Stone Blade

by James Cox

  Again Velvert returned to the tapestry of his making. Today would tear a rent in it the League and its minions would find hard to overcome!

  ***

  With a solid plan formed, Micah, Ferrel and Kidwell left for their first objective. The trip stopped far short: it didn't even last past the first public holovee. The crowd, gathered there for the latest information and anti-League vitriol, buzzed with different news.

  Aaron Reynolds Loglain, First of the Circle and beloved of his peers, was dead!

  Micah and Kidwell mingled through the crowds gathering information and rumors. After a while Micah swapped with Ferrel who had claimed a table and newsfeed at a nearby cafe. Micah ordered tea absently and continued Ferrel's notes. Before long Ferrel and Kidwell both settled there.

  “Fact,” started Kidwell,”ninety percent plus: suicide. No one who knows is talking but there are always leaks. Someone, either the maid or the guard, was taken to the hospital early this morning. Probably the maid; the guards would go to the military facility. Besides, she'd be the first to see him” Kidwell scowled at one of the newsfeeds. “Official unofficial sources are hinting at martyrdom and there's some clumsy effort to involve the League.”

  “Ironic,” nodded Micah. By Unity standards suicide was the ultimate in arrogance, inhumility, presumption and a multitude of other sins. Martyrdom under identical circumstances was considered highest honor.

  “No mention of vinostim, of course,” continued Kidwell, “but they'd keep that tight.”

  “Agreed,” said Micah, “and while I detest being callous, this might be an opportunity.”

  Kidwell swallowed hard but nodded in agreement.

  “It put a proper ripple in the works. Give me some time and I'll calculate the diminishment of importance toward the prisoners.”

  Micah started to agree when something clicked and a revelation hit him hard.

  “Let's get private,” he whispered urgently, “Now!”

  ***

  “A message?” Doubt tinged Ferrel's voice. “From?”

  “Or a warning,” said Micah, “Or cleaning up a loose end. Think about it. Loglain was followed. So far none of the others have been.”

  “That we saw,” added Kidwell.

  “We neutralized them,” continued Micah with a nod to Kidwell, “But I simply assumed they were working for Tollison.”

  “We assumed,” corrected Kidwell.

  “Regardless, we've been as careful as we can and we're still alive and free, but we've overlooked a wager or three. At least one person on this planet will have brain enough to deduce an unknown League presence. Professional paranoia, if nothing else. They won't find us unless we really rut the puppy so they've started cleaning up loose information.”

  “They took Loglain because he was the only one they know for certain was compromised,” said Ferrel, “So why not just make him vanish?”

  Micah fell silent. He'd not thought quite that far.

  “Maybe 'they' can't,” supplied Kidwell, “We know Tollison had leverage on Loglain. Suppose the nature of that leverage would put Tollison on the spot. Coercion isn't necessarily a crime but concealing evidence of wrongdoing is. Or it might not be Tollison. We may be dealing with someone who, while intelligent and informed, lacks the authority to act. Factor in the societal mix we have here and its attitude toward authority.”

  “So 'they' may be just as constrained as we are,” said Ferrel.

  “Or not,” responded Micah, “Those are good hypotheses but not testable ones. We must assume 'they' can act without restriction.” Micah saw Kidwell's wheels start to turn. “But we will search for one or more of them. Vera, how will this affect our plan?”

  Kidwell thought hard a moment. “One major way only. When we take someone down we'll either have to take them all at once and risk a few slipping past or take the one so hard 'they' won't have a chance to react.”

  “Which only makes our life harder,” said Micah.

  Ferrel nodded.

  Chapter 14. The Price of Virtue

  Micah drooped on a bench seemingly reading his Writ. Not far away Kidwell flitted amongst a crowd. Ferrel sat behind the wheel of a rented hovertruck. When Orris emerged they'd cover him like a blanket! All three of them had pondered the choice of targets but Kidwell's argument finally persuaded Micah. Of the lot, Orris had the least apparent connection to any of the others.

