Race Against Time (11 page)

"I know which one is Ala's," John said, "but she won't be there; she'll be with Humé. So there's no point in—"

"But we can't assume the
other
coordinate is Humé's," Pei said. "It might be Meilan's or—"

"No," Meilan said. "It is Humé's."

"That's an interesting confusion," Pei said. "We do know where we're going, but perhaps the Standards don't. They may know we have coordinates. If we set down first at the wrong one...."

"It'll act as a diversion! Canute and I did that before, and it seemed to work."

"Perhaps you should go to Ala's enclave, then," Pei said. "I will go to Humé's."

So Pei was volunteering, too, when it counted. John was both disappointed and relieved. He had wanted to find Ala himself, but he didn't want to undertake another tense search so soon after the last. "Good enough. Let's break out the paste and spray so we can convert to Standard in a pinch—"

"I don't think they'll be fooled that way again," Betsy said. "And you already have two layers of color on you. It might start peeling or something."

"I suppose so. All right; let's make this look good. Drop me about five miles north of the enclave, so I seem to be sneaking in. Come back a couple of hours later five miles south of it; that's when we don't want Standards watching."

"You'll need more than two hours, then," Betsy said. "You can't go ten miles on foot
and
search the enclave in that time."

"Make it four hours, then. And—what time of day is it? At night we could make a quick light...."

"We won't know the time until we get there," Betsy said. "It might be halfway round the planet on the dark side."

"And Humé's enclave might be another half-planet from
that!
This is getting complicated!"

"Perhaps we must revise our plan again," Pei said. "We must be certain of our two remaining purebreds."

John sighed. "Yes. Drop me at Humé's. Then if you can't check the other enclave in time, come back. Our timing must be right."

"We will set down again five—is it miles?—south," Pei said. "Or at dusk, whichever comes later."

"I can estimate the miles," Betsy said. "It won't be exact either time, but if he makes a light—are there flashlights here?"

They checked. There were none.

Now the taxi was entering the storm region. Wind and rain buffeted it, and the pursuing craft were soon hidden.

"I hope this is half as difficult for them as it is for us!" John said. "I'll look for a light in the enclave. If nothing else, I'll make a fire. Somehow."

"Suppose it doesn't work?" Betsy asked. "I mean, if you can't find them, or you can't make a light, or the Standards catch on...."

"If there's any trouble, don't even try to pick me up. No sense in having us
all
caught. I can try to trek overland to another rendezvous. Uh—we'd better decide on one."

"Why not an empty enclave?" Meilan said. "They would not look for us there."

The others paused. "You're right!" John said. "They'd be sure we'd stay well away from the zoos! We could hide there indefinitely."

"But which one?" Betsy asked.

"Let me recommend my own," Pei said. "It is well protected, I know where the supplies are stored, and we all know where it is."

They exchanged glances. "I guess it's agreed," John said. "Okay, let's put down somewhere along here in this rain, so the Standards think we're getting out, then bounce over partway and do it again, and finally pass near Humé's enclave and drop me and Canute. By that time the Standards should be thoroughly confused. They can't make a thorough search of every place we stop—I hope."

They gave the taxi the coordinates again but put it on manual twice to make the decoy landings. The six following spheres seemed lost in the storm but reappeared in place as the taxi emerged from it.

"That's good, I think," John said. "Means they're locked on the taxi, nothing else." He checked himself over nervously. "I'd better take some spray and paste along, even if it doesn't take well after so many layers. So I can mix in with the natives. The painted ones."

"Better leave your ID," Betsy said. "We can't operate the taxi very long without it—can't even get
out
of it!—and you won't need it in the enclave."

John turned it over a little sadly. He was no Standard, but he felt a bit naked without it. "Somebody better practice with the manual controls," he said. "It will confuse the Standards about our target area, and it's good stuff to know."

"Yes. Let me try," Betsy said. She switched to manual, and they clung to the rails while the taxi did its dance. John felt simultaneously seasick and hungry, to his surprise.

