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Soothsayer Page 4


  “You talk about it like it was a daily occurrence. I've just killed a man!”

  “He was going to kill us,” said the Mouse with a shrug.

  “But—”

  “Stop worrying about him. We may have to kill a few more before we get off this planet.”

  “Let's just give them the girl.”

  “First they have to ask for her. Since they've probably figured out that she's in the ship, they may not bother.”

  “Wonderful,” muttered Merlin.

  They reached the edge of town. Merlin looked back to make sure no one had emerged from the tavern yet, then peered off in the distance, where the sun was glinting off the ship.

  “It's still there,” said the Mouse, half-surprised.

  “God!” he said. “It looks a lot farther away than it looked this morning.”

  “One of the reasons I teamed up with you is because you're good in a crisis,” said the Mouse. “But you approach one about as badly as any man I've ever known.”

  Merlin made no reply, but merely glared at her for a moment and continued walking. When they were within 500 yards, he stopped again.

  “I don't like it,” he said. “We're sitting ducks. There's nowhere to hide, and the sand makes it impossible to move quickly if we have to.”

  “The sooner we get there, the sooner you won't have to worry about it,” said the Mouse.

  “I'm not that anxious to get my head blown off.”

  “Has it occurred to you that if someone at the ship was planning to kill us, they would have already done it? This isn't beyond the range of any long-barreled weapon I know of: projectile, laser, sonic, or molecular imploder.”

  Merlin frowned. “You're right.”

  “Feel better?”

  “Less like a target, anyway. Whoever's looking for the girl is at least willing to let us get close enough to talk to him.”

  “And if we can get that close...” said the Mouse.

  Merlin increased his pace. “Yes, I feel much better.”

  “Somehow I knew you would.”

  When they got to within 300 yards, the magician slowed down again.

  “Now what?” asked the Mouse.

  “I don't see anyone.”

  “So?”

  “If they're inside the ship, they've already got the girl, and they don't need us anymore.”

  “Then why haven't they shot us?” she asked.

  “Why take a chance of missing at a quarter of a mile, when they can wait for us to reach the ship and blow us away from ten yards?” he retorted.

  “What do you propose to do, then—stand out here until you die of heat stroke?”

  “I don't know.”

  “Well, you can do what you want,” said the Mouse. “I'm going to the ship.”

  Merlin, muttering to himself, fell into step beside her. Then, when they were 150 yards away from the ship, the Mouse stopped and, shading her eyes with her hands, she stared straight ahead.

  “What now?” asked Merlin.

  “I'm not sure. It's so bright ... but I think I see two bodies at the foot of the ship.”

  “Are they moving?”

  She shook her head. “They look dead.”

  “That's crazy,” said Merlin. “We haven't got any guardian angels on this planet. On any planet, for that matter.”

  “Maybe they had a falling out,” said the Mouse.

  “Well, let's find out.”

  They approached the ship cautiously, but the Mouse had been right: two men, both heavily armed, lay dead at the base of the ladder leading to the entry hatch.

  “That's very strange,” said the Mouse. “Neither one of them tried to use his weapon.”

  “What killed them?” asked Merlin.

  “The one on the right looks like he broke his neck. There's not a mark on the other one that I can see.”

  “The hatch is unlocked,” said Merlin. “Do you suppose there's another one in there?”

  “There's only one way to find out,” said the Mouse, climbing up the stairs and entering the ship.

  “Penelope!” she called. “Are you all right?”

  Suddenly the little blonde girl, her rag doll clutched in one hand, raced out of her cabin and threw herself into the Mouse's arms.

  “Please don't leave me again!” she sobbed. “I was so frightened!”

  “It's all right now,” said the Mouse, stroking her hair. “Nobody's going to harm you.”

  “Is there anyone else aboard the ship?” asked Merlin, climbing through the hatch.

  Penelope shook her head. “Just me.”

  The Mouse set her down on the deck, and knelt down next to her. “Tell me what happened,” she said.

  “Two very bad men came to the ship after you left,” said Penelope.

  “I know.”

  “I think they wanted to take me away.”

  “I think so too,” said the Mouse.

  “I'm glad they died.”

  “So am I,” said the Mouse. “But how did they die?”

  “After you left, I got lonely, so I took Jennifer outside to play, but there weren't any other little girls around.” She looked as if she were about to burst into tears again. “There wasn't anyone.” She paused. “Do we have to stay on this world?”

  “We'll be leaving in just a few minutes,” said the Mouse. “Now, what happened to the two men?”

  “I saw them coming out to the ship and I got scared and ran inside, but I left Jennifer on the stairs to the door.”

  “You mean the entry hatch?”

  “The door,” repeated Penelope, pointing to the open hatch. “One of them started climbing the stairs, but he tripped on Jennifer and fell down and didn't move.”

  “And the other man?”

  “He knelt down next to the first man to see if he was alive, and something bit him.”

