The Adventures of Deacon Coombs (21 page)

“Until recently, the trade union had a long-term contract to transport all these arms. In transport, we hired consulting third-party security forces with impeccable histories for oversight. That all changed recently once the rumor circulated that arms were being sold to subversive groups.”

“Were they stolen from the manufacturing sites themselves, or en route from trade vessels?”

“Stolen from plant sites, en route, at loading docks, and from various points before reaching the new owners by a wide variety of well-planned criminal acts. Travers and his crew witnessed Nicosians with weapons. The weapon that Travers recorded being discharged may well be one from a crewman of the
Sleigher
. Or it may be part of the missing arms. We just don’t know. All we know is that it is of recent vintage, and that warrants a return to Nix for further investigation.”

“So the possibility lingers that someone might be storing a large arsenal of arms on Nix? That’s what you two think? Do you and Travers have any idea who might be concocting this elaborate, ambitious undertaking?”

They hesitated, and Deacon couldn’t read their thoughts. After a prolonged pause, they both said no.

“So we are about to walk into the den of evil itself?”

“You need to take the utmost precautions to protect our leader,” Chubby said, “and naturally yourself. Travers and I are so surprised that with all effort the Alliance is expending they have not uncovered that the trade union altered shipment records to protect us until we have had a chance to uncover the culprits ourselves. It is possible that Geor’s son discovered this, or uncovered a clue to their misplacement and was murdered for it, or maybe discovered the exact rigged records. We suspect that he passed this clue to Como, which may have cost him his life. Understand, Coombs, that the number-one reason we rigged the records was to give the criminals a false sense of comfort while we investigated.”

Deacon couldn’t refuse the jab. “So truthful, honest, reliable Aralians rigged—that was the word you used Chubby,
rigged
—the shipment records to hide the facts of the missing arms. No. Can’t be true. Is it, Chubby? Aralians lying? The entire human race believes that Aralians are incapable of telling a lie.”

Chubby did not make excuses. “All in a day’s work.” He smiled back at Deacon.

“A most unlikely team we make.”

Travers rose to excuse himself. “I am tir-r-r… ed. There will be time to discuss matters dur-r-r-r… ing the trip.”

Deacon was irritated. “Not so soon. You both mentioned the devil numerous times in this conversation. What did you mean by that? You seem to have omitted that important part of the saga during your wanderings around Nix. I want facts of his existence, if indeed you have any.”

Chubby was offended. “Do not mock us. I am a devoutly religious man, and so is Travers, and our Aralian religious doctrine defines the prophecy of such a mind-bending evil that will descend on Aralia and our universe in this
yarted
.”

“
Yarted
?”

“Our religion is divided into clearly defined segments. Each is called a
yarted
. Maybe I let my religion carry me too far, but it is not superstition, it is beliefs. We are in the
yarted
of the Crouse, the one where he is predicted to come, the one filled with disruptive events and evils. Our religion requires us to accept these as challenges and overcome them to become stronger in our faith. You are on Aralia. Please do not mock our beliefs.”

“And you, Travers?”

“In my nightmares and du-du-du… reams, I see him, the creature of ecks-s-s… treme evil with a thirst for blood and conquering. I can only say that he ecks-s-s… sists and Nix is a key to his presence! In my dreams, his bone-ch-ch-ch… chilling presence comes… inside me! Chubby is right. Our
yarted
speaks of him!”

“Where does this thing, this devil, come from?”

Travers turned, and the stare he gave Deacon turned him to stone. Travers turned and hobbled out, leaving the two men alone without answering the question. Deacon confronted Chubby as he intercepted his gaze. “Do not attempt to follow us, Chubby, for I feel that this is your intent.”

“You will need help.”

“And you will die, for Nix is forbidden to all but the
Heritage
.”

“You will need help. Please let me help you.”

