streets as they did every evening. And Jevan Kane was one of them. Not because he wanted to go out, but because he had to, headache be damned. After questioning hundreds of people, one of the local operatives had come up with a lead, the only one generated so far. It seemed that a street vendor had noticed a youth who matched the description of the boy Kane had seen on both Pooz, and on Ning, riding atop the ragged-looking heavy.

  For some reason the youngster had been out running around the streets alone. The vendor had seen him pause in front of the black hat temple, look all around as if to make sure that no one was watching him, then enter alone. Later, after an hour or so, the boy had departed. That was intriguing enough—but there was more. The vendor was well acquainted with the black hats, having given all of the monks food at one time or another, so when the boy left and one of the aspirants followed, the woman couldn’t help but notice.

  Now, as Kane stood next to her flat-cake stand, the off-worlder sought to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Norr had been accompanied by four red hat warriors at the spaceport, the boy had been seen visiting a black hat temple, and a monk had been dispatched to follow him home. But why? There was only one way to find out.

  Kane turned to Olvos. “Okay, I’m going in. If I haven’t returned by eight-thirty, or sent word, then come in after me.”

  The council member nodded, but the gesture lacked conviction, and Kane knew he might renege. Especially if the black hats put up some resistance. Still, he had no other choice, not if he wanted to find Norr.

  Head pounding, Kane made his way across the open area in front of the monastery and entered through one of eight possible doors. As luck would have it the operative passed through portal six, the entry that stood for skillful effort, the very thing the operative would have chosen had he been aware of the symbology involved. Once inside, the off-worlder looked around, spotted a likely-looking monk, and approached him. “Excuse me . . . I’m a stranger here—and would like to speak with the abbot.”

  The monk bowed, promised to return, and disappeared down a hallway. A full ten minutes passed, and Kane had started to wonder if he was being systematically ignored, when the black hat reappeared. He bowed respectfully. “My apologies regarding the delay. The abbot was in a meeting. He will see you now.”

  Kane followed the monk through a series of passageways and into a large office. Outside of a single overhead light fixture there was no sign of technology, and the whole notion of sitting on the floor struck Kane as primitive. The man who rose to greet him wore a black hat, matching robe, and a polite expression. “I am Hico Marth. Please have a seat. How can I help you?”

  Kane waited for the black hat to take his seat, lowered himself onto a cushion, and dreaded the effort that would be required to stand up again. Then came the difficult part. Broaching a subject that might, or might not, have meaning for the monk, plus doing so in a way that wouldn’t reveal too much. “Thank you for agreeing to see me. My name is Jevan Kane. I know you’re busy so I’ll try to be brief . . . I represent a group called the Techno Society.”

  Marth allowed his eyebrows to rise. “The organization that the metal men preach on behalf of?”

  Kane nodded. “We don’t think of our efforts to remind people of the benefits of technology as preaching, but yes, the metal men belong to us.”

  “I hope you’ll forgive me for saying so,” the abbot responded mildly, “but the metal men are more than a little annoying. But that aside, what brings you to our humble temple?”

  “A little boy,” Kane replied truthfully. “A little boy who arrived on Ning along with four red hat warriors, survived a battle at the spaceport, and was subsequently seen entering your monastery.”

  Marth, who still had the boy’s hotel under surveillance, knew who Kane was referring to. Rather than reveal that knowledge, however, the black hat thought it best to maintain a neutral expression and draw the stranger out. “I see. But many boys enter our temple . . . What makes this one so special?”

  The monk was already aware of the boy, Kane could sense it, and felt his heart beat just a little bit faster. That made his head throb, and he struggled to maintain focus. “The boy isn’t special, not so far as we’re concerned, but the woman he is traveling with is. She has something that doesn’t belong to her, something she stole from me, and I want it back.”

  “Ah,” Marth replied, “now I understand. If you find the boy—you find the thief.”

  “Exactly,” the technologist answered. “Can you help me?”

