Allies (6 page)

Kem pushed against him, and he let her go,
though he stayed on his knees beside the rocker. She looked down
into his face, hers white and wet and drawn.

"Is she Cory's sister, then?"

"I don't think so. When I say 'looks like,'
I don't mean family resemblance–or I do, but not close family. More
like a fifth or sixth cousin, maybe. She's got the same gold-tan
skin–and she's just a tiny thing, not much taller than Miri, if at
all. And when she talks, she moves her hands the way Cory and Miri
did sometimes–you remember . . ." He moved his hands in a clumsy
imitation of the crisp gestures their friends had used.

"I remember," Kem said quietly. "And you
wanted to talk to this zhena."

"I wanted to ask her if she knew Cory," he
said. "And I wanted to talk to her about–" he stumbled against the
forbidden subject, took a breath and soldiered on. "I wanted to
talk to her about that aircraft of his. If she's a countrywoman,
and an engineer, she might know–it might . . . really exist," he
finished, lamely.

There was a long silence during which Hakan
found it hard to breathe, though he kept his eyes on hers.

When she finally, tentatively, raised her
hand and smoothed his hair, he almost cried himself.

"Hakan," she whispered, "why are you . . .
obsessed with these things? You're a musician, not an
engineer."

"I think," he said unsteadily; "I think
people can be more than one thing, Kemmy. Don't you?"

Another silence, with her hand resting on
his shoulder. "I don't know. Maybe they can." She took a breath.
"Hakan."

"Kem?"

"I would like to go to the next meeting of
the Explorers Club with you."

He stared up at her, chest tight. "I–sure.
But I thought you didn't–"

"I'd like to meet to this mystery zhena,"
Kem interrupted. "If she does know Cory Robersun, I have a few
things I want to say to her about him."

*

"The captain will have me shot," Nelirikk
said, stubbornly.

He's said that once already today, but Val
Con had dismissed it out of hand and continued preparations. Now,
it needed to be addressed more forcefully since it was actually
delaying lift-off.

"Indeed, she will not have you shot.
Because, as we have discussed, you will begin calling for aid along
our private channels the moment you clear far orbit, and you will
not stop calling until you have raised either the captain herself,
the elder scout, or Commander ter'Meulen. Once you have done this,
you will report that the situation is far more complex than we had
believed. That, in addition to no less than six field teams and
four technical teams, there is at least one Agent of Change
stationed in Laxaco City, whose intention is to speedily bring
Vandar's technology to the point required by the new
headquarters.

"You will report on your prisoners and their
condition, and you will say that I have gone to Laxaco on purpose
to ensure that Kem and Hakan Darnill are out of harm's way. I will
attempt to locate the Agent, but I do not intend to confront such a
one until I have substantial back-up."

"Yay!" Miri cheered in his ear. He ignored
her.

"Scout–"

Val Con sliced the air with his hand, a
signal for attention; Nelirikk subsided, though he dared to
frown.

"If the captain has you shot, you have my
permission to bludgeon me to death."

Nelirikk snorted. "A soldier's gamble,
indeed." He sighed. "I will send back-up soon, Scout. Try not to do
anything the captain would deplore in the meantime."

"It is my sole desire to behave only as the
captain would wish."

"Pffft!" Miri commented, and even Nelirikk
looked dubious.

But– "Safe lift, Scout."

"Fair journey, Nelirikk."

*

"There she is," Hakan whispered into Kem's
ear, mindful of the zhena in the seat behind him. "She's sitting
next to Zamir Tang–the man with the rumpled gray hair–in front of
the pudgy man with the wispy mustache."

Kem took a good long look, her head tipped
to one side. Hakan reached inside his coat and tried to adjust the
zamzorn so its sharp end didn't pierce him through pocket, sweater
and shirt. Wind, but he was going to be glad when the semester
ended and he could put the stupid thing away forever or have it
mounted as a trophy to his fortitude.

"I see her," Kem murmured. "She does look
like Cory, doesn't she? In fact . . ." Her voice drifted off, and
she frowned.

"What?" Hakan asked,
forgetful of his voice, which earned him an emphatic
sssshhh
! from the zhena
behind.

