“You did see them — you picked them out.”
“I mean a close look. I only saw them for a second or two, when we first met them. Luther Brachis took care of the exit permits — and he seems much too pleased with himself. I’m telling you, Tatty, something’s not right.”
“Did you talk to Commander Brachis about it?’
“I couldn’t. He slipped away with King Bester.”
“Where to?”
“They didn’t say. But I think I know. Bester took him to a Needler lab.
“Are you sure? I can’t think what either of them would want with one of those.”
Mondrian shook his head and took another taste of brandy. “Nor can I.” He finally smiled, but it was no more than a rueful grimace. “Princess, if anyone knows that people sneak down here to Earth for their own secret reasons, you and I do. Can you make an arrangement for me to see Rattafee again — tonight?”
“Rattafee! Didn’t you hear? Tatty put her hand on his arm. “Essy, Rattafee’s dead. A month ago. I assumed you would have heard about it. She overdosed on Paradox.”
Mondrian closed his eyes. “That is not … good news. She was the best Fropper I ever had. I even thought I might be making some progress with her. Now … I don’t know where to turn. Where else can I go?”
“For another Fropper?”
“I’ve tried them all. And got nowhere.”
“I heard about a new one last week, somewhere down in the deep basement levels. I can find out more about that if you want me to — maybe even get an appointment for you.”
“When?”
“In a week or so? You know it takes time if the Fropper’s any good.” Tatty hesitated. “I’ll check it out for you tomorrow if you like.”
“Tonight.”
“Esro, I can’t. It’s too late. I was hoping you’d be staying with me — just for the one night.” She came to stand behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. “I don’t ask much, you know that. You don’t have to fake it for me any more. I don’t want the same old promises: how you’ll find a place for me, how you’ll take me with you away from Earth. I’m past all that. Just stay here tonight. That’s all I’m asking.”
He reached up to cover her hands with his own. “Princess, you don’t understand. When I come to Earth, I always want to see you. But I’ve got to be honest with you, too. When I come to Earth, I have to see the Froppers, find out if they can help me yet. I’ll stay here tonight, of course I will. But would you at least try to make an appointment now for a Fropper meeting, as soon as I can be fitted into the new one s schedule? That way I’ll have some hope of a few hours’ sleep tonight.”
Tatty leaned over his shoulder and kissed Mondrian quickly on the lips. “Of course I will. My poor, poor Essy. Is it still as bad as ever?”
“It’s worse. Every year, it tightens and tightens.” Mondrian sat up straight, lifting Tatty with him. “There’s one other thing, then I can relax. Luther Brachis.”
“What about him.”
“If he’s going to be on Earth for a while, I have to know what he’s doing here. I thought I might put King Bester on my payroll, but I’m not sure he stays bought. We need someone we can trust. Could you contact the Godiva Bird and put her onto Brachis?”
“That will cost a fortune. Do you have any idea how much Godiva charges?”
“Budget isn’t the problem. Go ahead and do it. My staff insist that women are one of Luther’s weaknesses.’
“Pity they’re not one of yours.” Tatty straightened and moved away from Mondrian. “Esro, you sit mere and try to enjoy your brandy. I’ll arrange for Godiva, and I’ll fix an appointment with the Fropper. If only you could relax, even for one night — you’re so driven.”
“We’re all driven, Princess — every last one of us.” Mondrian glanced across at the tiny glass spheres, each filled with purple liquid, that sat within easy reach. There was a row of* them in every room in the apartment. “Maybe some day I will learn to relax — and maybe someday you’ll learn to stop being a Paradox addict.”
Tatty had been moving towards the door, heading for the communications unit in the next room. Now she paused. “I wish I could stop, Essy.”
“Paradox killed Rattafee, Princess.”
“Do you think I’m not aware of that, more than you are? I know it. As well as I know that your work is going to kill you — unless you find something else to get you there quicker.” She sighed. “Just try to relax, Esro. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Chapter 6
“Not to live here,” said King Bester. “No one in their right mind would live on the surface.”
A “surface” apartment of Delmarva was defined, by real estate agent convention, as anything less than one kilometer underground. The final outer layer, where roof met open sky, was reserved for automated agriculture and land management. Humans, keep out! Anyone with a perverse urge to sample the “natural” surface life could gratify it easily enough with a trip to central Africa or to South America. The surface reservations there, complete with their protected wild species, still stretched for thousands of square miles.
But the surface of Delmarva Town was a fine place for agriculture. And it was a truly perfect place for an illegal Needler lab — for anyone who could stand the idea of exposure to open sky.
Luther Brachis and King Bester hid their discomfort from each other as they left the final ascent tube and walked up a ringing steel staircase out onto the cultivated soil of the city. Brachis hated those unpredictable breezes. To him they still carried their message of lock failure and hard vacuum. And King Bester, comfortable in the cramped warrens of the city, trembled under the star-filled sky with its cold brilliance.
Walking closer together than either realized, they hurried across three fields of dark-green mutated sedges. Bester knew their destination exactly. After only a few minutes under bare sky he was ducking thankfully into a roofed enclosure. The two men descended a short flight of steps to an open door and a darkened room. Standing at the threshold was a tall, stooped man with a domed bald head, jutting red nose, and long straggling beard.
“The Margrave of Fujitsu.” King Bester was at his most formal. “Commander Luther Brachis.”
The Margrave stared at them gloomily and nodded. He closed the door and triple-locked it, then turned and pressed a light switch. At the other side of the room sat a bulbous plant, five feet high and about two feet across. When the light went on the leaves of the swollen upper part began to open. In less than thirty seconds a single vast flower was revealed. Its central part resembled a human face, with pink cheeks, curved red mouth, and blind blue eyes. After a few moments, the mouth opened. A thin, beautiful tone came forth, a crystalline, pure soprano singing a wordless lament. The song continued and broadened, from a simple theme through to a complex coloratura embroidery. “One of my most successful creations, I think.” The Margrave spoke in excellent standard Solar. “I call this Sorudan — the spirit of song. Stimulated to sing by light, of course, but the real trick is that the melody never repeats unless I so desire. I will be most sorry if I am ever forced to sell Sorudan.” He lowered the level of light in the room. The voice slowly faded, while the melody passed through sublime downward ripples of semitones to a plagal cadence. The sightless eyes closed. Moments later the petals began to curve in around the silent face.