“Against this thing? The creature from the world of dreams? My Owlers can handle a creature from dreams. If we find the devil, we will shoot to kill. Maybe it can destroy Aralian minds, but the Owlers will be out of its influence, and their weaponry, their technology, is unmatched by any devil.”

Chubby’s eyes brimmed with intense fear. “This thing is for real, Coombs. I fear that you will need more than two Owlers, a weakened Aralian, your so-called assistant, and your luck. You must believe me, Coombs. Alien invasion is upon us. They killed Como and Geor to create chaos and insecurity as a prelude. The devil leads these forces.”

“Spare me your melodrama. This company is somewhat better than I originally thought, for I assumed that I was a solo act. Not a single word of our discussions to your partners, for my instinct tells me that the conspiracy you and I seek has its roots in the Alliance, or more likely is rooted in your beloved traders’ union.”

Chubby conceded and asked Deacon to tour their facility with him. As they walked around the compound, they crafted a plan to hide Travers on the
Heritage
. Deacon promised that Gem would deliver all the final details of their departure. Deacon knew the biggest hurdle would be the two Owlers. “I want your word that you will not attempt to follow us, Chubby. You haven’t sworn this to me yet.”

At last Chubby admitted defeat. He stopped dead in his tracks and smiled. “You have my solemn word.” Chubby gave Deacon an Aralian trust hug.

“I also want you to acknowledge to me that I shall not be held responsible should anything happen to Travers.” These were harsh words for Deacon to spit out.

“Well, I suppose that has to be a part of the plan.”

“Yes, it must be. Now that we have a state of unanimity, Travers and you misused Travers’s powers to gain control of the trade union to unlock the mystery of the missing arms. I figure it must have been a conspiracy with a number of allies involved in the plot. A neat, tidy Aralian plot by honest Aralians!”

Chubby grunted. “There were twenty of us comrades in arms. At the time, we were apprehensive that if the Alliance discovered the missing arms, they would break the trade union and take over the leadership by force. A quick investigation was required while the Alliance focused on other infractions. There were no leads until Travers returned from Nix with that damning video of a laser gun, and his tale of a dream that contained this devil. It’s sad to say, but Como was correct when he said that Aralians are becoming flawed.” Ashamedly, on a very grave note, Chubby said, “One man can’t possibly fight this cancer. The deterioration is too advanced. We are grateful that you take our trusted member with you.”

Deacon was phlegmatic in his response. “I do this because I bet that it would be better to transport Travers with me to Nix than to have him journey there on his own.”

In the hours that followed, Chubby provided more information on the escape plan. He also elaborated on the union’s efforts to locate missing arms and put an end to illegal shipments. The union was sorrowful over Geolo’s two losses—Geor and his son—but the traders were innocent of any wrongdoing.

“Chubby, I want one more promise from you. I will not be in communication with you until our return. I want you to keep your word that you will not let any trade ship follow us. I require your word.”

“Much as I want to interfere, I promise. I’ll make sure that no other ships follow.”

Now they were all part of a waiting game. The pact of the unlikely partners was sealed.

Into the Nix

Chubby’s revelations

Deacon was led to a small alcove where he was permitted to scan the complete logs of the
Sleigher
on his handheld. Later, he cross-examined Travers’s own testimony on his visit to Nix. The details were as he had read them in Travers’s mind and as Travers had revealed earlier. There were no new clues, only the confirmation of what he already knew. He was just at the point of boredom when Chubby arrived, bearing food. Following an exchange of pleasantries and hopes, the three partook in a hearty feast. Deacon had never eaten so well before on the planet. Rather than spoil the conversation, he waited until Travers departed and then approached Chubby.

“There was one unusual item in Travers’s testimony, and in the travel logs of the
Sleigher
, when the minutes referred to a man named Landrew who visited the ill-fated liner in the Vesper dish at Aralia. Was this our Landrew?”

“Yes.”

Deacon was astonished. “Why would he personally travel to Aralia?”

“To investigate the crew and contents of the
Sleigher
after the return from Nix.”

