He glanced at Frazier. "Unless this is some sort of setup."
"What form of magic?-"
"... Should be coming into view about now." "Red! Where's that voice coming from?" "Don't bother me! Damn it!"
"Demons are very untrustworthy!" Frazier said, and he began tracing designs in the air. Fiery shapes flowed from his fingertips and hung before him.
"Red! What's he up to?" Flowers asked. "My opticalscanners show—"
Red cut sharply to the right and off onto the shoulder, braking.
"Stop cluttering my cab with spells!" Red ordered. "You're not from any main-branch C Twenty. What are you trying to pull?"
The police cruiser cut past and came to a stop before them. It was a gray evening, and snow decked the trees in the forest to the right.
"I repeat—" Red said, but Frazier had already opened the door and was stepping down.
"I don't know how you managed this—" Frazier began.
Red recognized the officer emerging from the police vehicle but did not know his name.
"—but you have just made a mistake." Frazier regarded the advancing policeman. "So did I, though, come to think of it..." he added.
The cab's door slammed shut. The truck went into reverse, its tires grinding gravel. Its wheels cut to the left, its engine revved through a long pause while ghostly shapes streaked by. Then it shot onto the highway to flee through a pale day, a golden arch above it.
"Flowers," Red said, "why did you override?"
"A cost-benefit analysis of that situation put you in the red. Red. There's a better than sixty-percent chance I just saved your life."
"But those were real cops."
"Too bad for them, then."
"He was that dangerous?"
"Think about it."
"I am, and I'm not sure what he was. Wonder where Chadwick got hold of him?" "He's not one of them. He's not part of the game,
Red "
"What makes you think that?"
"He would have been briefed if he were. He didn't even know what I was. Is this Chadwick stupid, to send someone that unprepared?"
"No. You're right. We've got to go back."
"I wouldn't advise it."
"This time I override. Take the next tumoff. Get back on the other side. Then swing around again. I have to know."
"Why?"
"Just do it."
"You're the boss."
The light began to pulse as the truck slowed, then it drew to the right and onto a ramp. Frowning, Red traced designs in the air and then on a pad.
"Yes," he finally said as they headed back.
"Yes, what?"
"Life is getting interesting. Go faster."
"Are you sure you want to find him again?"
"He won't be there."
"You're guessing."
They headed down a ramp, through an underpass, and up again.
"Just a few minutes more. There! Up ahead. The police car is still there. Are you certain we should stop?"
"Do it!"
They pulled off the Road, came to a halt behind the teardrop-shaped vehicle. Red climbed out, walked forward. As he advanced, he could smell burnt upholstery and burnt flesh. The right-hand door of the car was open and slightly twisted. The interior had been thoroughly burned out. The charred body of one man
lay sprawled across the front seat, badge blackened, gun in hand. The other officer's remains lay on the ground near the front of the car. The tires had been melted, the rear of the vehicle torn open. Red paced the length of the car several times.
Frazier's suitcase lay sprung on a mound of snowy leaves to his right, its contents strewn on the ground. Red's brow furrowed and he shook his head as he regarded the dildoes, contraceptives, and bondage and discipline devices it had contained. They began to smoke and steam, flow and melt, as he looked at them. He looked about for footprints, but nothing was clear.
Returning to his pickup, he announced, "All right C Eleven. I'll take over at Twelve, though."
"I could monitor from here. Some sort of bomb, I'd say. Any sign of where he went?"
'No."
'You're lucky."
'Not quite."
'What do you mean?"
'Well, we let it get away."
'I'd call that lucky."
Red yanked his cap down over his eyes and folded his arms. His breathing deepened.
Two
Timyin Tin worked in the monastery garden, apologizing to the weeds as he removed them. A small man, whose shaven head made his age even more difficult to determine, he hoed with great enthusiasm, his movements sharp and supple. His gown hung loosely about him, occasionally disturbed by the cool wind from the snow-capped mountains. He seldom looked at the mountains. He knew them too well. He was instantly alert to the approach of a fellow monk, however, though he gave no sign of this awareness until the other came to a halt at the head of the row he was working.
"You are wanted within," said the other.
Timyin Tin nodded.
"Good-bye, my friends," he said to the plants, and he went to clean his tools and place them in the shed.
"The garden grows well," the other said.
"Yes."
"I believe this summons involves the visitors."
"Oh? I heard the gong earlier, announcing the arrival of travelers, but I did not see who had come."
"Their names are Sundoc and Toba. Do you know them?"
"No."
The two men passed toward the main building, paus ing briefly before a statue of the Buddha. They entered and moved along a hall to a cell near its end. The second man entered there with proper observances and
addressed the small, shriveled man who was the head of the monastery.
"He is here, worthy one." "Then bid him enter."
He returned to the doorway, barely glancing at the
two strangers who sat on mats across from the master, drinking tea.
"You may come in,'' he said, withdrawing himself as Timyin Tin entered the cell.
"You sent for me, honored sir," he said.
The master regarded him for several moments before speaking.
"These gentlemen wish you to accompany them on a journey," he finally said.
"Myself, esteemed one? There are many who know the area far better."
"Of this I am aware, but it seems they want more
than a guide. I will leave it to them to make matters clear to you."
With this, the master rose to his feet, carrying with
him a saddlebag that clinked and rattled, and departed the cell.
Both strangers stood as Timyin Tin regarded them. "My name is Toba," said the dark-skinned one with the beard. He was heavily built and stood perhaps a head taller than Timyin Tin. "My companion is called Sundoc." He indicated the very tall, copper-haired man, whose skin was pale, whose eyes were blue. "His fourteenth-century Chinese of this district is not as
good as my own, so I will speak for both of us. Who are you, Timyin Tin?"
"I do not understand," the monk replied. "I am he whom you see before you."
Toba laughed. A moment later, Sundoc laughed also.
"Forgive us," Toba said then. "But what were you before you came to this place? Where did you live? What did you do?"
The monk spread his hands.
''I do not remember."
"You work in the gardens here. Do you like that?"
"Yes. Very much."
Toba shook his head.
"How are the mighty fallen," he said. "Do you think-"
The larger man had taken a step nearer the monk. His fist suddenly shot forward.
Timyin Tin appeared to shift only slightly, but Sundoc's fist passed him without making contact. The fingers of the monk's left hand seemed but to graze the passing elbow to guide it. His body turned somewhat His other hand disappeared behind the larger man.
Sundoc was swept across the room to crash into the wall, head-downward. He fell to the floor and lay still.