by Rick Cook
"But we know they’re going to."
"But they haven’t. So we don’t touch it."
"Like, the KGB is really going to use a supercomputer in the United States."
"It’s the GRU-military intelligence-and they’re still legal."
"Bullshit!"
"Maybe," Wiz said firmly. "But that’s the way we’re going to play it."
They walked on in silence. Their feet made no noise on the carpeted floor and the dim light from the ceiling panels had a bluish cast that made it seem even dimmer.
As they came around a corner, they saw movement ahead. Instinctively they both froze. Then Wiz realized it was June.
June was always cat-quiet when she moved, edging along the walls of a room as if she was afraid something would grab her. Now she was moving even more stealthily. She kept her back to the wall and stepped sideways with large cross-body steps that carried her along utterly without sound.
Danny moved to say something, but Wiz put a cautionary hand on his arm. As silently as she had come, June disappeared down the cross-corridor.
"What’s June doing sneaking around like that?"
"She’s not sneaking!" Danny fired back.
"All right, she’s not sneaking. What’s she doing?"
Danny dropped his eyes and didn’t say anything.
"Danny…" Wiz began dangerously.
"She’s…" He took a deep breath. "Well, she’s watching."
"Watching who?"
"That elf dude. She doesn’t trust him."
"That’s obvious. Any special reason?"
"Because he’s dangerous. Because he doesn’t belong here."
"He’s our ally."
"How do we know that? Because he says so?"
"Because he is," Wiz told him with a lot more firmness than he felt.
"Look man, June knows elves. She lived with them for hundreds of years, right? She doesn’t trust him and that’s good enough for me."
"He’s saved my life a couple of times and that’s good enough for me," Wiz retorted. "Look, I told you once before you don’t have to like him, but you’re going to have to work with him. If you or June can’t handle that, I’ll have to send you back to the Capital."
Danny just snorted and turned away.
The only thing worse than flying over the ocean, Glandurg decided, was flying over the ocean at night. It was bad enough to look down and see nothing but water beneath you, but it was worse to look down and not see the water you knew was there.
This whole trip was worse than anything he had imagined. He was cramped and sore after hours of hanging from a griffin’s talons. He was mortally tired, but he could not get any sleep. He was chilled nearly to the marrow from the night cold and wind. He was still half-airsick from the terrible fog bank they had gone through a while ago where everything was suddenly wrong. Now the griffin that bore him was laboring and wheezing as if from exhaustion.
Well, at least Thorfin had stopped moaning and Gimli wasn’t retching any more. The next time I make a journey like this I will insist on a flying carpet, he declared to himself. It costs more, but the extra comfort is worth it.
The truth of the matter, he admitted to himself, was that he didn’t want to make a journey like this. Not ever again. Not even the quest was worth this misery. He would have gladly ordered the griffins to turn around and take them home if it didn’t mean flying for hours and hours more.
A sudden move by the griffin jerked him out of his misery and sent a new thrill of terror through him. The griffin had banked and seemed to be losing altitude. Glandurg’s heart jumped into his throat at the thought of going down in the ocean.
Then his dwarvishly keen nose caught a new smell mingled with the iodine-and-salt odor of the ocean. A smell of mud and decay that was like perfume to him. Land! There was land ahead.
Glandurg fumbled with half-numb fingers for the thong around his throat. The talisman was glowing brightly and the arrow pointed sharp and clear straight ahead of them.
"We have got to do something about June," Wiz told his wife the next morning over breakfast. "Now she’s taken to sneaking around after Duke Aelric."
"I know," Moira said calmly.
"Huh?"
Moira laid down her slice of bread. "Love, not everyone is as oblivious to what goes on around them as you are. And more importantly, Duke Aelric knows as well."
"He said something?"
"He is an elf. He knows."
"Great!" Wiz sighed. "All we need to do is insult Aelric."
"Has he told you he is insulted?"
"No, but you know how touchy he is."
