Flinx's Folly (15 page)

She was pleasant enough toward him, especially as time passed and he made no mention of the uncomfortable confrontation that had taken place in her codo. Some of her old affection for him returned. Pleased, he did everything possible to encourage her. He even managed a genial word or two when she announced that she would be unable to see him because she would be attending to Lynx’s needs. He lied, in short, with consummate skill.

A week later he found himself on the same path through the city park that the two of them had strolled on so often during the past year. This time, he was alone. Clarity was with her psychologically damaged charge. What they were talking about, he didn’t know. What they might be doing, he fought manfully not to imagine.

It was late and the park was no longer crowded. Constrained by municipal regulations, the majority of self-animated drifting advertisements had long since shut down for the night, returning to their camouflaged charging stations like so many diurnal birds. With the return of the sun the following morning they would resume their hard or soft sells, depending on the product they happened to be programmed to hawk. To sleep, perchance to harangue.

Two men sat munching self-warming bags of Frair on the other side of the Tavares-Cellini fountain. Graphic water from the fountain reached toward them with misty tentacles, to moisten slightly without making too much contact. They ignored the aqueous aesthetics in single-minded pursuit of their late-night snacking.

One was almost as tall as Clarity’s friend. His thick, muscular torso rested atop a pair of spindly legs. With his equally long, heavy arms and narrow, raptorish face, he looked top-heavy and as if he might topple over if he tried to stand. His companion was nearly as tall and resembled a cartoonist’s sketch of a human being: all balloons and circles, as if every part of his body had been puffed up with air. When he rose, however, none of the concentric folds of his great mass rolled or jiggled. The outward appearance of obesity was a sham. The man was buffed up, not puffed up.

It seemed unlikely that any other pair of male visitors to the Tavares-Cellini fountain at this hour would half so well fit the profile of the two men Ormann sought. The nearest glanced challengingly in his direction. The stare was quietly arrogant, designed to fend off a casual approach.

“I’m the oar man for the boat,” Bill informed them in a noncommittal tone. If he was wrong and these two were not the right ones, they would think him no more than a harmless idiot: something even contemporary Commonwealth society had not been able to eliminate.

The muscular man nodded. Neither man made any move to rise from their bench, nor did they make room for him.

Ormann was not offended. So much the better. He had not sought out the services of men like these in the hope they would prove conventionally polite. “Did our mutual friend explain what I need?”

The two men exchanged a glance. Top-heavy replied, “You have a problem with a visitor who’s spending too much time with your woman.”

Ormann smiled thinly. “She’s not mine yet, but things aren’t progressing toward that end as smoothly as I’d like.”

“Because of this visitor.”

Ormann nodded. “I was told you and your friend work quickly and efficiently.”

A smile cracked the raptor’s visage. “We’re not rated by the Nurian Consumer Network, but we know what to do. What you want sounds fairly straightforward.”

“It would be.” He waited while a meandering couple moved past and out of earshot. “Except that the visitor, like my lady, has an Alaspinian flying snake. They’re empathetic telepaths. So if the visitor feels threatened, his pet senses it and reacts accordingly.”

The mass of muscle frowned. “It’s dangerous then, this flying snake?”

“Lethal,” Ormann replied somberly, “and lightning fast. You’re dead before can you draw a bead on it with even a lightweight weapon. Or so I’m told. I’ve never actually seen it in action.”

Wiping crumbs from his mouth with the back of his thick forearm, the big man frowned at his partner. “Don’t like this. We were told there was one disrespectful young guy who needed enlightening. Nothing was said about lethal flying creatures.”

“I’ve thought of a way to deal with it.”

Raptor face was already thinking of solutions. “Set up and detonate a kill from a distance or by timer.”

Ormann shook his head. “Too extreme. No way of being sure about the consequences. And there’s always the chance some fool bystander ends up in the wrong place at the wrong time and gets hurt. Then the authorities come into it and things could get awkward. Besides, I don’t really want him dead—just scared off.” He smiled wolfishly. “He’s so relaxed and sure of himself it shouldn’t be a problem to bring off what I have in mind. He feels completely secure whenever that minidrag of his is riding his shoulder. Which is, as near as I’ve been able to determine, constantly.”

