The Door Through Space
Page 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
An hour before dawn there was a noise in my room. I roused, my hand onmy skean. Someone or something was fumbling under the mattress where Ihad thrust Evarin's bird. I struck out, encountered something warm andbreathing, and grappled with it in the darkness. A foul-smellingsomething gripped over my mouth. I tore it away and struck hard with theskean. There was a high shrilling. The gripping filth loosened and fellaway and something died on the floor.
I struck a light, retching in revulsion. It hadn't been human. Therewouldn't have been that much blood from a human. Not that color, either.
The _chak_ who ran the place came and gibbered at me. _Chaks_ have ahorror of blood and this one gave me to understand that my lease was upthen and there, no arguments, no refunds. He wouldn't even let me gointo his stone outbuilding to wash the foul stuff from my shirtcloak. Igave up and fished under the mattress for Evarin's Toy.
The _chak_ got a glimpse of the embroideries on the silk in which it waswrapped, and stood back, his loose furry lips hanging open, while Igathered my few belongings together and strode out of the room. He wouldnot touch the coins I offered; I laid them on a chest and he let themlie there, and as I went into the reddening morning they came flyingafter me into the street.
I pulled the silk from the Toy and tried to make some sense from mypredicament. The little thing lay innocent and silent in my palm. Itwouldn't tell me whether it had been keyed to me, the real Cargill, sometime in the past, or to Rakhal, using my name and reputation in theTerran Colony here at Charin.
If I pressed the stud it might play out this comedy of errors by huntingdown Rakhal, and all my troubles would be over. For a while, at least,until Evarin found out what had happened. I didn't deceive myself that Icould carry the impersonation through another meeting.
On the other hand, if I pressed the stud, the bird might turn on me. Andthen all my troubles would be over for good.
If I delayed past Evarin's deadline, and did nothing, the other bird inhis keeping would hunt down Juli and give her a swift and not toopainless death.
I spent most of the day in a _chak_ dive, juggling plans. Toys, innocentand sinister. Spies, messengers. Toys which killed horribly. Toys whichcould be controlled, perhaps, by the pliant mind of a child, and everychild hates its parents now and again!
Even in the Terran colony, who was safe? In Mack's very home, one of theMagnusson youngsters had a shiny thing which might, or might not, be oneof Evarin's hellish Toys. Or was I beginning to think like asuperstitious Dry-towner?
Damn it, Evarin couldn't be infallible; he hadn't even recognized me asRace Cargill! Or--suddenly the sweat broke out, again, on myforehead--_or had he_? Had the whole thing been one of those sinister,deadly and incomprehensible nonhuman jokes?
I kept coming to the same conclusion. Juli was in danger, but she washalf a world away. Rakhal was here in Charin. There was a childinvolved--Juli's child. The first step was to get inside the Terrancolony and see how the land lay.
Charin is a city shaped like a crescent moon, encircling the small TradeCity: a miniature spaceport, a miniature skyscraper HQ, the clustereddwellings of the Terrans who worked there, and those who lived with themand supplied them with necessities, services and luxuries.
Entry from one to the other is through a guarded gateway, since this ishostile territory, and Charin lies far beyond the impress of ordinaryTerran law. But the gate stood wide-open, and the guards looked lax andbored. They had shockers, but they didn't look as if they'd used themlately.
One raised an eyebrow at his companion as I shambled up. I could prettywell guess the impression I made, dirty, unkempt and stained withnonhuman blood. I asked permission to go into the Terran Zone.
They asked my name and business, and I toyed with the notion of givingthe name of the man I was inadvertently impersonating. Then I decidedthat if Rakhal had passed himself off as Race Cargill, he'd expectexactly that. And he was also capable of the masterstroke ofimpudence--putting out a pickup order, through Spaceforce, for his ownname!
So I gave the name we'd used from Shainsa to Charin, and tacked one ofthe Secret Service passwords on the end of it. They looked at each otheragain and one said, "Rascar, eh? This is the guy, all right." He took meinto the little booth by the gate while the other used an intercomdevice. Presently they took me along into the HQ building, and into anoffice that said "Legate."
I tried not to panic, but it wasn't easy! Evidently I'd walked squareinto another trap. One guard asked me, "All right, now, what exactly isyour business in the Trade City?"
I'd hoped to locate Rakhal first. Now I knew I'd have no chance and atall costs I must straighten out this matter of identity before it wentany further.
"Put me straight through to Magnusson's office, Level 38 at Central HQ,by visi," I demanded. I was trying to remember if Mack had ever evenheard the name we used in Shainsa. I decided I couldn't risk it. "Nameof Race Cargill."
The guard grinned without moving. He said to his partner, "That's theone, all right." He put a hand on my shoulder, spinning me around.
"Haul off, man. Shake your boots."
There were two of them, and Spaceforce guards aren't picked for theirgood looks. Just the same, I gave a pretty good account of myself untilthe inner door opened and a man came storming out.
"What the devil is all this racket?"
