Orchid (29 page)

“You gave us quite a scare.”

“Your friend, Stonebraker, was in early this morning. He said that he was on his way downtown to talk to the
police. He told me what had happened. I guess I owe you my life.”

“Do you remember anything?”

Morgan's face twisted in frustration. “Just bits and pieces. The doctor said a few hours of partial amnesia is a common side effect of dirty-ice. I seem to recall leaving a message on your answering machine. Something about a letter from Theo, wasn't it?”

“You said you'd received a message from him.”

“Oh, yeah. I think I remember part of it. Some wild tale about being hypnotized by his syn-psych therapist.”

“I've seen a copy of the letter. Theo claimed that a shrink named Dr. Quentin Austen forced him to steal an alien relic. He also said that Austen needed an ice-prism to control the thing. He wanted to warn you and me because we were the only other strong ice-prisms he knew.”

Morgan sighed. “Poor, crazy Theo.”

“It looks as though his therapist was even crazier. Dr. Austen must have believed that the relic really did have some power or he would never have sent those two men to your houseboat to find Theo's letter.”

“Power?”

Orchid gave Morgan a quick rundown of events. When she was finished, he stared at her in amazement.

“So Austen killed Theo and another guy and then jumped off a ferry?”

“So they say. Rafe is checking into the details now, but apparently Austen had a history of mental problems.”

“What a pair he and Theo made, huh? The crazy treating the eccentric.”

“And now they're both dead,” Orchid concluded. “And the firm of Adams and Stonebraker is going to find the missing relic.”

“Adams and Stonebraker?”

“She means Stonebraker and Adams,” Rafe said from the doorway.

Orchid turned. “There you are. How did it go with the cops?”

Rafe shrugged as he walked into the room. “They think it's pretty open and shut. Crazed syn-psych shrink manipulates equally nutty patient. Arranges to have a valuable artifact stolen and then tries to cover up crime by killing people. Eventually goes completely bonkers from stress of committing murder and kills self. Valuable relic missing.”

“Hmm.” Orchid eyed him thoughtfully.

“Precisely my conclusion,” Rafe murmured. He looked at Morgan. “I'm told you're going to be discharged today.”

“Right.”

“I want you to do me a favor.”

“What's that?”

“Get lost for a week. Take a trip to the Western Islands. Pretend you just won a contest.”

Morgan gaped. “The Western Islands?”

“All expenses paid by the firm of Stonebraker and Adams,” Rafe said.

“You're lucky,” Orchid said. “Second prize was two weeks in the Western Islands.”

Both men stared at her.

She blushed. “Sorry. My great-great grandmother told me that one when I was very little. She said it was an old Earth joke.”

Orchid gave Rafe a long look as she got into the Icer. “What's wrong? Why are you still worried about Morgan?”

“I don't know,” he admitted. “But something doesn't feel right about this case yet. It's not just the fact that the relic is still missing, either.”

“Are the police satisfied?”

“Yes. The important part of the case, the murder of Mr. Amazing and the probable murder of Theo Willis, has been solved. That's all they care about.”

“Don't they have any interest in the relic?”

“They assume that it disappeared into the underground collector's market. They'll keep an eye out for it, but it's not a big priority for them.”

“So what's our next move?”

“I'm not sure yet, but we've still got a client. I talked to Brizo. He definitely wants us to find the relic.” Rafe glanced at her as he drove out of the hospital parking lot. “In the meantime, we've also got a date to attend your cousin's wedding. It's tomorrow afternoon in Northville, right?”

Orchid groaned. “To tell you the truth, I'd almost forgotten about that.”

“I haven't,” he said a little too smoothly. “I owe you. I always pay my debts. Stonebraker tradition.”

Orchid wondered why she was suddenly overcome with the old hunted feeling. “Rafe, I won't lie to my family. I won't introduce you as an agency date.”

“Of course not. At this point I'm just a regular date. The kind of guy you go away with for the weekend.”

Her face burned. “But I don't go away for weekends with guys.”

“Until you met me.” There was a wealth of satisfaction in his voice.

Chapter
16
 

It was a typical meta-zen-syn wedding, Rafe discovered. The bride wore yellow. The groom wore blue. The majority of the guests wore white. Seated next to Orchid in a pew near her parents, he felt extremely conspicuous in his dark suit and tie.

He had been aware of the meta-zen-syn tradition of wearing white but he just could not see himself in a white suit. He was luckier than the groom, he thought. After the ceremony both the bride and the groom would change into green, the color that resulted when blue and yellow were combined.

The change of attire was symbolic of the power of synergy.

Meta-zen-syn was a philosophy, not a religion, but here in Northville many of its symbols had been grafted on to the far more ancient religious portion of the wedding ceremony.

Rafe was amused to see that Orchid did have some white in her wardrobe, after all. The dress she wore today was a breezy thing that fluttered and drifted with
every movement. It was very meta-zen-syn, he thought as he studied it out of the corner of his eye. It somehow managed to reveal and conceal at the same time. Very modest by any standard, it nevertheless managed to make him salivate.

This was no time to turn primitive, he reminded himself. He was trying to make a good impression here in Northville.

When the vows had been exchanged, Veronica and her groom vanished into separate antechambers. The congregation meditated in silence while everyone waited for the couple to change into the formal green clothes that symbolized the synergistic result of the chromatic union of blue and yellow.

Synergistic principles were symbolized everywhere in Northville, Rafe noticed.