“I don’t believe that. Landrew has too much else of importance to do; he has officials to represent his interests. He has top investigators at his disposal. Why would he make the effort to travel and Vesper from Earth to Aralia—all the way here—just to inspect the
Sleigher
?”

“He came, and I saw him,” Chubby said. Then he gravely whispered, “And he was the first to board the
Sleigher
upon its return. The ship was sealed tight, off-limits to everyone after the engineer discovered its return. No one else was allowed to board, so it sat there at the station for days, a sort of spooky ghost ship, inspiring spectral tales. The Vesper station was closed, and traffic diverted to other Aralian stations. So we all loitered like scavengers at the dock, awaiting Landrew’s arrival.”

Deacon had lost his appetite. His curiosity was aroused. “Chubby, this is an important clue. Why should Landrew come here? It is indeed puzzling. It disturbs me that he did not inform me of this on Earth. The obvious answer is one I don’t like—that there was something or someone on the
Sleigher
that no one other than Landrew was supposed to witness. The question is what? Or who? I don’t understand. Landrew did not divulge this fact to me on Earth.”

Chubby noisily munched on his food while talking. “The ship sat there for days and became the object of many stories. With the facts around the disappearance and return unknown, it became the investigation of the vanishing Vesper, as reported by journalists. I had my sighting confirmed by one of the other station engineers who also saw Landrew.”

Chubby wasn’t the least bit interested in continuing this dialogue, although Deacon left the door open. As Chubby focused now on winter fruit delicacies, inspecting each berry, Deacon dared to ask, “Do you know a man named Morris Mydloan?”

He had obviously hit a nerve. Chubby’s eyes lit up resiliently as he swallowed his food with a gulp. His expression changed. “How do you know this man?”

“He tried to kill me on Earth before I left.” Deacon pulled down his black turtleneck sweater to expose the ruby-colored scar.

Chubby leaned in to inspect and shook his head in disbelief. “That’s impossible.”

“No, it isn’t. My Owler Gem shot him to death on the floor in the library in Liberty City as he attacked me with a length of wire.”

Chubby stopped eating and frowned. “Morris Mydloan is an employee of the Special Security Forces of the Alliance.”

Deacon was irate. “That, Chubby Eaves, is a lie. I don’t believe you. Why should the Alliance hire me to solve a crime and then order one of their own security men, Morris Mydloan, to assassinate me? That is illogical.”

Chubby crushed the fruit in his mouth, and the juice dripped off his chin. “I… don’t know. Why don’t you ask Landrew? But Morris Mydloan is a member of special spying forces, and is employed by the Alliance; this I swear to.”

“Don’t play games with me, Chubby Eaves.” Deacon was feeling uneasy and frail.

“I don’t lie to you.”

“He was a hired assassin! Hired to kill me!”

“He was a spy working on the same case as you, and he came here to this very place to interview me just as you have done. Travers was not here at the time. So there, Deacon Coombs. You dragged it out of me. There was someone here before you, and it was a very thorough interview process conducted by Mydloan.” Chubby jabbed Deacon with his finger. “Ah-ha! Ah. Didn’t know that, did you? That ole Morris was here. When you asked me previously, you asked if Travers had been interviewed. So I didn’t lie.”

Deacon was perspiring freely, a tightness knotting in the pit of his stomach. He was at a loss for words until he finally said, “Prove it!”

“Morris—or Madman, as he is notoriously referred to—was hired upon his release from prison because of his unusual mental prowess. He had special mental powers and was able to penetrate the minds of others. He was reprogrammed by Alliance doctors and then joined security to become an agent—one of their agents assigned to investigate the charges against Travers. He was hired to find Travers after he escaped the hospital at Froora and deliver him back into the custody of the Alliance at Brebouillis. Naturally, we hid Travers effectively when we discovered that Morris was on our planet. I’m sorry. It is not a well-kept secret about Mydloan.” Chubby became animated. “Why, he strutted right through the grand cavern amid Aralian traders and gloated as he approached me. I found the whole process of conversing with him totally unpleasant. I would never have asked him to do what Travers and I request of you.”

