Gateway To Xanadu (46 page)

About half an hour passed, during which time I smoked some of the cigarettes in my luggage, and then I began getting something other than slave-chatter from the receiver.

Two sets of footsteps came down the hall, and one set sounded shaky.

“I hope you’ll be feeling better soon, Richard,” an unfamiliar female voice said. “Are you sure I can’t get a doctor for you?”

“No,” Radman’s voice came. “If I need one, I’ll call him myself. Just don’t bother me now.”

I listened to the footsteps, and they went the necessary two-door distance down the corridor. Nothing else was said, a knock came then the sound of a door opening and closing, and then a single set of footsteps went back the way it had come. I lay back again and gave it another half hour.

When the second half hour was over I took the button receiver out of my ear, then got up without making any sound. The receiver went back in my luggage and I went to the balcony door, also managing to open it without sound. Outside the dark was complete, but the red mist floating all around gave off alight of its own, a light that let me see that I was at least twenty stories up, but just beyond the balcony I stood on was a ledge leading in the direction I needed to go in. It wasn’t a very wide ledge, but it was considerably better than no ledge at all, and would have to do; the slaves were still in the alcove and still had no one to distract them.

One leg at a time, I climbed out onto the ledge beside the window, feeling my hair being ruffled by the cool breeze coming by in gentle gusts, allowing my mind knowledge of no more than the ledge I stood on, the building I leaned against. I felt very mortal out on that ledge, but if I were going to reach Radman that ledge was the only way of doing it. In the dark and red-tinged mist I began moving slowly along .the narrow walkway, away from my own balcony, getting closer to the job’s end with every step I took.

I’d expected to get a break with the room between Radman’s and mine, but that room had no balcony, and the window was lit, showing someone in there with his back to the window. I got past it as quickly as I could, then went on to the balcony in front of Radman’s window, climbed the railing, and carefully looked inside. Radman was lying flat on the bed, and by the faint glow of one of the fake wall flames, he looked asleep. It wasn’t logical for a balcony door twenty stories up to be locked, and it wasn’t. I opened it with no sound at all, then stepped inside.

I stopped next to Radman where he lay on the bed and listened to his even breathing for a minute, then slipped the very special ring from my finger and gently placed the stone against his skin. The stone glowed green the way I had expected it to, but I’d still been required to check. I put the ring back on and stared down at the face of the man who had done so much to me, knowing I ought to simply finish him and then leave, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t just let him die peacefully without knowing what was happening, not even if it meant getting caught there. My whole body wanted to tremble at the sight of him, and I honestly didn’t know if it was fear or rage behind the desire. I remembered the feel of his sweaty hand on my helpless flesh just before the appraisal, remembered even more strongly the way he’d forced himself into me before sealing me into a ship that had been meant to rid him of me forever, and there was no way to stop myself. I had to make him know, and then I had to make him dead.

I climbed onto the bed with him, one knee to each side of his body, straddling him as I leaned down closer to his face. His rate of breathing changed, showing that he was waking, and that was just what I wanted. I waited until his eyelids flickered, an attempt to bring me into focus, and then f put my hands to his face.

“I’m here, Radman,” I whispered, watching as his eyes went startled with recognition. “You do remember inviting me, don’t you?”

He stirred between my thighs and began to say something, his hands going automatically to my body, but I had no interest in whatever he wanted to say.

“Let me help you remember the invitation,” I whispered, still touching his face gently with both hands.

“There was you, and me, and some of your men, and a ship that had had some work done on its controls.

You told me to look you up when I got back from my trip, and you laughed. This time we can laugh together. ”

My caressing hands moved immediately to his throat then, and neither one of us was laughing. Radman’s eyes had widened in horror and he’d parted his lips to shout or scream, but my thumbs were already pressing into his throat with the weight of my body behind them, and no more than a rasping gurgle escaped him. He tried to fight me then, hands clawing. at mine and groping for my eyes, his body bucking, but that didn’t last more than seconds. I had a lot of years of experience and learning to call on, and causing unconsciousness isn’t very hard.

