Dream Thief (32 page)

“I don't want to see you again,” Zanderson said to the retreating figure. “Do you hear me? Stay away from here.”

Hocking did not answer and the chair kept right on going. As the door panel slid closed, the director thought he heard a grim, ghostly laughter coming from the other side. He sat motionless in his chair for a long time after the sound of that laughter had died away.

THE TWO MEN SLIPPED
along the trafficways of Gotham trying to be as invisible as possible. They moved with the crowd of technicians and construction workers, the dark one keeping a wary watch ahead on all sides, the light man keeping his face averted, eyes on his feet.

When they were certain they were not being followed they slipped unnoticed into an empty axial and hurried on. As they approached their destination they stopped and waited. Upon hearing a slight noise and voices speaking low as a portal slid open they dived into a nearby maintenance alcove and waited until the footsteps trailed away down the corridor before emerging to press the buzzer on the access plate.

ARI, HAVING JUST GOTTEN
rid of one visitor, hesitated before answering the door. She expected to hurry off to meet Spence soon and considered that probably it was best to ignore' the buzzer and hope that whoever it was would go away. But it buzzed again, more insistent this time, she thought, so, she went to the panel and lightly tapped the entry key.

The panel slid open and she saw a slight dark man and another behind him hidden in the shadow.

“Yes?”

“Excuse me, Miss Zanderson, I—”

“Oh, it's you. Dr. Rajwandhi.” She paused. “I, uh—was just about to leave …”

“Please, I understand. Is your father here?”

“Why, no. He is at his office, I imagine. Or at a meeting somewhere. If you need to see him, I would suggest—”

He cut her off. “Thank you. Is anyone else here?” He answered her suspicious look, saying, “Please, the purpose of my questions will immediately become clear.”

She peered past Adjani to the man lurking behind him. A hint of worry glinted in her eyes. “No one else is here. I'm alone.”

At this the man behind Adjani moved into the light and both men hurried through the door.

“Spence!” squeaked Ari in surprise.

“Sorry for the charade. I had to see you at once.”

She saw a strange fire smoldering behind his dark eyes and stopped; she had been about to greet him with a kiss. Instead, she froze, her hands halfway to him. “What is it? Something wrong?”

Spence took one of the outstretched hands and led her to the reading room where they all sat down together. “No,” he told her, “nothing's wrong. I remembered some details that might help us. I couldn't wait. I'm sorry if we frightened you.”

They sat on the couch beneath the green abstract and Adjani pulled up the low table and sat facing them.

Now that he was here, Spence did not know where to begin. Adjani helped him. “Our friend here has been awake all night pestering me with impossible questions. For the sake of a restful sleep tonight I suggested we come to see you.”

Ari smiled. “For a sleep researcher he doesn't seem to do much of it, does he?”

“And he makes sure no one else does, either, I assure you.”

“He's right. I couldn't sleep last night. I kept thinking about what you said yesterday—about the Dream Thief. I told Adjani about it. We think it might be important.”

Ari suddenly paled. Spence could see her withdraw a little into herself. Her tone became guarded. “Certainly. I'll tell you anything you want to know.”

“Who was with you just now?” asked Adjani. The change in subject came so abruptly, both Spence and Ari looked at him sharply.

“What?” they asked in unison.

“When we came up a moment ago someone was just leaving. Your father, perhaps?”

Spence frowned. “That doesn't concern us, Adjani. Anyway it's none of our business.”

“But you are wrong, my friend. It might concern us entirely.”

Ari held up her hands. "It's all right. I was going to bring it up myself anyway because I thought it was a little odd.

“Spence, it was that lab assistant of yours.”

“Kurt Millen?” He said the name as if it were a foreign word he did not know how to pronounce. “What did he want?”

“Now that you ask, I don't know. He didn't say exactly. That's what was odd about it.” She paused; a look of deep concentration crossed her face. When she looked up again her eyes glittered; her tone was hushed excitement.

“Oh, Spence! I remember something—it's been haunting me for weeks and I couldn't for the life of me think of what it was. I think it's important.”

“What is it? What do you know?”

“I think I know who's out to get you!”

C
LOUDS OF INCENSE COLORED
the murky air a dull, dirty brownish gray. The pungent scents of sandalwood and patchouli mingled, creating a single heavy dusky stench. But the inhabitant of the closed chamber seemed not to mind the oppressive atmosphere.

He sat cross-legged, his hands folded in his lap, head erect, eyes closed, sight turned inward. He appeared the very essence of the meditating guru with his paridhana, yellowed with age, wrapped in swaddling fashion around his wasted body. His sunken chest and bony shoulders heaved only occasionally as if breathing were not so important to him that it needed regular attention.

The hairless head on its long slender neck floated on the clouds of incense filling the room. A tiny brass bell sat on the grass mat before the ancient figure. With a slow, snakelike movement the guru slid a hand out to grasp the bell and ring it. The hand had but three long fingers.

In a moment a white-haired servant came running, his thin sandals slapping his naked feet in mock applause. The man, dressed in muslin shirt and trousers, entered the room bowing.

“Yes, my master. I am here.”

Ortu opened his eyes languidly and cast his dreadful yellow gaze upon the creature scraping before him.

“I will eat now. When I have finished I will see my disciples.”

“Yes, Ortu.” The servant hurried away and shortly there sounded a bell clanging from some further recess of the guru's castle.

In a few moments the white-haired servant returned with a tray of food in bowls: rice and green tender shoots, and a thick pungent broth. These he laid at the feet of his master and retreated silently. Years of humble service had taught him that one did not linger in Ortu's presence unbidden.

