Rael (Wine of the Gods Book 27)

by Pam Uphoff

  "Magic garbage disposal. I should have never . . ." She rubbed her temples. "Right. One of the neatest myths about the Prophets and you use it for a garbage can . . . All right, get back to my floor."

  "I'll finish it today. There's no rush for the kitchen since they can't deliver the appliances till next week. Not that you have a clue what to do with them . . . "

  She slapped his head. Obviously not very hard. "Careful, or I won't feed you any lunch."

  She walked back to Izzo. "Well, I was afraid the bag was proof of the One taking action. But it could be Comet Fall. He just took it for granted that we knew what that thing was that woman used on Agni."

  "What did he have to say about the vids this morning?"

  "He . . . was reticent." She watched more bark floating out the window. "I think I'd better order some food. That's got to be taking personal energy, no matter how good he is at utilizing heat." Rael frowned at Xen for a long moment, then looked back to Izzo. "Your cop buddy might just need to talk to Director Ujmw about how the One Hell to politely ask their magical community about this."

  Chapter Five

  19 Shawwal 1401 yp

  "Agni's finances look clean. He and his wife are splitting. Agni's Princess sneered at the idea of Madam Zyug managing anything violent. And she's probably fifteen cems shorter than the woman in the picture." Ohse shrugged. "No one's come forward with lurid tales of Agni's brutality. Oh, they all talk about his magnificent temper and getting verbal abuse with their first cup of coffee most mornings. And they're damned proud of it. Six ex-wives who all hate his guts, and live far away with their children. The two oldest children live on colony worlds and told the local police they were delighted to hear their father might be dying painfully right then. Or words to that effect."

  Izzo grimaced. "So. Politics. I hate politics."

  "Then what are you doing in Paris?"

  "Escaping from Div and Precog."

  "Point. Let's go talk to the main suspects again."

  Izzo eyed the other man. "I've heard that it's difficult to get permission to Truth Match a Presidential Guard."

  "I just looked into it. Not only do they have to agree, so does Urfa, and there must be at least four priests present to ensure that there's no attempt to subvert a guard through mental modeling. And that's after all the paperwork and presentation of evidence."

  "Umm. So you can't just ask her to be Truthed."

  "Not allowed. And then there are the rumors that Rael isn't just a Princess, she's a Dancer. I couldn't find any case histories that included a Truth Match of a Dancer."

  "That's . . . interesting."

  Five princesses and four men from the Presidential Directorate were sitting cross-legged on the floor. And three priests. And Xen Wolfson, of course. Sand and gravel wafted past.

  Rael strolled past them. "He's doing the floors and the walls. I gave up, but these guys are made of sterner stuff. Not that they've figured out how he does it, but they're still trying."

  The policeman nodded. "Has it occurred to you that he might be using you as a cover for whatever the hell he's done to Agni?"

  "I'm afraid, despite my cold analytical training, that I just can't see it. He's so powerful, he doesn't need cover, and why use someone who looks like me for cover? That just loops the suspicion back to him through me. On the other hand, I have wondered if he thinks I'm using him to shed blame from one of the other suspect groups."

  He scowled at her. "How amusing. Tell me though, who profits by this?"

  She eyed him seriously. "I tend to also think in terms of who is being damaged. Think about it. The obvious attempt to link me to the . . . kidnapping . . . strews potential guilt on the President, the One, Xen personally, and both Comet Fall and Disco by association. A beautiful five way loss of . . . what? Public trust? Credibility? Who profits from that? Another candidate from the War Party? The Isolationists? An underground anarchist group? The Earth? Comet Fall? Yet another unknown dimension traveling world? Senior Investigator . . . this whole thing has me on edge." She glanced at the people sitting on the floor. "I'm waffling . . . I may go to Makkah and see if there's any . . . smell of this in any of the alternate philosophers."

  Ohse looked a bit taken aback.

  "The timing, especially, looks like an attempt to discredit Xen, and through him, Embassy and Disco. And possibly reignite hostilities with Comet Fall." She rubbed her face. "It would help if we just had a body, and could see how he was killed."

