Crown of the Serpent

by Allen Wold

  "That won't leave you much," Jack said. He tried to ease the flap of his coat from the butt of his gun.

  "I'll just pick up whatever's left and be clear of you."

  "Maybe that blaster doesn't work anymore," Ann said. "It looks pretty old."

  "One sure way to find out," the man said with a smile. "Now you, unbuckle that laser and let it drop."

  Ann did so without hesitation, but the man wasn't looking at her. He was smiling at Djentsin. With a snort, Djentsin tossed his gun on the bed, just beyond the Leaf. The man didn't blink, but just turned his gaze to Jack. "You too," he said. It had been a long time since Jack had seen eyes that hard.

  Jack held a beat, then pulled his coat aside and, with both hands, getting to his feet as he did so, undid the buckle of his holster. He let the belt fall.

  "Now," the man said, "let's see what you've got. Back away."

  Jack moved to one side of the case, Ann to the other. The man smiled softly, and they backed further.

  The man came up to within a meter of the case and looked down at it but did not crouch. "Fancy bag," he said. "I'll look into it later. Now, empty your pockets, put everything down on the floor. You, fella, get to your feet."

  They did as they were told. Then, while the man was looking at Ann, Jack reached under his collar, as if to adjust the chain he wore around his neck, as if to ensure that it was properly concealed. And as he had hoped, the man noticed this small action.

  "What you got there?" the man asked even as Jack let his hands fall to his sides. Jack stepped back just a little bit. "Come on," the man insisted. His head was slightly tilted to one side. "Let's see what it is."

  Jack, feigning reluctance, reached up with both hands and took the chain from under the collar at the back of his neck, so that when he drew it over his head, the end down the front of his shirt was still concealed. He hesitated, then the man reached out and took the chain and pulled it away from Jack's shirt. Dangling from the long loop was a large gem set in a simple gold clasp.

  The man's eyes flickered when he saw it, and a slow smile crept over his face. "Pretty fancy for a guy to be wearing, ain't it." He stepped back a couple of paces, then jerked the chain so that the gem swung up into the palm of his hand, all the while keeping his eyes on Jack. "This just might make it worth the trouble you've caused me," he said. He held his blaster steady, aimed at the floor between Jack and Ann where the bolt would take them both out if he fired.

  Then he opened his other hand palm up, glanced down at the gem, held a beat, glanced back up at Jack with a very odd expression on his face, looked down at his hand again, which he brought closer to his face, the better to see the fire-colored gem sparkling on his palm. His eyes widened, he took a deep breath, then he stopped moving, as if he had been hypnotized.

  Jack glanced at Ann. She was smiling. Then he stepped up to the man and bent down to look up into his enraptured face.

  "What...?" Djentsin started to ask.

  Jack did not touch the gem, but gently removed the blaster from the man's right hand. He looked over the weapon and turned back to Djentsin. "It's old," he said, holding out the blaster, "but it works." Then he returned to the case and knelt again, put the blaster down beside it, looked up at Djentsin, and said, "I really want to make this deal."

  Ann bent down to retrieve her laser as Djentsin came around Jack to look at the immobile man. Jack knelt back. This would take a moment. Djentsin stared into the man's face, then looked at the gem in his hand, and started to touch it.

  "Leave it be," Ann said, "or he'll wake up again."

  Djentsin pulled his hand back and looked down at Jack. "That's dialithite," he said, waving vaguely at their paralyzed intruder. Jack said nothing. "You don't need the Leaves," Djentsin went on, "that gem is worth more than all of them put together."

  "That may be," Jack said. "If I wanted to sell the stone, it would certainly bring enough to let Ann and me live comfort­ably for the rest of our lives. But then I wouldn't have it any­more, and sometimes the effect it has on people is worth more than money—like right now for example. Shall I open the case, or do you want to call the deal off?"

  Djentsin stared at him a long moment, then, "Open the case," he said.