  “Yes,” the abbot replied judiciously, as his fingertips came together to form a steeple. “I think I can . . . But first I would appreciate it if you would tell me everything you can about the boy. I’m not entirely sure as yet, but based on information I received a few days ago, there is a strong possibility that the boy is an imposter.”

  A ten-year-old imposter? It didn’t make sense, but Kane didn’t care, not so long as he got what he wanted. So, starting with the disastrous firefight at the riverfront restaurant in Gos and ending with the brawl at Zand’s spaceport, the operative told the black hat what he wanted to know.

  Marth listened intently. The fact that the boy named Lee had clearly been on the same ship that Brother Fiva had monitored and was pursuing an itinerary that could take him to Thara and the city of CaCanth certainly seemed to confirm his identity. Not with 100 percent certainty perhaps, but to an extent that justified a momentary deviation from the way, even if that meant negative Ka, and some additional incarnations prior to full enlightenment. Because, onerous though the results of his actions might be, the needs of the church must necessarily take precedence over his life and the boy’s as well. Marth looked into the other man’s ice-blue eyes. “Based on your description of what took place, I think there is a high degree of likelihood that the boy is the one we’re looking for.”

  “I am gratified to hear it,” Kane replied eagerly. “If you would be so kind as to tell me where the woman and the boy are staying, my personnel will take both of them into custody. Once that has been accomplished, the boy will be handed over to you.”

  The abbot smiled thinly. “Thank you, but no. I mean no offense, but the attempt to capture the group at the spaceport lacked finesse and could only be described as a miserable failure. No, I think a different approach is in order, one that won’t attract any further attention. Assuming the boy is the person I believe he is, then I know exactly where he and his escorts will go next, which means we can intercept them. Not here, in the city, but well beyond the walls.”

  The suggestion went against all of Kane’s instincts, but so long as the black hat withheld the boy’s location, he had the advantage. All the technologist could do was smile, nod, and hope for the best.

  The abbot ordered tea, which in spite of the fact that it didn’t contain any sugar, still tasted sweet.

  TEN

  The Planet Ning

  Each incarnation can be viewed as a pilgrimage in which we will encounter many obstacles. It is how we react to those obstacles, and the choices that we make in response to them, that determines the extent of our progress.

  —The ascended master Teon,

  The Way

  The angen’s hooves made a methodical clop, clop, clop sound and an axle squeaked monotonously as the bread wagon bumped and clattered its way along the misty alleyway to the point where a trio of overflowing garbage bins guarded the rear entrance of the hotel. That was where Omar said, “Whoa!” pulled the slack out of the reins, and brought the conveyance to a rattling stop.

  The travelers were ready. Hoggles carried Lee out through the portal, lifted the boy into the back of the wagon, and climbed in after him. Norr wen
t next, closely followed by Rebo, who pulled the tailgate up behind him and latched it in place. Then, having dropped the rear curtain and tied it down, the runner rapped three times. The reins made a slapping sound as they hit the angen’s back, and the wagon jerked into motion. The entire process took less than a minute, and thanks to the early-morning hour, went unobserved. Or so the travelers hoped.

  Though empty of bread, the cargo compartment was already half-full of supplies when the foursome had boarded the wagon, which meant that it was crowded. Especially given how much space the heavy required. But Rebo considered that to be a small price to pay if he and his companions could escape the city undetected. Something that would have been easy prior to Lee’s midnight outing, but had subsequently been transformed into a major operation, a fact not lost on the boy himself.

  As the wagon bounced and swayed Lee felt his stomach rumble in response to the mouthwatering odor that lingered from the previous day’s load of bread, and wondered if he would ever manage to regain the runner’s trust. One thing was for sure, no matter how long he lived, the boy knew he would never forget the moment when he opened the hotel room door to discover that he had been missed. Both Rebo and Hoggles had been out looking for him, while Norr remained behind to coordinate the search and solicit help from the spirit world.

