Coming of Age (29 page)

J
ARVIS'S AUTOMATIC REACTION WAS
to jerk back from the flying glass; but he'd barely turned away from the windows when his body froze in place, as if caught in an invisible, infinitely soft vise. Lisa, in his line of sight, thrashed like a hooked fish for a few seconds more before her body, too, went rigid. Turning his head a few degrees, he could see Tirrell's stiff form balanced precariously halfway to the door.

“Everybody just relax,” a youthful voice said from behind Jarvis. “Prophet!” he shouted. “We've got 'em!”

The shout was answered by footsteps; and a moment later a middle-aged man strode into the study, accompanied by two more preteen boys. “Good morning,” he said with mock politeness, his eyes flicking across the others and coming to rest on Jarvis. “Doctor, it's a pleasure to meet you.”

“I'm sure all the pleasure's yours,” Jarvis said coldly. “Who are you, and how dare you break into a private residence?”

The man's smile didn't even flicker. “You may call me the Prophet Omega,” he said. “My goal is Truth—and I understand you have a bit of truth I would like to have.”

Jarvis felt his blood turn to ice water. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Of course not,” Omega said, still smiling. “I'm sure you'll figure it out shortly.” His eyes swept the room briefly. “Where's the boy?”

“In the living room,” Jarvis told him, his brain starting to work again. “But don't touch him—he could die if he's moved.”

A slight frown creased the other's forehead. “Why?”

“It's a side effect of the drug I've been giving him,” Jarvis explained. “It puts him into a deep sleep and makes his brain extremely susceptible to position changes for several hours.”

Omega studied his face for a long moment in silence. Then he stepped back outside the study and looked into the living room. “Watch the boy—make sure he doesn't move,” he instructed someone there. “Axel, go see if the righthand confirms that.”

One of the boys nodded and flew out the door. “What have you done with Tonio?” Tirrell asked, his tone one of barely controlled fury.

“Oh, we just sneaked up on him from under the trees,” Omega said, waving nonchalantly. “He was a bit faster than we expected, actually, but as we were already in position, his warning was a waste of time. He's unhurt, if that's what you're worried about.”

“Well, if you want to remain the same, you'd better take your mob and disappear,” the detective snapped. “This place is going to be crawling with police inside of half an hour.”

Omega looked pointedly at the disassembled phone and shook his head. “Admirable try, Detective, but I doubt seriously we're in any danger at all of being disturbed. Your histrionic anger isn't going to panic us into running until we're good and ready.”

“How'd you find this place?” Tirrell asked coldly. The fury was gone from his voice, and Jarvis realized suddenly it
had
been an act, apparently designed to lend credence to the “slip” of telling the other that reinforcements were on the way.

“Oh, it was simplicity itself.” Omega stepped over to the desk and began leafing idly through the top notebook. “You see, Tirrell, as usual you made all the wrong assumptions and wound up one step behind me. You hear from Lisa that I've taken off and you immediately jump to the conclusion that the kids I took with me were the only forces I had. It never even occurred to you that I might have more in Rand, Barona, and Plat City, and that I might send messengers en route to go get them … and so naturally you never bothered to look over your shoulder while Lisa pointed out the turnoff to you. But thank you—you three saved all of us a lot of work.”

Tirrell said nothing … but Jarvis felt the first glimmering of hope. He knew little about fagins or other criminals, but he'd long since discovered that people who couldn't resist explaining how clever they'd been tended to underestimate everyone else—a weakness he might just be able to exploit. …A moment later Axel was back. “The righthand says the same thing,” he reported. “The kid'll die if we move him.”

Omega nodded. “I see. Well … no matter.” He walked back from the desk to again face Jarvis. “Well, Doctor, shall we collect all of your notes and be on our way?”

“You can just go take a flying leap at yourself,” Jarvis said evenly, a defiant set to his jaw. “I'm not going with you, and if you think I'm going to just hand over my work, you're totally crazy.”

Omega sighed. “Don't waste my time,” he said, gesturing toward the clutter on Jarvis's desk. “If necessary we can take everything in this place that isn't nailed down and sort through it at our leisure.”

