“The snoopers around here in this area of the garden are disabled for now.”
“Who was the first one who created this place?”
“Dr. Barrows. It started out as a laboratory devoted to new research in genetics and bio-engineering and environmental science geared to terraforming Mars. Back then, before Lafayette decided to take over the place, it was known by the name Triskele, I think. Dr. Barrows entered into an alliance with Lafayette, which is why we have Triskelion as it is, today.”
“What happened to Dr. Barrows?” Patrick took a deep breath as if bracing himself. Then, he went on.
“From what I learned, Barrows and Lafayette had a major disagreement. Naturally, it was about the direction the research was going and the changing goals of the organization. Barrows didn't agree with the research Lafayette was doing, nor did he agree with his ideals, and spoke his mind to Lafayette, loudly and often. Perhaps, a little too often, for they had a nasty fight one night and a few days later, Barrows was gone. I think he just packed up and left in disgust.”
“I'm very sorry to hear that. A lab dedicated to the beautification of the planet and the good of the people settling here would be an invaluable boon to us all.”
“I know. But there have always been those who only value the domination of their will over others. Lafayette values strength, beauty and what he touts as genetic superiority. He's brought you here because there's something about you that he sees value in. Your blood and tissue samples are very valuable, Robert. Dr. Lafayette likes to collect things that are unique and rare. Things that are special and can't be found just anywhere.” I could see that he was an extraordinarily good looking young man. Yes, I could see why Lafayette may have wanted to collect him.
“I'm rare and special, then? That's a first,” I said ruefully.
“He wanted me because I speak several different languages, including an alien language, and I can learn them fairly quickly.” I brightened at the mention of this.
“Do you speak Hanga?” He seemed surprised I knew anything about it.
“Why, yes, I do.”
“Patrick, Something's been knocking around in my mind for a long time now. I once learned that one of these alien languages had a pattern similar to whale song. Would you know anything about that?” He seemed even more surprised now.
“I do have some information about that, slight as it is. I was told, and I've seen enough of the written language of Hanga to verify it in my own mind, that Hanga is a very old, ancient language on their planet. One of the oldest that has survived and is still spoken today. Like English, it is derived from a mother language. Gymori, or a proto-Gymori language. Gymori is not spoken any longer by any of the alien peoples except those belonging to certain academic disciplines or sacred callings. It's like Latin, in that it's a dead language. It is Gymori that has the sing-song patterns and features similar to, well, I guess, whale song. I'd thought of that too when I studied it.”
“My Gosh.”
“It's still used in higher disciplines as a written language and certain root words have been retained.”
“That's fascinating, Patrick!” I said, almost forgetting my plight. “How did you learn all of this so quickly?”
“I've always had an affinity for learning languages. I speak seven of them. It's a gift. I can read and interpret and decipher foreign documents, alien documents, and coded information packets that come through our systems or from things intercepted.” If there was a way I could help Patrick escape this place if he wanted to escape, or at least keep in contact with him, he would invaluable to U-Net. A serving mech came to us carrying a tray laden with more seafood delicacies. I took a small plate loaded with lobster tails and butter. We'd both abruptly stopped our conversation until the mech moved away. He then switched the subject and asked me a question.
“Are you physically strong? Do you think that you're in good shape?”
“I'm in decent shape. But you guys are the ones doing all the examinations around here. I'll leave that to your judgement.”
“Truly, be honest with me, Robert.” I was beginning to wonder where this was leading.
“As strong as I can be at my age. I'm almost forty.”
“Are you a good fighter?”
“Why?”
“I just ask, is all.”
“Would this have anything to do with The Game?” I asked. I attacked the stuffed lobster tails with gusto. I had no idea what was going to happen to me day by day any longer, so I enjoyed all I could get. Patrick threw me a penetrating look as I unabashedly gobbled my food down and licked my butter-soaked fingers. We walked through a gazebo and into a small water garden divided by a long, rectangular stone pool filled with a stream of fresh water. Peering down at the bottom of the pool I thought I detected a ligdu.
“There are spike fish and ryritars that come up from the streams that run underground on the property. They come up for feeding in this particular pool.”
“Ryritars?”
“They are a fish native to Eraut. Poisonous too, and frightening to look at. They are also absolutely delicious but you have to catch and eat them within a small window of time. During mating season the hormones that flood their bodies make them non-lethal. Eat them a day after the mating season is over and you die a slow, horrible death. The poison eats out your intestines, like an acid.”
“If they are now on an alien planet how do their bodies know when to release certain hormones? How do their bodies function properly here?”
“How do their bodies know when it is mating season?”
“Yeah.”
“On Eraut they were used to warm water and certain tiny flora and fauna they fed on in those waters that helped signal certain internal process in their bodies. We have an underground water system here that mimics that ecosystem for them.”
This pool was raised and flagged with highly polished stones. The soft gurgling of the stream was soothing. This was truly a marvelous place. It made me sad.
“And was that a ligdu I saw there at the bottom?”
“It may have been. I believe he owns one and has it brought out of the indoor aquarium in his bedroom to the fresh water pool every now and then. You've actually seen one before?”
