by Timothy Zahn
“Sir?” Lisa spoke up hesitantly. “I’m sorry, but … I think I may have told him something you don’t know. I—well, I saw Dr. Jarvis and Colin driving from Barona toward Rand one night last June, and I … I told Om—I mean Martel—that.”
“What day in June was that?” Tirrell asked.
“The fifteenth.”
Tirrell nodded grimly. “That’s it, all right. Listen, Lisa, we can’t let Martel get to Jarvis before we do—I can’t explain, but it’s vitally important. Can you take us to the spot where you saw him?”
“I think so. If it’ll be faster, I could show you the spot on a map, if we can find one down in the tabernacle.”
Tirrell had forgotten she could probably read maps. “As a matter of fact …” he said, digging into his pocket and glancing around. “Let’s get into the light.”
Moving back into the sunlit part of the cave, the detective spread his by-now crumpled map onto the gravelly floor. Squatting down beside him, Lisa touched a spot some sixty-five to seventy kilometers west of Barona. “It was about here, I think,” she said. “I also told him about these two spots—I saw them marked in your book.” She pointed to two of the rockmud areas straddling the road further on toward Rand.
Tirrell felt his stomach tighten. If Lisa’s placement of the meeting was correct, there were less than a dozen areas left where Jarvis could be … and Martel had two of them. “Damn. We’ve got to get after him right away.”
“Wait a second,” Lisa said, teeking the map back down as he started to refold it. “I didn’t remember when I was talking to Martel—I saw Dr. Jarvis’s car turn off the road to the right just after I left him.”
“You did?” Frowning, Tirrell peered at the map again. The nearest road marked was at least a kilometer from the place Lisa had indicated. Either her estimate was off or Jarvis had taken something more informal then a real road. Either way—“I guess you’re going to have to show us the actual place, after all.” He studied her face, noting the fatigue there. “You feel up to it?”
“Sure,” she said, straightening her back a bit.
“Good.” Tirrell folded up the map and stood up. “There was a well-stocked pantry in the big tent; we’ll grab some food and head straight out, if you don’t mind eating while we fly.”
Both preteens nodded. “We still going to stop by Plat City and report this place to them?” Tonio asked.
“I don’t think so,” Tirrell said slowly. “I’m beginning to think it’s almost certain that Martel’s suborned one or more righthands there like he did Weylin, and I’d rather not tip them off that we’ve found his base.”
“Why is it certain? Because Plat City’s closer than Barona?”
“No. Because of this.” Tirrell waved his hand to encompass the huge cave.
Lisa glanced up. “This? But this is just where he’s going to build his Temple of Truth.”
“Temple of Truth, eh? I should have figured Martel to come up with something cute. I suppose he has his followers dump the rocks a good distance away; say, by a river somewhere?”
Lisa blinked. “There is a river in the valley where the rocks are taken. How did you know?”
“Because the rocks are what he’s really after here—the rocks and the free labor to dig them out.” Tirrell gestured. “My guess is that he’s taken a couple million bills worth of gold out of here already, and the vein’s probably got at least that much still in it.”
“Gold?” Tonio looked stunned. “You said it was quartz.”
“Most of it is,” Tirrell nodded. “But if you look at the walls closely you can see bits of gold glittering there. How Martel stumbled on a vein this rich I don’t know, but the point is that unless he takes the gold down the far side of the Tessellate Mountains, he has to run it through the assay office in either Plat City or Rand, and he’s too cautious not to have installed at least one listening ear in each city’s police department. That’s how he got away from us in Ridge Harbor, and he’s not likely to change a winning system.” He glanced at his watch. “We’d better get moving—Martel’s already a good hour and a half ahead of us, and even if he starts with the wrong areas he’s got fifteen or more airborne searchers to our one.”
“Our two,” Lisa corrected, her voice quiet but determined.
“Forget it,” Tirrell told her. “As soon as you’ve shown us where Jarvis turned off the main road, you’re going to go to Barona and turn yourself in to the police as a material witness.”
