Robert Charrette - Arthur 01 - A Prince Among Men (27 page)

"And what do we want with you? That was your next question, wasn't it? You can relax, Reddy. As far as I know, you and Black are only coincidentally involved in this. We're really interested in Bear here, because he's what you heard the Mitsutomo people call a sleeper." Bear glared suspiciously at Holger, a look Holger found politic to ignore. Procedure required that an alleged sleeper be treated deferentially at all times. "Bear appears to have something to do with a rather famous sleeper. He may even be the man himself. Either way, we're very interested in him."

"What sort of interest, Mr. Kun?" Bear's growling voice made it clear that he didn't like unspecified
interest
in himself.

Holger put on his best "we're-all-in-this-together" face. Spae was the one who should be handling this part; she was the one who liked talking about it. But an agent had to do what he had to do. If Bear was Arthur, he had to be kept

friendly.

"You've all had firsthand experience with the way the world's been changing of late. You know these aren't ordinary changes. Phenomena that have no rational explanation are occurring, and things which appear supernatural are being encountered. It is most distressing. We believe that, somehow, the awakening of sleepers is connected to these ... anomalies."

"It is not my doing," said Bear.

"No, sir, not directly." At least, not intentionally. If it were ... "Have you heard the phrase 'once and future king'?"

"White's nonsense?"

"Then you've read some of the legends?"

"I think the phrase is 'don't believe everything you read.'"

A cautious and inconclusive answer. Best to continue friendly. "And yet it seems that there is a kernel of truth at the heart of the legends. Many of the myths about King Arthur say that he isn't dead, but only sleeping; lying adream until such time as Ms people need him again. There are many other legends about other men, other heroes, which say that they, too, lie sleeping until there is dire need for them. Such legends may be found all over the world. Like you, some of those other heroes are awake now, displaced like you from their own times."

Bear looked thoughtful, Reddy stunned; but Black, curiously enough, didn't look as though Holger's words were news. That would bear investigating.

"Who are these others?" Bear asked.

"In time, you'll meet them." One way or another. "But for the moment there are some important questions to wMch we need answers. Can you tell me who called you forth and, more important, why?"

"She called herself Nym," Reddy volunteered.

"She was the woman the Mitsutomo people showed you the picture of?" Reddy nodded. Holger didn't like the implications of that. If the corporates knew more about this woman than the Department did... "Bear, what did she tell you?"

"I didn't get a chance to speak to her."

"So you don't know anything about her, or her reasons for waking you?"

Bear hesitated for a moment, then said firmly, "No."

The hesitation made Bear's assertion play like honest truth; a plant trying to mislead them wouldn't have wanted them to suspect that he was concealing knowledge. Perhaps Hear was a real sleeper; ignorance of the reason for their awakening was characteristic among the sleepers. Some thought they knew, but their reasoning rarely held water in the here and now; old enemies and older ways of thinking had no relevance in the modern world. Bear might be one of those deluded ones or he might be one who knew more than he thought he knew; that kind took a lot of careful questioning before anything useful came out.

"What
do you
know about her?" Bear asked.

"Not knowing her identity for sure, I can't say. If you'd be willing to try to identify her from some pictures, I might be able to tell you something." Both Bear and Reddy nodded in agreement. Cooperative. Good. Best not to lead them to expect too much; bait-and-switch might satisfy the kid, but it would lose the warrior. Policy said tell sleepers nothing till the experts were there, but Holger knew he needed to win this one's confidence. "But even then, I probably won't be able to tell you much. We are still in the dark as to how sleepers are woken, but we know it's happening. Most of the legends connected with these sleepers say that they will wake to face some great danger. Although my superiors do not agree on the nature of the danger, it is clear from the I acts of the awakenings we know about that there is a widespread danger. If the legends are true."

Bear stared at him. "Do you have any idea what this danger is?"

"Yes, I do," was all Holger was willing to say, especially nice he could hear Spae coming down the stairs. She might not be a policy slave, but she was the local "expert" and she didn't like people stepping on her prerogatives. As she came into the kitchen, he said, "Gentlemen, this is Dr. Spae, my associate. Dr. Spae is a specialist, which is a euphemism in my department for someone who deals in anomalies."

Spae ran her gaze over Holger's acquisitions. Her expression made it clear that she didn't like what she saw.

"So where's Arthur?"

Bear snorted. "I don't think this is going to work out, Kun."

"Give her a chance. You don't exactly match your PR." To Spae, he said, "Be nice, Doctor. I've told this gentleman that you can help him get to something he has mislaid."

"What's pea are?" Bear asked.

It was Spae's turn to snort. Bear didn't take it kindly. "I did not come here to be the object of your derision, woman."

To Holger's surprise, Spae didn't bristle. Instead she dropped into scientist mode. "By which reaction I assume you are supposed to be the sleeper."

"That's what they tell me," Bear said in & surprisingly tolerant tone.

"You don't remember much about it?"

"I have a very good memory."

"Good. Can you tell me about the transition?"

"Yes. But why should I?"

"Hostility is understandable. Culture shock. But we're all your friends here, and we want to help you." Spae's reassurances sounded automatic to Holger, and from Bear's expression he wasn't impressed either. "But in order to help you, I need to know some tilings. For example, have you been vaccinated for anthrax?"

"Explain what you're talking about, and maybe I can answer your question; though why I should be bothered escapes me."

"Where did you go to school?"

"To what?"

"Who trained you?"

With a slight smile, he said, "The books say Merlin the Magician."

"You can read?"

"These days."

