by Ron Goulart
Smith told him, “Read the numbers off to me and then write down what I say once I go into my trance or whatever.”
“You’d best sit down first, old man.”
Smith took a wicker chair. “Go ahead,” he said.
CHAPTER 26
A pair of white doves came fluttering down through the waning day, settling in the remains of an arched window in the tumbled down wall of the ruined temple. Smith glanced away from them to look once again down through the darkening forest that covered most of the hillside.
He saw Jennifer at last, climbing up from the pathway below. The oncoming night seemed to be following her, blackening the woodlands in her wake.
Smith forced himself to stay where he was beside the ruined grey stone wall.
“Well, what’s on your mind?” she asked when she was still a dozen yards from him.
“You’re late. I thought maybe—”
“Benton arrived just after you called,” Jennifer told him. “I had to wait until he wasn’t with me.”
Smith sat on a fallen, moss-streaked column. “There are some things we have to talk over.”
“So you mentioned.” She sat next to him, stretching out her legs. “Funny, I never expected we’d be here together again.”
The dusk closed in all around them, filling this skeleton of what had been centuries ago the altar room.
“Neither did I,” said Smith.
“Jared…I really was fond of you back then.”
“I know.”
“I’m not lying. You and I have always been honest with each other.”
“That’s not exactly the impression I ended up with.”
“You and I could never have had a successful life together. You weren’t the sort of man to…well, no matter. It’s all over and done.”
“Not the kind of man to lead a stable, responsible life. That’s what your father told me when he suggested I cease forcing my attentions on you.”
“Daddy was right, wasn’t he? I know what sort of life you’ve lived the past few—”
“How come he was so certain about my future?”
“He’d worked out a way of testing all you Horizon Kids,” replied Jennifer. “When he showed me the results of the tests he’d done with you—”
“That’s the reason?” Smith stood. “You did this to me all those years ago because your damn father showed you some projections of what I might turn out—”
“He was right. You screwed up years of your life and there’s no reason why I should have—”
“It might not have happened if—”
“What difference does that make now?”
“You loved me. I loved you. But you let that bastard convince you—”
“Don’t talk about my father that way.” She stood to face him. “And as for loving you…I’m not really sure I ever felt anything but…well, I hate to say this, Jared, but I was…sorry for you mostly.”
He took a slow careful breath, then said, “Let’s move to other matters.”
“That would be better. I really am sorry you’ve been brooding about this all these—”
“Why didn’t you tell me I was one of the ten?”
Jennifer turned away from him. The forest was dark now. “That was Benton’s idea,” she said. “He wasn’t sure you could be trusted, because of what had happened with you and me.”
“You told him about that?”
“He’s my husband.”
“When you warned me to be careful, you could’ve told me then.”
“I wasn’t sure of you either.”
“So you figured that when I brought in the five missing Horizon Kids, you’d whisper the triggering numbers in my ear,” he said. “I’d go obligingly glassy-eyed, recite my part of the formula your dear old dad had hidden away in my skull.”
“Yes, something like that, yes.”
“Games,” he said. “You’ve been trying to play games with me.”
“I don’t want to remind you that you’re working for us,” Jennifer said. “And, I must add, you haven’t thus far done a very satisfactory job. According to the Whistler Agency reports none of the missing people has been found. Considering the fees paid by Triplan I was expecting—”
“I’ve got them all.”
Jennifer took a step closer to him. “The Horizon Kids? Then why haven’t you reported that, turned them over to—”
“Several reasons. I want to keep them alive. Oscar Ruiz, Liz, Winiarsky and me.”
“Leaving them off somewhere that Syndek can—”
“Syndek didn’t kill Hal Larzon.”
“Of course they did. I—”
“Nope. I can prove that.”
“There’s no one else who could’ve done anything like that.”
“There are at least three people,” Smith told her. “Of those three, I’d vote for Benton Arloff, since—”
“Yes, I see.” She swung out across the darkness between them, slapping him, hard, across the cheek. “You go into business for yourself, betray mother and me and then try to frame my husband for—”
“Jennifer, it isn’t Syndek and it’s not the Trinidad Law Bureau,” he said evenly. “Now, if your husband could make you all believe that somebody like Syndek was out to trap the secret holders and kill them, he—”
“We already had Larzon’s part, before he was killed. So what—”
“He could eventually kill some of the Kids you hadn’t reached yet, after he got what he needed,” said Smith. “And, most likely, once he’d established the idea that the opposition wasn’t above killing, I was the most obvious candidate for that. Actually, I’m not sure he wasn’t figuring to kill all of us. That way he’d have the information and there’d be no way for you to get it. To get the transmutation process all to himself—”
“How’d you find out what the secret was?”
“I’m an investigator, remember. I find out things.”
Jennifer shook her head. “You’re wrong,” she said. “We’ll go down to Horizon House right now, talk to Benton. He’ll convince you.”
“No need for that, love,” said the tall, thickset man who stepped from behind a slice of ruined temple wall. Even in the new night they could see the silver kilgun in his right hand.
