Oracle

by Mike Resnick

  “Half a world,” he corrected her.

  “You're referring to Lord Lucifer, of course?”

  Chandler nodded.

  “He's out of the equation,” said Jade, her expression as cold and hard as Chandler's own. “Or did you really think you were the only killer in this room?”

  20.

  Jade ushered Chandler to a large, luxurious room next to her own. It possessed an ornate airbed, hard-carved furniture from the Domar system, and the same holographic display she had in her office.

  “I'll pass the word that I've got a special friend living here, and everyone will leave you alone,” she said.

  “Won't they want to see who your special friend is?” asked Chandler.

  “What's wrong with that?” she retorted. “The more people who know you're here, the better. We'll even have all your meals brought up here. The trick is not to let anyone see you leave.” She paused. “That's a false closet,” she continued, indicating one of four identical mirrored doors lining one of the walls. “I'll rig it to respond to your retinagram, so it will open whenever you approach it and stay open for, shall we say, twenty seconds? Behind it is an airlift that will take you down to my garage. You'll enter and leave the building through it, and no one will know you're gone.”

  “I saw a number of doors down the corridor,” said Chandler. “How much business gets transacted on this floor?”

  “Almost none, unless we're overcrowded. Some of the girls sleep up here when they're too tired or too busy to go home.” Jade paused. “It would probably be a good idea for you to meet a few of them and try to make friends with them; the more people who can vouch that you spend all your time up here, the better.”

  “It sounds good,” he replied. “I'll need to take a tour of the city tomorrow.”

  “I'll be off duty just before sunrise,” she said. “We'll leave then.” She paused. “I'd better fetch you the first time, until you learn your way around.” Jade walked to the door. “I'll see you in a few hours.”

  He offered no reply, and she left the room.

  Chandler took a Dryshower, shaved, and then lay down on the bed. He was asleep almost instantly, but some internal clock woke him up about twenty minutes before Jade was due back, and he was dressed and ready for her when she appeared.

  “You look pleased with yourself,” he noted as she entered the room, dressed in a more practical outfit and handed him the weapons he had requested. “I take it the whorehouse did a good night's business.”

  “Actually, it was only average,” she replied. “But I did a good night's business.” She tossed two small packets onto the bed.

  “What are these?”

  “The top one contains your new ID papers and passport.”

  “Thanks,” he said, studying them with an expert eye. “That was fast.”

  “You're paying for it.”

  “And what's in the other one?”

  “Take a look.”

  He picked it up and opened it, withdrawing a sheet of paper on which were written a trio of incomprehensible alien symbols.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “One of The Womb's clients works for the Planetary Defense Department,” she replied.

  “I didn't know you had one.”

  “When you live on a moon, and you're outnumbered hundreds to one by a hostile population on the planet that you're orbiting, you'd damned well better have one,” she said. “Oh, we couldn't win a war with the Blue Devils. In fact, we probably couldn't last ten minutes if they attacked us. But we monitor all their transmissions, and if we ever have cause to believe that an attack is being planned, we'll send for the Navy.” She paused. “Anyway, this client specializes in translating and decoding the Blue Devils’ transmissions. And that,” she concluded, gesturing toward the paper, “is the way the Blue Devils refer to the Oracle in their own language.”

  “How did you get him to write this down?”

  “First, I got him a little drunk,” said Jade with a smile. “And then I appealed to his ego, which, alas, is the most massive thing about him. By the time he wakes up in the morning, he won't even remember he wrote it.”

  “All right,” said Chandler. “Now I know how to spell the Oracle's name on Hades. So what?”

  “Well,” said Jade, “it seems to me that if you're trying to elicit a response, to use your own words, you can elicit it a lot faster if you'll leave this symbol on each of your victims.”

  Chandler considered her suggestion. “Not bad,” he admitted.

  “It's damned good,” replied Jade. “If they think the Oracle's responsible for the killings, she'll have to try to capture you to prove she's innocent. And if they think she's being set up, they're going to want her to stop you from killing them with such impunity. She flashed him a triumphant smile. “They might even think you're trying to elicit a response so that we're justified in bringing in the Fleet.”

  “That ought to shake them up,” agreed Chandler. He paused thoughtfully. “I'd like you to do something else for me.”

  “What?”

  “Contact the guy who gave this to you and see if he knows which Blue Devil is sending those messages—and also see if he can identify any other Blue Devils who work for the Oracle, or if he knows the location from which they're being sent. I think we'll get a much quicker response if I go after those Blue Devils who are in communication with her.”

  “I'll make a point of finding out next time he's here.”

  “How often does he show up here?” asked Chandler.

  She shrugged. “It varies.”

  Chandler shook his head. “Not good enough. He could stay away for weeks.”

  “All right,” said Jade. “I'll invite him to lunch after I show you around the city.”

  “Will he come?”

  She smiled. “If I invite him, he'll come.” She paused. “Well,” she said at last, “are you ready to go?”

  “Lead the way.”