  Success! Orris emerged from the Dome, looked around and boarded a public hover and one not bound toward his home! Micah boarded the same bus well before it departed and sat where he could see Orris. A quick check showed Ferrel and Kidwell hovering away. They knew where this bus would stop and they'd beat it there. If Orris changed buses Ferrel or Kidwell would follow him while Micah changed faces.

  Orris did indeed change hovers. The second led tangentially toward lowtown. Micah and Kidwell waited where he and Ferrel exited.

  “If he stays true to form,” said Kidwell, “he'll hit the jake and come out different.”

  Different enough to fool a casual observer, thought Micah. He checked the new Orris for others trailing him.

  “Now back to the hover,” said Kidwell, “And this one goes where he wants it. His house of solace” Kidwell spoke this last with bitterness.

  She left the truck and just managed to catch Orris' bus before Micah could chide her. Micah mentally ground his teeth but she was far from the last to board. By the time Ferrel settled in Micah already had the truck moving.

  Even with Kidwell's preparation Micah found their destination shocking. The entire neighborhood huddled in squalid misery. Especially so the building Orris entered. Three ladies sat on the building's steps and shared a bottle. Openly. The stigmata of neglect and decay infected every surface Micah saw.

  One of the ladies on the steps looked at Micah, Ferrel, or Kidwell but made no move other than to display herself. The inside of the building was better than its outside but not by much. Eight ladies lounged about the room in various stages of dress or display while an older woman spoke harshly to one of them. A large and shaggy man sat by the door with a heavy cudgel in easy reach. Micah saw no sign of Orris. After a moment the older woman approached them.

  “Welcome to my house, brothers and sister. I am Dora Delight. How may we serve you this day?”

  “Take us to the man who just arrived,” said Micah in his coldest voice.

  Several brief emotions crossed Delight's face. Along with a quick glance aside that Micah caught.

  “Are you friends,” asked Delight, “If so he'll be done quite...”

  Micah spun without warning, pivoting well inside the club's reach. He struck twice in quick succession and the bouncer collapsed flaccidly on the floor. When Micah again faced Delight he opened his robe only far enough for her to see his blaster.

  “Take us to him. Now.”

  The door to which Delight led them differed in no way from its kindred lining the second-floor hallway. Ferrel held her arm in a firm grasp. Not that flight crossed her mind. Micah's tone, plus his blaster, plus the ease with which he felled her bouncer held her docile. Only other potential guests concerned Micah.

  Micah opened the door silently and the four of them stepped quickly into the room.

  Orris sat on the side of the bed, gently holding the hand of the lady resting there. He turned before the door closed only to confront Micah's now-drawn blaster.

  “Hello, brother,” said Micah, “We've matters to discuss.”

  Orris thought to rise but a visible tension in Micah's arm kept him still.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Anger suffused Orris' face and his words. “Abase yourself, apostate, or I shall...”

  “Enough!” Micah didn't raise his voice but the command in it silenced Orris. “Abase myself? I think not, brother. I am here to discuss your transgression, not mine. Speak gently, serpent, or you shall envy death a penance.”

  Visibly granting Orris time to stew, Micah examined the room's other occupant.

&nbs
p; Jilli lay slackly against the bedboard. Even through obvious illness she shone with a strong beauty. Small pain-lines marred her face and she winced at each small movement but her eyes, radiant pools of warmth, showed a spirit that would not be dimmed.

  “What do you want?” Orris bit off the words and spat them out hot but did not make a demand of it.

  “Confession, brother, cleanses the soul. These are grievous days. Temptation and indulgence devour the righteous like maggots in rot.” Micah formed his words carefully and studied Orris with equal care.

  “Spare me your parables, Questioner. What more need I do? I vow you've asked enough already and more!”

  After assessing glances to Micah, Ferrel and Kidwell Jilli placed her hand on Orris' arm.

  “Joshua...”

  Though he tried to hide it a quick wash of care, love and compassion filled Orris' eyes. Micah tried to assemble this but Kidwell beat him to it.

