robert Charrette - Arthur 02 - A King Beneath the Mountain (20 page)

"No more than you, changeling," Wilson responded.

John's amazement shifted gears. "You know?"

"We're a pretty inquisitive people. We learn a lot of things we're not supposed to know." There was a stirring among the dwarves. Wilson noted it as well, lifting his head and staring avidly. He recovered himself and gave John an order. "Step forward into the light."

John balked. They had stopped short of the first empty circle of light. Now Wilson wanted him to step into it, apparently alone. There was something going on here. "Where's Bear?"

"You will see him shortly. First you have an audience."

"An audience? You mean like with a king?"

"Very like. Now, be quiet and step into the light."

He gave John a shove, forcing him forward. Stumbling into the illuminated area, John found that the light from above made it hard for him to see anything other than the small space around him and the other illuminated area with the dais. He might have been stranded on an island of light in a sea of darkness, staring out at another, unreachable, island. He felt the eyes of the assembled dwarves on him. Uncomfortable with the attention, he moved to the center of the circle; he'd have more time to react if anything came at him out of the dark.

Silence descended. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something.

Somewhere a drum sounded a deep and throbbing note, (hen another. In the darkness he heard the dwarves shuffling restlessly. Or maybe they jostled for better angles to view what was coming. Wilson emerged from the deep darkness to stand just inside the edge of John's circle. The dwarf was staring at the circle with the dragon chair, so John looked in that direction.

The drum rumbled a pair of notes as a rotund dwarf, with a snowy beard that fell nearly to the floor, stepped into the light and mounted the platform. Wilson bowed to the newcomer as though he was a king. Maybe he was. Although he didn't wear a crown, the dwarf did seem to be wearing some sort of formal robe and there was something regal in his slow, steady gait.

The king—if king he was—seated himself on the throne— if throne it was. He carefully set one foot on each of the dragon heads and fussed with the drapery of his robe until it veiled the glittering eyes. Seemingly satisfied, he placed his elbows on the arms of the chair and clasped his hands together, leaning forward until his hands masked his mouth. His great beak of a nose jutted out over his folded fingers. Under their shadowing brows, his eyes glittered as brightly as the dragons' gemstone orbs, black instead of red.

Under that glare John got a good idea of what a mouse must feel like when cornered by a cat. He started to take a step back.

"Stand where you are," Wilson whispered.

He stood. For five minutes he stood. No one said anything. No one moved. Was he supposed to do something? Wilson hadn't told him, and John had no idea what was appropriate. They'd brought him here. Shouldn't they start things?

The silence stretched on.

They'd said Bear wanted to see him, but John hadn't seen the first sign of Bear's presence. Was it all a scam?

"I want to see Bear," he said impulsively.

"You will make no demands here, changeling," the seated dwarf said in a thunderous, gravelly voice. "Were you to
as/c,
such a request might be granted. Your kind is ever giving orders, demanding where they should make a polite request. I was wise to bring you here for judgment before you were taken to the sleeper."

Judgment? John didn't like the sound of that. In fact, he thought it downright presumptuous. "Judge me? Who the hell do you think you are?"

"You may call me Kranekin."

"I
may
call you a kidnapper. I mean, you have your flunky haul me off at gunpoint, drug me, and whisk me off God knows where, but wherever this is, I'll bet we went across state lines to get here, which makes it a federal crime. I'll just bet the feds would be interested in this place you've got here. And I'll be happy to—"

"Enough!" Kranekin thundered, pounding both fists on the arms of his chair. "Your protest is pointless. The humans have no succor for you. To their databases, you are dead. You are beyond the protection of that system of laws. Here you are under
my
law."

"Is that a threat?"

"As may be." Kranekin leaned back against the dragons. "You have your father's arrogance. Do you follow in his footsteps?"

"What do you know about my father?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"And you didn't answer mine."

"As I said, arrogant." Kranekin's tone shifted. "You wish to trade knowledge?"

The sudden change made John suspicious. "Maybe."

"We know many secrets."

"I'll just bet."

"More than you do, it seems."

"Maybe you'd like to share some of your secret knowledge with me."

"With nothing offered?" Kranekin shook his head. "Unlikely."

"I'm getting tired of this mystery trip routine."

"An odd attitude for one of your blood. Either you play your part better than I think you are capable, or you are truly lacking in your elven upbringing. What guarantee can you give me that you are not your father's tool?" "Are you asking me if I work for Bennett?"

"Is Bennett the name he gave you?"

"You're the one supposed to know all the secrets."

"I would have your word. Are you his tool?"

"As far as I'm concerned, Bennett can dry up and blow away."

"He speaks from the heart," said a deep voice from the darkness.

"My own conclusion," Kranekin said. His mustache twitched as if somewhere beneath it lips were smiling. "I find your lack of filial devotion comforting."

Swell.

Kranekin continued. "Certain ones have suggested that you may be of help with the sleeper."

"If you're thinking of using me to coerce Bear, forget it. He won't bend that way."

"You obviously do not know his history very well."

"He knows the reborn man." It was that voice again.

John wished he could see past the blinding light; he wanted to see who was on his side. He'd have to be content with an invisible supporter. He'd grown up with an invisible friend; he should have been used to it.

"Perhaps he does know the man," Kranekin conceded. "Let us see if the reborn man knows him."