  She walked to the false closet, waited for it to open, and led him inside. A moment later they floated gently down to the basement level on the heavy air currents. There were two vehicles parked there: an elegant, chrome-and-gold groundcar that, like the public coaches, was capable of skimming just above the ground, but also possessed wheels for those streets that hadn't been treated for superconductivity; and a very old, very nondescript vehicle that had seen better days and even better decades, but which would arouse almost no interest. She entered the latter, and he climbed into the front seat beside her.

  “What do you think of it?” she asked.

  “It belongs in a home for the elderly.”

  “It might surprise you, Javier,” she replied with a smile. “I've had the whole thing rebuilt and customized beneath this exterior. It's twice as fast as the showpiece over there,” she continued, indicating the groundcar.

  “Interesting,” commented Chandler.

  “Practical,” answered Jade. “It doesn't draw attention the way the other one does, and as a result I can maintain my privacy when I have to go out.”

  She pulled out of the garage and drove up a ramp to the street, then turned north.

  “You've got to watch out for these damned coaches,” she commented, moving to the side of the street to allow a coach to pass her. “They're omnipresent, and they're responsible for 80% of the accidents in the city.”

  “Where are we going?” asked Chandler.

  “Blue Devil heaven.”

  “That's what it's called?”

  “It's what it ought to be called,” replied Jade. “It's the area where most of the Blue Devils congregate. There are a few shops, but no restaurants, no nightclubs, no whorehouses, nothing but apartment buildings. They're a strange race, Javier—I've been on Port Maracaibo for eleven years, and I still don't know what the hell they're doing here. They're not part of the economy, they don't work, they don't organize politically, they don't interact with Men ... they just hang around on street corners like a bunch of surly human
teenagers.”

  “They must emigrate here for some reason,” said Chandler.

  “I suppose so,” she agreed. “But I'll be damned if anyone I know can tell you what it is.”

  “Maybe they just want some token presence here in case they ever try to reclaim the moons, some legal justification to prove they've never really relinquished them.”

  She shook her head. “That's a good, logical, human reason—so it's probably not valid.” She looked ahead. “Here it comes,” she announced. “Once we cross this big street coming up, we're in their neighborhood.”

  Chandler looked out the window and studied the area. Most of the buildings had been built for human residents, and had fallen into various states of disrepair. Blue Devils lined the streets, most of them simply standing and staring, a few walking purposefully.

  “What do they do for entertainment?” asked Chandler. “Have they got anything akin to holos or theaters?”

  “Damned if I know.”

  “I thought you'd been living here for eleven years.”

  “We don't bother them, they don't bother us,” answered Jade. “Both races prefer it that way.”

  “Drive by the heart of their commercial district,” said Chandler. “I want to take a look at it.”

  She turned left for a block, then continued going north. In another moment they came to a single block that was lined with shops and stores, almost half of which were groceries markets.

  “Go slower,” said Chandler.

  Jade slowed the vehicle's pace.

  “It won't work,” she said.

  “What won't?”

  “Destroying some grocery stores,” she answered. “They're not like us. You're just as likely to disrupt them by killing some innocuous-looking Blue Devil who's standing on a corner, minding his own business.”

  “I'll do both if I have to,” he replied. “I'd much rather find out which Blue Devils have some connection to the Oracle, though.”

  “I told you I'd get your information,” she said irritably. “In case it's escaped your notice, I haven't been out of your presence since you first said you wanted it.”

  “I'm sorry,” he said. “It's just that I find the thought of killing hundreds of Blue Devils wasteful. I'd rather kill two or three who matter to the Oracle and get the same response.”

  “A moral assassin,” she said with an amused smile.

  “Not everyone gets into this business because they like to kill people,” he replied.

  “Then why do you do it?”

  “Because I find all forms of business distasteful,” answered Chandler. “This one pays me enough so that I don't have to work very often.”

  “I suppose there's a twisted kind of logic to that,” said Jade.

  “Let's leave this part of the city,” he said after a few more minutes had passed. “Go back to The Womb and then just start driving around that general area. I want to get the feel of it, and to make sure I can find my way back in the dark.”

  She headed for The Womb, spent another twenty minutes criss-crossing the vicinity, and finally pulled into the sunken garage.

  “I'm going to leave you here and try to get some more information,” said Jade. “Once you get back up to your room, just tell the computer what you want to eat and it will transmit the order to our kitchen.”

  “You've got a kitchen?” he asked, surprised.

  “Well, actually it's in the restaurant next door, but the buildings are connected. In the meantime, I'll see what I can find out about the transmissions.” She seemed about to open the door, then paused. “Can I ask you a question, Javier?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Just what is it that makes the Oracle so valuable to the Democracy?” asked Jade. “We've all heard of her, but no one knows exactly who she is or what she does.”

  “She sees the future.”

  “Second sight?”

  “More than that. If all she could do was see what was going to happen next, I think everyone except gamblers and stockbrokers would leave her alone.”