“But I want to help you,” she said. “I mean, this whole mess is my fault. Again.” Her eyes were glistening with moisture, and Tirrell sensed she was fighting back tears. “I got a friend in trouble who was just doing something I asked him to—and now I’ve made things bad for you in trying to help him.” She turned half away, biting her lip.
Tirrell gazed at her, wondering briefly how things might have been different if the various officials had just told her the plain truth instead of dropping ominous hints about Daryl’s fate. “Well … first things first. You get us to Jarvis’s turnoff and then we’ll see.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “Thank you.”
“But just for the record,” he continued, “your friend Daryl’s not really in all that much trouble. He’s actually only been transferred to a school in Cavendish, where he won’t be able to continue your lessons.”
Lisa’s mouth fell open as a flurry of emotions struggled for supremacy across her face. “You’re sure?”
“That’s what Gavra Norward told me, and I expect she should know. You’re not supposed to be told, but I think we’ve got enough to worry about at the moment, and I’d just as soon get Daryl out of our way.”
“I—thank you.” She took a deep breath. “I guess it was kind of silly, but I was really worried about him.”
“I know. Just don’t borrow any more books from him, and don’t turn me in when this is all over.” Tirrell turned to Tonio and held out his hand. “Well, don’t just stand there—let’s go.”
Chapter 23
FLYING AT A BRISK but less than eye-gouging speed, it took them nearly two hours to reach the part of the road Lisa had pointed out; after that they drifted above the trees at much slower speed for several minutes as Lisa searched in silence for the exact spot. Tirrell, having spent much of their flying time imagining what Martel would do with whatever discovery Jarvis had come up with, was almost literally aching with the desire for immediate action. But he managed to keep his mouth shut and let Lisa proceed at her own pace—and within fifteen minutes his patience was rewarded as she suddenly swooped downward.
“This is it,” she called decisively, paralleling the road at a height of about three meters. “Here’s where I flew next to him; he stopped about here and we talked; and then he went around this curve. Then—” she pulled up again, losing Tirrell and Tonio for a half second before the righthand matched her maneuver—“I started to head home, looked …” She hovered for a moment, then pointed. “He turned off and I saw his lights go through there.”
“Great.” Tirrell fixed the view in his memory. “Let’s head down and take a look.”
There was no real road anywhere near the place Lisa had indicated, but it took only minutes to confirm that the grassy lane cutting between the trees led all the way back to the main road, and that it was both wide enough and firm enough to handle moderately heavy vehicles. “I think,” Tirrell said with satisfaction, “that we’ve got him. Let’s go. And watch out for a path leading off a little to the east—we’ve still got to hit a rockmud patch before we reach his cabin, and the most likely spots on the map are still east of us.”
Flying low, they set off between the trees. Lisa fell into formation beside them, and for a long moment Tirrell debated silently the wisdom of letting her come along. Still, it shouldn’t really be dangerous if they got there before Martel showed up; and the girl was clearly determined to help; and, actually, an extra preteen really would be handy to have along.
His rational
ization complete, Tirrell put the question out of his mind and settled down to the task at hand.
Colin was playing in the living room and Jarvis had just finished clearing the dishes from their mid-morning brunch when the knock came on the door. “Dr. Jarvis?” a muffled voice called. “This is the police. Open up, please.”
For a long instant Jarvis stood frozen in place. Somehow, he’d expected them to come in a midnight or dawn raid, when the detectors he’d set up around the cabin might have given him some warning. But he always turned them off when Colin was likely to go out … and now he had only seconds before they charged in and carted him, Colin, and all of his papers away. Too little time to do anything with the papers—far too little to set off the smoke bombs hidden around the cabin’s periphery. But if he could buy a bit more time …
Three silent steps took him into the living room where Colin, his cat’s-cradle frame sitting ignored in front of him, was looking questioningly toward the door. “Shh!” the scientist whispered, putting a finger across his lips. “Get up onto the couch. Quickly.”
