The man went facedown and remained in that position as the runner stepped over his prostrate body, turned a corner, and entered a long hallway. A woman appeared, as if to see what had caused all of the ruckus, and went facedown when Rebo ordered her to do so. Hoggles, war hammer at the ready, followed behind.
Each time Norr came across one of the staff members, she ordered them to keep their heads down, placed a bony knee in the smalls of their backs, and proceeded to bind both wrists and ankles with precut lengths of cord. The technos would be able to free themselves eventually—but the variant knew it wouldn’t matter once she and her companions had control of the gate.
In the meantime, Rebo was making good progress. So much progress that the runner was beginning to believe that the plan to hijack the gate might actually work. Logos, by contrast, was not so sanguine. A gate was present, that much was certain, but assuming the data now fl?ooding in through his sensors were correct, the power accumulators were off-line! And the gate wouldn’t be operational without them.
But it was too late to cancel the raid, as Rebo ordered another functionary to the fl?oor, gave thanks for the fact that none of the technos had chosen to put up a fi?ght, and entered the room that provided access to the decontamination chamber. That was when the runner saw the chair and the half-naked woman who had been tied to it. She sat slumped against her bonds, a long rope of bloody drool hanging from her mouth, seemingly unconscious.
The runner grabbed a fi?stful of silky black hair, pulled the norm’s head back, and saw that she’d been beaten. One eye was swollen shut, her upper lip was split open, and her left cheek was purple. Du Phan looked up at Rebo through the eye that still worked, gave thanks for the fact that the runner was on time, and decided that he was handsome in an unshaven sort of way. That seemed like a good time to groan, partly for effect, but mostly because her face hurt. Rebo looked down into the woman’s bloodied face, wondered what she’d done to deserve such treatment, and let her head fall forward again. That was when he caught sight of the tattoos on her shoulders. Hoggles was present by then, as was Norr, and both were staring at Phan when Logos spoke. His voice was stern. “The gate is off-line! We need to get out of here—and I mean now.”
It didn’t seem fair, not after all they had done to break in, but there was no other option. Not if the AI was correct about the gate—and Rebo had no reason to doubt that he was. “Damn,” the runner said regretfully, “the techno freaks are going to be pissed.”
“That’s for sure,” Hoggles agreed fervently. “Come on . . . Let’s go.”
“In a minute,” the runner promised, as he produced a folding knife and fl?icked it open. “We’re taking the woman with us.”
Norr looked on as Rebo began to cut Phan free. Now, when it was too late to do any good, the dream came fl? ooding back. She had seen the room and the bloodied face before. And, for reasons she wasn’t sure of, the variant knew that the woman in front of her was evil. “I think you should leave her,” the sensitive suggested emphatically. “She’ll slow us down.”
“That’s right!” Logos interjected shrilly. “Leave the woman where she is! We have no need for her.”
The runner heard the words but continued to saw at one of two ropes that crisscrossed Phan’s naked chest. The male part of him couldn’t help but take note of the fact that the woman in question had shapely breasts. The whip marks were plain to see. “Normally I would agree,” Rebo replied evenly, “but she’s a runner.”
The sensitive frowned. “A runner? How can you tell?”
“Take a look at her back,” Rebo replied as a piece of rope fell away. “See those tattoos? Each one represents a successful run. Okay, Bo . . . Can you carry her? Thanks.” Then, with Rebo leading the way, the four of them, fi?ve counting the semiconscious woman who had been slung over the heavy’s shoulder, exited the building. There was no resistance. Shaz, who had stationed his team in the passageway that ran between Techno Society headquarters and rug merchant next door, watched them leave. He wasn’t looking forward to the long trek that lay ahead, but that couldn’t be helped, and Phan would be there to protect Logos from harm. It was a good plan, one worthy of Tepho himself, and Shaz was confi?dent of success as he led Dyson and a small band of heavily robed androids out into the icy rain.
The animals snorted, and the cart creaked as the travelers followed the narrow road down out of the hills and onto the plain beyond. The area was far too rocky for farming, which meant that what few huts there were belonged to lonely angen herders or antitechnic hermits. Once on level ground, the ancient thoroughfare ran straight as an arrow toward the point where the light gray sky met the eastern horizon. Winter had arrived, frost glazed any rock not directly exposed to the hazy sun, and cold air nipped at their faces as Rebo, Norr, Hoggles, and the woman named Phan put the last of the hills behind them.
Three days had passed since the raid on Techno Society headquarters, and a great deal had changed. Having purchased a large quantity of supplies in the market, plus a twowheeled cart to carry them in, the group left New Wimmura during the cover of darkness. The plan was to make the long trek to the city of Feda, where the original foursome intended to access the local star gate or lift on the next ship. But that was a couple of months away. In the meantime there was a potentially hostile environment to deal with—
not to mention a shift in the way members of the group related to each other. And, as Norr and Hoggles sat side by side on the cart’s bench-style seat, the cause of that change could be seen riding stirrup to stirrup with Rebo, chatting about who knew what. Runs probably, since both were members of the runner’s guild, or were they?
According to Phan she had been hired to bring a small techno artifact to a wealthy merchant who lived in New Wimmura, a medical device, if the runner’s suspicions were correct, that could be used to relieve the headaches that plagued his wife. But Phan arrived too late. The woman was dead and buried by the time Phan landed, the merchant was no longer willing to bear the risk of owning a proscribed object, and the runner was left holding the bag. So, being in need of funds to live on, and with no likely customer other than the Techno Society, Phan approached them. But, rather than purchase the object as she hoped, they took the runner prisoner in hopes of learning more about the artifact and its origins. And that’s where Phan had been, locked in a dark room, when the shuttle landed and lifted again. Fortunately for her, or so Phan claimed, Rebo, Norr, and Hoggles chose to invade Techno Society headquarters while she was being tortured. Otherwise, they might never have been aware of her. That’s what the woman claimed anyway, but the dull colors that ebbed and fl?owed around the runner suggested that she was lying. Of course no one could see that except Norr, which meant there was no way to substantiate her suspicions, leaving the sensitive feeling frustrated.
The cart lurched as the team of two draft animals pulled the right wheel up over one of many ridges in the ancient pavement. The sensitive swayed and made a grab for her armrest, as the boxy conveyance rolled onto a smooth section of road. Then, with Hoggles handling the reins, Norr pulled the gray woolen cloak around her shoulders. There were two problems to contend with. The fi?rst problem was Phan herself, meaning the possibility that the runner was lying, and the second problem was the way Norr felt about the other woman. What was her motivation anyway? A legitimate concern regarding Phan’s veracity? Or just a case of plain old jealousy?
Not that the sensitive had any rights where Rebo was concerned, because even though she felt sure the runner
