Yuen-Mong's Revenge (26 page)

Read Yuen-Mong's Revenge Online

Authors: Gian Bordin

BOOK: Yuen-Mong's Revenge
12.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

     
They booked into the Androma Interplanetary, one of the many hotels
rising high above the city shuttle train terminal. Their first priority was
to contact Syd Twan, her mother’s former lawyer. They found his
business listing, Twan Associates, in their room’s ICE comunit under
corporate law services.

     
"Corporate lawyer," remarked Atun, "hardly the right person for
inheritance matters. He’s only dealing with big business firms and may
not even receive you or else will only refer you to another specialist.
From the long list of partners, it looks like a huge firm."

 
     
"My mother was very insistent and certain that he would help. How
do I approach him?"

 
     
"Ask for an appointment, but I doubt you’ll get one."

 
     
"Don’t be such a pessimist. There’s nothing lost in trying and —"

 
     
"— yes, I know, you do the impossible."

 
     
She smiled. "Come, Atun, hug me. You’ve not yet done it today."

 
     
They embraced. She searched his eyes. "Atun, this is the first step in
my quest. Are you still willing to help me?"

 
     
"Yes, love, I am."

 
     
"Love? You’ve never called me that. It feels good." She kissed him.
"So we are in this together. My gain will be yours too."

 

* * *

 

The call to Twan Associates was answered by an automatic answering
service, offering various options, all only for current clients. At the end
of the list was a short notice that the firm did not accept any new clients.

     
"We will go there in person," she said resolutely.

     
"Nothing’s lost in trying," he replied smiling.

     
"That’s the spirit."

 
     
But they could not find a street listing.

     
"Let’s ask downstairs. Somebody will surely know," she said.

     
At the hotel service desk, she asked the attendant: "Sir, we are
supposed to meet somebody in front of the Twan Associates offices.
Could you direct us, please?"

 
     
"No problem, madam," he replied and opened a local visitor’s map of
a holoscreen projected on the counter. "We are here, and Twan’s is
located there." He pointed into the image and a red line appeared,
connecting the two points. "Your wristunits can display this too, and
there are cabs to the left of the lobby, over there."

     
Wristunits, that another purchase we have to make,
she reminded
herself. "Thanks, we prefer walking."

 
     
The attendant raised his eyebrows. "It’s your choice, madam."

 
     
"For a stone-age survivor, you’re catching on fast," Atun said, as they
walked into the street.

     
She was unable to respond to his pun, overwhelmed by the insistent
background noise of the many minds that assailed her in the street.
Closing her eyes, she forced her mind to block it out.

     
"Are you all right?" he asked, taking her elbow.

     
"I will be … in a moment." She led herself be guided by him.

     
Even without the guide of a wristunit, they had no trouble finding the
place. ‘Twan Associates’ was carved in gold lettering above a conservative neo-gothic marble entrance hall, a sharp contrast to the adjacent
space-age buildings.

     
"You know what you’re going to say," asked Atun.

     
"Yes," she answered, smiling. "Just watch."

 
     
At the reception desk, she told the attendant: "Would you please let
Syd Twan know that Zoshan’s daughter is waiting to see him." It was
said with such natural authority that the attendant followed her request
instantly.

     
"Here’s his secretary," he said, pointing to the holoscreen that
appeared in front of her. It showed the head of a middle-aged woman.

     
She repeated her request.

     
"Do you have an appointment?"

 
     
"I don’t need an appointment —"

 
     
"Young woman, nobody sees Dr. Twan without an appointment. I’m
sorry —"

 
     
"I promise you that you will be in serious trouble if you do not tell
Syd Twan that Zoshan’s daughter is here to see him." A degree of
hardness had crept into her voice.

     
The woman remained silent for a moment. Yuen-mong had the
distinct impression that she was studying her face, trying to recall some
distant memory. "Please repeat the name," she asked finally.

     
"Zoshan Shen’s daughter."

 
     
"Please wait." The face disappeared. It reappeared a minute later.
"Did you say Zoshan Shen?"

     
"Yes."

 
     
"Dr. Twan will receive you in ten minutes."

     
"Madam, sir, would you please take the third elevator to floor 56," the
attendant said. "Miss Blacey will be waiting for you there."

 
     
Atun nudged her toward the bank of elevators, whispering: "I don’t
know how you do it. You may not realize it, but getting past the personal
secretary of a man like this is almost impossible."

 
     
"Why?"

 
     
"Because it’s their job to guard their bosses from any unwanted intrusions, and some use it to wield power and to give favors."

 
     
"It was the latter. I think my face triggered some past memory."

 
     
Miss Blacey was indeed waiting for them when they came out of the
elevator.

     
"Miss Shen, sir, please follow me. Dr. Twan will receive you shortly."