Clearly picking up Jarvis’s tension, the boy obeyed at once, and was huddling wide-eyed at one end when Jarvis reached him. “Miribel,” the scientist said; and as Colin’s eyes rolled up and closed, Jarvis picked up the limp body and shifted it into a prone position. He’d never left the boy in hypnotic sleep for more than half an hour at a time, but past experience with such things suggested it would be several hours before Colin got hungry enough or uncomfortable enough to come out of it on his own. With luck, that might give Jarvis enough time to do what he had to.
He was out of the living room and nearly to the door when it suddenly emitted the crack of breaking wood and swung inward with a crash.
The blurry figure that shot in through the opening actually flew past him before it could react to his presence, and he glanced back just as the boy braked to a midair halt. The adult charging in on foot, of course, had no such problem. “Dr. Jarvis?” he asked with the tone of one who already knows the answer.
“Yes. I was coming, you know,” he added, eyeing the damaged door.
The other’s expression remained cold. “Dr. Jarvis, I’m Detective First Stanford Tirrell, Ridge Harbor Police. We’d like to search your cabin.”
“Of course,” Jarvis said calmly. “I can save you the trouble, though: Colin’s asleep on the living room couch.”
A flicker of surprise touched the detective’s face—surprise, probably, at such a straightforward admission. “Show us,” he ordered.
“Certainly.” Turning, Jarvis retraced his steps and, with the righthand hovering watchfully at his shoulder, led the way back to the living room.
“Tonio, watch him,” Tirrell said. Stepping to the couch, he gazed at the sleeping boy’s face for a moment. “Colin?” he said tentatively. “Wake up, Colin.”
“I’m afraid that won’t do any good, Detective,” Jarvis told him. “He’s going to be asleep for the next few hours—a side effect of some medicine I’ve been giving him. And he mustn’t be moved until he awakens, either.”
Tirrell favored him with a long, speculative look. “Colin?” he said, louder this time. “Colin!”
There was, predictably, no response. Gingerly, the detective reached down and touched a forefinger to the base of Colin’s neck. After a moment he straightened. “And why can’t he be moved?” he demanded.
“The drug couples strongly with the inner-ear balance system and several delicate brain structures,” Jarvis said, frowning slightly. By now the rest of the police should surely have moved in … if there were any more police. Could Tirrell possibly have come alone? That was almost too much to hope for. “Shifting his position, even with teekay, could be dangerous.”
“How dangerous?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t think it worth experimenting with,” he said dryly.
Tirrell grimaced. “Yeah. All right, we can afford to wait. Maybe.” He stepped to the window and gestured. Jarvis waited tensely; but the only person who came through the front door was a slender preteen girl.
“Is he all right?” she asked, ignoring Jarvis completely as she flew into the room.
“I think so,” Tirrell told her. “But apparently we’re not going to be able to move him for a few hours. I want you to stay with me and help keep an eye on Jarvis here while Tonio watches out for Martel and his gang. Tonio, find some place where you’ll be out of sight but have a good view of the area. If you see anyone at all, get down here fast and let me know. Got it?”
“Right,” the boy said and disappeared.
Jarvis eyed the girl, who was in turn watching him with a mixture of distaste and curiosity. “Is Ridge Harbor using girls as righthands now?” he asked.
Tirrell shook his head. “Lisa just came along to act as a guide.”
The girl’s face suddenly clicked. “You’re the one who stopped me on my way here last June, aren’t you?” Jarvis said, nodding. “What did you do, Detective, send my picture around to all the hives in the area?”
“As it happens, Lisa recognized your picture at the police station.” Tirrell glanced around the room. “Where’s your radiophone?”
“I’m afraid it’s out of order,” Jarvis said, almost too quickly.
Tirrell gave him a long look. “How very convenient. Show it to me; maybe I can fix it.”
Jarvis glanced once at Colin’s limp form, lying there beneath the seascape painting Miribel had given him so long ago. “All right,” he said. “But I don’t think it’ll do any good.”