  "You think he's dead?"

  She spread her hands. "I don't know."

  He looked around, frustration wrinkling his brow. "He was divorcing his wife. It would be so much simpler if her alibi weren't even solider than yours."

  "Oh?"

  "Dozens of eyewitnesses as well as ID traces and so forth." He shook his head and walked away.

  ***

  For better or worse, she had run out of vacation time.

  "Worse, because I can't keep an eye on what you're doing to my house. Better, because I can dig for specific dirt on Agni." Rael looked around the hotel room.

  He snickered. "I ought to go see if Disco has fallen apart in my absence. But since I set my own hours, I can come back and . . . mmm . . . I had an idea about the ceiling in the living room . . . "

  She shook her fist at him. Checked the mirror, then grabbed her bag. "Back to work. Which I suspect will involve writing a report on recently revealed abilities of Fallen magicians."

  He walked out with her. "Don't forget to put in that I said I was just a mediocre builder. Actually Orde and Urfa saw them in action. The next time we do anything large on Embassy, I'll give you a heads up and you can send all these poor scientists out to record how the top builders do things."

  "I've seen recordings of your people building your embassy on Embassy World. In fact I was part of the team analyzing it. We figured you had at least three compasses of magicians doing the work."

  He just grinned.

  She dropped him off at the house and headed even further away from the center of Paris.

  She had offices both in Government House and Versalle. Probably too close to the expanding city to really be called "The President's Country Place" anymore, Versalle was the headquarters of the Black Horse Guards and the Presidential Directorate. Which was quite distinct, thank the One, from the president's bureaucracy. The president split his time between the two—his horse-mad daughter's string of jumpers was out at Versalle—and Rael worked there unless specifically needed at Government House.

  She worked steadily, tapping out as exact a record of her interactions with Xen as would not get her either arrested for murder or terminally embarrassed. Establishing my alibi. Which is all well and good but it gets me no further in figuring out who wanted to kill Agni. She hesitated, then keyed in a search for all six of Agni's ex- or soon to be ex-wives. She bit her lip. But none of them have any connection to the One that would explain my orders. She eyed her search string, and added "relatives called to serve the One." She entered the search, and then turned back to her report. He said that manipulation of the trans-dimensional bubbles was a specialized ability, not one common among the Comet Fall magic users. And that he did not require handles. That they made them with handles for other people. What that implies as to how common the bubbles are . . . I will enquire.

  "I think half the reason for these damned reports is to make us think up the questions we didn't think to ask at the time."

  A giggle from the doorway. "Talking to yourself?"

  Paer Withione Tarsus Ottoman was a tall young woman. Eighteen years old. Fit, active and smart. She came as close as was humanly possible to living on horseback, and had won a gold medal in last year's Olympics.

  "And why haven't you brought Endi, I mean Xen, to dinner? Or better yet, to the stables."

  "Because he and I are apparently the top suspects in the kidnapping or murder of Agni." Rael looked past the girl. "Actually, I'm a bit surprised you don't have a guard on your heels."
<
br />   "Neir. Locked her in the tack room."

  Rael laughed before she could stop herself. Slapped a hand over her mouth. Took a deep breath. "Paer. You know how important security is . . . " She broke off into snickers. "One! Do you suppose she's gotten herself out yet? Or called for help?"

  Paer grinned. "Trust me. I wedged the door good. No fancy locks that just any old princess could open without breaking a sweat."

  Rael pinched her nose. "And she's such a stuck up prick." She pulled out her comm and tapped. "Fool? Will you send someone to let Neir out of the tack room and someone else to guard Paer? She's in my office." Rael clicked off. "I'll bet whoever she sends is out of breath when she arrives to protect you from my evil influence."

  "With any luck she'll forget the part about letting Neir out."

  He arrived shortly, breathing a little hard.

  Rael raised her eyebrows. "Good morning Sergeant. Just . . . how worried are they about me?"

