Shadow of the Swan (Book Two of the Phoenix Legacy) (27 page)

“I’d never call it that, and the reasons for reviving it at this particular time are obvious.”

“But, Erica, we all
had
personal lives and people we loved, but we gave them up when we joined the Phoenix. That’s part of the entrance requirements, and every member knows it.”

“Ben, he knows it, too, but . . .” She paused, searching for words. “For one thing, he met Adrien when they were both little more than children, and it’s a generally accepted principle in psychology that relationships established in childhood or early adolescence tend to create strong and enduring bonds. Their backgrounds and personality matrices are so similar and complementary, it was almost invevitable that the bonds became permanent.”

“All right,” Ben interposed impatiently, “I didn’t say giving her up would be easy, but—”

“What I’m saying, Ben, is that it’s impossible. I’m sure Alex didn’t realize that when he joined us, but I can tell you this: Adrien is as much a part of him psychically as his right arm is physically.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“Where we always were. There’s one thing you must keep in mind. We call him and think of him as Alex Ransom, but Alex Ransom’s value to the Phoenix is limited to his leadership potential and his Confleet training. The man on whom all the plans and hopes of the Phoenix depend
isn’t
Alex Ransom. Our hopes are built on the Lord Alexand.”

Ben studied her, and it seemed the scrutiny was a long one, but she sat it out. At length, his taut posture relaxed and he nodded acceptance.

“Erica, you always have a way of putting things straight.”

“Psychic splints are my specialty. And now I think you should worry about getting some sleep. When do you have to be back at the Cliff?”

“07:00 tomorrow morning, but I have to be in my office here by 03:00. Well, that gives me about six hours.” He rose and started for the door, glancing in passing at the brandy bottle. “I guess I’d better pick up another bottle tomorrow while I’m in Leda.”

He’d been saying that for the past week, but she didn’t remind him. She went with him to the door and waited while he opened the locks.

“Good night, Ben.” Then she added wearily, “Don’t worry, I’ll raise the drawbridges after you.”

Amik’s summons was a source of annoyance, and a time-consuming one with the two hundred-kilometer ’car flight and the long passage via airscooter through the labyrinths of mine shafts. Alex had almost forgotten to activate his face-screen when he arrived at the shafts lock and met the Brotherhood “blade” sent by Amik to act as his guard and guide, and now his annoyance lengthened his stride as he moved through the arched corridors toward Amik’s sanctum.

A matter of some interest, the Lord of Thieves had said, and refused to amplify that engimatic statement. Amik enjoyed his little games.

But Alex was in no mood for games. He had only three loyal Phoenix techs to oversee the work at the Cave of Springs. The Brothers Amik had assigned him were conditioned, but it still made him uncomfortable to be away when Jael wasn’t there to supervise them, and he was in the Inside today on assignment for the Helen chapter.

Alex wiped a hand across his forehead, and it came away streaked with grime. The work crew was enlarging one of the chambers in the Cave for the hangar. The dust was full of bitter reminders; the Kasai Orongo mines. He wondered how long he could live in a place that continually called up such memories.

He was expected. The blade stopped in Amik’s anteroom, where Yuba glanced up from his desk and casually waved Alex through. Within the sanctum he paused, undecided whether to laugh or swear, finding Amik, as usual, at ease in his lush chair, filling the air with the sweet scent of his tobacco, golden teeth revealed in a languid smile. In the background, a Gariletti
Sarbande
cast its sinuous strains.

But Amik wasn’t alone.

At first Alex didn’t recognize the young woman who was sitting on one of the couches, tense, wary, and, despite her obvious effort to hide it, frightened. She wore a filmy, tawdry costume designed to enhance her physical attributes in the most blatant manner, and her face was marked with the remains of heavy cosmetics that spoiled her clear skin.

It was Valentin Severin, and for a moment Alex was overwhelmed with the old anger, yet behind the fear and degradation in her eyes there was still a spark of defiance. When he saw no hint of recognition, he realized his face-screen was still on. He switched it off and saw her eyes widen, defiance—and fear—dissolving in bewilderment.

“Alex? Is it—oh, dear God . . . Alex—” She rose, started to come to him, then broke into tears, which seemed to anger her and add to her confusion. He eased her back down onto the couch and accepted the linett handkerchief Amik offered with only a brief nod of acknowledgment.