After that they took turns, swooping the vehicle around with greater enthusiasm, while the six pursuers matched them maneuver for maneuver with dismaying accuracy. But they came nearer to the assigned coordinate, for one of the taxi's registers was evidently a distance-from-target indicator, and the figure was diminishing. Miles, yards—they could not know what units were being shown, but when the number was down to zero, they would be there.

"Funny—they don't seem to use eights or nines," Betsy remarked. But the rest were too busy watching the pursuit to verify that.

"There it is!" Meilan cried suddenly, pointing.

Sure enough, there was a group of white squares that could be buildings.

"But we aren't there yet!" Betsy said. "According to the distance numbers, there's still a way to go."

"Maybe the speedometer is out of whack," John said, his voice sharpened by tension. "That's an African enclave—see, some are round grass huts. So just drop me north of this one, on manual. And make sure you can find this place again!"

Pei took control and guided the taxi down. Trees loomed. "Don't land," John cried. "Just hover a few feet up, as though you're just changing direction; I'll jump. Get ready with that ID, Betsy."

Pei's handling seemed clumsy; then John realized that the wobbles were deliberate, so the Standards would think the near approach to the ground was accidental. "Time!" Pei announced, bringing the taxi to a halt in midair. Betsy poked the ID at the door, dissolving it.

"Come on, Canute!" John cried.

Canute came charging. Meilan happened to be standing between the dog and the door. She stumbled as he banged against her leg. She grabbed automatically at him for support, falling toward the door.

"Look out!" John cried, but the available space was small, and he was already dropping himself. Canute's momentum carried both dog and girl into the door panel and through. All three fell in a rough tangle and struck the ground hard. John spit the dog's soft black ear out of his mouth and lurched to his feet while Meilan rolled lithely aside.

The six craft were too close. There was no chance to put Meilan aboard again. Betsy and Pei must have realized this, for the taxi shot away.

Meilan was along on this mission, perforce. "Hide!" John cried.

John dived under the nearest bush and saw Meilan doing the same. Canute had already disappeared. They waited while the six craft passed. None landed; none hovered.

"It worked!" John said at last. "They think we're all still in the taxi!"

"Um," Meilan murmured from inside the brush.

He got up and dusted off his bruises, then went to help her. "Sorry you got caught in this. Are you hurt?"

"No," she said, looking after the departed spheres.

"Well, you'll have to come with me, I guess. Here—you can use the brown paste if you like."

"I prefer to remain as I am."

He shrugged. "Okay. How are you at walking? We have five miles to go if Pei figured it right. The faster, the better."

"We of the Middle Kingdom are philosophic about hardships."

He wasn't certain whether she was joking, so he started walking. Canute led the way at a stiff pace, even for John, and he was in excellent physical condition. Meilan fell behind, but not far behind, and did not complain.

It must have been less than five miles, for in half an hour they were at the barrier fence of the enclave. It was not wire. It was a palisade—a fence of strong wooden stakes, each sharpened into a spearlike point at the top. Every so often there was a taller stake with a human skull mounted on the apex.

"If I were an African, I think I would be terrified," John said appreciatively. "As it is, I'm none too confident."

"It is no worse than what the northern nomads do," Meilan said. Again, John was not certain how she meant that.

He cast about for a suitable pole but found none. "I could probably hurdle this," he explained. "It's no more than five feet high in places, because of the lay of the ground. And Canute can get over, too. But you...."

"If you lift me," she said matter-of-factly. "A lady is not supposed to know such arts, but I was never a lady—not after I knew about the Standards."

"But we don't dare touch that fence. It may be—"

"Yes. I will not touch it."

With misgiving he bent and laced his fingers together, letting her put one tiny foot in this stirrup and hoist herself up. She did not weigh much.

"Now you heave as I jump," she said.

He heaved; she jumped. He watched amazed as she sailed up and over the palisade, flipped about in the air, and by the sound of it landed on her feet cleanly. This was no delicate Chinese flower!

