Planet of Adventure Omnibus (62 page)

“Interesting,”
said Reith, trying to conceal his despair.

Woudiver
permitted himself to smirk. “We are in a vulnerable position. There is danger
to myself, grave danger. Should I expose myself for nothing? I assist you from
motives of comradeship and altruism of course, but I must receive my
recompense.”

“I cannot pay
so much,” said Reith. “You knew approximately the extent of my capital; now you
attempt to extort more.”

“Why not?”
Woudiver could no longer restrain a grin. “Assume that the rumors I cited are
accurate; assume that by some wild accident you and your henchmen were the
persons in question: then is it not true that you have shamefully deceived me?”

“Assuming as
much-not at all.”

“What of the
wonderful treasure?”

“It is real.
Assist me to the best of your abilities. In one month we can depart Tschai. In
another month you will be repaid beyond your dreams.”

“Where? How?”
Woudiver hitched himself forward; he loomed over Reith and his voice came deep
and rich from the far caverns of his chest. “Let me ask outright: did you
promulgate a tale that the original home of man is a far world? Or even more to
the point: do you believe this hideous fantasy?”

Reith, with
spirits plunging even deeper, tried to sidestep the quagmire. “We are dealing
with side issues. Our arrangement was clear; the rumors you mention have no
relevance.”

Woudiver
slowly, deliberately, shook his head.

“When the
spaceship leaves,” said Reith, “you shall have every sequin in my possession. I
can do no better than that. If you make unreasonable demands...” He searched
for a convincing threat.

Woudiver
tilted up the great expanse of his face, chuckled. “What can you do? You are
helpless. One word from me and you are instantly taken to the Glass Box. What
are your options? None. You must do as I demand.”

Reith looked
around the shed. In the doorway stood Artilo, applying ash-gray snuff to his
nostrils. At his belt hung a handgun.

Deine Zarre
approached. Ignoring Woudiver he spoke to Reith. “The energy-cans are not to my
order. They are a nonstandard size and appear to have been used for an indeterminate
period. They must be rejected.”

Woudiver’s
eyes narrowed, his mouth jerked. “What? They are excellent canisters.”

Deine Zarre
said in a toneless but utterly definite voice, “For our purposes they are
useless.” He departed. The boy and the girl looked after him wistfully.
Woudiver turned to examine them, with what appeared to Reith a peculiar
intensity.

Reith waited.
Woudiver swung about. For a moment he regarded Reith through narrow-lidded
eyes. “Well, then,” said Woudiver, “it seems that different energy-cans are
needed. How do you propose to pay for them?”

“In the usual
way. Take back those eight cans of junk; provide four fresh cans and submit an
itemized bill. A fair account I am able to pay just barely. Don’t forget, I
must meet labor costs.”

Woudiver
considered. Deine Zarre crossed the shed to speak to the boy and girl and
Woudiver was distracted. He strutted over to join the group. Reith, limp with
fatigue, went to the workbench and poured himself a mug of tea, which he drank
with a shaking hand.

Woudiver had
become extremely affable, and went so far as to pat the boy on the head. Deine
Zarre stood stiff, his face the color of wax.

Woudiver at
last turned away. He crossed the shed to Artilo, spoke a moment or two. Artilo
went outside, where blasts of wind sent ripples scurrying across the puddles.

Woudiver
signaled Reith with one hand, Deine Zarre with the other. The two approached.
Woudiver sighed with vast melancholy. “You two are dedicated to my poverty. You
insist on the most exquisite refinements but refuse to pay. So be it. Artilo is
taking away the canisters you so condemn. Zarre, come with me now and select
cells to suit your needs.”

“At this
moment? I must take care of the two children.”

“Now. At
once. Tonight I visit my little property. I will not return for a period. It is
evident that my help is undervalued here.”

Deine Zarre
acquiesced with poor grace. He spoke to the boy and girl, then departed with
Woudiver.

