Planet of Adventure Omnibus (39 page)

Zarfo
scrutinized the work sheet. “Well, we shall see. ‘Adam Reith, the Travelers’
Inn-Contract Number Two-three-o-five, Style Eighteen; prepaid.’ Dated today,
surcharged ‘Rush.’ Prepaid, eh? Well then, let us try a ruse. Back to my
cottage.”

He took Reith
to one of the brick towers, entered by an arched doorway. On a table rested a
telephone. Zarfo lifted the instrument with cautious fingers. “Connect me with
the Security Assassination Company.”

A grave voice
spoke. “We are here to serve your needs.”

“I refer to
Contract Number Two-three-o-five,” said Zarfo, “relating to a certain Adam
Reith. I can’t find the estimate and I wish to pay the charges.”

“A moment, my
lord.”

The voice
presently returned. “The contract was prepaid, my lord; and was scheduled for
execution this morning.”

“Prepaid?
Impossible. I did not prepay. What is the name on the receipt?”

“The name is
Helsse Izam. I’m sure there is no mistake, sir.”

“Perhaps not.
I’ll discuss the matter with the person involved.”

“Thank you,
sir, for your custom.”

REITH
RETURNED TO the Travelers’ Inn, and with a certain trepidation, entered the
foyer where he found Traz. “What has occurred, if anything?”

Traz, the
most lucid and decisive of individuals, was less deft when it came to communicating
a mood. “The Yao-Helsse, is that his name? became silent after you left the
carriage. Perhaps he found us strange company. He told us that tonight we would
dine with the Blue Jade Lord, that he would come early to instruct us in
decorum. Then he drove off in the carriage.”

A perplexing
sequence of events, reflected Reith. An interesting point: the contract had
specified Twelve Touches. If his death were urgently required, a knife, a
bullet, an energy bolt would serve the purpose. But the first of twelve
injections? A device to stimulate haste?

“Many things
are happening,” he told Traz. “Events I don’t pretend to understand.”

“The sooner
we leave Settra the better,” gloomed Traz.

“Agreed.”

Anacho the
Dirdirman appeared, freshly barbered and splendid in a new high-collared black
jacket, pale blue trousers, scarlet ankle-high slippers with modish upturned
toes. Reith took the two to a secluded alcove and described the events of the
day. “So now we need only money, which I hope to extract from Cizante tonight.”

The hours of
the afternoon passed slowly. At last Helsse appeared, wearing a modish suit of
canary yellow velvet. He gave polite greetings to the group. “You are enjoying
your visit to Cath?”

“Indeed yes,”
said Reith. “I have never felt so relaxed.”

Helsse
maintained his aplomb. “Excellent. Now, in regard to this evening, Lord Cizante
suspects that you and your friends might find a formal dinner somewhat tedious.
He recommends rather a casual and unstructured tiffin, at a time to suit your
convenience: now, if you so desire.”

“We are
ready,” said Reith. “But, to anticipate any misunderstanding, please remember
that we insist upon a dignified reception. We do not intend to slink into the
palace by a back entrance.”

Helsse made
an easy gesture. “For a casual occasion, casual protocol. That’s our rule.”

“I will be
specific,” said Reith. “Our ‘place’ demands that we use the front entrance. If
Lord Cizante objects, then he must meet us elsewhere: perhaps at the tavern
around the Oval.”

Helsse
uttered an incredulous laugh. “He would as soon don a buffoon’s cap and cut
capers in Merrymaker’s Round!” He shook his head dolefully. “To avoid
difficulties we will use the front entrance; after all what difference does it
make?”

Reith
laughed. “Especially since Cizante has ordered us brought in by the scullery
and will assume that this is how we entered ... Well, it’s a fair compromise.
Let’s go.”

The trip to
Blue Jade Palace was made in a sleek black landau. At Helsse’s instructions it
drove up to the formal portal. Helsse alighted, and with a thoughtful glance
along the façade of the palace, conducted the three outlanders through the main
portal and into the great foyer. He muttered a few words to a footman, then
ushered the three up a flight of shallow stairs, into a small green and gold
salon overlooking the courtyard.

