The Warlock Wandering (35 page)

but the vast majority will never be taught to read anything more than the directions on a food packet." Yorick nodded. "And, strangely, the children-of PEST

officials are already almost all included in that small number of 'very talented' chosen to go on in school."

"Despite the fact that some of their parents are total idiots," Chomoi said through clenched teeth. 276 Christopher Stasheff

Rod gazed at the manager. "You're taking quite a risk." Larn smiled. "I suppose a good lawyer could get me off. All those games out there are just machines. The customers may be learning, but nobody's teaching, right? And they don't leam very much, by the hour."

"Sure, but they spend so many hours at it, that they do leam!"

Lam nodded. "And will keep on learning, for the rest of their lives, I hope. Which is better than spending all their days without anything more than the primary education the law allows."

Rod frowned. "How many of them graduate from the games to the back room?"

"Only about twenty percent. Most of them are very satisfied with the games, which is why we have to keep thinking up more and more challenging ones. But between games, 3DT epics, and song cubes, I think we're getting a good, solid elementary education across to about a third of the population."

"Tis remarkable, surely," Gwen said, "yet can you teach them no more than that?"

Larn shook his head. "Not with the techniques we've worked out so far, though I understand some drunken poet Cholly knows, has come up with some new approaches to epics that're conveying abstract concepts. But the real limitation is learning how to reason—and that takes a live teacher to guide you."

"Yet ere thou canst so guide them, thou must needs bring them to this place of study."

Larn nodded. "The few who do develop real intellectual curiosity are quietly ushered back here to the books, where tutors can guide their reading and develop their thinking abilities through discussions. Education always comes down to the live teacher, right there with the student. Nothing can really replace the human mind."

"And once they have started learning to think," Rod

inferred, "they're not too apt to turn you in?"

"No, not terribly." Larn smiled. "But if they do, there's always that lawyer."

"The lawyer can't get you off if the case never goes to court though," Chornoi said softly.

Larn nodded again. "There is that little problem. PEST

intends to enforce the laws, even if they're not sure the person's guilty. And if they lock up one innocent man for every three guilty ones, who cares?"

"No one who counts," Rod growled.

"Which means no PEST officials," Chornoi added.

"Except. ",Yorick held up a forefinger. "Except that they're not going to lock 'em up—prisons cost too much. It's a lot cheaper to terminate them."

"Lends a wealth of new meaning to the term 'executive,'

doesn't it?" Larn gave him a bleak smile. "However, there is hope, if you can call it that. There're still a lot of jobs that're cheaper to do by hand than by machine—as long as the worker doesn't have to be paid."

"Convict labor." Yorick nodded, lips thin. "Well, it beats execution, I suppose."

"Don't be too sure. For myself, I'd rather not find out the hard way. So let's get you folks helped and moved on, shall we? From the 3DT bulletins, I gather the armsmen are after you, and I don't relish having them as patrons."

"They are," Yorick confirmed. "But behind them are the PEST spies. They're trying to eliminate us."

"Join the club," Larn snorted.

"I did." Chornoi's face was frozen. "But I began to realize that their 'more efficient government' was going to end up being total oppression, so I quit."

Larn shook his head. "Only one way out of the Security Service."

Chornoi nodded. "That's what they're trying for." Larn gazed at her. Then he gave a bleak smile. "Well, that explains it all nicely. Can't think what I can do to help, 278

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though; we can't hide you for more than a few hours—too risky. How about a quick makeup job?"

"That would help." Yorick nodded. "But what we really need, see, is to get into PEST'S central headquarters."

"What!!?!"

"I know, I know." Yorick held up a hand. "But we're stranded time-travelers, see, and we think PEST might have a time machine hidden away somewhere in the bowels of its labyrinth."

Lam just stared at him for a minute, then shrugged his shoulders. "Why not? I believe the masses can be educated, don't I? But they've got an outer wall and an inner wall, folks, and all the gates are guarded by lasers that fire if you don't push the right button. The landing pad on top of the building has blasters all around it, and a dozen live guards day and night. 1 could go on, but I think you get the point; the only way into PEST HQ is to be carried in... as a prisoner."