“Then how do we get to him without getting bit?” raptor face wanted to know.

“The minidrag doesn’t bite; it spits venom. But it won’t get the chance. I’ve arranged for the delivery of a special package. It will be addressed from the woman who’s involved, so I know the kid will accept it. The package will contain a powerful soporific. Even if he has an unusually strong constitution, it should put both him and his pet out for an hour. You two can move in at your leisure, pack him up, take him someplace quiet and isolated, and finish your job.”

Man mountain looked thoughtful. “What if he don’t open the package? What if he scans it and sees that the contents are suspicious?”

“The contents won’t be suspicious because there won’t be any of consequence.” Ormann felt more than a little pleased with himself. “There’ll be nothing inside but stuffing. The soporific will be infused into the packaging itself. I managed to obtain a DNA sample from one of his hairs. The packaging material is keyed to him alone. As soon as he touches the package, the wrapping will disintegrate, releasing the soporific. There’ll be enough of it and it will be strong enough so that, even if he’s faster thinking than I believe he is, he won’t have time to do anything. It will be sufficient to saturate the hotel room he’s staying in, which means that even if the minidrag isn’t on his shoulder but is somewhere else in the room, it will still be rendered unconscious. The agent will dissipate in five minutes, so you’ll be able to enter the room almost immediately after he handles the package.”

“Better be.” The big man shifted on the bench, which groaned beneath his weight. “I’m not dealing with any poisonous offworld pet.”

Ormann reassured him. “All you’ll have to do is walk in, bag him, and take him to wherever it is you take those who have been consigned to your care. Leave the flying snake behind, blow its malicious little scaly head off, tie its wings to its body and toss it out the nearest window—whatever you want. It’s the kid I’m interested in.”

Raptor face nodded. “How interested?”

“I told you.” After another glance around the park, Ormann leaned toward them. In the pale amber light from the park’s glowfloats his expression was as twisted as his words. “Scare him. Frighten him so that when he regains consciousness the first thing he’ll want to do is leave Nur and never come back. You don’t have to be explicit about the reason. Tell him he’s made enemies who don’t want him here. Tell him nothing. I leave the details up to you. Mess up his face and anything else you think appropriate for a guy who’s trying to steal another man’s woman.

“Oh, and one more thing. He’s too tall. Break his knees. Both of them.” His expression contorted into a smile. “I’ll be the first one to convey my outrage and sympathy to him—while he’s recovering in the hospital.”

Raptor face was neither impressed nor dismissive. This was, after all, part and parcel of the nature of doing his kind of business, and he and his partner had been through it all many times before. Even in paradise, there were parasites.

“Sounds like you went through a lot of trouble to work up that sleep-inducing packaging. Pretty clever. We might hit you up for the formulation.”

Ormann nodded agreeably. He was very pleased with the way the meeting had gone. It had all been very businesslike. “I’ll be glad to provide you with the necessary information. That’s what comes of working for a firm that does a lot of gengineering work. You have access to tools and methods usually denied to the general public. Not that I’m looking to establish some kind of long-term relationship with you two.”

“Hey, you never know.” It was raptor face’s turn to grin suggestively. “Someday you might find someone else hanging on to the rung of the corporate ladder above you. Easy enough to remove the somebody while leaving the rung in place.”

Having concluded both their business and their snacks, the two men rose to depart. They stood close to Ormann, who all but disappeared in the larger man’s shadow. Suddenly, they did not look quite so businesslike, quite so serene and rational. Conscious of his isolation and the lateness of the hour, he was suddenly anxious to be detached from their company.

“Hope this woman is worth it.” Man mountain belched softly and tapped his chest with a fist the size of a ripe melon. As discreetly as he could manage, Ormann turned away from the oral discharge.

“She is.”

