Race Against Time (9 page)

She had converted into a peasant girl in less than a minute! John marveled that this outfit should have been concealed under the fetching, tight-waisted party dress. She must have been fighting for breath!

Now she let him lead. In fact, she bowed her head as though she had just been beaten and insisted on staying behind him, nullifying his attempts at courtesy. He felt as if he were leading a slave. She was so servile and disheveled!

They walked at a moderate pace toward the park, ignoring the occasional people they passed. Probably most of the city was concerned with the Standard intruder spotted earlier, he thought, and could not be bothered with unrecognized bit players. The city would be bothered tomorrow, though, when it discovered its prizes gone!

But they would have to wait at the park, for Yao Pei had not arrived with Canute, and Betsy had not brought the taxi back. John became increasingly nervous as he realized how critical the element of timing was and how dependent they were on sheer luck. If Betsy arrived before Pei, or if the Standards figured it out and intercepted them....

John glanced at the peasant Meilan. Betsy might have briefed Pei, but how well had Pei briefed Meilan? Or had she picked up something from the boy she must have met, if this foul-up had been consistent? That would be—well, if white John had met black Ala, and white Betsy had met yellow Pei, yellow Meilan would have had to meet the last, Ala's intended—black Humé. Humé of Kanem. What had passed between them?

"A Standard taxi will come—there," he murmured, flicking his finger toward the interior of the park. "You understand?"

Her expression was enigmatic, but before she answered, a farmer turned a corner with his donkey. The animal hauled a rickety cart loaded with dead fish and live scraggly ducks. The smell was potent, for the fish were not fresh, and the birds had obviously been caged without sanitary measures for some time.

"You look like a person of quality!" the peasant man exclaimed, bearing toward John. "Fine fresh fish caught just this week, excellent geese!"

"No, thanks," John muttered, trying to avoid him. The man's face and arms were smeared with dirty grease, as though he had been wallowing in his merchandise.

"Behold this spectacular bird!" the farmer cried, jerking open a cage and hauling forth a bedraggled duck by the feet. "I trapped him just this morning on my own fields. Yours for only one tiao. A fantastic bargain!"

"Thank you, no," John repeated, wishing the man would go away. Betsy's taxi could arrive at any time, and there would be no chance for secrecy if they had company. They could wait for Pei only if unobserved.

"You drive a hard bargain, master!" the farmer bellowed. Even his breath stank of fish. "But I'll let you have him for only two thousand cash."

Meilan made a stifled sound, and John realized he was being bilked—assuming he intended to buy at all. He didn't know how much a tiao was, or two thousand cash, but either was probably far more than the bird was worth. "I don't want any," he said with some force. "Go away."

The farmer stared at him from a round, smudged countenance. "Do you want me to lose face?" he demanded in return, not budging. "Do you despise my fair merchandise? I shall have to complain to the prefect!"

Meilan covered part of her face with one hand. Oh-oh. Translated, that meant the Standards would learn something was up. John remembered that "face" was very important to the Chinese. Everything had to be done in such a way as to preserve the appearance of self-respect. He would have to play the game, even though he knew it
was
merely a game.

"I did not mean to disparage your merchandise," John said carefully. "I am merely out for a walk and do not need a duck. I did not wish to waste your valuable time." The valuable time of a fake peasant!

The farmer considered. "All right. Let's be friends. Have supper with me." He lifted a dirty bag from the cart and went to sit on the grass at the edge of the park. "Come—join me. I have excellent stewed rice, bamboo shoots, fermented bean curd, pig gizzard, and plenty of cold tea. All grown from the finest natural fertilizer—men's own."

John's appetite left him. "I, uh...."

"You don't want to be friends? The prefect...."

Brother! The farmer's filth-encrusted hands were already dumping out the comestibles—all mixed together. Not only was it an unappetizing meal, it meant he was not going to get rid of this nuisance at all soon.

Meilan's shoulders were shaking, and her face was averted. John couldn't blame her for being upset. To have this happen
now!
Seeing no alternative, John joined the farmer on the ground. He succeeded in refusing the bamboo shoots but not the bean curd. This was an almost cakelike mass—and, surprisingly, it did not taste bad.