One guard got a hammerlock on me. "This Dry-towner bum tried to talk usinto making a priority call to Magnusson, the Chief at Central. He knewa couple of the S.S. passwords. That's what got him through the gate.Remember, Cargill passed the word that somebody would turn up trying toimpersonate him."
"I remember." The strange man's eyes were wary and cold.
"You damned fools," I snarled. "Magnusson will identify me! Can't yourealize you're dealing with an impostor?"
One of the guards said to the legate in an undertone, "Maybe we ought tohold him as a suspicious character." But the legate shook his head. "Notworth the trouble. Cargill said it was a private affair. You mightsearch him, make sure he's not concealing contraband weapons," he added,and talked softly to the wide-eyed clerk in the background while theguards went through my shirtcloak and pockets.
When they started to unwrap the silk-shrouded Toy I yelled--if the thinggot set off accidentally, there'd be trouble. The legate turned andrebuked, "Can't you see it's embroidered with the Toad God? It's areligious amulet of some sort, let it alone."
They grumbled, but gave it back to me, and the legate commanded, "Don'tmess him up any more. Give him back his knife and take him to the gates.But make sure he doesn't come back."
I found myself seized and frog-marched to the gate. One guard pushed myskean back into its clasp. The other shoved me hard, and I stumbled,fell sprawling in the dust of the cobbled street, to the accompanimentof a profane statement about what I could expect if I came back. Achorus of jeers from a cluster of _chak_ children and veiled women brokeacross me.
I picked myself up, glowered so fiercely at the giggling spectators thatthe laughter drained away into silence, and clenched my fists, halfinclined to turn back and bull my way through. Then I subsided. Firstround to Rakhal. He had sprung the trap on me, very neatly.
The street was narrow and crooked, winding between doubled rows ofpebble-houses, and full of dark shadows even in the crimson noon. Iwalked aimlessly, favoring the arm the guard had crushed. I was nocloser to settling things with Rakhal, and I had slammed at least onegate behind me.
Why hadn't I had sense enough to walk up and demand to _see_ RaceCargill? Why hadn't I insisted on a fingerprint check? I could prove myidentity, and Rakhal, using my name in my absence, to those who didn'tknow me by sight, couldn't. I could at least have made him try. But hehad maneuvered it very cleverly, so I never had a chance to insist onproofs.
I turned into a wineshop and ordered a dram of greenish mountainberryliquor, sipping it slowly and fingering the few bills and coins in mypockets. I'd better forget about warning Juli. I couldn't 'vise her
fromCharin, except in the Terran zone. I had neither the money nor the timeto make the trip in person, even if I could get passage on aTerran-dominated airline after today.
Miellyn. She had flirted with me, and like Dallisa, she might provevulnerable. It might be another trap, but I'd take the chance. At leastI could get hints about Evarin. And I needed information. I wasn't usedto this kind of intrigue any more. The smell of danger was foreign to menow, and I found it unpleasant.
The small lump of the bird in my pocket tantalized me. I took it outagain. It was a temptation to press the stud and let it settle things,or at least start them going, then and there.
After a while I noticed the proprietors of the shop staring at the silkof the wrappings. They backed off, apprehensive. I held out a coin andthey shook their heads. "You are welcome to the drink," one of themsaid. "All we have is at your service. Only please go. Go quickly."
They would not touch the coins I offered. I thrust the bird in mypocket, swore and went. It was my second experience with being somehowtabu, and I didn't like it.
It was dusk when I realized I was being followed.
At first it was a glimpse out of the corner of my eye, a head seen toofrequently for coincidence. It developed into a too-persistent footstepin uneven rhythm.
Tap-_tap_-tap. Tap-_tap_-tap.
I had my skean handy, but I had a hunch this wasn't anything I couldsettle with a skean. I ducked into a side street and waited.
Nothing.
I went on, laughing at my imagined fears.
Then, after a time, the soft, persistent footfall thudded behind meagain.
I cut across a thieves market, dodging from stall to stall, cursed byold women selling hot fried goldfish, women in striped veils railing atme in their chiming talk when I brushed their rolled rugs with hastyfeet. Far behind I heard the familiar uneven hurry: tap-_tap_-tap,tap-_tap_-tap.
I fled down a street where women sat on flower-decked balconies, theiropen lanterns flowing with fountains and rivulets of gold and orangefire. I raced through quiet streets where furred children crept to doorsand watched me pass with great golden eyes that shone in the dark.
I dodged into an alley and lay there, breathing hard. Someone not twoinches away said, "Are you one of us, brother?"
I muttered something surly, in his dialect, and a hand, reassuringlyhuman, closed on my elbow. "This way."
Out of breath with long running, I let him lead me, meaning to breakaway after a few steps, apologize for mistaken identity and vanish, whena sound at the end of the street made me jerk stiff and listen.
Tap-_tap_-tap. Tap-_tap_-tap.
I let my arm relax in the hand that guided me, flung a fold of myshirtcloak over my face, and went along with my unknown guide.