“Only if you've got degrees in biochemistry, endocrinology, and cellular physiology—
and
can read the chicken scratches I use for handwriting,” Jarvis retorted. “Besides which, you don't even know what you're looking for.”

“I've got a pretty good idea,” Omega said calmly. But his expression was growing increasingly unfriendly. “And the simple fact that you're resisting so strongly indicates your discovery is indeed a valuable one. So let me put it another way.” His gaze switched to Lisa and Tirrell. “If you don't cooperate in getting your materials together, your two friends here will suffer.”

Someone behind Jarvis muttered uneasily, the sound cut off by a sharp look from Omega. Jarvis's own mouth felt dry. “You're bluffing,” he said weakly.

Omega's eyes bored into his. “Must I demonstrate?”

Jarvis dropped his eyes, letting the defiance in his face crumble. “You can have my notes, but I won't help you any more than that.”

Omega smiled scornfully. “Of course. All right, collect everything together and put them in a file or something for transport.” He gestured.

The teekay grip holding Jarvis vanished abruptly, and he almost fell before his leg muscles were able to react. “I want some guarantee first that you won't harm the others,” he told Omega.

Omega spread his hands. “I can give you my word, certainly, but I'm afraid you'll just have to trust me on that. But as long as I have your discovery I have no reason to harm anyone.”

His voice was quiet, sincere. Jarvis glanced at Lisa and Tirrell—the latter's eyes shifting left and right in an obvious
no!
signal—and then nodded heavily. “All right.”

Stepping back to his desk, with a watchful preteen at each shoulder, the scientist began piling together his notebooks and files. When he was finished he reached under the desk and pulled out a portable file box. Setting it on the desk chair, he unfastened the catch and swung the lid back. Carefully, he began to stack the papers at one end, hoping no one would notice that, unlike standard file boxes, this one was completely glass-lined. A moment later he was finished; and setting in a spring-loaded brace rod to hold everything in place, he started to close the lid.

“Now put in all the drugs you've been using,” Omega said. “Wrap the bottles carefully, of course.”

Jarvis hesitated, making sure none of his grim satisfaction showed on his face. As long as Omega had the notes the drugs themselves were unnecessary, but Jarvis had banked on his being greedy. Letting his shoulders slump a bit more, he stepped to his work table and unlocked its deep drawer. From it he drew four vials of brown fluid, one each containing milky white and pale pink substances, and two large glass-stoppered Erlenmeyer flasks filled to the necks with a clear liquid. Taking everything back to the desk, he wrapped each piece of glassware in strips of material that looked like nothing so much as long, thin sandbags wrapped in tissue paper. Omega, fortunately, didn't wonder why he had such convenient packing material on hand, at least not out loud. Each piece, once wrapped, went into the file box with the notebooks. When they were all in place, he stuffed more of the flexible strips between them, until they were wedged tightly together. Under cover of that activity, he made sure the stoppers of both flasks were loose. Finally, he closed the lid and fastened the catch. “All right,” he said, picking up the box and turning to face Omega again. “This is—”

And without warning he flipped the box upside down onto the floor.

Omega's bellow and movement were simultaneous. Crossing the floor in two long strides, he snatched up the box and turned it over. With nimble fingers he pried open the catch and threw back the lid—and barely got out of the way of the waist-high flames that roared up from the opening.

Omega shrieked a blasphemy as pandemonium erupted in the room, but Jarvis paid no attention to the noise and fury. For the moment, at least, every eye was on the fire … and he and the others were free.

He got just a glimpse of Lisa as she shot past him and out one of the broken windows; an instant later a hand closed hard on his wrist and Tirrell half led, half hauled him out of the study.

“Wait! What about Colin?” Jarvis whispered as Tirrell skidded to a halt by the cabin door and threw a quick glance outside. Jarvis couldn't see anyone, but from the flurry of shouts it was obvious Lisa had been spotted.