Fundi, the servant, hurried away to fetch Ortu's disciples. Every master had disciples, Fundi knew. Wise men always attracted sincere students who wished to learn the paths of wisdom from one whose feet treaded the higher paths. He himself, though now a servant, had in his youth been a disciple of a great seer who had become a Brahman.

But the disciples of Ortu were unlike any Fundi had ever heard of. They were not human; they were not even alive. Ortu's disciples were six hollow gems, great black stones which contained only dust within their cleverly carved interiors. These stones sat in six teak boxes which had been made to hold them: The teak was very old and had words carved in the design which Fundi did not recognize.

It had been years since Ortu called for his disciples. The last time. Fundi remembered, there had been reports of demons loosed in the hills. Sacred cattle had been found dead and calves stillborn, nursing mothers' milk turned sour, snakes mated in the village squares, and the shrines of the gramadevata were overturned.

He shuddered to think what might happen this night after Ortu met with his disciples. But he did not hesitate a moment to fulfill his master's wish. One did not hesitate before such a stern and powerful master.

He crept to the special room where the stones were kept and drew the key from the leather thong around his neck. The treasure room contained many unusual objects which seemed both exceedingly old and yet new somehow—as if their time of use had not yet come. But he never dallied to wonder at these things; it was enough to be allowed just to see them when he occasionally entered to fetch one or the other of them for Ortu.

His eyes fell on the large gopher wood chest which contained the six smaller boxes of teak. He picked it up by its brass handles and carried it away to his master.

Ortu's eyes flicked open when the last of the boxes had been placed before him. With a twitch of his hand he sent Fundi scurrying away.

He gazed at each of the black glittering gems as he opened each box in turn. A sound like the hiss of a serpent drifted into the air. He held his hands over the six black stones and, with his head weaving back and forth, began to speak in a strange chirping tongue.

His lids closed slowly over his enormous yellow eyes and his ancient head, with its skin dry as old parchment, sank to his chest. The odd, three-fingered hands remained outstretched over the gemstones in their boxes.

The drifting brown haze of incense scattered as hy a cool breeze entering the chamber. A low moan or hum rose into the air; the sustained note came from deep in Ortu's throat. The thin band on his head—the
kastak
—began to throb with a bright pulsing light.

One by one, so softly it could hardly be noticed at first—little more than a stray beam of light striking a facet here and there—the six black gems began to glow.

“YOU WHAT?”

“I think I know who's out to get you—that is, I think I have a pretty good idea.”

Spence's stupid expression gave way to one of incredulity. “How?”

“It came to me just now. Your question sort of triggered it.”

“Let's have it!” said Spence excitedly. Adjani leaned forward from his perch on the coffee table.

“You asked who was here—”

“Kurt, right.”

“But that wasn't the first time he's been here. He came to see me one other time just after you had left aboard the transport— no, I remember clearly now, it was several weeks after you'd left.”

“What did he want?”

“I'm getting to that,” she said a little impatiently. “Let me remember it exactly.” She closed her eyes and her lovely features scrunched themselves into a frown. “All right, yes.”

“Proceed,” said Spence more calmly.

“Your Mr. Millen came to me and said they'd just received a communication from you, and you'd given him a message to pass on to me.”

“What was the message?” asked Adjani.

“Nothing, really. He said that you'd told him to tell me that you missed me and you'd be seeing me soon—something like that.”

“Seems pretty harmless to me,” said Spence, “only I never sent any messages.”

“I thought it was a little odd, but he seemed like such a nice guy, and there was really nothing unusual about what he said. It made me feel a little uncomfortable, though.”

“Uncomfortable how?”

“Well, I was under the impression when you left that if any messages were going to be sent they'd be sent to me.”

“You're absolutely right.”

“Why was this?” asked Adjani.

Spence replied, “We had agreed before I sneaked aboard the transport that if anything happened I'd contact her and no one else.”

“Actually, there were to be no messages at all unless something important came up,” continued Ari. “But Kurt seemed so nonchalant about it—he knew all about the trip and everything and he knew that… that you and I were seeing each other.”

“He knew that?”

“He seemed to know so much I figured you'd told him. I thought maybe you really
had
sent a message and explained everything to them. Why not? It made sense after all. He said you'd told him your work was going smoothly and everything was fine. I figured maybe you were … you know, feeling better. So I just accepted what he said.”

“Did you tell him anything?”

Ari gave Spence a perturbed look. “I hope I've got more wits than that! Besides, it wasn't like he was looking for information anyway. He asked me if I knew you were going on the Mars trip. I told him I supposed I did, but that you didn't confide in anyone very much. It's true, Spence, you don't.”

“Is that all? Apart from the fact that I never sent any message, you'd think it was all on the up and up. You're right.”

“No—that's not all. Here's the thing that I just remembered.” Ari grew very intense. The other two waited to hear what she would say. “Spence, they knew about the birthday gift.”

“That little paperweight I sent to my dad?”

“That's right. I haven't mentioned it, but they caught me when I went to get it from your room. Remember? You asked me to send it for you.”

“I remember. What happened?”

“Nothing, really. They came in as I was leaving. I told them I was just looking for you.”

“Good. And then?”

“And then I left. But they saw the paperweight.”

“So?”

“So, that's just it. They saw a paperweight. But when Kurt came to see me he said
birthday gift.
Spence, I never told them that. I called it what is was, a paperweight. I swear it.”