 
     
They took seats in an alcove that offered breathtaking views over the
city toward Lake Carda. She could make out the outlines of the Sanctum
perimeter. They did not speak, but she sensed the almost bursting
curiosity that filled Miss Blacey’s mind.

     
A deep male voice sounded from a speaker on the desk.

     
Miss Blacey rose and said: "Miss Shen, Dr. Twan is ready to receive
you." She went to the wide door to the right of her desk. It slid open
automatically, and she invited Yuen-mong to enter, pointing with
upturned palms.

     
For a second, Yuen-mong hesitated whether she should ask Atun to
come with her, but then decided against it. She felt that she needed to be
alone to tell Syd Twan of her mother’s death.

     
"Miss Shen," announced the secretary and withdrew immediately, the
door closing with a barely audible thud.

     
Yuen-mong remained standing inside the door. A tall man — she
guessed in his late forties — with warm, pleasant, mixed Chinese-Caucasian features and of slim build got up from the desk and then stood
like spellbound for several seconds. She could sense the intense turmoil
of emotions unsettling his mind.

     
Finally, he broke his silence. "I apologize, Miss Shen, for a moment
I thought that I was seeing a vision from the past."

 
     
She replied with a smile: "Yes, sir, I know I have a strong resemblance to my mother."

     
"Yes, indeed, even the same smile… What message do you bring me
from your mother after more than twenty years of silence?"

 
     
She sensed the unspoken reproach, the genuine concern, mingled with
deep regret. "Sir, I have no message. My mother and my father were
killed eight years ago, and where we were it was impossible to send any
messages."

 
     
"Killed?" A shadow passed over his face. "Where?"

 
     
"On Aros,"

 
     
"On Aros." It was no more than a whisper. "The planet of no return?
… So the rumors were true."

 
     
"Rumors?"

 
     
"Yes, rumors that your father was sent to investigate the ring of Aros.
I did check at that time and discovered that over the centuries, several
ships were lost there and nothing was ever heard of them again. You said
killed?"

 
     
"Yes, they died so that I could escape the savages who live there."

 
     
He briefly closed his eyes and remained silent for a while. "Sorry,
Miss Shen. Please take a seat." He pointed to one of several soft chairs
around a low table and then sat opposite her. "Forgive me, Miss Shen, for
intruding, are you willing to tell me the name your mother gave you?"

 
     
She marveled how he knew that it had indeed been her mother who
had named her. "Yuen-mong."

 
     
"Yuen-mong… Complete the dream… Her dream that you will one
day be able to leave Aros, I’m sure. So much like her." He again looked
at her, seemingly drinking in her image.

     
He must have loved my mother all these years,
crossed her mind.

     
"And how were you able to leave Aros when your parents could not?"

 
     
"Their lander crashed and was damaged beyond repair. The savages
on Aros — people that got stranded there centuries ago — lead very
primitive lives. They have no metals and all their tools are stone-age.
Some months ago, Atun Caruna from Palo, also crashed near my cave,
but his craft survived, and we were able to rig it and return to my parents
space ship that was still in orbit around Aros."

 
     
"Yuen-mong — may I call you that?"

 
     
She liked the way he pronounced it and nodded.

     
"Yuen-mong, you have to promise me that one day soon you will tell
me all about your mother and your life, but now I want to know what you
expect from me."

 
     
"My mother had told me that, should I ever get off-planet without
them, you would help me."

 
     
"And you need help now, or else you will lose your rightful inheritance."

 
     
"Yes, that is why you were the first person I came to see after
escaping Aros."

 
     
"How have you managed so far? How did you pay for landing fees?"

 
     
"We took gold along from Aros, and Atun Caruna still had some
credits we could use."

 
     
"Is he the man who came with you?"

 
     
"Yes."

 
     
"I would like to meet him and thank him. May I ask him in?"

 
     
When she nodded, he quickly went to his desk to ask Miss Blacey to
bring Mr. Caruna in.

     
She got up too. Syd Twan met Atun halfway across the room, shaking
hands.

     
"Mr. Caruna, first of all I must thank you for rescuing Yuen-mong
from Aros —"

 
     
She was curious how Atun would react to that.

     
"— Dr. Twan, it’s not me who rescued Yuen-mong. She rescued me.
Without her, I wouldn’t have survived a day on Aros."

 
     
"Oh, you are too modest."

 
     
"Sir, when you get to know Yuen-mong, you’ll agree with me. I owe
her my life several times, and even the way to get off Aros was her idea."

Other books

Dead in the Water by Nancy Holder
Long Memory by Christa Maurice
Necroscope 4: Deadspeak by Brian Lumley
Taunting Destiny by Hutchins, Amelia
My Dear Stranger by Sarah Ann Walker
Lydia Trent by Abigail Blanchart
Butter by Erin Jade Lange