John chose his spot, made a practice rush, then ran back and up to hurdle the stakes. "Come, Canute!" he called as he landed, and the dog followed.

Inside, they advanced cautiously. The land here was grassy and open. The soil was reddish and spotted with light-green bushes, patches of forest, and rolling fields. The air was hot; John was sweating, and he could see that Meilan was uncomfortable. Canute ran ahead, enjoying it.

But where were the people? There should be Africans laboring in these fields, and elephants....

John stopped to investigate a cultivated field. "Millet, I think," he said. Meilan didn't comment.

In due course they came to a town. Now they had to duck behind any cover available, alert against discovery. Their yellow skins would be an instant giveaway. It was nervous, tedious work.

Near the fringes were round huts with clay walls and roofs formed from large leaves. The three sneaked between these, but still neither saw nor heard anyone else. Canute sniffed the air and found it fascinating but showed no alarm.

"Where
are
they?" John whispered.

Farther in, the houses became square, with flat roofs. These were larger and in better condition. In the center the buildings became quite large and considerably more ornate. Some looked like storehouses, some like forts, and some like palaces, but all were made of clay.

There was no doubt of it now. The town was deserted. There were no people and no animals.

"I think we're in the wrong enclave," John said. "This must be Ala's—and they closed it down the moment she went to join Humé."

"She is important to you," Meilan said.

Surprised, he denied it. "I simply wanted to find her and Humé and get them out of here."

Meilan half smiled and dropped her eyes.

"Well, we have a couple of hours to kill," he said. "Nothing we can do here. Wonder where they keep the food?"

"I will look," Meilan said. She stepped into a towering mosque. Wooden spokes projected from it in lines at several levels, showing where the flooring supports were for the upper stories. Overall, the building was like a giant cactus, topped by a tall minaret. It seemed ungainly at first but was also impressive and a little frightening, this artifact of a foreign religion.

John started to follow her, then decided to hasten the search by choosing another building. He doubted that the fancy structure would have much inside that was edible, but if there were a granary....

Something caught his eye as he walked down the unpaved street. A motion in the sky. A travel-sphere! "Hide! Hide, Canute!" he cried as he dived for the nearest doorway. If the Standards were coming back, he and Meilan were in trouble!

He couldn't go to warn her, for the sphere was in a position to see most of the street. He peeked out and saw it hovering above the town. That was the giveaway, for it would never have come like that if the enclave were still in use—unless all pretenses were being dropped. This certainly wasn't the taxi. Had the Standards caught on? Would they descend and make a ground search? Had the others been caught, so that now only he and Meilan were free?

Canute looked up at him in perplexity, aware of his alarm but not comprehending its reason. John patted the furry head with empty reassurance. He had to do something! Frantically he ran into the main section of the building, looking for some sheltered exit so that he could make his way to Meilan. If she stepped out into that street now....

He was in a palace. The walls outside might be of drab clay, but the bricks had been dried hard and well fitted, and there were patterned mats hanging inside. The effect was elegant, and he wished he had time to properly admire the colorful designs. But the thought of that ominously hovering sphere....

He passed from chamber to chamber, each seeming more luxurious than the last but none leading outside. Then he burst into a great sunken courtyard, almost tumbling down the steps leading to it. Canute began a sniff-circuit.

John peered up cautiously to see whether the sphere was still there. All he saw was the plaited mat of the slanted overhanging roofs and the mural-like decorations around the court. The sphere, if it remained, was hidden by the building. He could not afford to assume that it had gone. In fact, it might be coming down for a landing.

He sidled around under the overhang until he found another entrance to the main structure. "Canute!" he called. "Find the back door. The
back
door."

The dog put his black nose to the floor and snuffled off. John followed. Again he passed through vacant, tapestried chambers. It was amazing how thoroughly the place had been cleaned out, since only yesterday Ala had lived here! This morning, perhaps. But of course they could have started dismantling the sections she wouldn't be seeing, in the last few days, removing the furniture and other accouterments.