  “She is your sister.” Kidwell spoke with a thread of gentleness.

  “Yes, woman,” said Orris, again with anger but no trace of fear, “Do not bother to feign surprise. I am past weary of your games and mockery. State your terms and leave me in what peace I can find!”

  Micah thought as hard and as fast as he could. This changed matters dramatically and he needed time to adjust. Of time he had none.

  “What is wrong with her,” asked Kidwell, intuiting Micah's dilemma.

  Orris clamped his mouth shut and glared. Kidwell moved to the bedside and began examining things there. Orris' anger rose as she finally sorted out several bottles.

  “Is this Parmetheid Syndrome?”

  Orris said nothing to Kidwell but Jilli spoke, even though it hurt her.

  “Yes, sister.”

  Several actions and potential plans clicked in Micah's mind. He turned to Delight.

  “Take us to a room where we may speak privately.”

  Though it galled him to do so, Orris followed. Delight led them across the hallway. At Micah's request she handed him a key.

  “Do not speak of this, sister,” admonished Micah, “else you will regret past every penance it costs you.”

  Micah motioned Orris to a seat and let him sit while Ferrel swept the room for bugs and monitors. If this affected Orris he didn't show it.

  “Well?”

  Micah holstered his blaster and sat across from Orris.

  “It appears we have a situation, Orris.” Micah fished for a reaction but found none. “Parmetheid is curable.”

  “Do you think I don't know that?” Orris gave Micah his reaction. “Do you think I've not tried? I would damn my soul to every hell known to man could I but have it! Do not taunt me or, by my soul and spirit I shall end my life in taking yours!” Orris' hands clenched and shook. “Is that not enough salt to sate you? My eyes be damned I shall obey your apostate master but do not press me so!”

  Orris spoke with simple but vehement passion. He held himself still but with the stillness of a blaster ready to fire or a cornered predator about to spring. Kidwell's datapad bleeped and she nudged Micah. While he read her message and its response, she spoke with a sincere and tranquil smile.

  “Be at peace, Seigneur Orris. You'll not damn your soul by us.”

  Orris split his gaze between the three of them. He was off edge but not far from it. Micah saw and Orris knew it.

  “Some time within the next month or so,” said Kidwell, “Ian Ramsey will receive a package for you. There will be instructions. Give it to a doctor you trust.”

  Orris nodded. A strange despair crossed his eyes.

  “You do not belong here.” A statement made with incredible resignation.

  “Truth,” said Micah, cautiously.

  “Again. What do you want?” Orris gazed firmly at Micah, determination beyond defeat strong within him. “Perhaps you believe aught has changed. It has not. Name your price.”

  “Our price?” Micah shuffled several options. “Our price is not unbearable and it is one you will gladly pay. Our citizens returned.”

  “Of course. And?”

  Micah looked at Kidwell. Orris' reactions matched nothing he'd planned to meet.

  “How many of your brothers and sisters die of needless ailments, brother.” asked Kidwell, “How many bear needless burdens that could and should be eased?”

  Micah puzzled over Kidwell's approach. Orris' anger wilted, though.

  “By Triumph and Unity,” said Orris, “a puzzle. A jest too bitter for words. Could I but end your lives with mine I should die happily now.”

  Orris smiled at Micah's surprise.

  “Of a certainty I shall damn the souls of my people here, my brothers and sisters and my children and theirs yet hold my own dearly.”

  “And Jilli?” Kidwell spoke softly.

  “How deep is this pit? I despise glory and hold honor to itself yet pride twists both to its own ends.” Orris regarded Micah. “You do not understand. Shall I bow to the mad wolf or the sane one? What will you, League man? How shall I serve you?”

  “First of all, brother,” started Micah, “there is much we might do for you. We know several within your order are applying certain pressures.”

  “Blackmail,” said Orris, “That is the word. Fitting and foul.”

  “Blackmail,” conceded Micah, “We have many details but far fewer than a man of power and position might know.”