  “What else does she do?”

  “She not only sees the future, she manipulates it,” answered Chandler. “She sees every possible future, every permutation, and she tries to make the one she wants come to pass.”

  “You're kidding!”

  “No, I'm not.”

  “If she's got the power to make anything happen that she can envision, why hasn't she conquered the galaxy by now?”

  He shrugged. “It's a big galaxy. And I think her power has its limits.”

  “What limits?”

  “I don't know,” he admitted. “But if she didn't have them, she would have conquered the galaxy by now—or at least changed it a hell of a lot more than she has.”

  “Just the same,” said Jade, “I hope they're paying you enough.”

  “Sometimes I wonder about that myself,” he said, getting out of the vehicle.

  He floated up to his room, ordered a meal, decided that it was a good thing the brothel wasn't depending on the quality of its food to make a profit, then lay back on his airbed and watched a prerecorded game of murderball on the holo.

  Jade entered the room just as the game, and its few remaining participants, had headed into overtime.

  “How did you do?” he asked, getting to his feet.

  “Well, I've got your first victim for you,” she said. “And with a little luck, I may have the Oracle's location by tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh?”

  She nodded. “My friend is putting a tracer on their transmissions. He'll be able to pinpoint the exact location on Hades that they're being sent to.”

  Chandler considered the possibilities for a moment, then grimaced. “I don't know if that will be of much use to us,” he said. “It's probably relayed half a dozen times before it reaches her.” He paused. “But I'd like to know where it's sent from.”

  “We're working on it,” answered Jade. “In the meantime, you've got your own work cut out for you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Blue Devil you want—the one who sent the transmission my friend told me about—is named Kraef Timo. I don't know what his function is, but it must be something pretty damned important.”

  “What makes you think so?” asked Chandler.

  “He's got half a dozen bodyguards.”

  “How could your friend possibly know that? I thought he just checked transmissions.”

  “I have other friends,” said Jade. “And one of them is a local policeman who's on my payroll. Once I got Kraef Timo's name, I asked him to run it through his computer, just to see if there was anything on him. And it turns out that they arrested Timo on a very minor violation about five months ago—it never even went to court—but when they went to his quarters to bring him in, he had to call off his bodyguards or there'd have been a real bloodbath.”

  “Very interesting,” said Chandler. “Where do I find this Timo?”

  “He's one of the few Blue Devils who doesn't live in their sector,” said Jade. “He's got a suite of rooms at The Uncut Diamond—that's a hotel about ten blocks from here.”

  “I assume his bodyguards stay there with him?”

  “Yes, they do.”

  “Is Timo likely to be there after dark?”

  She shrugged. “Since nobody knows what he does, nobody knows his hours.” She paused. “Are you really sure you want to go up against six armed Blue Devils?”

  “I can think of things I'd rather do.”

  “But you're going to do it anyway?”

  “I can't think of a better way to start putting some pressure on her.”

  “Maybe I can get another name from my friend, someone who sends transmissions and doesn't have a walking arsenal following him around.”

  He shook his head. “The bodyguards are precisely what makes this one such a desirable target.” He paused. “Why don't you come back for me in about six hours?”

  “What are you going to do in the meant
ime?” she asked.

  “Take a nap,” he said, reclining on the airbed. “I've got a busy night ahead of me.”

  He closed his eyes, and a moment later he was sound asleep.

  Jade stared at him for a long moment, then left his room and returned to her own. And sat down. And for the first time, tried to decide whether she really wanted the Oracle to come to Port Maracaibo looking for Chandler and his confederates.

  21.

  Chandler awoke just after sunset, ordered dinner, and spent the next half hour watching various sporting events on the holo screen. Then Jade entered his room and approached him.

  “Are you ready?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Let's wait another two or three hours. I want to give Timo's bodyguards a little time to get sleepy.”

  “Good,” said Jade, pulling up a chair and sitting down. “Because we have to talk.”

  “What about?”

  “About the Oracle.”

  Chandler stared at her. “Go ahead,” he said. “I'm listening.”

  “Why are you trying to lure her to Port Maracaibo?”

  “I told you why,” said Chandler.

  “I know what you told me,” she said. “Now I want you to tell me something else.”

  “What?”

  “How do you know this is your idea?”

  “She's no telepath,” he replied. “The man who hired me actually spent some time with her some years ago.”

  “She doesn't have to be a telepath,” persisted Jade.

  “I don't think I follow you.”

  “You told me yourself: she can see an infinite number of futures, and manipulate things so that the future she wants will come to pass. Maybe she chose the one future in which you came to Port Maracaibo and devised this particular plan.”

  “I doubt it,” said Chandler. “But even if it's true, so what? My job is to bring her out.”

  “What if she doesn't want to go with you?” said Jade. “What if she just needs an excuse to leave Hades?”

  “For what reason?”

  “How should I know what reason?” responded Jade. “I just want to know how you can be sure she's not pulling your strings right this moment.”