  Sergeant Imho reddened slightly. "Qayg told us to . . . well . . . "

  Rael leaned back and frowned. "That bad, eh? Perhaps I ought to feel like I'm coming down with something and stay home for a few days? Or. Ah. I know just the thing! I need to go talk to someone in Interior. And if they don't find that other redhead quickly . . . Oh One Hell."

  "They can't fire you!" Paer yelped.

  "That's not the problem. The problem is them spending so much time watching me that they miss the signs of something else, someone else, starting something. I will not be the distraction that lets an assassin get too close."

  The poor girl paled at that. Her eyes dropped to Rael's right hand.

  Rael wiggled the fingers. "All fixed. But even Comet Fall Medgicians can't heal dead. If transferring to some other directorate will do the trick . . . Oh One, what a pity Agni isn't at External anymore. Now that would be funny."

  They were all three snickering when Fool, Princess Feol if one wanted to get formal, joined them. The head of the female agents eyed them dyspeptically.

  Rael wiped her eyes. "I need to go badger Interior about something. Shall I then come down with a bad cold and take a few more days off?"

  "Yes. That's an excellent idea."

  "Right." Rael saved the half written report. Noted that the search result were in, and closed her comp up. "Paer, as soon as everyone stops having vapors over this, I'll haul Xen in for dinner, and maybe even a ride. Speaking of Bags of the Prophets . . . I wonder if he ever takes his horse places in one."

  Paer lit up. "Yes! I've seen pictures of Pyrite. I want to see him in person."

  Fool growled.

  Rael just giggled. "Horse mad. Insane. Go do your homework, if you still want to transfer to the Directorate School next fall."

  She left her car, and ordered up an official car, with driver, for the drive to the Headquarters building of the Interior Directorate, downtown. Mainly to catch up on her reading. Seven women, all presumably with a grudge against Agni. She found herself looking at their heights, which of them could have imitated . . . she refrained from knocking her head on the car window. Getting too deep into the role. I know damn good and well who kidnapped Agni. What I want to know is who ordered that Priest to order me to kill him. And I'm not seeing any brothers or sons that were called by the One. No sisters who went to Princess School.

  At the directorate, Izzo and Ohse were both waiting for her as she walked in the door.

  "Ooo! Must be magic." Rael giggled at their expressions. "Why yes, I was coming to ask a few questions myself. What a coincidence, finding you two standing in the lobby."

  Ohse looked dyspeptic. Must be something going around.

  "He just lost a bet." Izzo said. "He figured you were here to come clean."

  Rael sniffed. "I showered this morning, which you most likely know . What I was wondering was what alibis all of Agni's wives have and where they are right now."

  "Four of them live here in Paris, the woman he's currently divorcing, Zyug Withione Flinders Tasman was, at the time of the . . . kidnapping . . . on a plane over the Indian Ocean. At the moment, she's in a hotel, here in Paris."

  "Really? Which . . . "

  Crossed arms and stubborn expressions.

  She sighed. "I could waste an afternoon calling hotels."

  Ohse shrugged. "Rialto Suites on Nicholas Drive."

  Ah ha! "Pricey, but then I suppose she's a rich widow."

  "We really don't like suspects contacting the families of the victims." Ohse looked like he was thinking.

  Trying to figure out how to get me to give myself away.

  Rael nodded, trying to look reasonable. "And as you say, airplane. Did any of the exes have cause to expect money in large quantities on Agni's death? That's taking for granted that they all probably have fantasized about killing him."

  "I really doubt he's that bad in private. However abrasive his management style."

  "Ha! And speaking of Agni . . . how are his finances looking? Any reasons there to suspect a little pocket lining, kickbacks . . . No?" She shrugged. "Well, nice to see you gentlemen again."

  Rialto Suites. Across a side street from the chapel where I met a priest and received the order. Coincidence? Hmm. I wonder if One Irve is still in town?

  She had the driver take her back to Versalle.

  Finalized her report on Xen and sent it to Urfa while still enroute.

  Urfa was there at Versalle when she arrived.

  "Coming down with a cold, eh? Not really necessary. Your close observations of Captain Wolfson are definitely work related."