Yorick looked at Rod. Rod looked at Gwen. They both looked at Chomoi. All four swallowed heavily, and nodded.

"Okay," Yorick said. "How do we commit a crime?"

"We could have thought of this ourselves, you know," Chomoi growled as they walked down the concourse.

"But we didn't," Rod reminded her. "That shows we needed help."

^Chomoi shook her head. "1 still don't like it. Letting myself get caught goes against all my training."

"Yes, but this is a bright new innovation," Yorick pointed out. "This way, getting caught lets you keep control of the situation."

"Keep talking," Chomoi growled, "you may convince me."

Yorick shook his head. "No time. If we're gonna do it, we gotta do it now." He dropped back and, before the other three could quite realize what he was doing, he was pointing at them and shouting, "There they go!" Everyone walking on the concourse, in both directions, stopped and stared.

Rod felt the old sick sinking feeling in his stomach and the itch between his shoulder blades, where he just knew somebody was aiming a blaser. "Too late now," he growled.

"Gotta go through with it! Run.'"

They broke into a sprint.

Behind them, Yorick was shouting, "Get them! That's Public Enemy Number One—both of them! And Public Enemy Number Two! Haven't you seen them on 3DT?" But the passersby only stared at him, then at the fleeing trio. Fear haunted their eyes.

"Oh, f crying out softly!" Yorick growled. "If you want something done right..." And he ran after Rod and the ladies, howling, "Stop them! Stop!"

He'd managed to catch up to them before the Security Service finally showed up. Even then, not a bystander was doing anything but standing by—and most of them had just speeded up their walk a little, heads down, shoulders hunched.

But the Security Service finally did come swerving around a comer, and the ones in front dropped to one knee, aiming blasters.

"That's no good!" Rod yelped, and Gwen glared at the blasters long enough for her companions to charge. The armsmen almost started to retreat, taken by surprise—but then reflex took over as Yorick slammed a fist into an armsman's belly, and Chomoi aimed a chop at another's collarbone. They blocked out of sheer reflex, and their mates joined in.

Gwen caught up and spun, back-to-back with Rod, as he furiously blocked and punched. She managed to stop every blow aimed at his back, and if a slender lady's forearm shouldn't have been able to stop a blaster swung by the barrel, who noticed?

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Chomoi was chopping and kicking for all she was worth, and three guardsmen surrounded her at a respectful distance; but they were watching for an opening, and kept leaping in for a quick jab. Sometimes she caught them, but they were professionals, too.

Yorick grabbed an arm and a strap and threw an armsmen into one of his mates, but a third caught him with a forearm around the throat and yanked back. Yorick dropped to one knee and lurched back up, bowing, too fast for the armsman to counter. He sailed over Yorick's head, but another armsman slammed a haymaker into Yorick's face as he stood upOut of the comer of his eye. Rod saw Chomoi crumple. Apprehension gripped his belly as he thought. This is it, dear. Remember, knock ' em out if they try to kill us—or if they even get fresh!

Aye, my lord, her thought answered. She dropped her guard, closing her eyes, and started to fall just before the blow caught her. Then a sap cracked into Rod's skull, and searing pain heralded darkness.

He came to with a raging headache and a dry-sand thirst. He cracked his eyelids open in a squint, and looked around. All he saw was white tile, and the surface under him was cold, very cold. He rolled his head to the side, and saw Yorick and Chomoi strapped to steel slabs, wrists manacled up next to their heads. As he did, Chomoi blinked, squeezed her eyes shut, then strained them open. Beyond her, Yorick was watching him, looking surly.

Rod took a second while a huge burst of relief washed through him. Then he stared at Chomoi and raised one eyebrow in question. She squinted against pain, but she nodded. Beyond her, Yorick shrugged.

So. They were okay. Now the apprehension could claw loose. Where was Gwen? She was supposed to have stayed awake the whole time, faking unconsciousness.

He heard a soft moan behind him.

Rod turned his head quickly and winced at the pain, but opened his eyes wider.

He saw Gwen with her eyes closed. Frantically, he felt for her mind, and found it lulled, buffered, adrift on a sea of drugs.

Rage erupted in him, but he fought to hold it in. Not yet. Soon—but not yet. Not quite.