  Suspicion clouded Orris' eyes. “Did you kill First Loglain?”

  “No, brother. That is not our way. So you will know this for truth, Loglain was addicted to vinostim. We could have used him.” Speaking that truthfully bothered Micah but Kidwell nodded slightly.

  “And is that your plan for my knowledge,” asked Orris.

  “Perhaps,” replied Micah, “or not. We seek only peaceful trade and prosperity. Nothing more. We offer peaceful trade and the opportunity to prosper. Our ambassador has made that clear.”

  “A wedge in the doorway. A splinter that festers into the infection of total conquest and control.”

  “A foundation for a doorway! As wide or as narrow as you would have it.” Micah stared at Orris evenly. “Know that for true, brother. There are full League worlds with less League than you have here now.”

  “Still...”

  “Consider this,” interjected Kidwell, “Of information, how it is used matters little. An honest man might put it toward removing those corrupted.”

  “Have I not served penance for that dream? Have I not now damned myself from it? Yes. An honest man. Where would you find one such? Did not every man of power and fame start so?”

  “Brother, all we offer is our help.”

  “Have I not accepted it?” Orris walked to the door. “By your leave I shall visit my sister. Then we shall speak again.”

  ***

  When they all emerged from the room Dora Delight nearly fainted with relief. Assured by Orris that no catastrophe would follow she offered tea and company just off the main room. The bouncer eyed Micah with open hostility but said nothing. Micah and the others accepted the tea, declined the company and spoke quietly within Micah's garble.

  When Orris entered the room he nodded toward Micah. As they joined him he handed Delight a sheaf of currency.

  “I help as I can,” he said.

  Micah nodded. He dug in his pocket and handed her a few bills of his own.

  “A question,” said Micah after they left the building, “Can you get us into the League building unseen?”

  “Likely. No, certainly. Why?”

  “There are matters to discuss. And, most likely, a pleasant revelation.”

  After a short walk they boarded a hover for another part of town. Orris thought to remove his disguise but Micah dissuaded him. Not long afterward they all changed faces with Ferrel assisting Orris into his. A quick call from Orris arranged an official hover and one of his aides to meet them in it. The man within received them with some puzzlement.

  “Georges alMarklin,” said Orris, “My closest aide
and friend. I trust him with all I hold dear.”

  As the hover drove across the legation grounds Orris chuckled.

  “Here is irony,” said Orris, “My instructions are to be the chief voice of denial to your League.”

  Inside the main building even Micah found a surprise. One Marine escorted them without ado but inside, at rigid attention and in full formal dress stood a double line of Marines. As one they drew swords and snapped to salute. At the other end stood Ian Ramsey, Karl Perry and Ted Ionoski, all garbed in their formal finest. Impressive, given the short time since Micah's call.

  “Seigneur Orris,” said Ramsey, “On behalf of the Member Worlds of the New Stars Sovereign System States Trade League I am honored to welcome you. I am also quite pleased to see you again, Third. May our meeting bring both peace and prosperity.”

  With the initial formalities satisfied Ionoski motioned Micah, Ferrel and Kidwell aside. Before long they sat at ease and a small, spy-proofed conference room with food, drink, 'sticks and instaskin remover.

  “Now, Micah. Tell the tale as you see fit but do not, repeat NOT omit a single detail!”

  ***

  After an intense debriefing Ionoski left them to rest a while. Micah took the opportunity for a decadently hot shower. By the time he finished Orris waited with Ionoski in the conference room. Orris' expression was somber but he offered Micah a firm and sincere handshake.

  “I have seen your information. I did not know the corruption was so vile and rampant. I knew of some blackmail, but still... I shall assist you as I am able.

  “Morr is a witless toady. He will follow one he deems powerful and strong in the Unity. He is quite persistent and tenacious once a path is shown him, though. He works closest with Urdon, Sixth to the Shroud but his duties would easily allow him to pursue another plan. The others he works with most frequently are Lochlie, Seventh to the Badge; Velvert, Fourth to the Badge; and Tollison.