  The sensitive gave a cry of joy as Lee entered the room, pulled the boy into her arms, and gave him a hug. She was in the process of chewing him out when Rebo returned. A variety of emotions had registered on the runner’s face beginning with relief, quickly followed by anger, and a look of profound disappointment.

  And it was the last, the loss of Rebo’s respect and trust, that Lee regretted the most. He said as much to Norr the following day, hoping that she might intervene on his behalf, but was disappointed when the sensitive told him something the boy already knew. “Trust is a fragile thing . . . It takes a long time to establish, and once created, can easily be destroyed. There are no shortcuts. Decision by decision, action by action, that’s the way to rebuild Rebo’s trust.”

  The words not only rang true, but resonated with the older, more mature being that dwelt deep inside him, a fact that made Lee all the more determined to restore that which had been frittered away.

  It took the better part of a long, uncomfortable hour for the bread wagon to clear the eastern gate, pass through the street of thieves, and rumble out onto the dirt road that paralleled the Xee River. Thanks to Omar’s encyclopedic knowledge of the caravans as well as the nomads themselves, Rebo had been able to purchase two prime angens the previous afternoon, and now it was time to claim them. It wasn’t long before the wagon turned off the main track, rolled past a couple of well-armed guards, and the entered the semipermanent encampment maintained by Pithri Gorgo, the self-styled “King of L-phants.” He was an entrepreneur who, though dishonest, was widely believed to be less dishonest than most of his peers, and therefore a good person to do business with.

  Omar pulled on the reins, the wagon came to a halt, and Norr slid the rear curtain to one side. The sun had risen by then, the mist had been vanquished, and the encampment was coming back to life now that the hours of darkness were at an end. Cook fires sent delicate spirals of smoke up toward the sky, and a battalion of children were busy carrying buckets of water up to their mothers. Later, after that chore had been completed, they would turn their attention to the L-phants. Each animal had to be fed and checked for sores prior to being led down to the river to drink.

  Rebo dropped the tailgate and jumped down to the ground. Gorgo was famous for the quality of his hospitality, so it was only a matter of moments before a teenaged girl arrived with a load of caf and hot fry bread. “Try it,” Omar suggested, as he accepted a steaming cup. “I think you’ll like it.”

  None of them had eaten prior to departure, so Rebo took a bite, and soon discovered that the old man was correct. The fry bread had a crunchy exterior, had been liberally sprinkled with cinnamon, and went well with the black caf.

  Gorgo arrived a few minutes later. His thick black hair was wet, as if he had just emerged from a dip in the river, and his white robe was spotless. “So,” the merchant said, thereby offering his customers an extravagant display of white teeth, “you are on time. Please follow me . . . Your L-phants are ready.”

  A few steps carried the travelers over to a huge tree, where two of the mighty beasts stood waiting, their rear legs chained together to prevent them from wandering off. Although Rebo had observed L-phants from a distance, he had never stood next to one until the previous afternoon, and was still astounded by how large they were. The beasts weren’t native to Ning, but were believed to be the bioengineered descendants of animals that humans had brought with them more than a million years before.

  Having been specifically bred to carry heavy loads over long distances while subject to Ning’s gravity, the L-phants had huge six-ton bodies supported by four massive column-like legs. But, what made these particular creatures different from all of the other angens Rebo had seen was not only their size, but the fact that they lacked heads. In an effort to lengthen their torsos and maximize their ability to carry cargo, L-phant brains had been relocated into the anterior portion of their chests. The animals’ eyes were located there, too, which meant that while they had an excellent view of the trail ahead, they couldn’t scan the horizon for danger. This modification assumed a symbiotic relationship with humans, who would eternally bear responsibility for spotting and protecting the angens from potential enemies.