It has never failed to impress me how easy it is to kill someone. Five minutes after I had first touched Radman he was dead, and I took my hands away from his body and stood up to stare down at him again.

That piece of meat lying on the bed had deserved death many times over for the things he had done, but in spite of everything it hadn’t given me any pleasure to end him. I was glad the job was finally done, ecstatic that he’d never again be in a condition even to think about touching me, grimly satisfied that he’d never again be able to victimize helpless children; pleasure, though, never entered into it. It was hard understanding how some people did feel pleasure after killing, that or enjoyment or euphoria. After killing with my hands I always noticed how easy it was, and thought briefly about the possibility of committing that easiness against an innocent by-stander, someone who didn’t deserve to be ended.

Although I watched myself carefully that possibility was always there, the possibility that one day I would slip and not perform an execution but commit murder. I didn’t know what I would do if that ever happened, but I never let myself dwell on the question. I just shuddered briefly as I pushed it away, then went on with the job.

I shuddered briefly as I looked down at the former slaver, then got on with the job. Taking off the bio-ring a second time, I opened the band, then pressed the point of the stone into the ball of Radman’s middle right finger. The gem came away with a drop of his blood which it quickly absorbed, and when the blood was absorbed, I closed the band and put it back on for the last time. There hadn’t been a sound from the sitting room since I’d first come in, and I exited back onto the balcony with as little noise and fuss as there’d been in arriving.

Once I was on the ledge and inching back to my own balcony, the easy time I’d had so far began balancing out. The man in the room between Radman’s and mine turned out to be a thinker; I got a glimpse of him sitting in a chair and staring out the window before I pulled back, and knew damned well that if I went by straight up, there was no way he could miss me. Mouthing some uncomplimentary things about him, I slowly got down on my knees. In that position the ledge got even narrower, and my legs poked out over dark, empty air. I brought one hand down on the ledge in front of me, leaving the other hand to hang onto the carved stone of the wall, and very slowly, one hand then the other, one knee then the other, I edged past below the window. I kept having to lean in against the wall to keep myself from going off that ledge to; the unseen ground, lots of stories below, and when I finally . cleared the window I almost didn’t have the nerve to stand up again. I took a couple of deep breaths and forced my hands to get a hold above me on the wall, then gingerly pulled myself to my feet. When my heartbeat slowed down I started moving again, and made it back to my own balcony without any more trouble.

Stepping silently back inside the room was the last thing that had to be done, and once it was accomplished I felt as though some giant weight had been lifted off of me. I went back to my trunk and took off and put away the shorts outfit and canvas shoes, then checked the button receiver to see if there was any indication of the party breaking up. I wanted Val to know the job was over and we could finally get out of there, butyl couldn’t very well go looking for him. If my “illness” suddenly disappeared and someone thought to check the timing with Radman’s death, he and I could find ourselves facing a lot longer stay. I listened for sounds out in the corridor, didn’t hear any, then noticed that I wasn’t hearing the slaves, either. At least two of them were gone from the alcove, maybe all three, and that ought to have meant the dinner was officially over. As soon as he was through looking at whatever Little had wanted to show him, Val would be back in the apartment.

I put the receiver away again and turned from my luggage to stretch, thinking about taking another cigarette before going to bed. After we were back on the Station I was going to have to have a nice long talk with Val, and maybe one with Ringer as well. Things had happened during that assignment that I didn’t rare for, and we’d have to-The thought broke off as a sound at the door to the sitting room caught my attention, but when it suddenly opened it wasn’t Val coming through. Shockingly it was Matthew who was there, James’s big, ugly bodyguard, and in his hand he held a slim, blinking rod. I recognized the rod as a pick-up deadener, a device that kept sound from reaching listening devices, and then Matthew pressed it to the wall by the doorway and started toward me fast. I didn’t know what was going on, but that didn’t stop me from leaning back and kicking him where it hurts the most, something he wasn’t expecting. He grunted with the pain and went down to one knee partially bent over, and although I moved in fast through the surrealistic red light and mist to finish him off, I never got the chance. As soon as I was in reach he ducked lower and moved with totally unexpected speed to. grab my legs and pull, which sent me over backward to hit my head hard on the floor. The blow dazed me for a second, and even though I tried to roll out of reach even before my head cleared, it was simply no good. A hamlike fist connected with the side of my skull, and that was definitely that.