“I have. In Syzygy. I know they are very hard to come by and endangered.”
“Which is why he has one. Endangered species to Lafayette are irresistible acquisitions for his collections. As for The Game, it's best not to talk of it here. But your escape out into the desert was a taste of what's to come.” Just as I'd suspected. This entire place had been turned from a flowering rose on Mars to its poisonous bane. The ferocious animals engineered here, the exotic aquatic life and food, the people, in every beautiful thing lurked a poison.
“Patrick? Patrick, my dear boy! It seems you and Robert are having quite a fascinating conversation down there!” Called a familiar voice. I looked up and saw Lafayette standing on the balcony outside one of the many rooms of his vast mansion. Perhaps he'd followed us above along the long balcony. He waved at us with one hand and was stroking the head of his pet snagar with the other. Her eyes glittering, she stared down at us both silent menace. Patrick flashed a white-toothed smile.
“We were just talking about the new water garden you've planted here, and the exotic fish and ligdu,” he said.
“Ah, ligdu. They are quite difficult to acquire,” he said with a satisfied grin. “You don't know the half of it. I'd spent a fortune to get it. And the cell samples from it I am sure will prove to be valuable in the future. Robert, have you ever heard of a ligdu?” I nodded. Perhaps if I displayed some knowledge of things he was interested in it might help elevate my position. It was worth a shot and I actually did know what a ligdu was. This surprised the bastard. Which pleased me.
“I've come across one in a personal aquarium. It was blue-greenish in color. I was informed that they're pan-dimensional beings. They can traverse time and space and exist in different places in time at the same time.”
The color in his face changed. He looked shocked now. Yes, I felt very pleased with myself.
“Where did you chance to see it?” He asked. I shrugged.
“I don't remember exactly who the owner was. It was some seedy hideout just outside of Syzygy. In the south.”
“You don't remember?”
“No.”
“A place just outside Syzygy,” he said thoughtfully. I could tell he was disappointed. But he already had one. Did he really need another? What was he going to do with them anyway? I actually did remember the owner, and I wasn't about to help Lafayette find her.
“I was too busy thinking about the task I had.”
“And that was?”
“A group, called the Sigra Gang stole an android from me and my friends and we needed to get it back. We were discussing plans on revenge so I wasn't too focused on exotic sea creatures at the time.” I don't like lying, but I felt I had no other choice. This man was very dangerous. And The Chemist had never done anything to cross me. No need to tell her business to him.
He studied me for a moment and then threw up his hands in a wide gesture.
“We meet interesting people all over this universe, don't we?” I got the distinct feeling that he'd been observing us very closely all along. He had a close group of friends that stepped out upon the balcony from behind him, peering down at us. I felt their eyes raking me over, examining me like a piece of meat.
“Fascinating indeed,” said the woman who was sitting with him during dinner. She came and stood next to him. She had a mean, sinister look in her small eyes. Her smile only made her look even more pinch-faced.
“Patrick, you lovely boy, you must come up and say hello! I've brought all six of my Irish wolfhounds this time! You simply must come and see them. They miss you!” Said the evil-eyed woman. Patrick clasped his hands together excitedly. He put a light hand on my back.
“Perhaps we'll talk later. I'll leave you here to enjoy the gardens. Remember the little black bugs,” he whispered this last part. I nodded to him and he left toward the house. I had now been robbed of my only friend in the mansion. I set my plate down on a bench and continued on my exploration of the water garden, hoping that I wouldn't have to run into any of Lafayette's other guests. I did notice on my explorations what looked like an arena, adjacent to a second agave garden just beyond the water gardens. There was an old man there who seemed to be sweeping the sandy grounds of the floor of the arena. I watched safely behind a long row of large sugaro cactus. Stooped, wan and pale with thin wisps of hair settling around his temples and a bald pate, the old man finished his work and looked as if he were exhausted. He leaned against a supporting wall for a few moments. I thought I detected a flashing gleam of light or metal about his head and then he disappeared behind two wide doors behind the arena wall. I wondered a great deal about that part of the mansion's property and about that man.
And for the rest of the evening, I got my wish. No one bothered me, though I knew my every move was being watched.
. . .
After a long evening into the violet, star-filled night of eating and drinking, I finally went back to my bedroom, escorted by a security mech.
As I stepped into the shower stall I saw a message written in a pale, creamy colored substance only a hint darker than the white metal of the shower wall. It said: “We are working on a plan of escape. Be ready.”
I stared at it for some minutes as it roused me out of my fatigue. Patrick. It had to be. But who was this “we”? I touched the words. Nothing came off onto my fingers. Was it written perhaps by some laser? But there were no marks that I could detect on the stall wall. As I turned on the water the hot steam made the words disappear and soon it was as if they hadn't been there at all. But they had been. A plan of escape! My heart quickened at the thought of it. I calmed myself. I had an important ally at Triskelion. How this escape would look, I didn't know but I felt hope rise in me.
I showered and readied myself for bed, feeling exhausted mentally, but happy. When I came out, wrapped in a towel I found a blonde woman sitting on my bed. She was, in all respects, beautiful. And dressed in only a silk robe. She had placed in her lap a small box. She opened it to reveal a collection of fragrant body oils.
