Pliocene Exile - The Adversary Part 78

"That treacherous b.a.s.t.a.r.d! That conniving little trickster!"

Sharn punched the lowest stud. A green flash obliterated a single swan. The rest of the flock scattered, terrified by the concussion.

"The Sword is still entirely adequate for its legitimate purpose," Betularn noted austerely, "and its symbolic value is unimpaired. The Foe has been extremely clever."

Sharn choked back his rage. "I suppose you're right. But to be cheated in this flagrant way! It's-it's-"

"Typical of the times," said the Lord of the Howlers in a calm, sad voice. He rea.s.sumed his humanoid shape. "The heat becomes most oppressive, my liege. Shall we return to the peace of Nionel?" Sugoll bowed slightly to Betularn. "I offer you and your troops our hospitality as well, White Hand."

"My thanks," said the general, "but we may as well get on with making camp here in the Field, in antic.i.p.ation of the games.

I'll come by for supper after I get the lads and la.s.ses squared away."

Sugoll nodded. "Only a few guests are in the hostel buildings as yet, but the facilities are quite ready for occupancy. Or have you brought your own equipment?"

"Everything we could possibly need," Betularn replied, "plus a little bit more."

WALTER: Do you hear, son?

VEIKKO: Dad! At last. Jeez, you're loud. You must be awfully close.

WALTER: Less than 300 kilometres north of you there in Goriah, up in the Gulf of Armorica.

VEIKKO: How?

WALTER: All those storms. We ran before 'em.

VEIKKO: You ran ... in Kyllikki? Oh, my G.o.d. You must be out of your mind! Or were you doing your best toWALTER: What do you think?

VEIKKO: Marc didn't realize?

WALTER: He hasn't been here that often, and he's never voyaged aboard Kyllikki before. Remember that back in the Rye Harbour Yacht Club, the most boat he ever had under him was a 20-metre Nicholson. Nice craft, but it doesn't clue you to the whims of a four-poster schooner. Besides, I played it straight, conned her the best I could. If we'd taken the plunge it would have been kismet. Actually, Marc was rather gratified at the turn of speed I managed. And our keeping inside the storm track must have played hob with attempts to fa.r.s.ense us.

VEIKKO: n.o.body in Goriah has the faintest notion where you are. Hagen was out of his mind. He got me to try fa.r.s.ensing you. [Chuckle.] Somehow I just couldn't get a fix ... Then he wanted to send a flyer to hunt and zap, but the King nixed that. Something funny's going on, Walter. This morning Cloud, Hagen, and the King took off with Elizabeth and some hot-shot Tanu stooge of hers. Body-flying, for chrissake, when we've got these perfectly good aircraft. n.o.body here knowsWALTER: It's Marc.

VEIKKO: ?.

WALTER: His final appeal to you children.

VEIKKO: You mean, if Hagen doesn't agree to stop work on the time-gate, it'll be no holds barred from now on?

WALTER: That's about the size of it. You realize, don't you, that Marc has been the voice of sweet reason all along, refusing to harm you if there was any possible alternative. Castellane and Warshaw and most of the other magnates favoured hitting you kids with the full load, at the first possible opportunity.

VEIKKO: You evened the odds for us, Walter. You and Manion.

I told Diane what her father did. She wasn't surprised. Hagen was.

WALTER: He would be, poor devil.

VEIKKO: ... What shall I do now? I can't target you for the King, Dad. I can't.

WALTER: Now that we're near the mainland, it's going to be tough for anybody to fa.r.s.ense us. Ragnar Gathen and ArneRolf Lillestrom wired up a psychoelectronic fuzzer during the voyage. Crude, but probably effective enough to defeat longrange peeking. Has the King got any mechanical scanners?

VEIKKO: An IR with a range of about 70 kloms, and the aircraft have some kind of ground-combers. Can't you get away?

WALTER: Don't worry about it.

VEIKKO: But I do ... You know I do.

WALTER: If Marc's proposing to tell Hagen and Cloud what I think he is, you may find all our problems solved.

VEIKKO: ? !! ... No matter what Marc promises, we're going to build the Guderian device.

WALTER: Possibly.

VEIKKO: We're all agreed, Dad. Well ... most of us. And the King's on our side.

WALTER: Wait, just the same, until you hear the proposal.

VEIKKO: Walter, you're not switching to his side? G.o.d!

WALTER: I'm on your side, Veik. Always. Now listen. Don't try to contact me again unless you do agree to Marc's proposal.

It'll be too dangerous for both of us. You're almost within Castellane's tracking range now, and if she told Marc what we were doing ... Well, I still might be useful to you if I stay alive. Dead, I'm only useful if I take Kyllikki with me.

VEIKKO: But what'll IWALTER: Wait. It can't be much longer. Goodbye, Veikko.

VEIKKO: Goodbye, Dad.

CHAPTER THREE.

Basil opened his eyes to blurred obscurity. There was red illumination overall and superimposed upon it, subtly writhing, an intricate branched pattern like veins. He heard the soft, regular hiss of surf. He heard a m.u.f.fled cardiac drumbeat: dum-dum (skip) dum-dum (skip) dum-dum (skip). His memory furnished a tune to fit-"Zwei Hertzen in Dreivierteltakt." He thought: No, it's only one heart in three-quarter time. Mine. In an artificial womb. Constatne?

"Quite right, old friend."

A pale-coloured blob hovered above eye level. The haziness was abruptly clarified as something crackling and transparent, resembling pla.s.s membrane, was stripped away from his face.

He saw an El Greco angel wearing a golden torc. He said to it, "Well, Creyn. Have I been in Skin?"

"For two days."

"I feel very comfortable," Basil said. The light brightened a bit and took on a more normal spectrum. He was aware of other Tanu standing in the shadowed recesses of the chamber. The carved timbering, stucco walls and baroque window shutters were certainly those of the Black Crag chalet. "So he brought me here. How perfectly splendid! ... But surely my bones can't have knit already?

"We'll see." Creyn continued to unwrap him, stuffing the used Skin membrane into a scarlet pouch. He said over his shoulder, "Lord Healer, will you do the microscan?"

A taller Tanu, dressed like Creyn in red-and-white robes, stepped closer. His eyes with their pinpoint pupils were faded blue with glints of other colours, like certain opals. Except for deep lines about the mouth, his face was youthful. He had hair like fine-spun platinum.