"Good," Spae murmured to herself. "Very good. Given the time since transition, the mix of language acclimatization and ignorance is credible. But the Mitsutomo people could know enough to fake that. A few tests should clear it up." "I did not come here to take tests," Bear said, obviously having heard Spae as clearly as Holger had.

"Yes, yes. We've established the attitude." She dismissed the concept with a wave of her hand. "Anybody could guess that as a likely attribute. What's your name?"

"They call me Bear."

"No, not your street name. What did they call you when you last walked the earth?"

"Same thing, different language." Annoyance had crept back into Bear's voice.

"What language?"

"1 don't know what you call it."

"What name, then?"

"Artos."

"Artos."

Spae was quiet for a moment.

"It correlates with the time frame of the artifacts. A good detail." Something uncertain crept into her manner. "Could you actually be him?"

Bear said nothing.

Faced with his silence, Spae seemed taken aback, even a little awed. Quietly she asked, "Did you know Meliadus? Who were your
comitesT

"What does it matter?" Bear frowned. "I'm me, not the man you think you know about. This King Arthur legend you all are so wild about is nonsense."

"Not completely, or you wouldn't be here," Holger pointed out.

"I'm not involved in whatever this is," Bear said.

"The choice has been made for you," Holger told him.

Bear gave him a long look. "You remind me of someone I used to know." His tone didn't suggest a flattering memory.

Holger smiled at him.

Spae said, "I still need to do some tests."

"Tests can wait, Doctor," Holger told her.

"A very long time, Doctor," Bear said. "Mr. Kun promised me help. I don't consider making me submit to your tests to be help."

Eyeing Holger distrustfully, Spae asked, "What sort of help?"

"A matter of finding something called Caliburn," Holger said.

"Oh, my G—" She blinked rapidly several times. "Caliburn is real?"

"As real as I am, Doctor." Bear seemed to be enjoying Spae's shocked reaction. "Mr. Kun told me that you'd be able to help me recover it."

"I— Why—I—"

"Articulate, ain't she?" Black said.

"Shall I inform headquarters that we will be—"

She cut Holger off by grabbing his arm.

"You do and I'll shrivel your balls." To herself she said,. "Cut me off, will they? Backwater, eh?" She smiled broadly at Bear. "There are some things I'll need to know in order to help you."

"I'll just bet," he said.

Jut they talked long into the night.

CHAPTER
16

With Kun and Spae paying almost all their attention to Bear, there wasn't a lot for John and Trashcan Harry to do. The townhouse was well supplied with a library of vidbooks and games, but Trashcan wasn't very interested in games and when John finally convinced him to play, he was a poor opponent. After the second match John gave up, and Harry occupied the television with some of the more violent selections among the movies, leaving John to himself. John tried reading, but nothing seemed to hold his interest. Maybe it was the company, maybe it was just being inside the town-house for two solid days and Holger's regular pronouncement that it was best if they not go outside.

John got very bored.

But fugitives hiding out at safe houses need food, and the place apparently hadn't been stocked with people of Bear and Harry's appetites in mind. The stocks of fresh stuff started to run low. John suggested that he make a food run. To his surprise, Kun consented. The EC agent even suggested that Trashcan Harry go along. John was in such a rush to get outside that he almost left without the debit card that Kun offered him to pay for the groceries.

Within ten minutes of the asking, they were out and headed for the store that Kun's directions said was about half a mile away. The spring sun was warm, taking the chill out of the breeze. John was happy to be out in it, even though the coat Kun had given him to replace his leather jacket was a little heavy for the afternoon's temperature.

Before they'd gone a block, Faye reported that Kun was following. John didn't care; he was just happy to be out of the house. He was even happier to be in a neighborhood where he didn't always have to look over his shoulder to make sure no one was sneaking up on him to mug him. Let Kun follow them. If there were any muggers, he could deal with them.

Shopping the supermarket reminded him of hitting the grocer in the old rezcom.

Which reminded him of his mom.

The charm of the expedition evaporated and John's mood went dark. Trashcan Harry looked hurt when John snapped at him, but John wasn't about to explain or apologize. By the time they finished shopping, John had forced his mind back to the present and had begun to enjoy being outside again.

He felt the sting on his neck about the same time he heard Faye's warning, but by then it was too late. He turned and saw Trashcan Harry slap at his neck. The bag Harry was carrying crashed to the ground.

Run, John!

John didn't feel like running. He felt like sleeping. Odd thing to do in the middle of the street. Still, he really felt like sleeping.

No, John. You 've got to run!

"Go away, Faye."

He was amused by the rhyme. Sleepily amused. He was too detached to do more than smile. He was drifting off, oddly comfortable on the concrete. Too tired to even wonder why Trashcan Harry was standing over him and growling at somebody.

As soon as the policeman left, Holger saw that the tracers were dead. He crumpled the citation for an allegedly inoperable turn signal and ran back the monitor record. The blips last showed at a location a couple of blocks away, so he checked it out on foot. The location was at the intersection of a street running behind the market and a service road that ran into an industrial park, a low-traffic area with few people about.

There was nothing unusual to be seen.

The wind was picking up, plucking at his jacket. Holger stepped into the lee of the industrial park's sign. No, nothing. They might have just disappeared into thin air. He shuddered.

The wind was still tugging at him, which annoyed him; the sign should be protecting him. He put annoyance aside and scanned the area. His eyes fell on a scrap of grocery bag. While he watched, the flimsy plastic fluttered up and away, heading toward a line of trees with uncanny directness. The scrap hit one of the trees and hung there.