How long had he been here at the university? About two weeks, and already he was caving in.
He told the window to open. There was no balcony, but he leaned out and breathed hard. The night air was warm and damp. Even this high, he could smell the miles of earth and growing plants. The stars wavered overhead, jeering at him with remoteness.
Something moved out there, a flitting shadow. It came near, and he saw dully that it was a man in a spacesuit, flying with a personal anti-gravity unit. Police model. Who were they after now?
The black armor swooped close. Langley jumped back as it came through the window. It landed with a thump that quivered in the floor.
“What the hell—” Langley stepped closer. One metal-gauntleted hand reached up, unfastened the blocky helmet, slapped it back. A huge nose poked from a tangle of red hair.
“Valti!”
“In the flesh,” said the trader. “Quite a bit of flesh too, eh?” He polarized the window as he ordered it shut. “How are you, captain? You look rather weary.”
“I... am.” Slowly, the spaceman felt his heartbeat pick up, and there was a tautness gathering along his nerves. “What do you want?”
“A little chat, captain, merely a little private discussion. Fortunately, we do keep some regulation Solar equipment at the office—Chanthavar’s men are getting infernally interested in our movements, it’s hard to elude them. I trust we may talk undisturbed?”
“Ye-e-es. I think so. But—”
“No refreshment, thank you. I have to be gone as soon as possible. Things are starting to happen again.” Valti chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “Yes, indeed. I knew the Society had tentacles in high places, but I never thought our influence was so great.”
“C-c-c—” Langley stopped, took a deep breath, and forced himself into a chilly calm. “Get to the point, will you? What do you want?”
To be sure. Captain, do you like it here? Have you quite abandoned your idea of making a new start elsewhere?”
“So I’m being offered that again. Why?”
“Ah... my chiefs have decided that Saris Hronna and the nullifier effect are not to be given up without a struggle. I have been ordered to have him removed from confinement. Believe it or not my orders were accompanied by authentic, uncounterfeitable credentials from the Technon. Obviously, we have some very clever agents high in the government of Sol, perhaps in the Servants corps. They were able to give the machine false data such that it automatically concluded its own best interests lay in getting Saris away from Chanthavar.”
Langley went over to the service robot and got a stiff drink. Only after he had it down did he trust himself to speak. “And you need me,” he said.
“Yes, captain. The operation will be hazardous in all events. If Chanthavar finds out, he will naturally take it on himself to stop everything till he can question the Technon further—then, in the light of such fresh data, it will order an investigation and learn the truth. So we must act fast. You will be needed as Saris” friend in whom he has confidence, and the possessor of an unknown common language with him—he must know ours already—so he will know what we are about and cooperate with us.”
The Technon! Langley’s brain spun. What fantastic new scheme had that thing hatched now?
“I suppose,” he said slowly, “we’ll be going to Cygni first as you originally planned.”
“No.” The plump face tightened, and there was the faintest quaver in the voice. “I don’t really understand. We’re supposed to turn him over to the Centaurians.”
18
Langley made no reply. There didn’t seem to be anything to say.
“I don’t know why,” Valti told him. “I often think that we, the Society, must have a Technon of our own. The decisions are sometimes incomprehensible to me, though they have always worked out for the best. It means war if either side gets the nullifier... and why should the Centaurian barbarians get the advantage?”
“Why indeed?” whispered Langley. The night was utterly still around him.
“I can only think that... that Sol represents a long-range menace to us. It is, after all, a rigid culture; if it became dominant, it might act against us, who cannot be fitted into its own static pattern. It’s probably best in the light of history that the Centaurians take over for a while.”
“Yeah,” said Langley.
This tore it. This knocked everything he had thought into a ten-gallon hat. Apparently the Technon was not the real boss of the nomads. And yet—
“I tell you this in all honesty,” said Valti. “It might have been easier to keep you in ignorance, but that was a risk. When you found out what we were up to, you and Saris could make trouble between you. Best to get your free consent at the start.
“For your own help, captain, you are offered a manned spaceship in which you can find your own planet, if you don’t like any known to us. Nor need you worry about betraying Saris; he’ll be no worse off on Thor than on Earth, indeed you will be in a position to bargain and assure good treatment for him. But I must have your decision now.”
Langley shook his head. This was too much, too suddenly. “Let me think a bit. How about Brannoch’s gang? Have they been in touch with you?”
“No. I know only that we are supposed to get them out of the embassy tower, where they are being kept under house arrest, and provide transportation to Thor for them. I have papers from the Technon which will get us in there too, if we use them right.”
“Haven’t they contacted anybody?”
It couldn’t be seen through the rigid spacesuit, but Valti must have shrugged. “Officially, no. Certainly not us. But in practice, of course, the Thrymans must have variable-frequency communicators secreted in their tank, where human police could hardly go to search. They must have been talking to their agents on Earth by that means, though what was said I don’t know. Chanthavar realizes as much, but there’s little he can do about it except to have the Thrymans destroyed, and that goes against the gentlemanly code. These high-ranking lords of different states respect each other’s rights... they never know when they might find themselves in the same fix.”
“So.” Langley stood immobile, but the knowledge was rising in him and he wanted to shout it.
He hadn’t been wrong. The Technon did rule the Society. But there was, there must be, an additional complication, and he thought he had grasped its nature.
“I ask you again, captain,” said Valti. “Will you help?”
“If not,” said the spaceman dryly, “I suppose your disappointment would be quite violent.”
“I would infinitely regret it,” murmured Valti, touching the blaster at his side. “But some secrets are rather important.” His small pale eyes studied the other. “I will, however, accept your word if you do agree to help. You’re that kind of man. Also, you could gain little or nothing by betraying us.”
Langley made his decision. It was a leap into darkness, but suddenly he felt calm rising within himself, an assurance which was like a steadying hand. He was going somewhere again—it might only be over a precipice, but he was out of the maze and walking like a man.
“Yes,” he said. “I’ll come along. If.”
Valti waited.
“Same terms as before. The girl Marin is to accompany us. Only first I’ve got to find her. She’s been manumitted -down on low-level somewhere. When she’s back here, I’ll be ready to leave.”
“Captain, it may take days to—”
“That’s too bad. Give me a fistful of money and I’ll make a stab at locating her myself.”
“The operation is set for tomorrow night. Can you do it by then?”
“I think so—given enough money.”
Valti emitted a piteous groan, but dug deep. It was a very fat purse which Langley clipped to his belt. He also held out for a small blaster, which he holstered beneath his cloak.