Ghost of the Well of Souls

O’Leary agreed. “And since one’s underwater, deep under, it’s not something even old Jules can handle. And they still don’t know where the last piece is. There’s hope yet.”

She looked up at O’Leary. “You know this—this thief?”

“Oh, I know him well. He’s one of a kind, thank God, or at least one of a kind in a long generation. And he knows me, and Josich, and all the rest of us. Even you, Jaysu, before he even met you.”

“How is that possible?”

“In a strange way, he helped to create you, and Ming and Ari, and Core as well.”

She didn’t understand it and decided it was beyond her. “And now he will give this piece to this evil one?”

“Somehow, I don’t think so,” O’Leary told her. “We’ve got two evil geniuses, which is one more than anyone should have to cope with, and they’re both playing for keeps. The new Jules won’t be a lacky to Josich. No, this game’s still got a long time to run yet, and there are other factors we still don’t know. But it doesn’t alter one major fact, and that is—whether Josich or Jules Wallinchky winds up with the Straight Gate, it’s the same to us.”

Har Shamish agreed. “As much as I would love to go home right now, I believe it is time for all three of us to speak directly with those above us.”

O’Leary gave the Pyron equivalent of a nod. “Yes,” he said, “I hate to give up the geographical advantage, but we all must go see Core.”

Kalinda

The journey through Kalinda was not the triumph Ari and Ming had hoped it might be. They were kept on a fairly short leash and used as apologists for allowing the force through. They were, however, happy to see that home hadn’t yet become a Chalidang colony, no matter what the threats. Topside, Kalindan pilots, aided by computer contact with the information base below, took complete control of the big Jerminin ship. A large military presence was not felt to be needed here; Kalindan army personnel shadowed from below, and could quickly sink the vessel if they didn’t continue to receive the correct codes every quarter hour from the pilot and her staff.

As the force moved toward Jinkivar and the Zone Gate, however, General Mochida was allowed communications to and from his embassy in Zone via the messenger system, and with high-tech communications, this was fairly quick.

“At least we know what Jeremiah Wong Kincaid actually is now, and that will help quite a bit,” he told his aides.

“Yes, sir?” the colonel responded, interested.

“He’s a Zazalof. They are from one of the deformed hexes along the Equatorial Barrier. They’re not well- known, nor much more sociable than the Sanafe, but they were always in the books. It’s just that so few had been seen in modern times, or at least known to have been seen, that it was difficult to match him up. Makes sense, though.”

“Sir?”

“They’re metamorphs. They can scratch you, take some sample of skin or even excrement, and use the cellular chemistry inside that makes you who and what you are to create an apparent duplicate of you. It takes them about three days to do it, and the size must be close, that sort of thing, but they can do it, and maintain it for another couple of days. Long enough to get into or out of a good many areas and do nasty business. They are much more dangerous when they’re simply trying to blend with existing inanimate objects, like a wall, or a piece of that coral back there, or something like that. Since the look and feel is the same, they can do this in a relatively short time and wait until prey goes by. That’s all he did in the Zone tunnel. In most of the other cases, he’s masqueraded, but I’ve noted that he’s never attempted the masquerade of a person of any race in a high-tech environment, only in semi-and nontech hexes. I think that’s because it’s only a surface duplication; sophisticated security devices and, of course, passwords and the like, are threatening. He’s dangerous, but he’s manageable.”

“Why haven’t we heard of these people before?” the colonel asked him. “I mean, surely we cross-checked in the databases and the like.”

“True, but we were limited by our own vision, which was of the monstrous silicatelike creature he’s allowed us to see. Also, the average Zazalof isn’t aggressive; they simply wait, and whatever they need comes by. They don’t fight each other and they don’t fight outside their hex. Some sort of religion thing. So, we simply didn’t think of them. Now we know, though. I’m afraid our captain got their abilities but still hadn’t got religion. Now that we know what he is, perhaps we can put the fear of God into him after all.”

“But what would we use to kill him?”

“Energy. Fry him. Full power with a rifle, even an energy pistol at close range, electrocution, you name it. He’s more vulnerable on the surface since, like all carbon-based life-forms, he’s mostly made up of water, even as you and I are. In air, put a flammable on him and set him on fire and that’s the end of him. Not something we can do, but it’s already on the ‘to do’ list of our friends and allies.”

The colonel wriggled his secondary long tentacle in the Chalidang equivalent of a nod. “Any news on the Quislon front?”

“Not yet. We may not know until we get to Zone, if then. I certainly hope that it was successful.”

Ari and Ming took all of this in, but could do nothing. If Kincaid was what they said, he was certainly doubly dangerous and couldn’t complain that the Well computer hadn’t given him the appropriate form for his business. Still, it did little to help them.

They were, however, the object of diplomatic unease when a Kalindan army officer approached and demanded to speak to the Kalindan with them, and alone. At first the General was disinclined to do so, but in the end he remembered where he was, looked at the loaded guns all around pointed at him and his men, and allowed it, but warned them to say nothing, or else.

They swam cautiously up to the officer. “Yes, what is it?” Ming asked her.

“I have a message.”

“Yes?”

“Core sends her best and apologizes for putting you in this situation, but it was necessary. She wants you to remain with them until Zone, after which you will be met and taken to the Kalindan embassy, no matter what the Chalidangers say or protest.”

They thought a moment, even argued a bit, but finally replied, “We can’t. They’ve got us on a drug of some kind.”

“Yes, we know. It will be taken care of. But you must reach the embassy. Core believes the showdown and finish of this will happen within three days. All of your compatriots are gathering. You must be there and report. You must trust that we can handle your personal problem.”

They gave no promises, but rejoined the Chalidangers, still wondering how much nerve they really had.

The General, of course, demanded to know exactly what was said.

“They said they didn’t care what our problems were, that we were to report immediately to our embassy. They also said they believed this whole matter would come to a head within three more days. Nothing more. What do you expect? They knew we’d have to tell you.”

The General thought it over. “Well, why not? I don’t think it will matter much in the end.”

They were astonished. “You mean that?”

“For now. But we will meet again. Count on it. And very, very soon.”

South Zone