Moira reached for the jam. "Just so. If he were insulted, you would know it. I take it he has said nothing?" She cocked her head. "No? Then it does not concern him and should not concern you."
Wiz grunted. "Anyway I’m going to send June back to the Capital."
"Danny will not like that."
"Then Danny can go back too. Dammit, she’s not supposed to be here in the first place!"
Moira looked amused. "Perhaps not. But do you seriously think you can keep her and Danny apart?"
Wiz considered that. "With a moat full of crocodiles, maybe."
"I would bet on June over the crocodiles. No, love, I am not sure even death could separate those two."
"So I send them both back."
"Wiz, I do not mean to tell you how to mind your business," his wife said in a tone indicating she was about to do exactly that, "but I think that would be unwise for two reasons."
Wiz started to say something, but Moira held up her hand to stop him.
"First, what can Danny accomplish back at the Capital? He needs to be with you and Jerry to be effective, does he not?"
"Yeah, but…"
"And second, do you think anyone at the Capital can control him?"
Wiz thought about that. "Right. He doesn’t listen to anyone except Jerry and me and half the time he doesn’t listen to us." He sighed. "Okay, he stays and that means June stays. But for Pete’s sake will you use whatever influence you have with her to get her to lay off Aelric?"
"I have already spoken to her and I will do so again. But I fear she is even more resistant to direction than Danny. Besides, in this case she has a very strong motive for following Aelric."
"Danny says it’s because she doesn’t trust him."
"I am sure that is true. But I think there is more to it. She spies on him because she fears him."
"And that’s why she doesn’t trust him."
Moira shook her head. "Again, I think that is true in part. But mostly I think she follows him because it is a way to rise above her fear. She somewhat controls the thing she fears, you see."
"Not exactly, no."
"Nevertheless it is so."
"Sheesh! I dunno. This whole thing used to be so simple. There were good guys and bad guys and it was easy to tell the difference. Now…" He shrugged.
Moira reached out and took his hand. "You have managed well enough so far."
"Yeah, but you’d think this saving the world business would get easier with practice. It just seems to get harder and more complicated every time."
"Let us hope this is the final time, love."
"Yeah," Wiz said fervently and squeezed her hand.
"Besides," Moira went on brightly. "There is a positive side to this, you know. You said we needed to do something about June. June is doing something about herself. It is helping to heal her."
"That’s something, I guess."
They ate in silence for a while.
"Moira?" Wiz said at last.
"Yes, love?"
"Do you trust Duke Aelric?"
The redheaded witch considered. "Not trust, exactly. I think that as he says, his goals and ours run together on this thing. Besides, Bal-Simba says he is worthy in this and I trust Bal-Simba."
Wiz hesitated. "You really don’t like him, do you? Aelric, I mean."
Moira paused. "Nooo," she said at last. "I do
not like him."
"You seemed to like him well enough when we met him in the Wild Wood."
"He saved our lives in the Wild Wood."
"But you never said anything that indicated you don’t like him."
Moira sighed and bit into her bread and jam. "Liking or not liking an elf is like liking or not-liking a mountain," she said around the mouthful of food. "An elf or a mountain simply is and you must accept that."
"Well, I like him," Wiz said firmly. "And I trust him too."
He turned back to his own breakfast. Just maybe not as much as I used to, he thought as he reached for the butter.
* * *
Even for humans, the place was strange looking, Glandurg thought as he crouched on the hill looking down on his enemy’s new lair. It was only one story, even if it did run out in all directions. The stone of the walls looked solid enough, but the place had windows as big as doors! Not a moat or a crenelation to be seen.
Not even a log palisade. He snorted silently. The place was defenseless.
There was a tiny noise in the bushes and Ragnar slithered back into view. Glandurg and the others crowded around him.
"Dwarf-proof!" he said disgustedly. "Whole bloody place is spelled against us."