He led the way into the study and pointed out the phone. “Thank you,” Tirrell said. “Please sit over there against the wall. Lisa, watch him closely.”
Jarvis did as he was told. “Tell me,” he said as Tirrell got to work on the phone casing with a pocket screwdriver, “just how widespread is knowledge of my … involvement with Colin’s kidnapping?”
Tirrell frowned up at him briefly. “Not very. Your poster identified you only as a material witness. Why?”
Jarvis shrugged. “The smaller the number of people who know what I’m doing out here, the better my chances of convincing everyone that it should be kept secret, at least for now.”
“So you’d like to keep all this a secret, would you,” Tirrell said. “We’d take Colin back to Ridge Harbor and you’d settle back in at the university, career and reputation intact, um?”
“My career and reputation are completely unimportant. Colin—and what may be happening inside him—is just the opposite. We might be on the brink of the most drastic change in Tigrin society since the teekay ability first appeared.”
Tirrell snorted. “Impressive words—especially coming from a man who kidnapped his own son to do his experiments on. You’ll forgive me if I remain unconvinced.”
“His son?” Lisa looked startled. “Colin?”
“Yes,” Jarvis nodded. “Detective Tirrell was just guessing, of course, but there’s no reason now to deny it.” He looked back at Tirrell. “Would you care to know just why I chose Colin?”
“Because you knew his birthday, I’d imagine.”
“A minor point only. Mainly, it was because I knew he’d have a good chance of handling what I might be doing to him. I knew my own temperament and physical stamina and those of his mother Miribel, so his genetic background is good; and, more importantly, I knew the reputation of the Brimmers, who’d been given custody of him. I knew they would give him solid moral and ethical training. I don’t know if that’ll be enough. I hope so.”
Tirrell looked up from the workings of the phone, where he’d been testing for loose wires. “What have you done to him?” he asked quietly.
Jarvis smiled tightly. “I’ve possibly made him the most important man on Tigris.”
“How?”
This was it. The detective was listening; and if Jarvis could convince him of the need for secrecy there might still be a way to work out a deal. If not …“I’d be happy to. But perhaps Lisa should wait somewhere out
of earshot for the rest of this discussion—outside the window there, for instance, where she could still watch me.”
Tirrell held the scientist’s eyes a moment longer before turning to look first at the window and then at Lisa. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” he said. “She can stay and listen.”
Jarvis hadn’t expected that. “Detective, as I said before, the fewer that know anything about this, the better. Lisa is only a kid—”
“She’s almost a teen,” Tirrell interrupted. “And she’s demonstrated an ability to keep secrets reasonably well. Besides, I don’t especially trust your motives in wanting her outside.”
Jarvis looked at Lisa, thoughts tangled with indecision. Even a single hint of this dropped into a hive would start rumors traveling like a firestorm, with effects potentially as devastating. But if he didn’t talk now, his next chance would be at an official police interrogation … and more than rumors would spread from that. Lisa, he decided at last, was probably the lesser of the two risks. “All right,” he sighed. “There is, I think, a reasonably good possibility that Colin will pass the first stages of puberty without undergoing Transition—and if he gets that far he’ll have a fifty-fifty chance of keeping his teekay well into adulthood.”
Lisa gasped. “You can stop Transition from coming?”
He shook his head. “Possibly … but not the way you’re hoping. If the method works at all, the treatments will have to be started very young. There’s nothing I can do for you; the metabolic changes that would be needed would be far too drastic to be safe. I’m sorry.”
“What sort of changes are involved?” Tirrell asked. Jarvis looked at him, glad for an excuse to turn away from Lisa’s disappointment. “For the time being that has to remain my secret,” he said.
“So you can make all the money from the process?”
“I’m not going to make a bill on this,” Jarvis frowned, annoyed at the other’s attitude. “If you’d bother to think about it for ten seconds, you’d realize what a potential bombshell a discovery like this is. Handled wrong, it could literally drive Tigris into another Lost Generation situation.”