CHAPTER

9

Quetzal had experience dealing with strange, seemingly random environments and struggling with them until he could put them into order. Nakaguchi's computer environment was no more daunting than some of the astral dimensions with which he was familiar. As he had mastered moving in those dimensions, so he mastered finding his way through this dimension of data.

The thinkers of this current era knew astonishing things, the craftsmen were capable of awesome feats; but for all of their accumulated knowledge, for all of their wondrous artifacts, there was much that he knew that they did not. There was much more to reality than their philosophies admitted.

They denied many things which he knew as unalterable facts; yet much of what they professed, he didn't understand at all. He would not make their mistake; he would learn from them. A greater knowledge of the physical world could only improve his mastery of the spiritual.

And he would have mastery.

But he was not so foolish as to rush blindly forward when so much had changed. He would spy out the world around him and come to know it before venturing forth.

It was a more formidable task than he'd anticipated when he had laid his plans for his slumber. So much had changed! There were so many things to learn! Fortunately the computer enabled him to do so quickly. The speed with which information could be acquired and understood was dazzling; even more wondrous was the amount of information to be had. There was so much, so much.

He had so many questions. Many more than he felt comfortable in indulging at the moment. If all went well, there would be time for those intriguing questions. If his plans did not come to fruition, all questions would be irrelevant. Some of his questions demanded immediate answers, and to those he must turn his attention.

What had happened to the others? Was it truly the time? Perhaps most important of all, who stood ready to oppose him?

If Nakaguchi were a true follower, many of the answers lay within the archives he had prepared. But no matter how well prepared those files were, there would be some answers that Quetzal would have to seek elsewhere. For now, he would take what was to hand, wandering the landscape of the computer's world. He would find the mines of datafiles and delve into their records for the hidden diamonds of clues.

But his search was intruded on by sensations from the physical world: Joel Lee prodding his body, seeking his attention. Being under his thrall, Joel Lee had little in the way of independent thought; his action would be in response to Quetzal's orders. Reluctantly, Quetzal abandoned the hunt for answers. The return to the world outside the computer was accomplished swiftly and without the disorientation he had experienced at the end of his earliest excursions.

Through the glass partition to the next room, Quetzal saw the reason for his recall: Nakaguchi's security chief had come. Joel Lee had acted correctly. Still, Kurita's interruption was unwelcome.

"Let him in," Quetzal ordered.

Kurita was an Asian like his master Nakaguchi, though of a more precise and punctilious manner. The man walked briskly up to Quetzal and bowed.

"Ojama shimasu,
Kendall-sama."

Quetzal stared at him while Joel Lee translated. "Kendall" would excuse the interruption only if it had more significance than the false name the security chief insisted he use.

"Speak English," Quetzal ordered. He had yet to absorb the Japanese language program. So much to do.

"As you wish, Kendall-sama. Nakaguchi-sama wishes to know if you find your new quarters satisfactory."

Quetzal didn't need to look around the suite to know that this location was better than the cold, barren place they called the medlab. He could feel it in the fiber of his being. Despite the machine-controlled environment, it was more alive. His time in cold barrenness was over.

"Nakaguchi chooses a strange messenger to inquire after my comforts."

"The
kansayaku
orders, I obey."

"Admirable," Quetzal observed honestly. "There are other matters, of course."

Kurita nodded. "I have the personal honor of reporting that security has been established on the Peruvian simulation chamber. The artifacts from Peru have been installed and all is as you requested. The chamber is ready for your inspection."

"Good." The chamber would serve as a meditation cell, and a workroom as well, at least until he'd had time to create a better.

"It would be an honor to have Kendall-sama inspect the chamber soon."

"Is that your wish or Nakaguchi's?"

Kurita's face was a rigid mask, hiding any emotion or reaction.
"Itachimashita.
Forgive me, Kendall-sama. I meant no disrespect. My team has worked very hard."

"And they are waiting to be sure there is no more work to be done."

"It is as you say."

"Dismiss them." He did not care to have anyone looking over his shoulder as he "inspected" the premises.

"But Kendall-sama—"

"If anything is unsatisfactory, we will deal with it later." "Yes, Kendall-sama."

Kurita made no move to depart.

"What else?" Quetzal asked. He was growing weary with the interruption.

"1 humbly remind Kendall-sama of the Cytronics Board of Directors meeting that is to take place today. Nakaguchi-sama suggests that it might be of interest to you. Nakaguchi-sama asks if the suit he sent is acceptable. If not, another can be provided."

"I will attend." Understanding the workings of these corporations was going to be vital in the new age. He already had ideas about how to manipulate them, but learning from the computer was like learning from a book; there was only so much to be gleaned. Real, practical experience was vital.

"Attendance will necessitate a short trip outside this facility."

"Give Joel Lee the details."

Kurita nodded sharply. "I would also humbly remind Kendall-sama of this morning's meeting."

"With William Jeffries. I remember."

"Mr. Jeffries is already in the building."

Conferring with Nakaguchi, no doubt.

There was still almost an hour before the scheduled starting time. Did they think him so adrift in time as to forget a meeting with this locale's highest ranking follower of the Path?

Sending the chief of security dignified the string of trivial messages, but they did not justify Kurita's presence. "These messages are insignificant."

"I am humbled by your insightfulness, Kendall-sama."

He had thought Persians indirect until he had encountered the Japanese. "Tell me why are you really here."