Meilan continued to avert her face, but she nibbled daintily at a bamboo shoot. John watched the interior of the park nervously, hoping the taxi would not come. Yet.

"Ah," the farmer sighed happily. "This reminds me of the feast of Hsu Chen-Chun Ching-Chih after he bested the dragon, the spiritual alligator."

"Who?" John asked without thinking.

"Hsu Chen-Chun Ching-Chih, whose ordinary name was Sun. You do not know of him?"

Should he say yes or no? John decided on the truth. "No. I mean, yes, I do not know of him."

"Wonderful! I shall tell you the entire story!"

Meilan made a strangled sound. John cast about desperately for some pretext to prevent the threatened narrative, but the farmer had already started.

"Sun was a native of Honan, born in the time of the Three Kingdoms, some five hundred years ago. Ah, there was a marvelous, romantic time!"

"Yes, I'm sure," John said impatiently. How could he get rid of this loquacious peasant? The whole escape was in peril.

"What a man! Sun, whose full name was—"

"Get on with the story!" John said, muscles twitching.

"With pleasure, since you ask. During the great drought he had only to touch a fragment of tile, and it became gold and brought wealth to the suffering people. By his magic talismans he cured sickness. During the dynastic troubles of San Kuo—"

"What about the dragon?"

"Why hurry the tale? It is not yet even dusk."

"I'm eager to know the outcome," John said despairingly. Where were Yao Pei and Canute?

"Very well. Seldom have I had so attentive an audience. In the Lu Shan Mountains south of Chiu-Ching was a dragon, the spiritual alligator. He transformed himself into a young man named Shen Lang and married Chia-yu, the daughter of the chief judge of T'an Chou. In the winter he lived with her, but in the spring and summer he returned to the country to roam in the rivers and lakes as a dragon. One day Sun met Lang and recognized him as a dragon and knew at once that—" John looked up as the farmer paused. Soldiers were coming! Three of them—and he could tell by their attitude that they were looking for someone. And here he was with Meilan, snared by a storytelling farmer! It was too late to hide.

"Have you seen
them?"
the lead soldier demanded.

"Why, yes," the farmer cried, though the question had been directed at John.

The troopers gathered round, bows at hand, arrows bristling from quivers, swords naked. John's heart sank. The weapons might be primitive, but they were plenty adequate for the occasion!

"Here?" a soldier demanded. "How long ago?"

"At the yellow house this very morning," the farmer said proudly. "I saw
her
arrive, and I tried to sell her a live goose, but"—he paused, seeming to think of something—"here, let me show you my wares. Look at this exquisite bird! Only one tiao, because I so respect men of the sword. And fish too—just smell that aroma!"

The soldiers had already smelled. Noses wrinkled, they retreated.

Meilan was choking. John permitted himself a smile. This was a silver lining he had not anticipated. No one would bother them while this peasant had merchandise to peddle.

But what had held up Yao Pei and Canute? This was getting more serious as time passed. If Betsy came now....

"That he was the cause of all the floods that had been devastating Kiangsi Province recently," the farmer said, picking up exactly where he had left off. "Sun decided to get rid of Lang so that the land would prosper again. But the dragon was aware of this. He changed himself into a yellow ox and fled. Sun transformed into a black ox and pursued him. The yellow ox became tired and jumped down a well to hide, but the black ox saw him and jumped in, too. Seeing this, the yellow ox jumped out again and escaped to T'an Chou where he resumed human form and lived with his lovely wife."

"Why didn't Sun follow him?" John demanded, irritated at both the interminable tale and its inconsistency of detail. "If
I
chased a yellow ox like that and had him trapped in a well, I'd keep my eye on him better than that!"

Meilan seemed to be on the verge of tears as the farmer remarked to John, "Perhaps you have better eyes than Sun. You would not be fooled by any disguise."

"Oh, go on with the story!"

"Sun, perceiving that Lang had gone, climbed out of the well, returned to town, and assumed human form. He located Lang's house and stood outside, addressing him in a severe tone of voice. 'Dragon, how dare you use a borrowed form, pretending to be a man?' But there was only the sound of Lang's children scurrying about the house in fright."