"What?" he whispered.

"Do you remember after the invasion, when
Cory went off his head?"

As if he'd forget it soon. Hakan nodded.

"Zhena Pelnara reminds me of him like that,"
Kem whispered. "I can't quite–"

"If the pair of you don't have any interest
in this presentation," the zhena in back of them interrupted in a
hoarse whisper, "there are those of us who are."

Hakan looked at Kem. She was biting her lip,
her eyes dancing. He grinned and secretly reached down between
their seats and slipped his fingers through hers. She squeezed his
hand, and he settled back, happier than he had been in many a
month. Not even the zamzorn's prick against his ribs cast a shadow
on his mood.

*

Val Con relaxed into the
shadows across from the slightly seedy shingled building, the
legend
Explorers Club
blazoned in bright yellow letters over the door. He had done a
quick check of the building, looking for alternate exits, of which
there was only one, and that one locked tightly. Not that a lock
would necessarily stop, or even slow an Agent of Change, but Val
Con rather thought she would be exiting by the front door,
doubtless on the arm of the untidy old gentleman who had escorted
her inside.

The Agent, Karin pel'Nara, if the records he
had copied were accurate, had been busy this last while, sowing her
seeds of forbidden tech in the most fertile ground available to
her: the inventors, visionaries and crackpots associated with the
greatest university in Bentrill. That she appeared for the moment
to be concentrating her efforts in Bentrill was a comfort, though a
small one. At least Clonak and the hopefully substantial mop-up
team would have a relatively small segment of the world's
population to deal with.

On the other hand, the Agent had been
thorough, to the point where Vandar might not be recoverable. Val
Con sighed. The Department's philosophy regarding young societies
had always been one of aggression and exploitation. The death of a
few barbarians; the destruction of unique cultures; the upset of
societies; or the death of entire worlds–none could be allowed to
weigh against the Mission.

Well. It was hoped that Clonak arrived soon.
A final determination of Vandar's status could certainly not be
made until the pernicious influence was removed.

And, truth told, the Agent's influence was
hardly any worse than his own in allowing a native of an
interdicted world onto a spacecraft, in telling him things no man
of his world and culture had need of.

Val Con sighed again, quietly.

He had tracked down both Hakan and Kem and
assured himself of their continued good health. Indeed, it was the
need to be certain that they had not fallen under the eye of Agent
pel'Nara that had prompted him to infiltrate the Agent's base and
copy those very revealing files.

Seeing that Kem and Hakan had not come into
the Agent's circle, he had reconsidered his own plan to visit them
and drop a word of warning in their ears. Better not to take the
chance, in case the Agent were after all aware of his presence and
interested in his movements.

The breeze freshened, rattling the handbills
nailed to the post he leaned against. He wondered, idly, how long
the Explorers Club would meet.

He was considering the advisability of
moving closer when two figures came 'round the corner, moving
quickly, their footsteps noisy on the cobbled walk. Latecomers to
the meeting, Val Con thought–and then came up straight in his
hiding place.

For the two latecomers were Hakan and Kem.
As he watched they jogged up the sagging wooden stairs and
disappeared into the depths of the Explorers Club.

Oh
, Val Con thought.
Damn
.

*

The pattern of the last meeting held; after
the presentation Zhena Pelnara was immediately surrounded, and
there was no getting near her.

"She certainly is admired," Kem said, as
they helped themselves to cider and cheese. "How long has she been
a member?"

Hakan shrugged. "According to Zamir Fulmon,
the zhena was sponsored into the club during the mid-course tests,
and scarcely missed a meeting until she was called away on
business. The last meeting was her first in some time. I didn't
have time to attend meetings during the tests–which is why I'd
never seen her before."

"Has she done a presentation?" Kem wondered.
"What's her specialty?"

"I don't know," Hakan said. "We could check
the event book."

"Maybe–no, look. She's leaving."

It did seem as if the zhena was taking leave
of her friends. Zamir Fulmon, Hakan's informant of the last
meeting, brought her coat and held it for her. The man with the odd
mustache stood with two drinks in hand, as if he'd brought her one
and been overlooked. Another zamir made an offer of escort, but she
declined.