Two hours
passed. The sun, breaking through the clouds, sent a single ray down upon Hei,
so that the scarlet and purple towers glittered against the black sky. Down the
road came Woudiver’s black car. It rolled to a halt in front of the shed;
Artilo alighted. He sauntered into the shed. Reith watched him, wondering as to
his air of purposefulness. Artilo approached the boy and girl, stood looking
down at them, and they in turn looked up, eyes wide in their pale faces. Artilo
spoke a few terse words; Reith could see the corded muscles at the back of his
jaw jerk as he spoke. The children looked dubiously across the room at Reith,
then reluctantly started to move toward the door. Traz spoke to Reith in a low
urgent voice: “Something is wrong. What does he want with them?”

Reith moved
forward. He asked, “Where are you taking these two?”

“No affair of
yours.”

Reith turned
to the children. “Don’t go with this man. Wait until your uncle returns.”

The girl
said, “He says he is taking us to our uncle.”

“He can’t be
believed. Something is wrong.”

Artilo turned
to face Reith, an act as sinister as the coiling of a snake. He spoke in a soft
voice. “I have my orders. Stand away.”

“Who gave you
the orders? Woudiver?”

“It is no
concern of yours.” He motioned to the two children. “Come.” His hand went under
his old gray jacket and he watched Reith sidelong.

The girl
said, “We are not going with you.”

“You must. I’ll
carry you.”

“Touch them
and I’ll kill you,” said Reith in a flat voice.

Artilo gave
him a cool stare. Reith braced himself, muscles creaking with tension. Artilo
brought forth his hand; Reith saw the dark shape of a weapon. He lunged,
chopped down at the cold hard arm. Artilo had been expecting this; from the
sleeve of his other hand sprang a long blade, which he thrust at Reith’s side,
so swiftly that Reith, whirling away, felt the sting of the edge. Artilo sprang
back, knife poised, though he had lost the handgun. Reith, intoxicated with
fury and the sudden release of tension, edged forward, eyes fixed on the
unblinking Artilo. Reith feinted. Artilo reacted by not so much as a quiver.
Reith struck with his left hand; Artilo cut up; Reith seized his wrist,
whirled, bent, heaved, threw him far across the room where he lay in a crumpled
heap.

Reith dragged
him to the door, threw him outside into a puddle of slime.

Artilo
painfully hoisted himself to his feet and limped over to the black car. In a
passionless matter-of-fact fashion, never looking toward the shed, he scraped
the mud from his garments, entered the car and departed.

Anacho said
in a disapproving voice, “You should have killed him. Matters will be worse
than ever.”

Reith had no
reply to make. He became conscious of the blood oozing down his side. Pulling
up his shirt he found a long thin slash. Traz and Anacho applied a dressing;
the girl somewhat timidly approached and tried to help. She seemed deft and
capable; Anacho moved aside. Traz and the girl completed the job.

“Thank you,”
said Reith.

The girl
looked up at him, her face full of a hundred different meanings. But she could
not bring herself to speak.

The afternoon
waned. The girl and boy stood in the doorway looking up the road. The
technicians departed; the shed was silent.

The black car
returned. Deine Zarre stepped stiffly forth, followed by Woudiver. Artilo,
going to the luggage compartment, brought forth four energy cells, which he
carried at a painful hobble into the shed. His manner, as far as Reith could
see, was no different from usual: dour, impersonal, silent.

Woudiver
turned a single glance toward the girl and the boy, who shrank back into the
shadows. Then he approached Reith. “The energy canisters are here. They are
approved by Zarre. They cost a great deal of money. Here is my statement for
next month’s rent and Artilo’s salary-”

“Artilo’s
salary?” demanded Reith. “You must be joking.”

“-the total,
as you see, is exactly one hundred thousand sequins. The sum is not subject to
diminution. You must pay at once or I will evict you from the premises.” And
Woudiver pursed his lips in a cold smile.

Reith’s eyes
misted with hate. “I can’t afford this amount of money.”

