Runner (17 page)

“Many observers, including myself, believe that his original intentions were good. By tying the worlds together, Hios was creating the means by which mankind could take what he called ‘the next step,' to a higher level of civilization. Or that's what he said.

“But, you're probably familiar with the old saying that ‘absolute power corrupts absolutely,' and such was the case. Over a period of about ten years the emperor's decisions became so self-serving, and so capricious, that many thought him mad. A resistance movement was born, heretofore obsolete spaceships were refitted, and rebellious runners began to carry messages back and forth between the planets.

“Runners like
you!
” Lee said proudly, his hand tugging at Rebo's jacket.

“Yes,” Fil agreed, as he resumed his narration. “And Hios was angered by such activity. So angered that the runner's guild was outlawed, star gates were used to deliver nuclear weapons onto rebel planets, and entire cities were leveled. The citizenry rose up, or tried to, but thanks to his ever-growing network of portals Hios could move his brutal security troops around very quickly, and the resistance fighters lost every battle. Finally, when things were so dark that it seemed that all hope was lost, it was a member of the emperor's own family who brought the madness to an end.”

Norr remembered what Lysander had said, that
she
was the one who had ended the emperor's life, and felt a chill run down her spine. Rebo remembered, too—and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

The AI had no way to know about the sensitive's relationship to Hios and continued his narration. “No one witnessed the murder, but it's said the emperor's daughter left her quarters via an open window, negotiated the ledge that ran the circumference of the building, and jumped down onto her father's private balcony.”

Although Norr had entered trancelike states thousands of times during her lifetime, she had never experienced anything like what happened next. Instead of stepping halfway out of her body, as she normally did, the sensitive
found herself entering
another
vehicle, one that felt different. It was smaller, but very athletic, something she gave thanks for as her feet smacked against the stone tiles of her father's balcony.

Outside of the door to his private suite, which was heavily guarded, the balcony represented the only other entrance to her father's bedroom. So far so good. But could she complete the task she had assigned herself? Her father was clearly evil, so the justification was there, as was the need to take action. Because no one except for a member of the emperor's immediate family would have the opportunity to kill him. Not with combat variants guarding him around the clock.

But to sneak into his bedroom, tiptoe up to his bed, and sink a knife into her own father? That was a lot to ask of any daughter, even one who was ashamed of what had been done in her family's name and desperately wanted the horror to end.

Still, that was the task that Princess Cara had set for herself, and that was what she was determined to accomplish no matter the price. High-quality synsilk whispered softly as the young woman made her way to the entrance, tried the handle, and felt it give. The well-lubricated hinges were silent as the door swung open and she entered the cavernous bedroom. She paused, listened for signs of alarm, but heard none. Light, such as it was, emanated from the slightly luminescent baseboard that circled the room.

Then, having removed the hunting knife from the sheath strapped to her thigh, the princess advanced on the bed. There were two forms under the covers, one of which represented her father, while the other belonged to whatever woman he had chosen to sleep with the evening before. Just the latest in a long string of lovers he had taken since his wife's death three years earlier.

A dozen steps carried Cara to her father's bedside. He was snoring gently as she raised the knife into the air; but then, just as she was about to plunge the blade into his unprotected chest, the emperor gave a sudden snort and his eyelids fluttered. He must have been able to see her in the dim light, because his eyes widened, and he spoke. “Cara? Is that you? What are you doing?”

Norr heard her previous self say, “I'm sorry,” as she brought the weapon straight down. Her father produced a grunt of expelled air as the steel entered his chest, arched his back, and shuffled his feet. That was when the woman lying at his side awoke, saw Cara jerk the bloody blade out of her lover's chest, and screamed. The noise brought two combat variants into the room. They saw the assassin and opened fire.

Rebo felt Norr jerk as if something had struck her, saw her eyes pop open, and realized that while he had been listening to Fil she had been somewhere else. “Lanni? Are you all right?”

Norr, who was surprised to discover that she was still alive, nodded weakly. “What Fil said is true. I killed my father.”

“
You
killed him?” Lee asked, his eyes huge. “I'm sorry.”

“So am I,” Norr replied sadly, patting the boy on the shoulder.

“Well, no one else was,” Fil commented emotionlessly. “Once the word of Hios's death got out there was dancing in the streets—and that was the beginning of the end. The emperor's son tried to hold the Imperium together, but he wasn't up to the job, and the whole structure came apart. Mobs located and destroyed most of the star gates, not to mention the AIs who operated them, and a new government came to power. It lasted fifty-four years before it was replaced
by what amounted to a technocracy, the same one that built a fleet of sentient starships to replace the star gates.”

“So, what happened to Logos?” Rebo inquired pragmatically. “Lysander, that is to say Hios, told us that Logos is too smart to let himself be destroyed by a mob. Would you agree with that?”

“Logos is, or was, extremely intelligent,” Fil agreed. “But that doesn't mean that he survived. After all, we Gate Keepers were pretty smart, too, and most of us were destroyed. Still, I have no hard evidence regarding a termination, so there's no way to know.”

“Let's say he's alive,” Norr put in. “Where would he be?”

“That's hard to say,” the AI replied cautiously, “but I can tell you this . . . The last directive I received from him originated from Etu.”

“That's where we're going!” Lee said brightly. “Just before Thara.”

“Maybe, and maybe not,” the runner responded, frowning to signal his displeasure regarding the information that Lee had unintentionally divulged. “Well, thank you very much. You have been most helpful.” The threesome made their way out through what remained of the ancient star gate and into the basement beyond.

