*****
I spent a little time simply lying there and daydreaming about fun times I’d had with Electra: hanging out with our friends, going on dates, and so on. We hadn’t been broken up for very long — less than a day, in fact, at the point in time when I’d come to Permovren with Rune — but it felt much longer.
I was still reflecting on my relationship with Electra (and pondering if she was regretting dumping me) when an unusual sound reached my ears. It was something like twigs being snapped and put me in mind of wood crackling in a campfire.
At the thought of a blaze, I immediately jumped up from the bed. The sound seemed to be coming from the sitting room of my apartment, so I shifted into super speed and dashed there immediately.
Much to my relief, nothing was on fire. Or, more specifically, none of the furniture was on fire. As I looked around, however, I did detect the source of the crackling: one of the walls was burning.
Fire, of course, is almost universally recognized as a hazard. Thus, I was about to shout for help when I noticed two things. First, the fire on the wall wasn’t spreading; it seemed confined to a relatively small area. The second thing that caught my attention was that the conflagration on the wall wasn’t just a single blaze. From what I could see, it consisted of numerous flames that seemed to be arranged in a pattern.
All of a sudden, the flames began to die down in a unified fashion, and I stared in surprise at what was revealed as they began disappearing.
Without taking my eyes off the wall, I reached out telepathically for Rune and located him in the main part of our suite.
<Rune!> I bellowed telepathically. <You better get in here!>
Rather than acknowledge the message, he simply appeared in my apartment, materializing next to me.
“What is it?” he asked anxiously.
Rather than answer, I pointed at the wall where the fire had been. The flames were gone now, but had left behind scorched and smoldering marks that were easily identifiable.
They were words, and they formed a chilling message:
STAY OUT OF MY WAY
Chapter 24
Rune was able to repair the wall with a wave of his hand. Afterward, we reconvened in the living room of our suite. (Endow had apparently left shortly after I went to my room.)
The scorched statement had clearly been a warning, and we didn’t have to guess who it was from. Moreover, in addition to the words actually etched on it, the wall also conveyed another message: the killer wasn’t done.
“So why now?” I asked. “Why try to warn me off now instead of earlier? He could have done it before that first meeting with the Incarnates, before I went off exploring, before the reconstruction of Gamma’s murder. Why now?”
Rune pondered for a moment. “Maybe you did something to tick him off.”
“Or maybe it’s not something I did,” I countered. “Maybe it’s something I’m going to do.”
Rune raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”
“What was next on my to-do list?” I asked.
“Talking to the laamuffals.”
“And is it safe to assume you had to clear that with their bosses?”
“Yeah,” Rune stated with a nod.
“So after it becomes known that I want to speak to laamuffals, I get a flaming message on my walls.”
Rune frowned. “So you’re implying that there’s something about the laamuffals that the killer doesn’t want you to know.”
“I’m saying that I need to speak to the help as soon as possible.”
Chapter 25
Pinion’s laamuffal was the first one who I spoke with. Much to my surprise, he wasn’t human; he was a steam-powered robot who stood about six-foot-six in height and went by the name Gearbox.
We met in a small conference room that Rune had designated for interview purposes. Gearbox — who preferred to stand while I sat — gave straightforward responses to my questions.
“Was Pinion involved in Gamma’s murder?” I asked, dismissing with any pleasantries.
“Not to the extent that I am aware,” Gearbox responded.
“Would you tell me if he were?”
“I am programmed to be loyal to Pinion.”
“So does that mean you wouldn’t?”
“It means that I would abide by his wishes. If he were involved in the murder and wished it known, I would speak to that effect. If he were involved and wished it kept secret, I would not divulge the information.”
“What if he were involved but did not make his wishes known in that regard?”
“I would seek his opinion.”
I pondered for a moment. “How much free will are you granted?”
“I am not restricted in what I may do by either word or deed. However, if you are asking if I may commit murder, I am imbued with a strict moral code that includes an abhorrence of violence toward living creatures. However, I may act in any manner necessary to protect innocent life.”
“So you can kill if you so desire?”
“Desire indicates a want or yearning on my part,” Gearbox replied. “I do not have such in regard to violence. But to answer your question — yes, I can kill.”
“Were you involved in Gamma’s murder?”
“I was not.”
“Do you know anyone who was?”
“I do not have definitive information in that regard.”
“Do you have suspicions?”
“Yes — anyone who stood to gain from her death.”
The rest of my conversation with Gearbox went in much the same manner. The upshot of our conversation was that he had built-in loyalty to Pinion, and he did not know who was involved in Gamma’s death. As to Cerek, Gearbox didn’t know what had become of him, but described him as utterly devoted to Gamma and incapable of anything that would cause her harm.
I received similar responses when I spoke to Konstantin — Reverb’s laamuffal. A few inches taller than me and built like a weightlifter, he dressed in what I would call a Cossack style, including a kaftan worn over a