“Gossip!” said Deacon.

“No, Deacon, facts. Morris Mydloan had an exceptionally high brain quotient. Morris had the ability to read other people’s thoughts just like you. I say again to emphasize it to you that upon his release, he was sent to Brebouillis and was reprogrammed and rehabilitated by doctors there. Then, after a brief stint of training at the academy, he was hired by the Alliance to travel around the universe interrogating and torturing unsuspecting beings. He was a thug of Alliance property. There are rumors and stories of his reign of torture of individuals, extracting information by brute force.”

Deacon was petrified, flabbergasted. He suddenly felt insecure, not knowing whom to turn to once more. He suddenly remembered the look Rande had had on his face when the victim was identified. Rande must have been mighty surprised to see one of his official investigators dead on the library floor. Chubby licked the juice from his fingers as he said, “I don’t jest, Deacon. We are partners now. Remember?”

Deacon rested in his silence, recalling the words of Lyanna stating that one of the investigators who came before him was a reprogrammed derelict, an Earthling with an attitude problem. His insecurity exponentially grew.

“So Morris tried to kill you. You said with wire?”

Squeamishly, remembering its deadly glitter, he pulled down the sweater top again to give Chubby a second look. “Wire.”

“Deacon, I swear. There is a great persuasive evil out there. Trust no one except the Owlers and Travers and me. The last that we heard of Morris, he was traveling planet-to-planet in a small one-man craft, inflicting his authorized wrath of mental torture upon poor, unsuspecting souls in the name of the Alliance. But there was also a rumor that reached my ears only days ago that his torture was in the name of a new lord of evil that he worshipped. Death was not too early for this scoundrel.”

“Can you possibly get me the official documents of his stops and of his complete journey since his release from Brebouillis?”

“No promises, Deacon, but I’ll try. I have guarded contacts inside the Alliance.”

“Can you possibly deliver them to me before I depart Aralia?”

“Okay. For you I promise they will be delivered, for we are partners. I am very sorry that I had to be the one to inform you about Mydloan. I look at you and I see confusion, insecurity, and fear—the same confusion, insecurity, and fear that Travers and I feel. Look at me. You know who your friends are. I keep telling you. It is me and Travers. You will reach this conclusion eventually. Friends?”

Deacon felt more forlorn than ever before. Limply, perhaps even falsely, he shook Chubby’s hand; in his mind, there was a new distended vacuum of trust everywhere.

Reunions

Soon good-byes were in order. Over seventy hours had passed since Deacon’s arrival. He kept reckoning in his mind that the safest place for Travers to be was with him as he walked into the lair of evil, for Travers’s thoughts had betrayed him, and he would definitely venture there with or without Deacon. Over and over he justified his decision while rehearsing his new orders to Gem and Jim.

Hours later, the sled was plowing through fresh-laden powdery snow, the buzzing of the engine making Deacon woozy. He had missed the Owlers. He felt a sensation of security while in their presence. He prayed that Lyanna had not been a party to Morris Mydloan’s reprogramming. As the sled barged over hills, eventually the misty shapes of the factories came into sight. The monotonous sound of the motor put him into a trance, where distrustful faces confronted him and unfriendly surroundings pricked him. Then he awakened as the two metallic Owlers shook him, and he was elated. After he gave each one an exceptionally tight hug, they in turn only expressed their concern about failing the prime directive. “The vehicle sustained serious damage, Master,” said Gem. “Quobit and I could not continue. It was fortunate that a wayward traveler came by and offered assistance and a ride back to Glagn.”

Deacon understood perfectly the coincidence of the wayward traveler. “Another trader, sent by Chubby no doubt, all planned.”

“Meanwhile, our search for you was delayed while blinding storms invaded the area. Yesterday, Travers’s men informed us that you would be delivered here safely today. We were prepared to invade the Alps if you did not return on schedule.”