  Djentsin didn't seem concerned for his safety anymore, or for any possible treachery. He stood beside the case as Jack thumbed the inner catches. The case seemed to split in two once more, in the other direction this time, and Jack opened the two sides away from each other, so that now the case was twice as wide and twice as long and a quarter as deep as it had originally been. But once again the inside was covered by panels.

  "Damn funny case," Djentsin said.

  "It is that," Jack said. "Cost a small fortune, but like the dragongem, it comes in handy." He undid four more recessed latches, in the middle corners of the panels, and one by one opened them. The space beneath them was very dark, and something about it made the eyes dance. He reached in, his hands seemingly swallowed by shadow darker than it should be, and grabbed at something invisible within. He got to one foot, pulled up, and drew out a thing like a double scroll, wrapped in figured leather, the staff-ends long and elaborately carved. It was almost two meters tall and half a meter wide.

  Djentsin's breath changed, deep and slow.

  "What would you rather have," Ann said, "the dragongem or this and the rest of the Reliquiture?"

  "It's the Shanteliar," Djentsin said. His voice was almost reverential. "God damn. But... what else you got in there?"

  "Just this this time," Ann said as Jack handed the object to Djentsin. "It's about all that would fit, actually."

  The Shanteliar was heavy. Djentsin took it from Jack care­fully and reverently. It was as if the apartment, Jack and Ann, and their strangely hypnotized intruder had all ceased to exist. He carried the leather-covered double scroll over to the bed, and carefully propped it up against it, so that it was almost vertical. Then he stood back and looked at it.

  "This," he said, "has been lost since my people left the Valrein Worlds in the middle of the Old Federation." He turned a very serious face to Jack. "The symbolism of the Shanteliar and the other things that were lost with it are still remembered. They are the core of what makes us who we are. If I could bring this back to the Archipopulos on Derolos, I would be the hero of my people." He looked at the Shanteliar for a long time. When he turned back to Jack and Ann, his face was more than grim, it was also exultant. "Do you really have the rest of the Reliquiture?"

  "We do," Jack said. "As art objects, they are probably worth more than the Leaves."

  "But you don't want the Leaves because of their artistic value," Djentsin said, "or because of the money you might gain from their sale. Do you? Neither do I want this and the rest of the Reliquiture because of their monetary value. I think you understand me. I don't need money. My present occupation provides me with more than I could spend in a lifetime—unless I learn some new vices. But this—" And again he gazed at the twin scrolls of the Shanteliar, with their stave-ends like miniature crowns. "If I can restore the Reliquiture, I will become the hero of my people, and more than that no man could ask." He took a deep breath and turned to face Jack and Ann again.

  Ann went around to the other side of the bed and picked up the Leaf. This time Djentsin didn't object. She held it up to him, until he took notice. "Fair trade?"

  "I feel like I'm cheating you," Djentsin said. There was an odd, wry smile on his face.

  "Not at all," Jack said. "The Shanteliar and the other things are worth only money to me, the Leaves only money to you. Neither one of us will lose on this deal."

  "That is for sure," Djentsin said. His smile was broad, but there was fear somewhere underneath his composure. He could hardly breathe. "It so very seldom works out that way. But reassure me, what more do you have?"

  "There is a kind of cloak," Ann said, "with a heavy collar but no hood, though it looks as though there should have been one." Djentsin just stared at her. "Then there are two staffs,
one like a walking stick but very crooked, with what looks like odd chunks of iron embedded in it, and the other more than two meters tall, also crooked and seemingly wrapped in varin thread or silk." Djentsin's face became absolutely blank.

  "There's a large goblet," Jack said. "I think it's made of silver, or maybe platinum since it hasn't tarnished, narrower at the lip than in the body, and a large platter kind of thing with gems around the outer edge, and a small table with what looks like solid ivory legs, inlayed with a geometric pattern I don't recognize."

  "That's it," Djentsin said. His breathing was heavy, his smile wolfish. "That's the full Reliquiture. I can hardly believe that it's true."

  "And you?" Ann asked. "How many Leaves do you have?"

