Gathering of the Titans: The Tol Chronicles Book 2 (38 page)

Dagyo brought the
Sir Tol
down and dropped the mooring ball into the receptacle on the ship’s mast. Then he had Tol lift them off again and repeat the mooring procedure himself.

“There,” said the gnome to Tol as they were disembarking, “You are now the second most-experienced Zifjagga pilot in the world. And the
only
one with a Zifjagga named after him.”

Tol stroked the side of the craft as though it were a pet. He didn’t really want the ride to be over, but he had a job to do and all that. He thanked Dagyo profusely and promised to give his very strongest recommendation to the EE High Commissioner...and anyone else who would listen. He also asked Dagyo in confidence if he was looking for investors. He was, so Tol gave him a bank draft for twenty thousand billmes for a stake in the new company:
AeroPram Concepts
. Dagyo was elated at having attracted his first investor, promising frequent updates and constant improvements.

Tol and Selpla returned to the Sellestra Placidum and Tol spent the remainder of the day in the suite, writing up his recommendation for a trial purchase of Zifjaggas, making it clear for conflict of interest purposes that he was also an investor in the company as a result of the success of Dagyo’s demonstration. He relaxed afterward in the heated pool, accessible directly from the suite via a private channel that could be locked from the inside via a set of remotely-operated doors when not in use. It was decidedly decadent and Tol decidedly loved it.

Elegant living notwithstanding, Tol was here for a rather risky mission: to take on a venomous asp in his own den. After checking in with Frespiolan EE via an encrypted comm link, Tol set out in a rented limousine(for appearance’s sake) for the estate known to the locals as Moonfish Manor. Tol had been reading up on Jexx and his delusions of grandeur and had decided to play along with him. Toward that end, he had brought some of the ceremonial trappings of his own knighthood.

As the limo pulled up, Tol pinned the lapel version of his Medal of Royal Merit on a simple but elegant deep blue pullover with the Crimson Garter woven into it: the ‘business casual’ attire of the Knights. He walked up to the intercom at the estate’s ornate front gate and pushed the button.

“Sir Tol-u-ol of Sebacea, Knight Protector of the Crimson Order of Tragacanth, to see Sir Jexx,” he said into the microphone, using his most cultured voice. There was a stunned silence while every camera in that part of the estate swung onto Tol and zoomed in. After a few moments a deep male voice replied.

“Sir Jexx is currently receiving visitors in the lower solarium. He will send an escort for you, Sir Knight.”

So far, so good.

Tol had brought no weapons with him, knowing that any criminal who’d made it as far as Jexx would have multiple scanners. He didn’t really need any external weapons, anyway. There were very few situations where he couldn’t either take the bad guys out with his fists or wrestle a disruptor away from one of them if he really needed it. He did have Petey, but even the most paranoid crime boss wasn’t likely to take notice of a pen. He had briefed Petey on where they were going and what to expect, so it was jamming any attempt to scan its circuitry. It appeared as a simple writing instrument; nothing more.

A half-ogre goon in a pinstriped jack met Tol at the gate. Given the temperature and humidity, Tol guessed he hadn’t been wearing that getup all day. The goon was sweating visibly and did not look at all comfortable in those clothes. Tol laughed at him inside but was careful to maintain his external air of noblesse. The hike from the front gate to the solarium was long and warm; by the time they arrived the goon was obviously broiling. When Jexx motioned his dismissal the half- ogre almost broke into a trot heading for cooler apparel.

“Welcome to my humble abode, Sir Tol-u-ol. I must admit to being taken by surprise by your social call, although none the less appreciative for the short notice.”

“Please, call me Tol. I was in the area, and I’ve heard so much about you that I thought it downright rude of me not to take the opportunity to pay you a visit. It is, after all, only proper that the chivalry maintain social contacts with one another.”

“Um, yes. Quite so. May I offer you some razzle? I have a well-stocked bar.”

“Thank you for the offer, but for the nonce I must refuse. Physic’s orders, I’m afraid.”

As he spoke, Tol was sizing up the room. Glass doors: double-paned but not particularly well made. Two entrances and a bookcase along one wall that might hide another. Three cameras and at least two wall decorations that would be ideal for concealing machicolations with snipers behind them. If he needed to take Jexx out, it could not be in here.