  Not that the animals were entirely helpless, since each L-phant was equipped with a long, flexible trunk that extended from the area immediately over its eyes and could be used for eating, drinking, and fighting. Other attributes, like their heat-sensitive skins, and the special subcutaneous tissues that could store up to fifty gallons of water, were a good deal less obvious, but just as important to performing their intended function. That was to carry people and goods over long distances. Never mind the fact that the animals produced enormous mounds of manure, were notoriously flatulent, and eternally cranky. “So,” Gorgo said, as he patted a leathery flank, “if you would be so kind as to hand over the remainder of the purchase price, we can finalize this transaction. The sunny south awaits!”

  Rebo was already in the process of reaching for his purse when Omar interrupted. “Excuse me, but a mistake has been made. Yesterday, while you were finalizing the price, I scratched my initials into each animal’s skin. That angen still bears my mark . . . but this one doesn’t. A mix-up perhaps?”

  In spite of the fact that Omar knew there hadn’t been any mix-up, he had been careful to leave Gorgo with a way out, which the merchant was quick to take advantage of. “Please accept my most sincere apologies! The children who brought animals out of the corral clearly made a mistake. I can assure you that they will be punished. In the meantime have some more caf . . . I will remove this beast and return with the correct angen.”

  Rebo waited until the merchant was well out of earshot before turning to Omar. “Thank you! I missed the switch. What sort of scam was he trying to pull?”

  “It’s hard to know for sure,” the oldster replied. “But I suspect that this particular L-phant, the one he tried to give you, is healthy but two or three years older than the one I initialed yesterday. It’s a small thing, but lots of small profits can add up to a large one, which is one of the reasons why Gorgo does so well.”

  “Thank you,” Rebo said sincerely, as he offered Omar a handful of coins. “I won’t forget your kindness.”

  “It’s nothing,” the old man replied as he watched the remaining L-phant run its potentially lethal trunk over Lee’s head and shoulders. It constituted a rather unusual display of affection given the fact that the huge beasts were famously bad-tempered. “Be sure to take good care of that boy . . . I don’t know why, but he strikes me as special somehow.”

  “He’s disobedient at times,” the runner observed, “but so was I! He doesn’t know that, however—whic
h is just as well.”

  Both men laughed as Gorgo returned with a second beast. Omar verified the presence of his mark, money changed hands, and a bill of sale was executed. It took the better part of an hour to hoist the formfitting cargo boxes into place, secure them with straps that passed beneath huge bellies, and load them with supplies that had been removed from Omar’s wagon.

  Then, once the L-phants had been ordered to kneel, the travelers took their places on the bench-style seats that were built into each cargo box. Rebo watched with interest as Lee made use of a four-foot-long ponga rod to touch a massive shoulder before tapping on it twice. The runner quickly discovered that it was necessary to hang on as the animal lurched from one side to the other as it came to its feet.

  Gorgo, along with some of the members of his extended family, were clearly surprised by the ease with which the boy had assumed control of the angen, and there was a scattering of applause as the L-phant stood.

  Meanwhile, the second beast, the one that Norr and Hoggles were supposed to ride, refused to stand. The heavy, who had assumed the role of L-phant driver, frowned. The ponga rod made a slapping sound as it hit the animal’s hide, and each time it made contact, Norr “saw” lightninglike flashes of orange and red ripple through the envelope of energy that surrounded the angen, a sure sign that the beast was experiencing pain. “Here,” the sensitive said, holding her hand out. “Let me try.”

  Hoggles didn’t want to surrender the rod, not with the nomads looking on, but forced himself to do so. Rather than strike the animal as the heavy had, Norr made use of the very tip of the rod to scratch the spot where she sensed that the L-phant had a persistent itch, and was rewarded with sparks of bright blue light. The angen stirred, and the sensitive grinned as the beast came to its feet.

  There was a second cheer as Rebo waved to Omar, the L-phants got under way, and an unofficial escort comprised of noisy children and their equally boisterous dogs ran alongside. Ten minutes later the last youngster had fallen away, the angens had established their normal rhythm, and the runner had begun to wonder whether his stomach would ever become accustomed to the rocking motion. He rubbed his amulet in hopes that it could counter motion sickness and soon felt better.