“Val, you’re safe here.” He pulled her clenched hands away from her face and gently wiped away the ugly smears of cosmetics with her tears. “It’s all over.”

She recovered faster than he expected, finally taking the handkerchief to finish the job herself, frowning at the dirtied cloth.

“I’m all right, Alex. Oh, I’m sorry, I never . . . cry.” Then, with a glance at Amik, “But what are you—I mean . . .”

“What am I doing in this den of thieves? I’ll explain that later.” He straightened, noting the glint of laughter behind Amik’s hooded eyes.

“My friend, I hope you’re duly impressed. To find such a one as this is like finding a single grain of sand in the Midhar. And yet . . .” He made a little flourish toward Val with his cigar holder. “You asked, and I have delivered.”

“And I’m sure it will cost me dearly. Where did you find her?”

“In Leda; in the Outside. She had been taken . . . ah, shall we say, under the wing of an associate of mine.”

Val glared at him. “Under the wing! That slimy—”

“I’m duly impressed,” Alex cut in, “with your efficiency, Amik.”

“Ah! I should hope so. It was no easy task—” He stopped as the door slid open, his initial frown quickly restored to a smile. “Jael, you got my message.”

Jael didn’t answer, stopped in his tracks inside the door, his dark eyes fixed on Val. And Val, again taken by surprise, could only stare blankly at him.

Jael asked curtly of Amik, “Where was she?”

“The young woman’s past adventures seem a matter of extraordinary interest.” He puffed at his cigar, regarding his son with patient amusement. “Leda, Jael.”

He glanced at her filmy costume, his voice betraying his angry disgust.

“In one of Powlo’s serallios?”

“In his main serallio, as a matter of fact. He was quite taken with her and very reluctant to part with her.”

“I’m sure he was.” Jael approached Val, but with uncharacteristic hesitancy. “Val, I’m sorry. If you were . . . harmed in any way . . .”

She blinked at him, still bewildered, then looked down at her clasped hands, cheeks flaming.

“No, I wasn’t . . . I’m all right.”

Alex studied Jael curiously. Val had obviously made a lasting impression on him in Fina. Then he glanced at his watch.

“Amik, I must get back to the Cave. I’m not only impressed, but grateful to you for finding Val, and—”

“Well, my friend, gratitude is always appreciated, but, you understand, some effort was involved . . .”

“And I’ll be responsible,” Alex assured him, “for any expenses incurred in the search. You have my word.”

Amik’s glance went to the curtained niche where the Ivanoi Egg now resided in shining splendor.

“And I value your word, my friend.” Then his eyes slid across to Val, his lips curled in a faint smile. “However, I’m not sure I’ll accept your recompense. I find myself taken with the fair Ferra, too. I always had a weakness for green eyes and blonde hair. Ah, yes, I can understand Powlo’s reluctance to part with her, and I’m not sure
I
will.”

Val was white, more with anger than fear, and that seemed to add to Amik’s amusement until Jael stepped in. his eyes cold and stone-hard, to cut his game short.

“Father, you do yourself—and me—down with this gim. Now, one off, the ‘fair Ferra’ is uppercaste in all but birth, and she’ll be treated as such. I lay edict for her; blood edict. I call her friend and sister.” A slight pause; Amik’s eyebrows lifted. “And there’ll be no gaffing at Alex’s expense. Powlo owed up on you, to the neck, and there was no tax for you on the gim.”

Amik only laughed at that, a response that confounded Val; she didn’t know Amik’s penchant for games or understand that Jael’s revelatory anger was the object of this one.

“So. Run short by my own kith.” Then, with a long sigh, “But, so be it. Alex, take your pretty lostling, and your gratitude will be recompense enough, apparently, since my son has developed such a taste for honesty.” Then Amik looked at Val with an engaging smile. “Forgive an old dodder his foolishness, my dear. Valentin. A lovely name, and a lovely young woman. Now—” He put on a frown for Alex and Jael. “Go with! I have no more time to waste on lessons in honesty at my son’s hands.”

Jael sent him a brief, annoyed look, then offered his arm to Val. “Alex, where shall I take her?”

“The Cave. But first you might get her some more practical clothing. Are you off duty with the chapter now?”

“Yes. For a few hours, anyway.”