Lord Cizante
was nowhere to be seen.

“Please be
seated,” said Helsse affably. “Lord Cizante will be with you shortly.” He gave
a jerk of the head and departed the chamber.

Several
minutes passed, then Lord Cizante appeared. He wore a long white gown, white
slippers, a black skullcap. His face was petulant and brooding; he looked from
face to face. “Which is the man to whom I spoke before?”

Helsse
muttered in his ear; he turned to face Reith. “I see. Well then, make yourself
easy. Helsse, you have ordered a suitable refreshment?”

“Indeed, your
Excellency.”

A footman
rolled in a buffet and offered trays of sweet wafers, saltbarks, cubes of
spiced meat, decanters of wine, flagons of essence. Reith accepted wine; Traz a
goblet of syrup. Anacho took green essences; Lord Cizante selected a stick of
incense and walked back and forth, jerking it through the air. “I have negative
news for you,” he said abruptly. “I have decided to withdraw all proffers and
undertakings. In short, you may expect no boon.”

Reith sipped
the wine and gave himself time to think. “You are honoring Dordolio’s claim?”

“I cannot
elaborate upon the matter. The statement may be interpreted in its most general
sense.”

“I have no
claim upon you,” said Reith. “I came here yesterday only to convey the news of
your daughter.”

Lord Cizante
held the incense stick under his nostrils. “The circumstances no longer
interest me.”

Anacho
emitted a somewhat startling caw of laughter. “Understandable! To acknowledge
them would force you to honor your pledge!”

“Not at all,”
said Lord Cizante. “I spoke only for the attention of Blue Jade personnel.”

“Ha ha! Who
will believe that, now that you have hired assassins against my friend?”

Lord Cizante
held the incense still and poised. “Assassins? What of this?”

“Your aide”-Reith
indicated Helsse--”took out a Type Eighteen contract against me. I intend to
warn Dordolio; your penury carries a vicious sting.”

Lord Cizante
turned a frowning glance upon Helsse. “What of this?”

Helsse stood
with black eyebrows fretfully raised. “I endeavored only to fulfill my
function.”

“Misplaced
zeal! Would you make Blue Jade a laughing stock? If this sordid tale gains
circulation...” His voice suddenly trailed off. Helsse gave a shrug, and poured
himself a goblet of wine.

Reith rose to
his feet. “Our business appears to be at an end.”

“A moment,”
said Lord Cizante curtly. “Let me consider ... You realize that this so-called
assassination is a mare’s-nest?”

Reith slowly
shook his head. “You have blown hot and cold too often; I am totally skeptical.”

Lord Cizante
swung on his heel. The incense stick fell to the rug, where it began to
smolder. Reith picked it up, placed it on the tray. “Why do you do that?” asked
Helsse in sardonic wonder.

“You must
supply your own answer.”

Lord Cizante
strode back into the room. He gestured to Helsse, took him into the corner,
muttered a moment, and once again departed.

Helsse turned
to Reith. “Lord Cizante has empowered me to pay over to you a sum of ten
thousand sequins on condition that you depart Cath instantly, returning to
Kotan by the first cog out of Vervodei.”

“Lord Cizante’s
impertinence is amazing,” said Reith.

Anacho asked
casually, “How high will he go?”

“He specified
no precise sum,” Helsse admitted. “He is interested only in your departure,
which he will facilitate in every detail.”

“A million
sequins, then,” said Anacho. “If we must acquiesce to this undignified scheme,
we might as well sell ourselves dear.”

“Much too
dear,” said Helsse. “Twenty thousand sequins is more reasonable.”

“Not
reasonable enough,” said Reith. “We need more, much more.”

Helsse
surveyed the three in silence. He said at last: “To avoid wasting time I will
announce the maximum sum Lord Cizante cares to pay. It is fifty thousand
sequins, which I personally consider generous, and transportation to Vervodei.”