  Rael giggled. "Umm . . . "

  "Yes, I do realize that some segments of time are missing, and others seem to lack situational descriptions. I thank you for that." He grinned a bit. "Rael, I trust you."

  She nodded. "I know that. I don't think I can be forced to do something I don't want to do. I can, however, explore a situation to see if it is a threat. I . . . do not understand the motive behind Agni's disappearance."

  "If you need help, let me know."

  "I will. You know, I'm willing to bet he's not dead." Which is much more than I ought to say.

  "My money's riding on it."

  Chapter Six

  21 Shawwal 1401 yp

  She stalled her car out in front of her house. The sand and gravel were almost gone. The plywood over the broken window was gone. The window opening looked twice the size it had been and stuck out about thirty cems, lead paned casement windows open to the chilly late fall wind. The whole façade of the house was . . . She parked and walked up to feel it. Not plastered or painted. It looked and felt like solid rock, the surface patterned like rough stucco. The front door was now a thick rectangle of offset slabs of oak and glass in a geometric pattern. Gleaming brass knob and hinges. The floor of the entry looked like marble tiles, white with gray veining. The kitchen was bright and cheerful. The countertops less bright than the day before, matching the bold rusty red veining in the sandstone "tiles" of the floor. A bit of clashing blue from a picnic box half full of packaged sandwiches sitting on a bed of ice.

  Polished oak floors took over from there for the dining room and living room. Open and spacious. The battered bricks of the fireplace had transformed into a solid reddish column, the opening arched . . . "What did you do to the ceiling?"

  Since the room was empty of everything but a table full of electronics, no one answered.

  She stared up, where the flat ceiling had disappeared, taking an awkward low attic with it. Wooden beams supported the new, high, slanted ceiling.

  She shook her head. "I think maybe it's just as well I wasn't here." In four days he's totally transformed this house. I don't know whether to believe him or not when he says he's mediocre at this kind of thing. How the hell did we underestimate those people so thoroughly? Well, apart from most of the agents sent there being overbearingly blind and analysts back here playing office politics and dropping projects not pushed by the new Director and his cronies. I mean, just a single target world out of ha
lf a dozen studies in progress . . . And, of course, once we realized it was going to be smacked by a comet we only cared about using it as a temporary waypoint to attack Earth. One bloody hell. They must hate us. She turned and looked around.

  The hallway floor was tiled in golden sand streaked with paler quartz. The little bedroom opposite the blue bathroom was empty. She walked across a floor that looked like sand raked into patterns and touched the new window, the shelf extending out, just the right height to sit and feel the breeze . . . easily five degrees warmer than the chilly air outside.

  She heard noise from down the hallway . . .

  Thirteen people sat on the floor of the back bedroom; four observers danced out of the way as the wall between the back bedroom and the front bedroom pulled open like curtains and lifted into an arch.

  Well, that'll teach me to say something about not knowing which small bedroom to take as mine.

  The arch settled into place. Chunks of plaster skittered about like leaves in the wind and settled, stretched and filled in all the holes. Glowed briefly. Then sat there, as if it had been built that shape.

  She mentally armored her thoughts against the pile of powerful people surrounding Xen, then reached out to touch his mind.

  :: I'm going to go talk to the priest who brought the orders to me. If he is still in town. ::

  Xen stretched and stood up. "Time for a refueling break."

  The others stirred, opened their eyes and stood to look up at the arch.

  Xen walked into the kitchen, grabbed a sandwich, munched, and eyed her.

  Rael stared around her kitchen. :: My sister's boyfriend would call this another opportunity to demonstrate my complete and utter lack of common sense. ::

  :: I think I agree with him. Shall we go? :: "Kitchen not right yet? Why don't we browse the hardware store again, so you can get yet another weird idea."

  "My ideas are not weird. They are merely unconventional." She bounced out the door, trying hard to maintain her usual expression. :: A Priest who is a part of the One is not to be taken lightly. Especially since I am planning on asking some rather pointed questions about the failure of evidence of malfeasance, bribery, kickbacks, and so forth to appear. ::