“For now, we leave him,” Tirrell whispered back. “It's more important we get
you
out of here while Lisa's got their attention. If I can, I'll come back and get him.” He looked outside again. “Okay,
go!
”

Tirrell's shove in the middle of his back ended any chance for argument. With a fast prayer for Colin's safety, Jarvis headed for the densest part of the woods as fast as his legs would take him. It would have been nice to snatch up one of the hidden smoke bombs on the way, but there were none in his immediate path and he didn't dare squander the few seconds he might have by trying to get to one. He'd do better to just concentrate on getting to the dead conetree half a kilometer away where he'd cached the survival gear he'd expected he and Colin would eventually need to use.

The trees were five meters away now, and he could hear Tirrell's pounding footsteps behind him … three meters away … two …

And his rear leg snapped painfully backward as the ground it had been pushing against abruptly vanished from beneath him. Simultaneously, the leg was yanked high above his waist, and with a thud that knocked most of the air out of him he slammed chest-first into the ground.

The stars of his landing had barely cleared when Tirrell landed hard beside him.

The preteen who'd thrown them let them lie gasping for a minute before teeking them up and returning them to the cabin. The study was still in an uproar, though, and they were kept out of the way near the outer door until things quieted down. By the time Omega sent for them, Jarvis's breathing was almost back to normal.

The study was a mess. Water from the frantic fire-fighting efforts lay puddled in various places on the floor, and the air was heavy with a foul stench. Tipped onto its side in the middle of the room, the file box's glass lining was black with soot, the vials and flasks inside barely visible amid the ashes.

“By all rights, Doctor, I should have you killed for that stunt.”

Jarvis turned his attention to Omega. “You're probably right,” he said coolly, ignoring the tightness in his stomach. His plan had worked, and the expected consequences now had to be faced. “Why don't you go ahead and do it? If your followers are willing to kill for you, that is.”

For a long moment Omega said nothing, his singed hair and bright red forehead framing an expression that was nothing short of murderous. Slowly, the fury faded, to be replaced by something merely bitter. “I underestimated you,” he acknowledged at last, his voice almost calm. “How did you do that, anyway?

“Sulfuric acid in the flasks, a mixture of potassium chlorate and sugar wrapped in tissue paper as the packing material,” Jarvis told him. “The reaction is extremely exothermic, and when you opened the lid the rush of oxygen caused all the paper to spontaneously ignite. I'd had the stuff ready to use ever since I realized the police were onto me,” he added, glancing at Tirrell. “If I'd had a little more warning of Detective Tirrell's visit, I'd have had everything in the box, ready to go.”

“I suppose the drugs that were in there were also destroyed?”

Jarvis nodded. “Very much so. Complex organic molecules fall apart easily in that kind of heat.'

A movement outside caught Jarvis's attention, and he turned as three kids escorted a rigid-limbed Lisa through the window. “Well!” Omega said, turning as the girl was teeked to the floor. “At least we made a clean sweep. You have any trouble, Case?”

The boy addressed swallowed visibly. “Not too much with her, sir … but the righthand got away.”

“He
what?
” Omega's satisfaction vanished.

“We couldn't help it, sir—when she flew out the window everyone looked, and he just shook off the hands on him and took off.” The words were coming in a rush as the boy tried to vindicate himself. “We tried to catch him, but when we looked back he teeked a bunch of branches right in our faces … and by then
she
was loose again, so we had to chase both or them, and …” He shrugged helplessly. “Adom and the others are still looking for him, but I don't think they even know where he is anymore.”

Tirrell snorted derisively. “Where he is, is halfway to civilization and a police force big enough to mop up your little group in five minutes. If you don't want a genuine battle on your hands, you'd better take your junior goons and get the hell out of here.”

“Shut up, Tirrell,” Omega said thoughtfully. “Doctor, you've left me no choice. You're going to have to come with us. Now.”

“Prophet, if you want I'll take a couple of the others and go look for the righthand,” Axel offered. “He can't have gotten
that
far.”

“It's not worth it,” Omega told him. “Why don't you go get the knapsack from where we left it and bring it here.”