On the way into the austere little chapel he had seen North's three basic tenets carved in stone on the outside wall. Not that he and everyone else on St. Helens did not already know them by heart, he thought. Every schoolchild learned them in kindergarten.

North's Three Principles, after all, were the philosophical bedrock upon which any understanding of scientific and natural phenomena on St. Helens depended. It was the discovery and acceptance of that intellectual framework that had enabled the first generation colonists to survive. The principles were paradoxically both simple and profound.

 

The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

The struggle for balance and harmony governs all natural processes.

Balance and harmony are achieved only when the synergistic contribution of each element is equal to that of all other elements in the whole.

Rafe glanced at Orchid. She did not notice. Her attention was fixed on a tall, elegantly lean man dressed in a
stylish white suit who was seated in another row. Preston Luce.

Rafe was relieved to see that Orchid's expression was thoughtful, not wistful.

At that moment Preston turned his head slightly and smiled at Orchid. She immediately switched her gaze, to the large, unframed canvas that hung behind the simple altar. The painting consisted of two lightning bolt slashes, one black, one white. Rafe recognized the picture as the work of Eldon Moss, a master of the Neo-Post Synergistic Abstract school. The minimalist approach of the painters of that school had made their work very popular with the meta-zen-syn crowd.

Rafe had been in Northville for only a few hours, but already he had seen a lot of art and architectural design that was clearly inspired by minimalism.

He had to admit that, in large doses, the austere style took on a bland, flat sensibility. He could understand why a young woman with a strong romantic streak might have had a little trouble fitting into the Northville milieu.

There was a small stir of anticipation in the crowd. Veronica and Terrence reappeared in their formal green attire and were introduced as husband and wife. The congregation rose to greet them with a solemn meta-zen-syn chant of welcome.

The new couple walked back down the aisle together. Row by row, the guests followed.

Rafe took Orchid's arm as she got to her feet. “Do we get to eat now?”

She gave him a fleeting grin. “Yes, but don't say I didn't warn you. At a classic meta-zen-syn wedding even the food is supposed to symbolize the Three Principles.”

“I'm hungry enough to eat green hors d'oeuvres.”

The afternoon was warm and sunny. The reception was held in a serenely austere garden that overlooked the heavily wooded hills of Northville.

To Rafe's relief, the canapés were not all blue and yellow or even green. The small pastries, skewered tid-bits,
and assorted delicacies were, however, artfully arranged in classic meta-zen-syn patterns on the trays. Most were decorated with meta-zen-syn designs, but the symbolism did not affect the taste. The intellectual elite of Northville were a sophisticated lot. They relished gourmet food and wine.

Half an hour later Rafe stood in front of an abstract minimalist stone sculpture that consisted of a large circle and a triangle and looked out across the low rock wall that surrounded the garden.

From his vantage point he could see most of Northville and the campus of the Patricia Thorncroft North Institute for Synergistic Studies. The town and the prestigious think tank were inextricably linked together. Everyone who lived in Northville was affiliated with the institute in one way or another. The connection was underscored by the manner in which the architecture of the homes and shops in the village echoed the meta-zen-syn elegance and simplicity of the institute's buildings.

The effect of an entire town built along meta-zen-syn principles was either profoundly serene or downright dull. It depended, he supposed, on one's philosophical orientation. The fact that he found the vista a little dull made him wonder about his own personal outlook.

“Enjoying the scenery, Rafe?”

Rafe turned to see Orchid's father, Edward Adams, coming toward him. The two men had been introduced earlier, but there had been little opportunity to talk before the wedding.

Edward was much older than Rafe had expected. The professor was in excellent physical condition, but his hair was completely silver. There was a calm intelligence in his green eyes.

Rafe recalled Orchid telling him that she was the youngest of the Adams' three offspring, but he had not realized until he had met her much older brothers that she had been born several years after them. She must have come as a surprise in more ways than one, he reflected.
A rebellious romantic in a family of meta-zen-syn intellectuals.

“I've never seen a whole town designed by meta-zen-syn architects.” Rafe munched a small cracker topped with minced, spiced aspara-cado and cheese. “It's interesting.”

Edward chuckled as he came to a halt. “That's the word my daughter uses when she's trying to be polite about a work of art she doesn't like.”

“Useful word.” Rafe glanced across the garden to where Orchid was chatting with Veronica and her new husband. “I must remember to thank her for it.”

Edward continued to smile but his eyes held a father's watchful, probing expression. “I understand that you and Orchid met through an agency?”

“Yes, sir.” Rafe smiled.

“A
focus
agency, I believe. You hired her for a routine assignment?”

So much for the fleeting hope that he might be able to pull off a small misunderstanding here the way he had at Alfred G.'s birthday party. “It wasn't exactly routine.”

“Few things are where Orchid is concerned. She's always marched to a different horn-drum.”

“I figured that out right off.”

“Because you also march to a different beat?” Edward studied him with a shrewd gaze. “Perhaps that is why you are drawn to each other.”

Rafe reminded himself that he was talking to a full professor of metaphysics with a specialty in synergistic theory. One had to be careful what one said around people like Edward Adams. They put things together in a hurry.

“Orchid and I have quite a lot in common,” Rafe said easily.

“Is that a fact?”

“Yes, sir, it is.”

“She tells me you're a strat-talent.”

Rafe braced himself. “That's right.”

Edward spread one hand on the round form of the sculpture as if he found the texture of the stone fascinating. “You and Orchid both have highly unusual para-profiles.”

“Yes, sir.”