  "Twelve more." His breath was a pant. "That's all there were."

  "That's right," Jack said. "Where shall we make the trade?"

  It took Djentsin a moment to respond. "Not here," he said at last, "I was just being cautious. Do you know Total Foam?"

  "I've been there," Jack said.

  "Fine. It will take me at least two quarters to get the rest of the Leaves and get there."

  "We might need a bit more time than that," Ann said. "The rest of the Reliquiture are still—where they've been all this time. Say three quarters of a standard year?"

  "All right," Djentsin said. "That will give me time to put the Shanteliar in a safe place, where the senechals can find it if I don't get back. I'll meet you at the Chessi Morphica Hotel, you know where that is?"

  "That's where I stayed," Jack said.

  "Excellent. In twenty-seven decads then."

  2

  "Wait a minute," Ann said. Her words brought them all back to the present. Jack glanced at her, then followed her staring eyes to the far side of the bedroom. It should have been dark. Instead, a comcon screen was glowing. Djentsin looked too.

  "How long has that been on?" Jack said. He started to walk toward it.

  "I don't know," Ann said as she dropped the Leaf into Jack's case. "It was on when I looked up."

  "Some of his friends?" Djentsin asked, gesturing to the still immobile intruder.

  "We should be so lucky," Jack said, "but it doesn't fit in with his mode of entry." He stopped halfway to the comcon. He didn't want its camera, if it were on, to pick up his face.

  "Let's assume it's the cops," Ann said in a low voice. "Which means they knew somebody would be here tonight." She looked at Djentsin, but his face betrayed no guilt, only anxiety.

  "Shall we just wait at the hotel?" Jack asked Djentsin.

  "I'll be there before you. I'll be visible—for someone like you."

  "Then let's get out of here," Ann said, and even as she spoke they could hear the distant echoes of footsteps coming from the shops area at the center of the tower—heavy, mechanical foot­steps that could only be made by troopers wearing battle armor.

  "Holy shit," Jack whispered. He strode to where his gun belt was lying and hurriedly picked it up and put it on.

  Djentsin picked up the Shanteliar and lugged it to a side door. "Have you got a way out?" he asked in a hoarse whisper from the doorway.

  "We can make it," Jack said as he closed up his case.

  "I'll see you there, then," Djentsin said, and hefted the dou­ble scroll out the door. A moment later, over the sound of the approaching troopers, Jack could hear the faint snick of a hatch closing, and almost immediatly the subtle hum of a gravity drive coming on. The window on that side of the bedroom brightened, as if a vehicle were pulling away from another win­dow or a hole in the wall.

  "What are we going to do?" Ann whispered. The sounds of the troopers—and the clank of some kind of automated ma­chinery—were getting nearer. The steps did not hesitate or turn aside to check out alternate routes. The cops knew exactly where they were going. "Shall we follow Djentsin?"

  "That's probably the first place they'll look," Jack said. He went to their uninvited visitor and gently took the dragongem from his hand. For a moment the man stood as he had, but even as they left the bedroom by the way they had come, he began to awaken from the trance.

  They hurried up the hall toward the sound of the approaching troopers and into the living room. They could even hear mut­tered voices now, and see reflected lights coming up the outer corridor. Quickly, and carefully, they went out the broken main window onto a narrow ledge on the outer side of the city tower. Jack led the way along the ledge, as broad as his foot was long, away from the window to a projecting spine.

  From where they clung they could see the room brightening, then lights flashing around inside. The troopers had been closer than Jack had thought. He worked his way around the spine, which wasn't easy with the heavy case he was carrying. Ann followed close behind. Then they heard shouts coming from the apartment they had just left. One voice was unmistakably that of their surprise intruder. There were shots, then a blaster bolt that blew out a whole section of the wall into the night. After that, a hesitation, then more shots, then silence.

  Then the lights inside began to move again, and they could hear the heavy steps of the troopers. The projecting spine of­fered some protection, but if anybody leaned out the window or the new hole in the wall and looked in their direction, they would be easily seen.