Glandurg wanted to beat his fist in the dirt in frustration. But it would not do to lose control in front of his followers. "Then we will wait and watch," he said between gritted teeth. "The wizard cannot stay within forever."
Twenty: MEETING BY MOONLIGHT
Unlike the Wizard’s Keep, the small staff at the Mousehole did not work around the clock. By nine P.M. the hallways were deserted and by midnight the place was as silent as a tomb.
It was well past midnight when a shadow slipped into the lobby and paused at the main door. A remarkably well-dressed shadow.
Aelric’s cloak was blue at the shoulders fading to purple and finally to black at the hem. Here and there upon it gems sparkled like stars in fading twilight. As he turned June saw his tunic was dove gray and his hose pure white. He turned fully and she caught her breath and shrank back into the shadow. But his face remained as serene as always and he gave no hint that he knew she was there.
Then liquidly, noiselessly, he opened the door and slipped out into the night. June waited for a moment and then followed, not nearly so graceful but just as soundlessly.
Aelric did not sneak, but nonetheless he moved quickly and gracefully in an odd twisting fashion that was hard for a human eye to follow.
About a half mile from headquarters the path wound through a thick patch of ferns and then dropped into an open glade. June hesitated for a moment and when Aelric did not emerge on the path that came out of the depression, she dropped to her hands and knees and crept forward.
She knew the glade well enough. By day it was a pleasant spot and once or twice she and Danny had come this way to picnic and make love. Under the full moon their pleasant little picnic spot was transformed into something completely different.
Through a break in the lacy foliage June caught a glimpse of movement in the glade. Oblivious to the damage to her dress, she pressed herself flat to the earth and slowly wormed her way forward through the overhanging ferns.
The moon was high and its silvery light poured into the clearing. Duke Aelric stood in the middle of the open space and he was not alone. There was another cloaked figure beside him, nearly as tall as he was. Then Aelric moved and June saw it was Lisella.
She was near as pale as the moonlight itself and her hair cascaded down her back dark as the forest shadows. Like Aelric she was wearing a cloak with the hood thrown back. To a normal mortal she would have been heartbreakingly beautiful, but June dug her fingers into the soil and pressed herself flatter at the sight.
Neither of the elves spared a glance for their surroundings. They were deep in conversation. The liquid tones of elf speech did not carry well, but June could see clearly enough.
Lisella was speaking quickly, her eyes focused on Duke Aelric’s face. Aelric heard her out without changing expression and then said something with a half-smile that made her draw back and bite out a retort.
From her hiding place June watched intently. Normally elves were impassive or half-mocking when they spoke to each other. She had never seen them talk together like this.
Lisella faced Aelric square on and said something. Aelric half-nodded, as if agreeing with her, and then responded calmly. Lisella seemed to have trouble controlling her temper. She said something short and sharp.
Aelric made a chopping motion with his hand and turned away, as if to leave. Lisella’s voice caught and held him. He turned back to her. Without moving closer he spoke firmly to her. She looked at him closely and then shrugged.
Lisella cocked her head and said something with a mocking little smile. Aelric nodded.
She arched an eyebrow slightly but he said nothing and stood firm. At last she nodded and spoke. He bowed formally and she responded with a half-curtsey. Then she turned and swept out of the clearing. Aelric stood watching her for a moment and then took the moonlit path back toward headquarters.
June remained flat on her belly under the ferns for a long time before she rose cautiously and slipped back to the fortress.
Wiz got an early start the next morning and by the time Danny arrived in the lab he was deep in his latest project.
"You know your buddy, the elf dude?" the young programmer said as soon as he stepped into the room.
"It’s elf duke," Wiz said without looking up from the code he was debugging.
"Whatever. Anyway you know Lisella, the one you said was trying to kill you?"
Wiz looked up cautiously. "Yeah?"
"Did you know Aelric’s meeting her here?"
"What? How do you know that?"
"June saw them out in the forest last night. She says it looked like they were arguing about something."