“I see,” replied Jexx,“Well, one can’t go around defying the orders of one’s physic, can one? Tell me, Sir Tol, what brings you to our idyllic paradise?”

“Vacation, Sir Jexx. Rest and recreation. I’ve heard about your wonderful island all my life; I figured I’d better come see it while I’m still able to get around. Not gettin’ any younger; you know how it is.”

“Ah, yes. I built this estate with the same thought in mind. I’ve been enamored of the sea since my youth.”

“You’re a sailor, then?”

“Yes, indeed. I own five sailing vessels of different sizes and configurations. I very much enjoy captaining them when I can find the time.”

The solution to Tol’s takedown location dilemma leapt out and danced a little hornpipe.

“I imagine time would be in short supply for a business executive such as yourself. I’ve done a bit of sailing, but not nearly as much as I’d like. Sadly, I live rather far from the sea, so I own no sailing vessels of my own.”

So close...

Jexx cleared his throat. “While I have quite a busy schedule, I believe that for a fellow Knight I could squeeze in a short cruise at sea, if you’re game.”

Target acquired
.

“I could scarcely pass up such a generous and noble invitation. I would be honored.”

“I will have one of my staff prepare the ship. Today we shall be sailing aboard the trabaccalo
Dez Klag
, which I helped to rebuild after it suffered considerable damage in an unfortunate collision. She is a fine two-master with a large rudder and excellent draw.”

“I look forward to sailing upon her.”

They walked down to the docks. Tol paid very close attention to the number, position, and gait of Jexx’s bodyguards. He saw four, including the one in the shack at the foot of the pier. Of the three accompanying Jexx, two he discounted offhand as overconfident bullies. The third, a goblin, might be dangerous. He had a very fluid walk and his eyes never stopped moving. The only one with any real training, Tol guessed. He also looked vaguely familiar, but that wasn’t too surprising, even here on the other side of the world from Tragacanth: Tol had seen many thousands of mug shots in his day from just about every nation on N’plork. His mug could well be among them.

Once at sea, Tol had to admit that Jexx knew how to handle a boat. He was obviously showing off, but it had the desired effect; Tol was impressed. Somewhere into the voyage Jexx seemed to have made his mind up about something and they abruptly changed course. After a few minutes Tol could tell that they were making for a tiny island in the bay; nothing more than the tip of an ancient volcano ringed with lush vegetation.

“This is my private island up ahead,” Jexx explained, “On the nautical charts it’s called
Volcano Island
, but that’s woefully prosaic for such a beautiful locale, so I’ve renamed it
Vershulpa
, which is ogrish for ‘Green Cone:’ a more appropriate moniker, I believe you’ll agree.” Tol stared at the verdant little bump on the ocean ahead. It was a green cone, all right.

“Works for me.”

They docked on the south side of the small blot of land, at a pier that miraculously rose out of the water as the
Dez Klag
approached. “I had this pneumatic lift installed because I don’t want to encourage boaters to tie off here.”

“I would think the huge ‘Private Property: Keep Off If You Want to Live!’ signs would probably take care of that,” Tol replied.

“They do help, but one can’t be too careful where the riffraff are concerned,” said Jexx.

“You have a lot of riffraff who own boats around here, then?”

“You’d be surprised. Even though we’re ten kilometers from Yiks and almost into the shipping lanes, the number of people who pile into their little knockabouts and end up way out here is considerable. I’ve even had to chase off a couple of jloks in a jon boat.”

“How did a jon boat get all the way out here? Was there a storm involved?”

“I believe they were carried here on a wave of cheap razzle,” Jexx replied with a touch of sarcasm.

“Ah. You don’t approve of razzle, I take it?”

“On the contrary. I have a sizeable cellar full of it, in various vintages and recipes, as you saw. I simply don’t approve of its use by people who should be concentrating on piloting their vehicle, no matter what it is.”

“I can certainly get behind that philosophy.”

“Let me lead you on a tour now,” said Jexx, “Of this most picturesque little island.”

“No offense, but you’ve seen one tangled tropical jungle, you’ve pretty much seen them all,” Tol sniffed.

“Perhaps, but I think you’ll find this one to have certain... attributes not common to other similar locations.”

Tol shrugged. “Lead on, then.”