"His children!" John exclaimed. "How could he have children if he was really a dragon?"

The farmer gave him a knowledgeable look. "Dragons are quite virile creatures, in any form."

"That isn't—I mean, genetically—"

At that point the taxi appeared in the sky, heading for a landing in the park. Betsy was returning, and Yao Pei and Canute were still missing! To make it worse, the farmer saw it, too—and the three soldiers were running back toward the park. It would be impossible to wait.

"Canute!" John cried despairingly. "Canute! Come here!"

Dead fish flew up as the dog appeared, charging through the farmer's cart. Canute had been waiting for the call all the time!

"Into that craft!" John shouted at Meilan. "You, too, Canute." They all ran headlong for it as it landed.

For a sick moment John was afraid he'd left his ID in his Standard clothes, but he hadn't. He had hung on to it automatically, and the examiner who had helped him had not questioned it. After all, all Standards had ID's.

He held the key before him and Meilan and Canute struck the door almost together. The panel fogged to let them through, and they sprawled in a pile on the taxi floor. "Take it up!" John cried.

Acceleration sent them sprawling again. John banged his face against the wall and was oblivious to his surroundings temporarily. About the time he decided that his nose was bent but not broken, something else registered. There was one person too many in the taxi.

He sat up and looked about more alertly, and then gaped. "What are
you
doing here?"

The talkative peasant-farmer smiled. "So you would know a yellow ox?"

"Yao Pei!"

Then they all laughed while Canute licked the smell of fish from his fur. He had been buried under the livestock in the cart, where absolutely no one would care to look....

"Where to?" Betsy inquired.

"The enclave 0544071364," John said. "That should be where we'll find Humé, and Ala should be with him."

"Well, feed it in. You know I can't remember those numbers just like that." She turned to Meilan. "You must be—"

"Yes," Meilan said. "Is there a basin of water?"

"There's a Standard sanitary cubicle. I just figured out how to use it myself. Let me show you." The two girls stepped into the cubicle and sealed it off, leaving John alone with Pei.

John took care of the destination and waited for the taxi to adjust course and steady down. "It may be a while," he said. "Now, you sly chameleon,
finish that story
!"

Pei smiled, unperturbed. "Sun cried again: 'Come out, or I shall surely send soldiers in to kill you!' And he summoned spiritual soldiers to surround the house. Then Lang transformed back into the spiritual alligator and came out defiantly, thinking himself invulnerable to attack. But the immortal soldiers harassed him, and he flew away and was never seen again. Then Sun made Lang's two sons come out. He took a mouthful of water and spurted it on them, and both became young dragons who also fled. Finally Sun told Chia-yu to vacate the premises. He cast a spell on the house and it sank beneath the earth, leaving a lake where it had been. After that Hsu Chen-Chun Ching-Chih, known as Sun, assembled the members of his family, all forty-two of them, and they all ascended to heaven. Even the dogs and the chickens went along. Sun was then a hundred and thirteen years old. After that a temple was erected in honor of him."

"But what about the feast?" John demanded. "You said he feasted! That's what reminded you of the story, you claimed. But he didn't feast—he went to heaven!"

"So did we," Pei said blandly.

The girls came out. Meilan was much improved, now looking like neither aristocrat nor peasant girl, but very pretty.

"I'm starving!" Betsy said. "Can we put down somewhere for a meal?"

Yao Pei reached into his rags. Slowly he brought out a long-dead fish. "Build a fire," he said.

Canute snorted. Betsy looked annoyed, then reversed herself and laughed. "But I am hungry. If only—" She stopped. "What's that?"

John caught a motion from the edge of his vision. "Oh-oh. Our luck's run out."

Another sphere was following them, and it was gaining.

"Well, you couldn't expect to raid another enclave in a modern antigrav taxi without attracting attention," Betsy said, but her voice shook a little.

"The advantage lies with us," Pei said. "We should be able to outmaneuver them."

"I don't see that," John said. "This is an ordinary taxi, as far as we know. That may be a police-sphere, with more power. And they'll be skilled at handling it. And others may intercept us. We may have to drop to the ground and take our chances in a hostile terrain. They have the advantage, any way you figure it."