“Benton, why did you follow me?”
“Because, darling,” answered her husband, “your old buddy Smith is right about me.”
CHAPTER 27
Jennifer watched her husband walking toward them. “Benton, I don’t understand—”
“No doubt Smith does.”
Smith said, “All is better than a third.”
“Exactly,” said Arloff, smiling at them both.
“But we…love each other.”
“Later on, love, we can talk about it,” her husband said. “Right now, though, I’m going to deprive you of Smith’s company.”
“You didn’t kill Hal Larzon,” she said, unsure.
“I did, yes. And for the very reason your clever former beau mentioned.” He gestured at Smith with the kilgun. “I’ll have to take you someplace where I can persuade you to tell me where the others are.”
“I doubt you can accomplish that, Arloff.”
Arloff laughed. “Oh, there’s not a doubt in my mind,” he said. “After that, and after I’ve gathered in the last bits of the puzzle, then I’ll see about arranging some accidents and disappearances for you Horizon Kids.”
Jennifer said quietly, “You aren’t going to kill him, Benton.”
“You actually, darling, don’t have a hell of a lot of say in the matter.”
“Benton,” she said, even more quietly.
That made him turn toward her. “Really now, Jenny.”
She’d taken a small kilgun from the pocket of her jacket. It was aimed at her husband. “You’d just,” she said, “better go away from here.”
Laughing again, he started easing to her. “I know you, love,” he said. “You can’t shoot me, no matter what you think or
feel.”
“I won’t let you kill Jared.”
“You will because…oof.”
Smith had leaped at the distracted Arloff.
The doves went flapping up into the darkness.
As the two men fell Smith got a grip on Arloff’s gun-wrist. They rolled and tumbled on the stone temple floor.
Grunting, Arloff tried to knee him in the groin. Smith twisted, avoided that.
The thickset man strained, struggling to regain control of the kilgun. Smith was forced to let go of his wrist for a second, then caught it again.
In that instant the gun went off, sending a thin line of crackling crimson light slicing across the night.
Arloff made a terrible keening sound when the beam touched him. His face began to smoke and go black. Stumbling back and away, Smith stood.
Arloff made three jerking movements, shoulders and arms shaking. Then he was dead, smoke rising up from his ruined head.
Bending, Smith picked up the kilgun. He held it gingerly, as though it were dirty.
“You killed him,” Jennifer said.
Smith, he had no idea why, grinned. “I wasn’t exactly planning to, but—”
“It doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter.”
He crossed to her, reached out the hand that didn’t hold the kilgun. “Jennifer, there’s nothing—”
“It’s all right, Jared,” she said. “But, please, don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me anymore. Don’t follow me.” She left him there and went hurrying downhill through the night forest.
* * * *
Saint rewound the plaid muffler around his neck. The fog was thick and prickly in the quirky lane. “A sad turn of events,” he remarked.
Cruz said, “He may not be in this public house either.”
“One hopes not, but judging from what Jennifer told us when we called at Horizon House in quest of him, I fear the worst.”
Cruz pushed open the sewdooak door of the Snerg & Racket with his metal hand. “I lose the bet, there’s Smith yonder.”
There were some twenty or so patrons in the snug room, most of them at the small tables ringing the deep blazing fireplace. Two played at airdarts in a far corner.
Smith sat at a table alone, both hands locked around a glass.
“Not that the chap doesn’t have a perfect right to backslide under the circumstances,” said Saint.
Cruz led the way to Smith. “How’re you faring, old chum?”
Smith looked up at him. “It was Arloff,” he said. “He’s dead, up at the temple ruins. We’ll have to notify the local law soon.”
Saint rubbed at his nose, frowning down at Smith. “Jove, you’re perfectly sober.”
“He’s drinking sparkling water,” said Cruz, seating himself opposite.
“No more binges,” said Smith. “That only happened in my youth. And that’s over.”
“Forgive me for having so little faith.” Saint dusted the third chair before sitting.
Smith nodded. “We’d better get back to the satellite,” he said, finishing his drink. “I just came in here to warm up. Seems damn chilly out tonight.”
“Deucedly so,” agreed Saint.
CHAPTER 28
From the living room of Smith’s hotel suite he could see the stretch of beach where he and Jennifer had walked when he’d first arrived on Zegundo. The afternoon was grey.
Smith was sitting in a plaz slingchair, hunched, chin resting on his steepled fingers.
The voxbox in the room’s ceiling made a throatclearing noise before announcing, “An unsavory gentleman with a suspicious moustache and a dangerous right arm is at the door, sire, accompanied by a clinging blonde humanoid young woman.”
“Show them in.” Smith stretched up out of the chair.
“You’re absolutely certain, sire, that you wish to—”
“In, yes.”
Cruz had his arm around Jazz Miller’s waist. “I return from the meeting with Jennifer and her mother at the Triplan headquarters with glad tidings,” he announced.