“Then you can escort us to the shafts lock. I’ll wait for you here.”

Val went with Jael without hesitation, but cast a questioning look back at Alex before the door closed behind them.

Amik was smiling faintly through a veil of smoke.

“It seems my son is full of secrets. Apparently he and the Ferra have met before. Alex, will you take supper with me tonight?”

“Thank you, no. I have too much work at the Cave.”

Amik sighed gustily. “My friend, you’ve hardly come up for air these last ten days. It isn’t healthy or reasonable.”

“But necessary,” Alex laughed. “Amik. thanks for finding the ‘lostling.’ Again, I’m indebted to you.”

“From the look of it, Jael’s the one most indebted.”

“Then this one is between you and Jael.”

Amik nodded, smiling wryly. “So it seems.”

Alex set the doorway shock screens as he left the small, rock-hewn bedroom. He set them for Val’s protection, not to imprison her there. The sleeping rooms were cut into the walls of the large natural chamber that presently served as a dormitory for the Brotherhood workers. But Val wouldn’t be leaving her room soon. When he left her, she was already succumbing to the inevitable reaction and exhaustion.

He found himself smiling, and there was reason enough for it. Val Severin would recover, and Predis Ussher would find an ally turned into an enemy. And this was one problem that had resolved itself positively. In that it was unique.

He paused outside his own sleeping room and looked down the tunnel connecting this chamber with the next—the chamber that would house the comcenter. It would be functional in three weeks, and within six weeks his HQ in exile would be self-sufficient and independent of Amik and the Brothers, and that would be another occasion of profound satisfaction.

It would be especially satisfying to be rid of the Brotherhood work crew, hard, wary-eyed men who prowled the chambers like wolves and, even when stripped all but naked against the daytime heat, never removed the knives sheathed at their sides. But they were hard workers, especially under Jael’s sharp eye, and they were not only conditioned, but Jael had laid blood edict for the “Insiders” supervising them. There had been no discipline problems, except for a few brawls among themselves, and the knives had never been drawn.

Still, Alex wouldn’t be sorry to see them gone.

He went into his room and set the doorscreens, then stripped off his shirt and unfastened the X
¹
sleeve sheath. The shirt was soaked with perspiration, and even without it he felt no cooler. Yet in a few hours, in the Midhar night, he would be uncomfortably cold. But, as Jael had promised, it was more livable here than on the surface; there his blood would literally boil at noon and freeze at midnight.

This room—he found himself thinking of it as his cell—was larger than the one assigned Val, but only because it housed a bank of monitoring screens and a comconsole. His hand moved across the controls, and six screens activated, showing him different parts of the cave.

In the hangar, where Jael was supervising the bulk of the Brotherhood crew, blasting lasers threw up dense clouds of dust; the men, wearing filter masks, moved like faceless wraiths through a hellish and bitterly connotative scene. But the work was going well; the inner locks for the surface ship access tunnel could be installed tomorrow.

Another screen showed less violent activity: the comcenter, a cavern thirty meters in diameter that would be the heart of the COS HQ. Already it had been reduced to that initialed shorthand. Ten Brothers were at work here under the aegis of three face-screened men—Phoenix comtechs, defectors from Ussher’s Phoenix—and, in time, this chamber would be comparable to the Fina comcenter, if on a smaller scale.

Alex frowned and looked at his watch. Ben would be in Leda now, but Erica was on stand-by. He put on a transceiver headset, then set the call seq on the microwave console. There was still no visual image, and these disembodied conversations were an added irritant.

“Radek on line.”

“How’s the weather?” he asked.

“I’m clear, Alex. How are you?”

“Hot and dusty, but otherwise very well.”

“How’s the installation going?”

“On schedule on every front. My next major hurdle is an MT.”

“Ben’s been working on that. M’Kim has most of the raw materials for the MTs for the Corvets. He’s already set up an assembly area, so we’ll just purloin what you need. Ben thought it would be safer to trans an MT to you piece by piece than for you to try to capture one of the Corvets. The components are small; they can be hidden or disguised very easily.”

“We’ll work out the details later.” He shifted the images on one screen to the surface and the glaring, barren vista of the Midhar. On the southern horizon, a procession of black, volcanic cones rose stark against the yellow sands. “Erica, I have some good news for you. Valentin Severin is here at the COS.