I woke up feeling as if my arms were being pulled out of their sockets. When I was finally able to understand which way was down I got my feet more firmly under me and did what might be described as standing, but only if you define terms rather loosely. I was dizzy and my head hurt, and I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten to wherever I was, but I had the feeling I shouldn’t be happy about being there.

I pried my eyes farther open and tried to look around, but circumstances beyond my control kept that from being easily done. My arms had felt stretched because I was hanging from them, tied by the wrists to something wooden and high.

At that point I knew I had to make more of an effort than I’d made so far, and that pretty damned quick. I firmed up my legs under me and stood as straight as I could just then, and twisted a little to get as good a look around as possible. As far as I could see I was in a stone-walled bedroom, red-lit and mist-carpeted, and was tied to the left front post of a four-poster bed. The room looked familiar and yet not familiar, a room that was both mine and not mine. I shook my head gently, trying to think the headache into easing up, but to no avail.

I’d seen all I could of the room, so I gave some attention to what was holding me in place. When I looked up I was happy to see that my bio-ring was still on my finger, but was not as happy to see that my wrists were tied to the post at a height above the top of my head by what looked like ordinary rope.

With a silent apology to my arms I tried the strength of the stuff, but it wasn’t worth the effort. Ordinary rope would have given a little, but that stuff didn’t budge. All it did was hang onto the carved post and cut into my skin with its fibers, the pain of it adding to the strain in my arms and shoulders. I dislike pain, and tend to fall into a foul mood when it is inflicted, I glared at the rope and pronounced an unladylike word.

“Quite right, my dear,” said a voice from behind me. “You cannot get loose.”

I froze where I stood, remembering that cold, emotionless voice, and then I remembered what had happened before everything turned blurry. Matthew had come into our apartment and had come at me, and I hadn’t been able to put him down all the way. After the kick I’d given him I wondered what he was made of, but only briefly and in passing. What I was a lot more concerned about was the presence of James in the room, now clearly his room, his nearness bringing a chill to my flesh despite the ever-present warmth. I didn’t know what I was in the middle of, but I did know I wanted out of it as soon as possible.

“These ropes are hurting my wrists, James,” I complained in a young-girl voice, hoping I could sucker him into turning me loose. “Can’t you take them off?”

“Not quite yet, child,” he answered, with slight amusement. “You aren’t ready yet.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, and my little-girl voice turned shaky all by itself.

“It’s quite simple,” he said, coming around to the left of the post where I could see him. He still wore the blacks he’d had on earlier, and he still carried that thin cane he leaned on so slightly. “Matthew wasn’t feeling very well when he brought you here, and he told me what had happened when he tried to fetch you. There aren’t many men around who can best Matthew in a fight, yet he had to wait fifteen minutes before he was recovered sufficiently to complete his chore. Happily, the floor slaves remained occupied elsewhere.” He shook his head slightly and tsked, but kept those hell-cold eyes directly on me. “That was very naughty of you, but it did show me what was necessary for your safekeeping.”

“You can’t get away with this,” I began, feeling like a stale melodrama. “Guests aren’t allowed to harm other guests, and uncle Val will . . .”

“Do nothing,” he finished flatly, those eyes turning darker and colder in response to my throat. “Radman assured me that he could deliver you after you left here and that fool of a Little would take care of your uncle, but I make my own judgments as to the feasibility of a situation. I spoke to your uncle and offered him more than most men earn in a lifetime for you, and he refused me. That tells me Radman would have no better luck, and would need to have you abducted before I might have you. I dislike waiting for what I want, and I have my ship here. By tomorrow afternoon we will be on our way back to my estate, and the mystery of what happened to you can be explained by the Management.”