“When do you want it done?” Ormann noticed raptor face’s upper incisors had been replaced with replicants of anodized titanium alloy. He hadn’t noticed it before as the man was not prone to smiling.

“As soon as possible,” Ormann told him tightly. “Tomorrow.”

Man mountain shook his head slowly. “Huh-uh. Tomorrow’s my day to visit my ex-wife and kids. How about the day after?”

“Fine.” Ormann held his temper. “Like I said, as soon as possible. The package is already made up, and I’ll provide you with the location. We’ll coordinate the timing.”

Raptor face shrugged. “At your convenience. You’re paying enough.”

Ormann nodded and walked away. Halfway around the fountain, he looked back and mouthed the words that had given him more pleasure than anything else he had uttered in a long time: “Remember—
both
knees!”

CHAPTER

9

As with every day he was not going to spend with Clarity, Flinx had no idea what to do with himself. She did have to do some actual work once in a while, she had told him with a smile. But tonight they were, as had become an enjoyable habit, having dinner together. He had that much to look forward to.

Not that New Riviera lacked diversions to occupy his body as well as his mind. From the conveniently modest-sized seas to the spackling of clear blue lakes, from rolling hills to dramatic yet easily negotiable mountains and everything in between, there were plenty of natural attractions to keep the interested visitor occupied. Then there were the cultural temptations, from museums and creative displays to theme parks and other amusement venues as sophisticated and enticing as any in the Commonwealth.

None of them interested Flinx. Already in his young life, he had seen and experienced sights that even designers of extreme entertainments could not begin to imagine. He was interested only in Clarity—in her ability to listen to him, to draw him out, to empathize and understand.

That she was beautiful and had once been in love with him had nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with it.

Dinner was hours away. He had a day to kill. Sphene’s famous musiceaum, where, by means of direct cranial induction, composers turned musical inspiration into solid sculpture and painting, still beckoned. Not only did everyone insist it was an interesting place to visit, he was curious to try his hand at the technically sophisticated compositional technique himself. Certainly he had been exposed to a sufficiently wide range of music and natural sounds. What a cerebrally coupled transmogrifier might make of his insights and experiences might make for interesting viewing.

He had dressed and performed his few simple ablutions when the hotel door announced the receipt of a package for him. Knowing that hotel security would automatically have vetted any delivery before transferring it to a guest’s room, he did not hesitate to acknowledge receipt. The small box was waiting for him outside his door.

He brought it inside and studied it curiously. Taking no chances, hotel security or no hotel security, he removed a small device from one belt pouch and passed it over the package. The readings were negative. Satisfied, he removed the outer plasticine wrapping to reveal a second casing of paper. To his surprise, it disintegrated on contact with his fingers. Shoddy material, an intentional surprise, or . . . ?

Flinx had survived as long as he had because, among other things, he was exceedingly wary of surprises. But this time he wasn’t fast enough. The package’s inner wrapping turned into a colorless, odorless gas. He managed a few steps before he collapsed.

Sensing her master’s distress, Pip shot across the room. Hovering above Flinx’s body, she remained airborne for a few seconds before fluttering down to a rough landing against his back. There she lay, unmoving and silent, eyes closed, tongue retracted.

Five minutes passed. At the sixth, the door clicked several times as its security seal was professionally breached. It swung open to admit two men. Closing the door behind him, raptor face studied the two unconscious forms with professional detachment.

“The salivating stoink was as good as his word.” Pushing aside the hotel delivery cart they had brought with them, man mountain knelt to take the unconscious man’s pulse. “Sleep mode.” He indicated the motionless flying snake. “Looks to be in the same state.” Taking an impermeable, acid-resistant sack from the pouch slung over his shoulder, he picked up the flying snake by its tail and dropped it into the bag. “Stoink said we could do whatever we want with the pet. Me, I say sell it. If it’s as rare as he claimed, we ought to be able to get a decent few credits for it.”

Raptor face wasn’t convinced. “Stoink said they bond tightly with their owners.”

His companion shrugged his vast shoulders. “Not our problem, is it? That problem belongs to anybody who buys it.”