“Then you
must go. Further, since you are no longer my client, I will be obligated to
make a report of your activities to the Dirdir.”

Reith nodded.
“One hundred thousand sequins. And after that, how much more?”

“Whatever
sums you require me to lay out.”

“No further
blackmail?”

Woudiver drew
himself up. “The word is capricious and vulgar. I warn you, Adam Reith, that I
expect the same courtesy that I accord.”

Reith managed
a sad laugh. “You’ll have your money in five or six days. I don’t have it now.”

Woudiver
cocked his great head skeptically sidewise. “Where do you propose to secure
this money?”

“I have money
waiting for me in Coad.”

Woudiver
snorted, wheeled and marched to his car. Artilo hobbled after him. They
departed.

Traz and
Anacho came to watch after the car.

In a
wondering voice Traz asked, “Where will you get a hundred thousand sequins?”

“We left as
much buried in the Carabas,” said Reith. “The only problem is bringing it
back-and perhaps it won’t be so much of a problem after all.”

Anacho’s lank
white jaw dropped. “I’ve always suspected you of insane optimism ...”

Reith held up
his hand. “Listen. I will fly north by the same route the Dirdir themselves
use. They will take no notice, even should a search-screen be operating, which
is doubtful. I will land after dark, to the east of the forest. In the morning
I will dig up the sequins and take them back to the sky-car and at dusk I will
fly back to Sivishe like a party of Dirdir returning from the hunt.”

Anacho gave a
derogatory grunt. “You make it sound so simple.”

“As probably
it will be, if all goes well.”

Reith looked
wistfully back toward the shed and the half-complete spaceship. “I might as
well start now.”

“I’ll go with
you,” said Traz. “You’ll need help.”

Anacho made a
dreary sound. “I had better go as well.”

Reith shook
his head. “One can do the job as well as three. You two remain here and keep
our affairs moving.”

“And if you
don’t return?”

“There are
sixty or seventy thousand sequins still in the pouch. Take the money and leave
Sivishe ... But I’ll be back. I can’t doubt this. It’s not possible that we
should toil and suffer so greatly only to fail.”

“Hardly a
rational assessment,” Anacho said dryly: “I expect never to see you again.”

“Nonsense,”
said Reith. “Well, I’ll get started. The sooner I leave, the sooner I return.”

THE SKY-CAR
SAILED quietly through the night of old Tschai, over landscape ghostly in the
light of the blue moon. Reith felt like a man drifting through a strange dream.
He mused over the events of his life, his childhood, his years of training, his
missions among the stars and finally his assignment to the
Explorator IV
.
Then Tschai: destruction and disaster, his time with the Emblem nomads, the
journey across Aman Steppe and the Dead Steppe to Pera; the sack of Dadiche;
the subsequent journey to Cath and his adventures at Ao Hidis. Then the journey
to Carabas, the slaughter of the Dirdir, the construction of the spaceship in
Sivishe. And Woudiver! On Tschai both virtue and vice were exaggerated; Reith
had known many evil men, among whom Woudiver ranked high.

The night
advanced; the forests of central Kislovan gave way to barren uplands and silent
wasteland. In all the circle of vision, no light, no fire, no sign of human
activity was visible. Reith consulted the course monitor, adjusted the
automatic pilot. The Carabas lay only an hour ahead. The blue moon hung low;
when it set the landscape would be dark until dawn.

The hour
passed. Braz sank behind the horizon; in the east appeared a sepia glimmer announcing
the nearness of dawn. Reith, dividing his attention between the course monitor
and the ground below, finally thought to glimpse the shape of Khusz. At once,
he dropped the car low to the ground and veered to the east, swinging behind
the Boundary Forest. As Carina 4269 thrust a first cool brown sliver over the
edge of the horizon Reith landed, close under the first great torquils of the
forest.

For a period
he sat watching and listening. Carina 4269 rose into the sky and the low light
shone directly upon the sky-car. Reith gathered broken fronds and branches,
which he laid against the car, camouflaging it to some extent.