“Did you inform the Alliance of my brief sortie?”

Gem was firm. “No.”

“Nor I’obo?”

“No.”

“Good,” Deacon said. “Don’t.”

It took hours to relate the events to Quobit and the Owlers. He did this primarily to have Gem officially document the occurrence and leave a record if anything should happen to them. Secondly, he wanted the Owlers to have the information on Chubby Eaves and the references to Nix by both Chubby and Travers. With Jim gasping in almost human amazement, Deacon related the tale of Travers, emphasizing Travers’s innocence as told to him. Gem reminded Deacon of Schlegar’s parting words: “This man is dangerous.” Her blue eyes looked suddenly cold.

As Deacon finished reciting the episodes, he revealed the surprise traveler who would be joining them. Instantly the Owlers protested, but Deacon reminded them that they, the Owlers, could not be mentally influenced by Travers, so the mission would not be jeopardized. “What better person to accompany us than the person with the exact coordinates of where the
Sleigher
had journeyed?” he stated.

Gem and Jim hurled rebuttals Deacon’s way as he gave the orders a third time. Quobit intervened with support for Deacon’s logic. Gem said, “Master, your wish will be obeyed, but if Travers poses a threat to you or jeopardizes the mission, he will be eliminated. The directive to protect you will not be compromised a second time.” Deacon realized that the directive did not require his approval.

There was silence. The briefing was concluded. The following day, the records of the Union of Space Traders were laid open to Deacon, just as Chubby had promised. Deacon and Jim together reviewed the voyages of the
Sleigher
, and Chubby delivered the escapades and travel plans of Morris Mydloan to Deacon as best as he could reconstruct them from records. Deacon noted that the logs of the
Sleigher
recorded two more passengers on arrival at Aralia than the number of patients at Brebouillis. One of these was Travers. Who was the other one? Deacon decided he had better inquire of Travers as to the identity of the individual. As Jim and Deacon focused on the
Sleigher
’s journey, Chubby provided access to Quobit to record all the serial numbers of the missing arms; Gem traveled to the port to make ready for their departure.

Deacon noticed some items of interest in Travers’s recent travels—points of discussion for the trip. Exhausted, he returned to rest on the
Heritage
until their departure. Later, as the last of their supplies and fuel were loaded, he paced nervously inside his quarters, first regretting, and then justifying, this decision to travel with Travers.

“I gather that you are anxious about Travers’s arrival,” said Quobit.

“Quobit, I have a heavy burden thrust upon me to take Travers with us. I have ignored Schlegar’s sage advice and potentially compromised the trust Landrew and the High Council have in me. However”—he softened his voice—“I reason that the traders had many a chance to exterminate me on Aralia with all Travers’s resources, but he did not kill me.”

“If it makes you feel better, I agree with your thinking. However, Deacon, someone in the Alliance, on the other hand, sent Morris Mydloan after you.”

“I am bubbling to disclose this to Rande upon arrival back on Earth. I cannot risk that communication to him now. The Alliance seems to be rife with spies.”

Quobit spoke bluntly. “Better to have Travers in our backyard than to not know where he is.” The cliché was worn thin, but Deacon was appreciative of Quobit’s efforts to reinforce his logic.

Their conversation in the main viewing room was interrupted as a motley-haired Aralian dressed in a smock addressed Deacon. “These discs are delivered to Deacon Coombs for your main recording system, sir.”

“Please deposit them on the desk, over there,” said Deacon, and he guided him.

Deacon then bounced down to the lower control level, where stood the portal to the outside world. He observed Jim vigorously giving orders, pointing here and there, scrutinizing every activity. Then Jim instructed officials to verify the departure papers. It was then that one of the security officers made a fuss. Waving his arms, he motioned to another guard to proceed on board. Had the plan gone amiss? The officer was speaking so rapidly that Deacon’s translator couldn’t keep up with the dialogue as to what the problem was.