Meanwhile, back in the archive, Wiley scowled and made a note to redouble his efforts to find the AI's central processing unit as he locked the door behind them. He should spend the rest of the morning reading, the archivist knew that, but decided on a nap instead. After all, he reasoned, the manuscripts stacked all around him had been there for hundreds of years. A few additional hours wouldn't make any difference.

The lock made a gentle
click
as the key turned, the door
opened, and the lights came on as four heavily armed men
burst into the suite. Rebo awoke, and was in the process or reaching for his handgun, when two of the intruders entered the bedroom that he and Lee shared. “Hold it right there,” one of them shouted, and pointed a double-barreled shotgun at the runner. Rebo held both hands up and away from his body.

Lee was frightened, but determined not to show it, and sat huddled on the couch where he had been sleeping. His eyes were big, but his mouth formed a straight line, and the runner felt proud of him. Especially since it seemed reasonable to assume that the men were there to kidnap the boy on behalf of the black hats.

But that assumption soon proved to be incorrect as Rebo came to realize that both intruders wore military uniforms, and a voice was heard from the next room. “All right! We have her! Time to pull out.”

The soldier nearest the door backed through it, but the man with the scattergun remained where he was. Rebo wanted to go to Norr's aid, but the twin shotgun barrels looked like railway tunnels. The intruder seemed to read his mind. “There's nothing to worry about. Prince Palo would like to meet your wife. No harm will come to her and she will be compensated for her time. Once the audience is over we will bring her here. In the meantime I suggest that you go back to sleep.”

Having provided what he believed to be comforting words, the soldier backed out of the room and closed the door behind him. The outer door slammed a few seconds later, and Rebo knew that the intruders were gone. The runner swore bitterly as he grabbed his weapon, swung his feet out onto the carpet, and left the bedroom to confirm what he already knew. Norr was gone.

Lee watched solemnly from across the room as Rebo returned. “Are you going after her?”

The runner was pulling his trousers on by then. He shook his head. “I can't. But I am going to go down and have a conversation with the desk clerk. Somebody gave those bastards a key to the front door. I want to know why.”

Lee frowned. “Why not? Go after her I mean.”

“Well, there's my responsibility to you for starters,” Rebo replied. “Plus, judging from what the guy with the shotgun had to say, the Shah's son is the one who put the snatch on her. What am I supposed to do? Attack his palace?”

“Lanni wouldn't abandon
you,
” Lee objected as he pulled his clothes on. “And don't use me as an excuse! I'm going after her, so if you intend to guard me, you're coming, too.”

Rebo stopped what he was doing to look at the boy. His eyes narrowed. “You promised to obey me and to do so without question. That means you're staying right here.”

“No,”
Lee replied defiantly, “I promised to obey you so long as your instructions were consistent with moral law. This one isn't.”

“The soldier said they would return her safe and sound.”

“And maybe they will,” Lee responded, as he laced his boots, “but anything can happen when Lanni goes into a trance. Nobody knows that better than you do. I want my knives.”

There was something different about the way that the youngster spoke. He sounded like a man rather than a boy. Rebo frowned. “Your knives? You haven't worn them since the fight on the spaceship.”

“That's right,” Lee said determinedly, “but I'm going wear them now.”

The runner thought about what that implied. Lanni
meant so much to Lee that he was not only willing to defy his bodyguard but to kill in order to protect the sensitive. Because she had become a sort of mother figure? Because he had a crush on her? It hardly mattered. Rebo nodded grudgingly. “All right, have it your way. The knives are in my pack. But don't go off half-cocked! If we're going to commit suicide, we'll do it my way. Understood?”

Suddenly the man was gone and the little boy had returned. Lee grinned. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Rebo replied gruffly. “Get a shirt on. We have work to do.”

A partially clothed Norr was still kicking and struggling as
she was carried out into the guild's lobby, past the worried-looking desk clerk, through security, and into an elevator. That particular car had been taken out of service by a frightened maintenance man who hurried to close the door once the sensitive and her abductors were safely aboard. He turned a key, and the ancient box-shaped container shuddered slightly as it began its descent.

Then, tired of trying to restrain the woman without striking her, the soldiers put her down. “Here,” a noncom said, as he shoved a wad of the woman's clothing at her. “You're going to have an audience with the prince, so you might want to get dressed.”

That was when Norr remembered that all she had on was a short-sleeved pullover shirt and a pair of panties. A fact that wasn't lost on the other soldiers, all of whom had taken the opportunity to ogle her long, slender legs.

The sensitive managed to resist the temptation to try and cover what the soldiers had already seen and sorted through the ball of clothing that had been thrust at her. Finally, after dumping most of the items onto the floor, she assembled a
halfway-decent outfit. Norr was just about to get dressed when the elevator coasted to a stop. “So,” the sensitive demanded, “what's it going to be? Should I finish dressing here? Or are you going to march a half-naked woman out through the lobby? That should start some interesting rumors about the prince.”

The noncom looked annoyed. “Go ahead and finish. Hurry it up though . . . We haven't got all night.”

Norr frowned and folded her arms across her chest. “I'll start the minute that you and your men leave the elevator.”

The noncom started to object, appeared to think better of it, and gestured toward the open door. “You heard the lady . . . Wait outside.”

The soldiers left, the sensitive ordered the maintenance man to close the door, and proceeded to glare at him until he turned his back. She tried the same technique on the noncom, but he'd been around for a while, and didn't trust the variant farther than he could throw a howitzer. “You haven't got anything I haven't seen before. Now get on with it.”