"So June’s still following Aelric."
"You ought to be glad someone is," Danny snapped. "Didn’t you hear what I said? He’s meeting with the one who’s trying to kill you!"
"She’s not trying to kill me anymore."
"She sure wasn’t trying to do you any good when she showed up at the City of Night."
Wiz laid down the scroll he was holding. "Look, I don’t know why Aelric’s meeting Lisella. But right now we can’t afford to alienate him. So tell June to lay off, will you?"
Danny stared at him, hard. "Man, you’re goddamn blind! You just don’t want to see, do you?" With that he turned on his heel and stomped out of the lab.
* * *
In the next hour Wiz got maybe two lines of code written. Finally he gave it up and went to find Moira.
Moira was in the storeroom, overseeing the stocking of a load of supplies which had been brought over the Wizard’s Way that morning. While the servants bustled about, Wiz took her off in a corner and told her June’s tale.
"A human spying on elves?" she said when Wiz had finished. "It seems unlikely. They can pass unseen by mortals as easily as they breathe."
"Yeah, but if anyone could do it, it would be June. Besides, magic doesn’t work as well here, remember?"
The hedge witch wrinkled her brow. "To be sure it is an unlikely tale for her to concoct. Well, if it is true, then we must be even more careful with our elf duke."
"I thought you trusted him, more or less."
"Less now than before."
"I don’t know, though. If he wanted to harm us there are a lot easier ways to do it. Why go through all this rigamarole of pretending to ally with us?"
"Well," Moira said, "it is said that elves are tricksome and strange."
Twenty-one: THE GREAT PLANE ROBBERY
Ivan Semonovich Kuznetsov, major in the GRU, snapped awake and sought groggily for the thing that had awakened him.
The four big Ivchenko turboprop engines on the wings of the AN 12 transport beat steadily as the plane bore east and a little north toward Leningrad. His cheek was slightly numb from the cold a
nd vibration where it had rested against the metal side of the cabin.
But there had been something…
He shook it off. Too much vodka last night, that was all. Truly it was a terrible thing to grow old. Not that thirty-three was old, but he could no longer drink the night away and rise fresh with the dawn.
But this dawn there was cause enough for celebration. Snug in the belly of the aircraft was the newest, fastest graphics supercomputer the Americans made. In a few hours it would be in Leningrad and Major Ivan Kuznetsov could expect to share in the rewards of a job well done.
The computer had traveled a long and shifty path from the factory in Texas. It had originally been ordered for a research institute in England, but by a carefully staged "coincidence" it had been diverted to Austria and from there on to what had been East Germany where the Soviet intelligence service still had friends. Kuznetsov had some small part in all of that. Now he was accompanying it on the last leg of its trip to the Soviet Union.
Where it would go once it reached Soviet soil he did not know and would never have dreamed to ask. There were many important projects in the motherland that required computers which were beyond the current abilities of the socialist nations to build. Since the Americans still would not sell such computers openly, the nation relied on the GRU, the intelligence arm of the Red Army, to acquire them in other ways.
"Comrade Major…" Kuznetsov jerked fully awake. Whenever one of his subordinates addressed him as "comrade" he knew something had gone wrong.
"Yes, Sergeant?"
"The computer…" Vasily began. In a flash the GRU major was out of his seat, thrusting the man out of the way and diving headlong through the door into the cargo compartment.
"It’s gone," the sergeant’s voice echoed after him.
Kuznetsov didn’t need Vasily to tell him that. The webbing that had bound the computer tightly in place was a tangled limp mass on the floor. The wooden pallets were exactly as they had been, but the crates were gone.
"Yo momma!"
Like a wild beast Kuznetsov spun and sprang for the cockpit door. His sergeant pressed against the bulkhead to let him pass as he squeezed into the cockpit. Before the pilot could turn to him he grabbed the man’s shoulder and tried to twist him around in his seat.