Flinx Transcendent (29 page)

“You're not going to cry, are you?” Eyeing his young friend, Tse-Mallory looked suddenly alarmed. “Cry after the threat has been dealt with, weep once the danger has passed—but not now.”

Flinx rubbed at his right eye. Or maybe he hit himself. In any event, no tears were shed. “It's just that I'm so glad to see you all again.” Reaching over, he put an arm around Clarity and drew her to him. Forced together, the two flying snakes slithered petulantly in opposite directions in search of more individual space.

“This time there'll be no delay, no mistakes.” Tse-Mallory rose from his seat. Though comfortable in the underground park, which was designed to accommodate thranx, he much preferred the warm sunshine of Nur's surface. “Tru and I can leave immediately.” He turned his attention to Clarity. “What about you? Have you made any arrangements?”

“Some, yes, but I can't just vanish into the ether like you two. I need a little time to do it right.” Disdaining Flinx's proffered hand, she rose easily to her feet. “There are people who would miss me and file reports if I simply disappeared.”

His characteristic self-control notwithstanding, Flinx's expression darkened ever so slightly. “Tambrogh Barryn, for example?”

She made a face at him. “Don't be a fool. I have to alert and prepare medical personnel who've worked on my case, coworkers at Ulricam, casual friends, and others.” She eyed Tse-Mallory. “We're not all of us
famous, independently wealthy scientists, philosophs, or interstellar vagabonds who can just take off on a moment's notice to go gallivanting around the galaxy.”

“I do not ‘gallivant,’” Truzenzuzex commented primly. “I plan in haste.”

Tse-Mallory smiled considerately. “Will a couple of days be sufficient for you to get your affairs in order?” When she nodded, he turned to Flinx. “And you?”

Flinx did not have to think. He had worked through departure procedures many times, on many worlds. “There are supplies and provisions the
Teacher
can't synthesize. There's no telling where we're going or how long we'll be gone. It would be good to be able to start the search again knowing the ship is fully prepared.”

Instead of replying, Tse-Mallory glanced over at his companion. “Tru?”

The thranx gestured impatiently. “Humans invariably find a way to rationalize delay. But I suppose our young friend's logic is sound. Very well then. A couple of days. I will use the time until our departure to compose and plant certain situation-sensitive messages with professional acquaintances.”

“What kind of messages?” Flinx asked curiously.

The thranx philosoph's great golden eyes rose to regard him impassively. “The kind that might prove useful to friends and colleagues in the event we don't come back.”

Effrom was out of breath by the time he reached the rendezvous. It was out in the open, of course, the better to ensure both anonymity and privacy. As soon as he showed himself beside the public healthirl, the others began to steadily gravitate in his direction. As they did so, like the several dozen other citizens caught up in the healthirl's whirl, Effrom and his party breathed deeply of the supervised whirlwind's heady atmospheric cocktail. Today's broad-spectrum anti-retroviral was infused with the aroma of Terran peach. Effrom took care to inhale the respiratory prophylactic, though improving his health was not the reason for his visit.

Tuoela, Ambreleon, and the others were waiting for him inside the slow-speed domesticated cyclone. Drifting away from the other citizens,
they collected in a small group near the center of the health-enhancing storm. There they could hear one another clearly while reasonably confident no one else could eavesdrop on their conversation, either in person or electronically.

“We received your alert.” Tuoela ran a small business that supplied decorations imported from different worlds for everything from birthdays to ceremonial government dinners. On any of the capital's streets she would not have drawn a second look from the most suspicious policeman or chary government operative. Nor would any of her companions in the present circle. Their zealous ordinariness ensured their continued anonymity.

“Everyone is excited.” Canodoce was only slightly younger than the woman floating next to him. “We've waited and hoped for this. You can really confirm?”

Though he was no less excited than his comrades, Effrom controlled his emotions. “The one who endangers the Purity has indeed returned. I have seen him myself on multiple occasions. There is no mistaking his identity.” He breathed deeply of the invigorating, health-giving hurricane. “As if further authentication were required, the same small flying creature accompanies him.”

Ambreleon's expression darkened. “That's the kind of verification I could do without.” Reaching up, he touched the right side of his neck. Surgery had completely erased the damage he had suffered during the fight at the shuttleport, but no physician or medtech could eradicate the phantom pain that continued to haunt him. “The flying snake kills.”

“We'll deal with it this time.” Tuoela was full of confidence. Their patience had, at last, been rewarded. “Deciding to monitor the woman's recovery was genius. Our colleagues lost track of the man almost immediately. Based on what was known and could subsequently be learned, it was thought he might one day return to see her.” She smiled thinly. “Love is such a proficient betrayer.”

“It certainly makes it possible once again to carry out our sacred duty.” Longing for the all-inclusive great death that might follow his own, Canodoce verged on the ecstatic. “We can now act to preserve the Purity that is to come.”

“In order to do so we must separate the tall meddler from his small protector,” Tuoela pointed out.

“‘Protectors,’” an apologetic Effrom corrected her. “The others who were at the shuttleport and helped provide the cover that allowed him to get away have also returned.”

Tuoela was not pleased. “More complications. Still, we will prevail.” Squinting into the roaring wind of the rejuvenating airstream, she regarded her friends and colleagues. “We have waited too long for it to be otherwise. Let it begin here and now. First, to logistics.” She turned to face middle-aged M'dbane. “While I have no more fear of dying than any of us, if possible I would prefer to live to greet the coming end. As I am sure you all would.” Murmurs of agreement greeted her assumption. “Therefore I rule out suicide attacks unless we are left with no other choice. Such an attempt would likely fail in any event.”