"No, it is kind of you, zamir, but I will
meet my brother only a step down the walk. Stay, and continue this
excellent conversation! Next meeting, I will want to hear how you
have come to terms with this conundrum!"

She moved firmly toward the door, and the
group stood aside to make way for her. Kem grabbed Hakan's arm and
pulled him with her, heading for the door the long way, around the
edge of the crowd.

"What–?" he managed, as they reached the
vestibule, coats flapping open in their haste.

"Let's try to overtake her on the walk," Kem
said. "It will be a perfect chance to ask her about Cory!"

*

Someone, Val Con was certain, was watching
him–and had been for some time. There was no overt evidence to
support this certainty, which only meant that whoever it was, they
were very good. He didn't believe it was Agent pel'Nara, though it
certainly could be one of her team, assigned as back-up.

He considered wandering away, to see whether
the watcher would follow, but that would mean leaving Hakan and Kem
in the Agent's orbit without back-up. Though what he might do if
the three of them emerged arm-in-arm from the–

The door to the Explorers Club opened and
Agent pel'Nara stepped out, alone, pulling on her gloves as she
descended the tricky stairs. Apparently his friends had no need of
his protection this evening. It galled him to let Agent pel'Nara
go, but he judged that prudence would counsel him to walk away in a
moment or two, and lose his watcher in the narrow streets to the
west of the campus. He could always find the Agent again,
tomorrow.

Agent pel'Nara was almost to the walkway.
The door to the Explorers Club opened again, spilling Hakan and Kem
into the night.

Val Con froze.

Agent pel'Nara, apparently oblivious, strode
steadily down the walkway toward his position. Kem clattered down
the last few steps and hit the walk very nearly at a run, Hakan
lagging behind.

"Zhena Pelnara!" she called.

The Agent checked, then turned, head cocked
to one side.

"Zhena?" she said politely, as Kem came,
breathlessly, to her side. "I am not aware of your name, I
think?"

"Kem Darnill. I was at the meeting. I'm
sorry to chase you down like this, but it was impossible to get
near you at the reception."

"Ah," Agent pel'Nara said indulgently. "You
have an idea, perhaps? A theory? But you must return and share it
with the others. It is with sadness that I must leave early, but–I
have an appointment, zhena. Good-night."

She turned, and Val Con dared to hope that
the encounter was over. Kem, however, was not to be put off.

"I don't have an idea," she said, "but a
question. It will only take a moment, zhena."

Agent pel'Nara was seen to sigh. She turned
back. "Very well," she said, her voice a little impatient now. "But
quickly if you please, Zhena Darnill."

Kem smiled as Hakan came up next to her.
"This is my zamir, Hakan," she said to the Agent. "We both noticed
you in the meeting. You look very much like a friend of ours . . .
from . . . away."

The Agent's stance changed;
she was no longer poised to walk away. She was, Val Con saw,
interested
in this. As
well she might be.

"I am intrigued, zhena," she said; "there
are very few of my–of us in Laxaco City. What is your friend's
name?"

"Corvill Robersun," Kem said.

Val Con closed his eyes, briefly.

"Corvill Robersun," the Agent repeated,
caressingly. "Now, Zhena Darnill, I must tell you that I do not
know Zamir Robersun, myself. His work, though–that I know well. Do
you say that he is in Laxaco? I will ask you for an
introduction."

"Cory and his zhena went back home," Kem
said seriously. "We'd hoped that you might have word. Also–"

"Do you happen to know–" that was Hakan,
speaking quickly, his words all but stumbling over each other. "You
said you knew his work . . ." He stopped, apparently embarrassed at
having broken into the zhena's discussion.

Agent pel'Nara turned her attention to him.
"I do indeed know his work, Zamir Darnill. What is it you wish to
ask?"

"He had an . . . an aircraft, he called it,"
Hakan said, more slowly now, as if he dreaded the answer his
question might earn, now that he was committed to asking it. "It
wasn't . . . it didn't have a propeller, and there were other
things kind of odd about it. But the oddest thing was that it
lifted straight up. I saw the snow, and there were–"