“We accept,”
said Reith. “Needless to say, you must cancel the contract with the Security
Company.”

Helsse smiled
a small tremulous smile. “I have already received my instructions in this
regard. And when will you depart Settra?”

“In a day or
so.”

With fifty
strips of purple-celled sequins, the three left Blue Jade Palace, and climbed
into the waiting black landau. Helsse did not accompany them.

The landau
wheeled east through the cinnamon dusk, under luminants which as yet cast no
illumination. Off in the parks, palaces and town houses showed clusters of
blurred lights, and in one great garden a fete was in progress.

The landau
rumbled across a carved wooden bridge hung with lanterns, to enter a district
of crowded timber buildings, with tearooms and cafes jutting over the street.
They passed through an area of bleak half-deserted tenements, and at last came
into the Oval.

Reith
descended from the landau. Traz sprang past and threw himself on a dark silent
figure. At the glint of metal Reith ducked to the ground, but failed to escape
a violent purple-white flash. A hot blow pounded his head; he lay half-stunned,
while Traz struggled with the assailant. Anacho stepped forward, pointed his
sting. Out sprang the thin shaft, piercing the man’s shoulder. The gun
clattered to the cobbles.

Reith picked
himself up, stood weaving. The side of his head smarted as if by a scald; the
smell of ozone and burnt hair filled his nostrils. He tottered over to where
Traz held the hooded figure in an armlock while Anacho removed his wallet and
dagger. The man wore a half-hood; Reith raised it, revealing, to his
astonishment, the face of the Yearning Refluxive to whom he had spoken the
night before.

People here
and there about the Oval, at first cautious of the struggle, now started to
approach. There came the shrill hoot of the patrol whistle. The Refluxive
struggled to free himself. “Release me; they’ll make me a terrible example!”

“Why did you
try to kill me?” demanded Reith.

“Need you
ask? Let me go, I beg you!”

“Why should
I? You just tried to murder me! Let them take you.”

“No! The
association will suffer!”

“Well
then-why did you try to kill me?”

“Because you
are dangerous! You would divide us! Already there is dissension! A few weak
souls have no faith; they want to find a spaceship and go off on a journey!
Folly! The only way is the orthodox way! You are a danger; I thought it best to
expunge your dissidence.”

Reith took a
deep breath of exasperation. The patrol was almost upon them. He said: “Tomorrow
we leave Settra; you’ve had your trouble for nothing.” He gave the man a shove
which sent him staggering and crying for the pain in his shoulder. “Be thankful
we are merciful men!”

The Refluxive
disappeared in the darkness. The patrol ran up: tall men in striped suits of
red and black holding staffs terminating in incandescent tips. “What is the
trouble?”

“A thief,”
said Reith. “He tried to rob us, then ran off behind the buildings.”

The patrol
departed; Reith, Anacho, and Traz went into the inn. As they supped Reith told
of his arrangements with Zarfo Detwiler. “Tomorrow, if all goes well, we depart
Settra.”

“By no means
too soon,” remarked Anacho sourly.

“True.
Already I’ve been spied on by the Wankh, persecuted by the gentry, shot at by
the ‘cult.’ My nerves won’t allow much more.”

A boy wearing
dark red livery came up to their table. “Adam Reith?”

“Who wants
him?” Reith asked warily.

“I have a
message.”

“Give it
here.” Reith tore apart the folded paper, puzzled out the sense of the florid
symbols:

The Security Company sends greetings. Be it
known that, since you, Adam Reith, have attacked an authorized employee in the
innocent pursuit of his duties, spoiling his equipment and inflicting pain and
inconvenience, we demand a retributive fee of eighteen thousand sequins. If the
sum is not immediately paid at our main office, you will be killed by a
combination of several processes. Your prompt cooperation will be appreciated.
Please do not depart Settra or seek to deny us in any way, as in that case the
penalties must be amplified.

Reith flung
the letter down on the table. “Dordolio, the Wankh, Lord Cizante, and Helsse,
the ‘cult,’ the Security Company: who is left?”