“Why is that?” Though bigger and stronger than any of them, Canodoce was comparatively new to the Order.

She caught his gaze. “It has been determined that the meddler can read feelings. The stronger the emotion, the easier it is for him to perceive it. Whether in isolation or a crowd, an incipient suicide would stand out sharply. To a certain extent one's emotions can be masked by medication. But while drugs can disguise feelings, they also tend to diminish skills. A proper balance must be struck.” She shifted her attention to the rest. “That much we have learned from several failed attempts to eliminate the meddler. We cannot fail again. We may never have another chance.”

“Bearing in mind our previous failed attempts to kill him, wouldn't he be exceedingly watchful now that he has returned to Nur?” Beulleu had a face that reminded others of a stranded fish, and a personality to match.

“He gives no indication of it.” Effrom felt confident in sharing his assessment. “On the several occasions I observed him, I could not see that he was taking any special precautions save for keeping the flying creature always close by. Perhaps he feels that his elderly human and thranx friends are shield enough.”

“Or more likely,” Ambreleon declared, “he remains unaware of our strength and persistence and believes we were dealt a mortal blow during the fight at the shuttleport.”

Tuoela nodded. “So much the better for us if he thinks we are all dead, disabled, or disbanded. It is entirely conceivable he cannot imagine
the depth of commitment those of us who survived have to the Order.” Muted but steadfast rumbles of affirmation rose from the congregation as she turned to a roly-poly employee of one of New Riviera's most respected research companies.

“What news of the Purity?”

“It still comes.” The man's voice was high and squeaky, as if he dwelled in a state of perpetual fear. His ruthlessness and ability were not compromised by his vocal shortcomings, nor by the fact that despite his intellectual skills he qualified as a borderline psychopath. “Continued corroboration comes from our covert contacts on Earth.” His eyes rolled heavenward. “Would that I might live to see its arrival and be drawn into the great nothingness! The meddler cannot stop it. Nothing can stop it.” In a quiet paroxysm of semireligious ecstasy he lowered his gaze and shut his deep-sunk eyes tightly. “All will be wiped clean and remade.”

“Nevertheless,” Tuoela reiterated sternly, “we of the Order are committed to ensuring that the Purity encounters nothing that could prevent or slow it from fulfilling its destiny in this small corner of the cosmos. That means removing the meddler and the enigma he represents from the scheme of possibilities.” As she addressed the gathering the fragrance of the wind whirling around them changed from peach to cupuraçu.

“This should not be so difficult, now that we have a better idea of what we are dealing with. We do not have to confront an army. Two men, two flying creatures, one woman, and one thranx. Several times we have underestimated the ability of this small group to forcibly reject absolution. It is a mistake we will not make again.”

“How do you propose to proceed?” Though Canodoce dwarfed the rotund researcher, he did not consider himself the other man's superior. Within the Order, all were equal. In death, in the Purity, they would be exactly the same. It was a soothing thought. Those who believed their mission was to prepare the way for death did not fear it.

“We must deal with them separately.” Tuoela was remembering. “When we tried to take them that day at the shuttleport they were able to concentrate their defenses and render help and support to one another. The big man and the thranx are clever, but they are old. I fear the small flying creatures more.” She nodded in M'dbane's direction. “Though it seems that very little specific information is available on
them, Olu has done some valuable research on the creatures that should aid us considerably when we confront them this time. The woman we nearly killed the first time. She presents no problem. It is the meddler himself who continues to present the real difficulty.”

“How do you plan for us to take him?” Truth be told, while helping to maintain the watch on the healing woman, Ambreleon had not given the winding up of the business much thought.

“There are a number of options, all of which will be exercised if necessary.” Tuoela's unbending confidence was an inspiration to them all. “This time nothing is being left to chance.” She smiled grimly, more she-wolf than saleswoman.

“I have even made arrangements to bring in professional help.”

It was an odd group.

Tse-Mallory noticed them as soon as they entered the shop. In the back, the two sets of simple clothing he had ordered were in the process of being soft-cast from the holo the proprietor had taken of his customer. Tse-Mallory could have come back when they were ready, but since the entire process took less than twenty minutes from customization to conclusion, he had decided to wait. To kill time, he amused himself examining, trying on, and pricing the vast assortment of accessories available for the outfits he had ordered.

The peculiar troupe that had wandered in did not look like they wanted to kill time.

Their very blandness nearly caused him to let down his guard. That was their intent, of course. A couple of matronly women; a decidedly senior citizen who flaunted his long, double-pointed beard; a chatty younger couple, and a single street singer radiating music from his headband did not at first glance appear to pose a threat to anyone or anything. What gave them away was the incongruity of their congress: one would never expect to encounter the street musician, for example, in the company of the old man, or the younger couple with the pair of matrons. Had they entered the shop separately, Tse-Mallory might never
have taken notice. But they all came in together, almost pushing to get through the single portal. As soon as they were inside, they went from the comparative silence of their collective entrance to all talking at once.

Culturally and socially it was a bit off. Just sufficiently skewed to set off internal alarms in someone like Tse-Mallory. Evincing no outward unease, he ambled toward the back of the store. Perfectly normal for someone in his situation to want to check on the progress of his order. Perfectly natural for him to step behind the counter. The member of the staff he intercepted started to say something. As she did so Tse-Mallory smiled, leaned toward her, put a finger to his lips, and whispered, “Get on the floor. Now.”

Her eyes got very wide. “Is this a robbery? We have nothing to steal except equipment and fabric.”

“I wish it were a robbery. I think it's something more. Something that doesn't involve you or your establishment.” Out of the corner of an eye he detected movement behind him. “Not that it will matter to these people. Get down or get shot.”