“Not bad for a guy who’s been out of work for fifteen years,” he muttered.
He was about to start a slow circle for a better look when he noticed another flitter approaching. He took control of his own vehicle and moved off at an unhurried pace. The other flitter was closed with the windows opaqued. He watched it land in front of the Proska house and cursed himself for his carelessness in renting an open flitter. If deBloise had been in that flitter and had recognized him, Easly’s cover was in jeppardy. His policy in a situation such as this was to assume the worst. That being the case, he would have to hurry and make another inquiry and then, possibly, get off-planet immediately.
Easly had obtained another address before leaving the Planet Center, that of Jacob Howell. He now punched that address and gave his flitter full throttle. Howell had been in charge of the Jebinose Psi School at the time Proska had dropped out. Maybe he could supply another piece to the puzzle.
Howell was retired now and lived off his pension in a small apartment in the city. He seemed to be a lonely old man and welcomed Easly openly. Any company, even that of strangers, was better than sitting alone.
Easly decided on a direct approach. “Do you remember a student named Proska, Mr. Howell?
About thirty-four years ago, at the age of ten, he dropped out of the Psi School.”
Howell wrinkled his brow. “Proska?”
“Cando Proska.”
Howell nodded. “Yes, I believe I do remember him. The name isn’t familiar but it’s so rare that someone drops out of the school that I believe I know who you mean; Nasty business, that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, little Proska got into an argument with another boy whose name escapes me-it was in the psychokinesis lab, I think-and the other boy died right there on the spot. Proska blamed himself and would not return to the school.”
“What did the other boy die of?”
Howell shrugged. “We don’t know. His parents were from the farm region and were devout members of the Heavenly Bliss sect-we have a lot of them on Jebinose, you know-and they refused to allow an autopsy. It’s part of the Heavenly Bliss canon that the human body not be willfully mutilated.
It was known that the boy had some sort of congenital heart defect and that was assumed to be the cause of death. It was probably the excitement of his argument with little Proska that brought it on, but Proska could not be blamed. You couldn’t convince him of that, however. He considered himself responsible and never wanted to come back.”
Easly was interested. “Congenital heart defect? But that’s ancient history! Nobody walks around with that sort of condition anymore!”
“They do when the parents refuse to consent to surgery,” Howell said. “Mutilation, you know. If the same thing happened today there would be an autopsy, Heavenly Bliss sect or no. But we weren’t as well organized then as we are now. I wish we had insisted on an autopsy. Then little Proska would have been spared such a burden of guilt. It was a shame to lose him. I seem to remember that he showed promise.”
Easly’s mind turned this new information over a few times and looked for correlations. None. He rose and thanked Howell for his help. The man virtually insisted that he stay for dinner, or at least for a drink. Easly begged off and left feeling guilty for not repaying the man for his information with a little companionship. But time was too short, and instinct was prodding him to leave Jebinose immediately.
He shrugged it off. He was interested now, too interested to give up just yet. He had a tantalizing feeling that all the pieces were there; all he had to do was arrange them in the proper light. He started laying them out for examination. It was important to Jo to stop, or delay, deBloise and this Mr. Proska might well supply the lever with which she could apply some pressure.
First of all, deBloise was terrified of Proska. Proska was a psi who might possibly have caused the death of a boy at school as a child. He had never returned because of guilt. Why so much guilt? Unless he knew he had killed the other boy!
Could Proska kill with his mind?
Proska had a hold over deBloise and a big, expensive, well-protected house … and he hadn’t worked for the past fifteen years. Fifteen years … the Integration Bill was passed almost fifteen years ago…
The subconscious correlation his mind had made back at the Planet Center suddenly came to the surface: it was fifteen years ago that Junior Finch had been killed on this planet! And it was possible that Proska could kill with his mind … and Proska quit work fifteen years ago! And he had a hold over deBloise.
But that didn’t fit. The Vaneks killed Junior; they admitted it openly. And Vaneks never lie. And it was generally conceded that Junior’s death merely increased the margin by which deBloise’s pet Integration Bill was passed. So deBloise had nothing to gain from Junior’s death. Or had he?
Against his better judgment, Easly decided to pay another visit to the alley where Joe, Jr. had been killed. Perhaps the same Vanek would still be there. He would no doubt be as reticent as he had been earlier in the afternoon so Easly made a stop at his hotel room. This time he would be better prepared; all he needed now was the tiniest bit of cooperation from the beggar.
The sun was well below the horizon when he landed in Danzer and he made his way quickly through the darkened streets hoping that he would find the same beggar in the alley.
He did, Easly wanted an older beggar, one who might have known Junior personally.
“Wheels within wheels, bendreth,” the beggar greeted him. “Have you come again to meditate on our friend, Junior Finch?”
Easly nodded. “I would also like to meditate on someone else. His name is Proska.”
The beggar’s eyes remained impassive. “We know Mr. Proska but we do not fear him. We are not completely human and so his power is ineffective against us.”
“What power?” he asked with a start. He hadn’t expected such a direct answer.
“There are many powers in the Great Wheel,” the Vanek said. “Mr. Proska possesses quite an unusual one.”
“Yes, but just what is his power?”
The beggar shrugged. “Wheels within wheels, bendreth.
Easly knew right then that he would get little more out of the Vanek without some help. The evening breeze had yet to rise so he had to act now. He withdrew a cigar from his pocket and took his time lighting it. By the time the tip was glowing a bright red, he and the beggar were enveloped in a cloud of aromatic smoke. This was the effect Easly had wanted. He had a tiny vial of gas in his hand. He opened the nozzle and let it stream toward the Vanek. The gas worked as a highly effective tongue-loosener on humans but was not entirely odorless and colorless. Thus the improvised smoke screen. He could only hope the Vanek nervous system was still sufficiently humanoid for the gas to work.
It took only a few seconds for the vial to empty and Easly casually slipped it back into his pocket, allowing himself to breath again.
“What is Proska’s power?” he repeated.
“Wheels within wheels, bendreth, ” came the standard reply.
Easly cursed and was about to get to his feet when he noticed the beggar begin to sway.
“I am dizzy, bendreth. I fear it is the smoke you make.”
“I’m very sorry,” Easly said with the slightest trace of a smile. A mild dizziness was the drug’s only side effect. He ground the cigar out in the dirt.
“Maybe you didn’t understand my question,” he said carefully. “I want to know what kind of power Mr. Proska possesses.”