I immediately felt a burning sense of malevolence.
“Lafayette sent you?” I asked, toweling off. She smiled.
“Lafayette didn't have to send me. But yes, he did. He thought you might appreciate a good massage.” She rolled up onto her knees and began laying out the oils on a lamp table next to the bed.
“I don't think so. Leave.”
“What's the matter? Feeling tense? I can massage those tense muscles for you-”
“I want you to leave. Now.” She lowered her eyes until her lashes touched her checks and rose from the bed. I watched her closely as she left. She turned once she reached the door.
“You could change your luck here if you play the game right.” I remained stonily silent and she eventually left. I already had all the information I needed, from Patrick, whom I sensed I could trust to at least tell me half-truths, if not everything. Everyone here was Lafayette's creature or associate; they'd thrown the towel in with him. Game players, Patrick had said they all were. Kiernan and Giren had alluded to the same thing. Whatever new game she'd been sent to play, I wasn't interested. I was ready for escape and I hoped the message in the shower wasn't one of their games. I had to prepare myself that perhaps it was. But I didn't think so.
The dinner and garden party ordeal was over and I wondered what the next day would bring as I lay down to sleep. I closed my eyes, thinking of my family. I wanted to go home so badly that salty tears fell from my eyes like water. I heard just the faintest whisper of a hiss. Somewhere in my bedroom, like the barely audible whirring sound of a humidifier or an air-conditioner. I hadn't noticed that before, except back in the rover. Was the air in my room being drugged? Was it my imagination? Something was about to happen to me, and soon.
Well, let it come.
11
To my surprise, Patrick had shown up to escort me back to my cell. I have to admit that I was disappointed. So soon? I'll miss all that good eatin'.
I wanted to ask him about the disappearing message in the shower, but it was unsafe to mention that now. His face was drawn and harrowed and his normally bright eyes were dark as if he'd had a difficult night. I found this disturbing since we had a relatively uneventful time talking the evening before.
Patrick had in his hand the remote for my collar. Besides that, there were guards everywhere and I didn't know the lay of the place at all. So there was little hope of me escaping, yet. And there was that dreaded snagar to worry about.
Once we left the mansion we came through a skywalk. This was a different one from which we came when I was taken to the mansion. To the side was an atrium, enclosed to my left with thick glass windows spanning the length of the walkway. Housed inside were birds. I could hear the wide variety of tropical and desert birds. Out of a thick plume of bushes slid the head of a large, bird-raptor-like creature. It's watchful eyes followed us as we made our way down the walkway beyond the safety of the glass. It lifted its head higher and I saw the full size of its head, as large as a jet pack. It hungrily clicked its huge, wicked looking beak at us. I wondered why he'd chosen to go this way and tried not to jump to conclusions. It was difficult.
From the walkway we entered another elevator lift
“Is something wrong?” I asked. He didn't answer.
An elderly man dressed in a white coat approached us as soon as we stepped from the elevator.
“Hello, Patrick.”
“Hello, Dr. Fairchild.”
“Is this the new man we have in the cells?” Patrick nodded as they both looked at me.
“Specimen,” insisted one of the guards. The old man shook his head sadly and ignored this insult to me.
“I certainly hope that you survive this place. Robert, is it?”
“Robert.�
�� Who is this guy?
“I've heard much about you.” Another security guard rounded the corner, his footsteps sounded a hard staccato on the metal floor. Patrick coughed meaningfully. The old man's eyes darted nervously from the guard to us.
“I'd better go,” he said and quickly made off.
I could hear the familiar sounds of grunts, screeching, wailing and growling animals and distant conversations of technicians and mechs and researchers. The Virtual Voice responding to various commands in distant parts of the complex and I couldn't help but feel despair at my fallen luck.
“If only I were given a chance at freedom again,” I said looking back at Patrick. An odd expression lined his young face, making him look far older than his years. He seemed like a different person, highly shaken.
“He. . .collects things. And he's very jealous over the things he regards as his. Even when he no longer has any use for them.” He paused for a few seconds. “He had an electronic security device inserted in my body so that it can't be seen. So, I still wear a collar. It's just invisible to others.” And he gave me a despairing look before turning and leaving after the metal door to my cell closed and locked.
Alarm bells went off in my mind. No longer any use?
I sat on the ground wondering what it had all been for. I was confused as to what Patrick was doing and about what my little excursions had all really meant, if not to amuse the jaded and violent tastes of Lafayette and his bored, rich friends.
“You're back!” Exclaimed Giren.
“And whole too, I presume?” Asked Kiernan.
“Nah. They didn't chop me up for parts, yet.”
“So what happened? Where did you go? This is the only excitement we've had all week! With the exception of Giren getting his sores tended to by the old man.” I'd noticed that his sores didn't seem to be weeping as much.
I went on to explain to them my short stay in the mansion. And of my little adventure through the panel in my cell wall.
“Splendid! You got one of the bastards!” Said Kiernan with glee. “I'm glad for you. But how did you happen upon a lasergun?” I didn't want to give away an ally. I had to be careful.
Mission: Harbeasts of Mars Page 10