The man had poise; Ravagin had to give him that. "Sorry, but I usually make it a point not to take blithering idiots into the Hidden Worlds with me—not good for one's health. Whatever made you think you could offer such a blatant bribe here and get away with it?"
"Oh, the bribe was just a conversation piece," Hart shrugged. "I thought the guard might call and let you know about it. I see I was right."
"Good for you," the guard captain standing nearby grunted. "First prize is a few years in a very deep hole somewhere. Congratulations."
"Not at all—I'll be out in a matter of hours," Hart said calmly. "I have—let us say—well-placed friends."
"Fine—you can call them when you get to Gateway City," the captain told him.
"I will. Meanwhile—" his eyes bored into Ravagin's—"perhaps I may discuss with Mr. Ravagin the possibility of joining his party tomorrow."
"There isn't any possibility," Ravagin said flatly. "The roster is set, and there's nothing I can do about it."
"Not strictly true," Hart shook his head. "A Courier has considerable power over the makeup of his group—including the power to add someone. Even at this late date, if you didn't mind postponing your departure a day or two. Which is also within your authority."
Ravagin pursed his lips, intrigued in spite of himself. Danae Panya was here through official and probably money-based pressure; now Hart was implying a similar backing. Connection? "You're correct, at least in principle," he admitted, "but in this case it's irrelevant. My client has gone to great lengths to ensure a private trip into the Hidden Worlds, and I've found that when money fights with money the first batch in usually wins."
Hart cocked an eyebrow. "Would it help if I told you that her money and my money were from the same person?"
"It might... if you could also explain why he didn't arrange it as a joint package in the first place."
"It was done that way for reasons I'd rather not go into," the other said with a shrug. "Be assured, though, that I can easily prove what I'm saying."
A motion outside caught Ravagin's eye: a heavy prisoner transport pulling up to the door. "If I were you, I wouldn't waste the time. By the time you get anyone to believe you we'll be in Shamsheer and long out of your reach."
Hart eyed him coolly. "I see. Well, I suppose I should take some comfort in the fact that you're not easily corruptible. Let me try a different tack, then, for the—" he glanced out the door at the transport
—"few seconds I have left here. The Hidden Worlds are an extremely dangerous place, even for a Courier of your experience and reputation. If something should happen to your client in there, you could be in severe trouble."
"Is that a threat?"
"Not at all—just a statement of reality. For all your undoubted skills, you're not trained as a professional bodyguard. I am. If you allow me to accompany you, you'll be taking far less risk, both of serious injury to your client and of possible legal fallout upon your return."
And with that Ravagin's simmering dislike of Hart finally passed the fine line into disgust. "I don't know where you learned how to deal with people, Hart," he said, controlling himself with a supreme effort. "But I suggest you never again try suggesting to a Triplet Courier that he can't do his job.
Captain, I'd appreciate it if you'd make sure the authorities at Gateway City hold your prisoner here until my client and I are in Shamsheer. If you need more charges against him to do that, let me know
—I've got a few I'd be happy to file."
The other nodded grimly. "You got it, Ravagin. Come on, Hart—let's not keep the cells waiting."
Ravagin watched from inside as they bundled Hart into the transport and drove away. "Guy's a real winner, isn't he?" Grey commented from the guard station.
"This whole trip is starting to look that way," Ravagin growled. "Listen, Grey, I'd like you to alert the rest of the Couriers to this guy. If he's really got the pull to get out of the mess he's in he might try to talk someone else into taking him in behind me."
"Right," Grey nodded. "You think all that talk about danger meant anything sinister?"
"As in Danae Panya is somehow marked for trouble?" Ravagin shook his head. "At this point nothing would surprise me. Keep a good eye on that door, okay?"
"Sure. Don't worry; anyone who wants into the Tunnel tonight'll have to go through the Dead Zone to get to it."
"I almost hope Hart tries it. Talk to you later."
Still seething inside, he headed back to his office and his waiting maps.
Chapter 4
Hart was, unfortunately, almost as good as his word. By morning he was out of custody; and though the authorities in Gateway City assured Ravagin that he'd been "strongly warned" to stay away from the entire Reingold Crater area, it was with a nagging sense of being watched that Ravagin climbed into an autocar with Danae for the short drive to the Tunnel.
It was a typical Threshold day: cool, cloudy, and generally unpleasant—the sort of departure day, according to Courier superstition, that boded well for a trip to the Hidden Worlds. Not that Ravagin believed any of that nonsense... not really. But he'd spent a great deal of time traveling on Karyx, and no one who'd been there could ever again take a completely cavalier attitude toward the concepts of luck and fate. And with the trouble this whole trip had already generated.... Furtively, feeling more than a little foolish, he made the prescribed good-luck sign toward the gray clouds above. Just in case.
There was actually little danger of the gesture being seen. Danae's eyes, like everyone else's who came this way, were glued to the window, though what visitors saw in the remnants of an ancient nuclear bomb crater Ravagin would never know. That Reingold Crater had been the site of a tremendous blast was abundantly clear; even after some eight centuries of erosion, it was nearly two hundred kilometers across and easily visible from low orbit on a clear day. The biggest crater on Threshold; but at ground level it wasn't particularly impressive. There was little to see, in fact, but the same sterile gray-brown dirt that covered most of the rest of the world.
"I understand the whole planet's basically like this," Danae commented, still gazing out the window.
"Uh—?" he managed, momentarily startled at the way her thoughts had paralleled his. "You mean the ground?"
"And the giant craters and the lousy weather," she nodded, turning to look curiously at him. "All of it from the war?"
He shrugged. "Presumably, though we're hardly in a position to know what the place was like before they blew themselves to gray dust."
"I tried to look up information about the war before I came here," she said, turning back to the window. "No one's written much about it."
"That's because no one knows a hell of a lot about it," he retorted. "We know the civilization was composed of humanoids—probably true humans like ourselves and those of the Hidden Worlds—
and that it did a first-class job of wiping itself out. Everything else is pure speculation."
She made a face. "Including the theory that the Tunnel was one of their prime targets?"
Ravagin made a face. "It could be just coincidence that this part of Threshold was bombed the most.
It may have nothing at all to do with the Tunnel."
And as if on cue, the autocar topped a slight rise and the Tunnel came into view.
It wasn't particularly impressive, in and of itself, almost certainly by deliberate design of its unknown builders. A few small hills surrounding a longer mound, the latter with a small cave-like opening facing west. The prewar Threshold landscape had probably been riddled with similarly unremarkable hills, with these not worth a second glance... until after the war, when the mounds could be seen to have survived a near-direct nuclear blast....