They followed a well-maintained path to the base of the volcanic cone and then wound their way up a gentle spiral ramp cut into the basalt, pausing every so often to take in the ever- changing panorama of the dense jungle canopy framing the deep greens, blues, and whites of the ocean beyond. At the top there was, unexpectedly to Tol, no actual indentation but instead a knob of rock and vegetation.

“What happened to the crater? I thought volcanoes always had craters.”

“There is a crater,” Jexx replied, “But I hid it under this roof covered with stone and jungle. It forms a little workshop, hidden from curious eyes.”

“Whose eyes? Sea avians?”

“I believe what I’m about to show you will answer that question, as well as provide motivation for the camouflage.” He pulled a lever concealed by a hollow tree and the entire cap folded and slid to one side, revealing a crater about forty meters in diameter. In the center stood a strange concretion of wood, wires, and fabric that looked like some great avian with its wings held out parallel to the ground. It was perched on a pair of iron rails that began at one wall of the crater and terminated abruptly at the other side.

Jexx walked over to a pedestal set near the wall and pressed a button on it. The wall at which the rails ended dropped into the floor revealing a sheer cliff below it. “This,” Jexx announced with a little flourish, “Is my newest and most intriguing project: a flying machine.”

Tol decided to play dumb. “What do you mean, a ‘flying machine?’A machine that actually flies?”

“Precisely. Not only does the machine itself fly, it does so with me in it. It glides for quite a long distance and can ride on columns of air that rise up from the surface of the land or water.”

“That,” Tol said in feigned disbelief, “Is amazing.”

“Isn’t it? While I did not develop this astounding apparatus myself, I did provide considerable funding for it. I am the only person in the world, other than the creator—sadly now deceased— who owns a flying machine.”

“Really?” Tol said, suppressing a laugh, “Simply incredible.”

He decided it was time to take the conversation another, more productive direction.

“I’m interested in your knighthood, Sir Jexx. To what Order do you belong?”

This question caught the half-ogre totally off guard. “Oh, um,” he stammered, “It is the, um, Order of the Grand Maritime.”

Tol raised his eyebrow ridges. “As in, Grand Maritime Duchy? I thought they were a role-playing group or something.”

He could see Jexx beginning to bristle and his bodyguards ratchet up the alert level. He also thought he detected a slightly incongruous response from the goblin: less hostility than simple increased attention.

“Are you questioning the legitimacy of my claim to knighthood?” Jexx asked, adopting a belligerent stance.

“Sounds like
you
are,” Tol replied calmly. “Legitimate knights don’t usually respond that way.”

“You, sir, should be more aware of the precarious position you are in. No one knows where you are. I could simply claim, with witnesses,” he waved at the guards, “That you tragically fell overboard and we were unable to recover your body.”

“Yeah,” Tol replied, “I noticed that several of your associates suffered similar tragic fates. You must be attracted to accident- prone people.”

“In confirmation thereof, you will sadly suffer one shortly,” said Jexx grimly, motioning to the guards.

Tol grinned and waited. When two of the guards approached him, one on each flank, he suddenly ducked under their grasp, coming back up with a large, knobby elbow in the crotch area of each. When they ducked in pain, he brought his huge fists down on the junction between neck and skull and both of them dropped like sacks of gravel.

The remaining guard, the goblin, drew a weapon but instead of pointing it at Tol, leveled it at Jexx. The half-ogre stared at him in surprise and anger.

“Hands up, Jexx,” said the goblin, “You’re under arrest for murder, attempted murder, racketeering, and tax evasion, among other charges.”

It was Tol’s turn to be surprised, although he’d felt there was something out of place about the gob all along. He looked at him inquisitively. The former bodyguard pulled out a badge. “Detective Gilmat: Frespiola Investigations Division,” he said.

Tol nodded. “I thought there was something familiar about you.” Recollection flooded in: he’d met Gilmat at an international EE conference a couple of years earlier. Gilmat was obviously the ‘inside operative’ Tol had been told about.

Jexx suddenly leapt for the pedestal and pressed another button. A loud pop emanated from the far wall, and the crater filled with thick smoke. Tol and Gilmat instinctively dropped down to where the air was more breathable. As they did there was a grinding noise followed by a click, then the smoke swirled violently as something large moved through it. Both cops leapt for the glider, but they caught only empty air as the flying machine was catapulted out over the dropoff with Jexx in the cockpit.