  They crept along the ledge, away from the apartment, to a recessed section of the wall. The windows all along the inner face were intact, and never meant to open against the reduced atmospheric pressure at this height. But there was decorative work on the inside comers of the recess, not much, but enough to let them slowly climb down several floors toward a broader ledge.

  Even as they went they could hear voices coming from up above. Most were muffled and unintelligible, but one came clearly. "There's nobody out here, he must have had a flier." He was answered by someone within, then started to say something more, but the voice was drowned out by the whine of vehicles landing on the roof of the penthouse.

  "That wasn't just a casual search," Ann said as she joined Jack on the half-meter ledge.

  "It's either us or Djentsin," Jack said. He leaned out over the edge and looked down. The wall was smooth there, but at the far end of the ledge was another column of decorative work. "Maybe we can find another broken window."

  They went to the decorative column and started down. The descent here was trickier, and the next ledge was-only five floors lower. Below this was a two-hundred floor drop to a roof. Jack held Ann as she leaned out to scan the walls to either side.

  "Nothing," she said, "unless we want to go back." She looked up. The dim reflections of rotating red and blue lights revealed the continued presence of the police vehicles.

  The sky off in the east was no longer a dead flat black. Beyond the lights of the tower cities nearby were the first signs of approaching dawn. The near silence of the night air was no longer perfect either-—distant traffic traveling between lit cities could now be heard, and within another hour or so there would be plenty of air traffic around this abandoned city. Directly across from them, only two kilometers away, was a tower fully lit. Even at that distance, in the upcoming dawn, they could be too easily seen if anybody happened to look out while they were moving.

  "I hate to do it," Jack said, "but I don't see any other way."

  "It's what we brought them for," Ann reminded him.

  Jack carefully crouched down on the projecting ledge and set down the case between him and Ann. There wasn't much room on the ledge, and it took both of them to keep the case in place while Jack undid first one set of latches, then the inner set, and at last the four security panels. As it was, he couldn't open it all the way.

  He reached inside, his arm going in up to the shoulder though the case was only twenty centimeters thick. He groped around for a moment, then pulled out a cumbersome thing that looked like part of a floater engine, fitted with straps and harness. Ann took it from him, and rested it on the ledge behind her but had to hold it with one hand to keep it from falling. With the other hand she kept a firm and stea
dying grip on the case while Jack reached in again and brought out another similar device. With one hand he then closed up the case again, until he could set it safely down on the ledge.

  The objects were heavy. Their weight had been partially compensated for by nullifiers built into Jack's case. Now Jack and Ann had to bear the full weight, and it was tricky getting them up onto their backs and securely strapped in place while maintaining their balance on the ledge. The harness buckled in front, where there was a set of jury-rigged controls with trailing wires that ran over the shoulder to the devices on their backs. What looked liked parts of floater engines were in fact the scav­enged parts of floater engines, the floater plates themselves, refitted to work along the long axis, and with minimal power provided by batteries.

  Jack turned his on. There was a faint hum and he felt his weight drop to about ten percent of normal. "I wasn't sure it would work this high up," he said. Floater coils were designed to neutralize large masses close to the ground. Fliers and aircars used other means to gain altitude. But Jack had never intended to fly with these things. Ann switched hers on too.

  They turned to face the wall and, holding the case between them to share its weight and to keep them from getting sepa­rated, they stepped backward off the ledge and started falling down the side of the wall. Below the first roof was another drop of twenty floors, which ended on a narrow ledge with overlook­ing windows. One of these had been broken out, and rather than continue their descent outside in the first light of dawn, they went in.

  Beyond the broken window was what had probably been a private apartment, though little enough of what it had once contained remained intact. As soon as they were safely inside they removed their floater packs and put them back in the case. Ann couldn't help but glance at the comcon screen against the wall. It was smashed.

  From the apartment they felt their way along dark corridors, not to the lift shaft by which they had come up, which would be watched by the police, but to a different set of lifts far on the other side of the city tower. There were no guards there.