The anger abated a little, enough for him to notice a nearby voice saying, "But why didn't any of them use any of those tricks we've been hearing about?"

"They did," another voice snapped. "They froze the blasters."

"All right, so they did pull one. But just one! From what I've been hearing about this gang, they had a hundred gimmicks like that in their arsenal!"

"So they panicked," the second voice snarled. "Or maybe their tricks really were just a bunch of gadgets, no matter what superstitious claptrap you've been hearing!"

"Then where are they?"

"In a trash cycler, dodo! They ran out of power, and these yahoos threw them away! Now will you shut up and get busy finding out what they know about those gadgets?" The other man grumbled and turned. He saw three out of four looking at him, and stopped short. "Bruno!" Bruno turned. "What? Oh, they've come around! Well, isn't that cozy? Okay, folks, let me explain—you're going to tell us everything you know about those gadgets you used, especially that force-field generator and the invisibility field. And, of course, everything about this revolutionary underground you're working for. If you don't want to, you're going to go through an awful lot of pain, but you'll wind up telling us, don't doubt it."

"Wwwhy... why not use drugs?" Chomoi still squinted against a headache.

"Because it isn't as much fun." Bruno grinned. He looked up, and saw the direction of Rod's gaze. "No, don't go looking for any help from her! We got our doubts about 282 Christopher Stasheff THE WARLOCK WANDERING 283

her, so we did use drugs to knock her out. She won't wakr up for another dozen hours." He fell silent, eyes narrowing as he stared at Rod. Then he nodded and moved forward.

"We'll start with you—and the old-fashioned methods." Rod felt hands undoing his manacles. Frantically, he retreated inside his own mind, remembering the analogappearance his mind had given him for the inter-universal realm they'd traveled from Tir Chlis. He knew he only had a few seconds before the beating started, and with that kind of sensory stimulation, he'd never achieve a trance. But he made it—awareness of his body faded out as it was being lifted upright. Through the limbo about him, he reached out for the feel of Gwen's mind. There it was, a fragile hull on waters of Nepenthe, slumbering, removed. Gently, he moved closer, merged, melded, and moved inside. Waken, he thought. We're all done for if you don't. 1

might be able to handle them alone—but I might not. It hurt him to say it, but he had to.

Dimly, he felt a stirring; but she lapsed.

They could kill us, he thought. We might never waken. This time, there was response—the single thought. Together. Rod hauled back on the reins of exasperation, reminding himself that women's romanticism wasn't completely incurable. If that basic drive could be met in oblivion, there was one that couldn't. Grimly, he conjured up a vision of Magnus hugging a weeping Cordelia to him, while a glumlooking Geoffrey sat by, holding a dry-eyed but fearful Gregory. Alone, without us, he thought. Can you bear to leave them to strangers?

He had the impression of a titan, roaring up from the waters to look around. Then it clambered up, rage building into an avalanche.

Rod got out, and got out fast. Limbo seemed very safe suddenly.

But Gwen would awaken, and fight those sadists alone. He pulled himself back down, forced himself to become aware of his body...

And it hit. Pain. Every square inch of his body ached, and some of it seemed to bum. Instantly he was aware, seeing, as Bruno threw him back against the steel slab in disgust. "This is getting us nowhere! You'd swear the guy doesn't even have a mind! Go get the probes. Harry!" Rage built, at two brutes who would so maltreat a helpless body—Rod's helpless body! And they meant to do it to his friends, too—and his wife! The rage rose, and Rod welcomed it, reaching down into it for the power he needed... But beside him, manacles burst like grenades, and Gwen stepped away from her slab, fury fairly flaming from her. Bruno and Harry slammed into the wall, their bodies actually seeming to grow thinner for a moment before they slid to the ground.

Gwen turned, glaring in wrath. "They have hurt thee!" she cried, and began to touch and probe Rod's body. Wher-ever she laid her hand, the pain abated as the neurons stopped firing. But even as she did it, howls of agony filled the air, then were still.

Chomoi stared in horror. "What the hell was that?"

"Folk who watched us, unseen," Gwen answered. "What thou dost hear came through a device they had, should they need to speak to those within this chamber. They sleep now, of course."