Phan laughed, followed Shaz into the building, and went in search of a bath.
The inside of the curtained four-wheeled hearse was scrupulously clean, but Rebo didn’t like the notion of riding in the same vehicle that had been used to transport hundreds of dead bodies, and he fervently hoped that he would still be alive at the conclusion of his journey. Though still tired, the runner felt better in the wake of a two-hour nap, even though it was oppressively hot in the back of the wagon. The hard-faced nun who was in charge of the hearse whistled to her team as she guided them around a corner. The wagon had only a minimal suspension, and the runner bounced up into the air each time the iron-shod wheels dropped into each pothole only to be jerked out again. But, unpleasant though the tour of Pohua was, examining the city from the back of a hearse was better than making the same journey on foot. Especially since Tepho’s metal men were out looking for him.
The objective of the reconnaissance was to take a look at Techno Society headquarters with an eye toward breaking in and using the star gate concealed within. No small task in the best of circumstances but especially iffy without the element of surprise and Hoggles to back him up. Still, the possibility existed, and was therefore worthy of consideration. Especially since Sogol said that while she could “sense” the presence of a gate seed in Pohua, the artifact was bound to be under lock and key and diffi?cult to get at. But as the wagon approached Techno Society headquarters, any hope of breaking into the building was crushed. As Rebo peered out through the dusty curtains he saw that a force of metal men had been stationed out front along with one of Tepho’s raptors. The machine’s energy weapons tracked the hearse as it rolled past.
And it was then, as the runner eyeballed the building’s defenses, that he saw Phan walk toward the entrance with a combat variant at her side. Then the scene was gone as an old man bowed to the body in the hearse and the wagon rattled through a drainage ditch. Once the ride smoothed out, the runner rolled over to stare up at the canopy. Six or seven insects buzzed around over his head. There might be some way to get off Haafa, the runner thought to himself—but it sure as hell wouldn’t be through Techno Society headquarters. The nun whistled, the angens plodded down a side street, and the afternoon sun scorched the sky.
The lamp, which was not fueled by oil, or any known source of power for that matter, had burned day and night for the entire three-hundred-plus years since a long-dead member of the Alzani clan had purchased the object more than a thousand miles south of Pohua. And, because the merchant family had prospered during the years since, many members of the family, including the current patriarch, Ubri Alzani, had come to believe that the clan’s material well-being was somehow linked to the lamp and its seemingly inexhaustible source of power. Now, as Alzani and his number three son sat at the ancient counting table totaling the week’s profi?ts, light from the lamp cast a soft glow over stacks of gleaming coins and threw black silhouettes onto the wall behind them. Both men had black hair, aquiline noses, and long, narrow faces. A breeze found its way in through open double doors to stir the gauzy curtains and cool the room’s interior. The abacus made a steady clack, clack, clack sound as the younger Alzani fl?icked beads along their various wires, and distant laughter could be heard as a fl?ock of children chased each other down long, empty halls.
Perhaps, had the two men been paying more attention, they might have detected other sounds as well. Like the soft thump as someone vaulted over the low wall that defi?ned the space just outside the double doors, the subtle rasp of steel as a sword left its scabbard, and the gentle rustle of Norr’s clothing as the sensitive positioned herself just outside the counting room.
But before Norr entered the room, it was important to make sure that the object she sought was actually there. With that in mind, the sensitive shifted the sword to her left hand and elevated her right hand so that Sogol could see into the room as well. Then, having pulled the serpentlike AI back beside her ear, she listened to the construct speak. “The object you want is sitting in the middle of the table,” One-Two whispered urgently. “Somebody fi?gured out a way to tap the power core—and turned the gate seed into a lamp.”
The sensitive shifted the sword back into her right hand, peered into the room, and stared at the lamp. The shade was yellowed with age, and the lower edge wore a dark red fringe. Below that, suspended within a wrought- iron framework, a shiny sphere could be seen. There was a sudden stirring inside the room as coins were added to already bulging leather bags, and the men stood, ready to call it a night. Fearful that the merchants would take the lamp with them when they left, Norr stepped through the door and placed her left index fi?nger against her lips. Both men froze as the woman appeared, but only for a moment, as the younger of the two made a move toward the pull cord that dangled nearby. But the sensitive was fast. Three quick strides and a jump carried her up onto the surface of the table. Coins scattered as Norr turned, the blade fl?ashed, and the pull cord parted. Then, having spun full circle, the variant paused. The razor-sharp edge was in contact with Ubri Alzani’s throat. The younger man stood by the door. “If you run, he dies,” Norr told the younger man emotionlessly.
“The choice is up to you.”
The sensitive saw emotions swirl as the son battled temptation. It would have been easy to run and thereby receive his portion of the family business years early, but the better part of him won out. The younger man held both hands palm out. “Take the money. . . . I will do as you say.”
“Good,” Norr replied equably. “Except that I don’t want your money . . . Both of you—back into the corner.”
“What then?” Ubri Alzani wanted to know, as he and his son backed away.
“The lamp,” Norr answered, as she bent her knees to the point where she could grab the object. “All I want is the lamp.”
“No!” the patriarch objected. “Please! I beg of you! Not the lamp. . . . Take the money. All of it. I promise no one will follow.”
“I’m sorry,” the sensitive replied sincerely, “but it’s the lamp that I need. Now, assuming that you want to keep your heads on your shoulders, stay right where you are.”
There was a gentle thump as the variant landed on fl?oor, the curtains billowed, and Norr was gone.
No more than two seconds elapsed before the two men sprang into action. Ubri drew a curved dagger and circled the table, intent on following the thief through the double doors, while his son jumped up to grab what remained of the pull cord. Bells rang in a distant part of the house, additional guards poured out of the servants’ quarters, and those who were on duty ran every which way.
Meanwhile Norr, who was dressed all in black, retraced the path followed earlier. An almost impossible feat for anyone other than a sensitive, who could “see” the psychic energy emitted by the Alzani family’s guards even in complete darkness should that be necessary. But thanks to the fact that one of the planet’s two moons had broken company with the horizon, there was more light than there had been before.
That worked two ways of course, as became apparent when a sharp-eyed youth spotted what looked like a swiftly moving shadow and fi?red his muzzle-loader. A long red fl?ame stabbed the night, a loud bang reverberated between the compound’s protective walls, and the sensitive heard something buzz past her head as she made a mad dash toward the still-dangling rope. That was when Rebo, who had been waiting outside the compound, could fi?nally spring into action. It had taken Norr more than an hour to convince the runner that she was the right person to enter the walled complex and abscond with the gate seed. And now, as he felt her tug on the other end of the