“Me, I didn’t even get to sit in,” complained Jazz. “All these terrific news stories are breaking all about me and I don’t even get the chance to—”
“Recline someplace,” advised Cruz, letting go of her. “Calamity,” she said. “I was being a nag again, huh?” She took a seat on the lucite sofa.
Smith asked, “They agreed to the terms?”
“You could’ve attended this confab, Jared. Both the ladies were quite cordial,” said Cruz. “Tea was served.”
“I wasn’t certain Jennifer would want to see me.”
“She asked after you.”
“Oh, so?”
“I informed her you were pining and sulking here in Suite 1304 of the Selva Plaza.”
“And you told her I was leaving the planet at midnight?”
“I managed to mention that, yes.” He sat in a tin slingchair. “She knows how to get in touch with you.”
“Okay,” said Smith, starting to pace. “Are they going to draw up papers and all?”
Cruz nodded. “Yes, although this deal has to remain more or less under the table for now.”
“I can’t even do a dinky three-minute spot on the news about it,” mentioned Jazz, folding her arms under her breasts.
“One million trubux for each of the surviving Horizon Kids and a pro rata share of half the profits?” said Smith.
“They agreed so swiftly, I’m thinking we well might have persuaded them to put up a larger sum in front.”
“The deal’s okay as it stands.”
Rubbing at his metal hand, Cruz said, “You should have your money within a month. That puts you in an entirely different status position, old chum. What do you intend to—”
“Not sure. I’m going back to the Barnum System for awhile. Haven’t figured what’ll happen beyond that.”
Cruz stood. “This has been a gratifying association, and not merely because of the bonus all you Horizon House grads are bestowing on Saint and myself.” He held out his right hand. “Should you want me for any further adventures, you can reach me here on Zegundo.”
“Don’t go offering him any jobs that are going to get him killed,” cautioned Jazz.
Smith and Cruz shook hands.
* * * *
The pixphone buzzed at a few moments beyond three in the afternoon.
“Might be Jennifer,” Smith told himself, striding to the phone alcove in the suite living room. “Hello?”
Saint’s green face popped onto the screen. “Jove, you look deuced glum for a chap who’s just become rich for life.”
“I always look glum on phone screens,” Smith told him. “Nothing more than an electronic trick. How are you?”
“Quite content,” Saint answered. “As soon as I collect the handsome bonus you tots have bestowed, I’ll be embarking for Terzero.”
“A job?”
“A baroness. This time, however, a quite lovely lady in her late thirties. She once suggested that should I ever give up my shameful life of crime, she’d like to see more of me.”
“Are you reforming?”
“Until the current influx of fortune runs out, at least,” Saint said. “Take care and should you ever again have need of an accomplished, not to mention charming, telek, do contact me. I can be reached at the Villa Splendide on Terzero.”
“Okay, and good luck.”
He returned to his chair and sat watching the ocean far below.
“Hangdog look defined.” The floating Whistler terminal materialized a few feet in front of him.
“Move. You’re blocking the splendid view.”
Staying where it was, the terminal said, “You’re not going to go back to wallowing in gutters, are you?”
“Not on my agenda, no.”
“Good. You do have a certain potential and you may eventually live up to it.”
“Your glowing compliments are always appreciated in this quarter.”
“I’ve come to inform you that there are
no hard feelings,” said Whistler. “You held up our clients for a bundle, but you also solved the case and did what we were hired to do. So the Whistler organization isn’t going to be fuddyduddy about this.”
Smith said, “If everybody’d leveled with us from the start, we—”
“No matter. The point is, the outfit is satisfied with you, and your crew. It’s possible that in the future we’ll call on you again. Interested?”
“Might be. Working for Suicide, Inc. has been great fun.”
“We’ll meet again.” Whistler vanished.
An hour later the pixphone sounded again.
“She’ll probably call, if only to say goodbye.”
This time it was Deac Constiner. “Hello, nitwit,” the Trinidad Law Bureau agent commenced.
“You’re very cordial. Do many people compliment you on that qualit—”
“I don’t have any proof of this,” said Constiner. “But I think you and your goons have sabotaged me and done me physical harm all along the way. Since you’re now fleeing the planet, I also assume you’ve rounded up the remaining Horizon Kids and sold them to your client.”
“Did you say you had proof? I didn’t quite catch—”
“No, you dimwit, I don’t have proof.” Constiner’s leathery face looked like it was rapidly becoming drier. “If I did, your arse would be reposing in the hoosegow at this very moment. Should I ever come up with so much as a scrap, beware.”
“I’ll be on Barnum for a spell. Can you extradite me from—”
“I’ll extradite you from the furthest little pissant planet in the remotest galaxy in this nitwit universe. I’ll…and, another thing, Smith. I don’t believe that flap-doodle about Benton Arloff.”
“Which flapdoodle is that, Deac?”
“That he was accidentally killed while hunting.”
“Sounds plausible to me. I know the guy was a real gun enthusiast.”
“What I don’t understand is how come you didn’t end up in the sack with the widow.”
Smith grinned thinly. “Because I’m a decent, law-abiding fellow.” He hung up.