  “Something? What kind of thing?”

  “I don't know. It lives under the sand. He screamed and grabbed his hand, and then he died too.” She stared out the hatch. “They were very bad men.”

  “Merlin,” said the Mouse, “check him out.”

  The magician went back outside while the Mouse soothed the little girl, then re-entered the ship a moment later.

  “He's got some kind of bite on his hand, all right. It's swollen up and miscolored. He was laying on it or we'd have spotted it right away.” He uttered a low whistle and shook his head in wonderment. “Boy! Talk about dumb luck!”

  “I'm not dumb!” said Penelope heatedly.

  “No,” said Merlin. “But you sure as hell are lucky.” He turned to the Mouse. “I recognize the one with the broken neck.”

  “Bounty hunter?”

  “From time to time. A killer, anyway.”

  “We've got some serious planning to do,” said the Mouse.

  “I agree,” said Merlin. “The next guy to come along isn't going to trip on a doll or get bitten by some alien snake.” He locked the hatch, entered the control room, and activated the ship's engines. “But before we talk, the first order of business is to get the hell off the planet before somebody else comes looking for us.”

  “Right,” said the Mouse, strapping Penelope and herself down as the ship began climbing through the atmosphere. Once they were safely in space, Merlin set the controls on automatic and joined the Mouse in the galley.

  “If they know we landed on Cherokee, they must know the ship's registry number,” he said. “And if they know that, they'll be able to find us wherever we go.”

  “We can't afford a new ship, and I don't think trying to steal one would be the brightest thing we ever did.”

  “I agree.”

  “Then what did you have in mind?” asked the Mouse.

  “Let's go deeper into the Inner Frontier. I'll touch down on five or six worlds and drop the two of you off on one of them.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I'll lead them a merry chase while you try to find out who she belongs to.” The Mouse opene
d her mouth to protest, but Merlin held up his hand. “Look,” he said. “I'm happier running away from trouble and you're happier confronting it. This makes sense all the way around.”

  “How will we keep in touch?”

  “We won't,” said Merlin. “If they've got our registry number, they can monitor every message the ship sends and receives. We'll chose a place to meet, say, thirty Galactic Standard days from now.”

  “What if they catch you first?”

  “Well, it's not my favorite scenario,” he admitted, “but if they don't blow the ship to hell and gone, they're going to find out that I haven't got the girl.”

  “They'll make you tell them where we are,” said the Mouse. “You're not very good about pain, and even if you were, there are drugs that'll make you tell them everything you know.”

  “I know,” he said. “That's why you're going to catch the first ship off the planet I leave you on. What I don't know, I can't tell them.”

  “You can tell them where we plan to meet thirty days from now,” the Mouse pointed out.

  Merlin frowned. “I hadn't thought of that.” He shrugged. “Well, I suppose I just can't let them catch me.”

  “Not good enough,” said the Mouse. She was silent for a moment. “I have it.”

  “Yes?”

  “I won't meet you in thirty days—but if you'll tell me where you're going to be, I'll see to it that someone you've never seen before, someone you don't know, will find you and tell you where to meet us. But he'll only approach you once he's made sure you're alone, and not being observed. If he's not satisfied, he won't make contact, and we'll wait another thirty days before trying again.”

  “I like to think of myself as ruggedly masculine and quite distinctive,” said Merlin wryly, “but the fact of the matter is that I look just like anyone else. How will you be sure he'll be able to spot me?”

  “You're a magician. Put on a show.”

  He grinned. “You know, it's been so long since I did a legitimate performance, I never thought of that.”

  “Well, it's time we started thinking,” said the Mouse grimly. “Someone is sure as hell putting a lot of thought into hunting us down.”

  4.

  Merlin touched down on Binder X, one of the more populous worlds of the Inner Frontier, just long enough to drop off the Mouse and Penelope, then headed toward the galactic Core.

  Within three hours, the Mouse and Penelope were on their way to Evergreen, a lush jungle world which had been opened up only two decades earlier. They spent one night there, then boarded the next ship to Solomon, a mining planet that had yielded the three largest diamonds ever discovered. The spaceport was in the small but bustling city of Haggard, and by nightfall the Mouse had obtained a room in a nondescript hotel.

  “How much longer do we have to keep running?” asked Penelope wearily, as the Mouse began unpacking their single piece of luggage.

  “Until I'm sure no one is following us.”

  “I'm hungry.”

  “Wash your hands and face, and I'll take you downstairs for dinner.”

  The girl walked into the bathroom, did as she had been instructed, and then emerged, holding up her hands for the Mouse's inspection.

  “Very good,” said the Mouse.

  “Good,” said Penelope. “I want you to like me.”

  “I'd like you just as much if your hands were dirty,” said the Mouse. “After all, you're a very likable little girl. I just wouldn't shake hands with you.”

  “Do you really like me?”

  “Yes, I really do.”

  “I like you, too.” The little girl paused. “Will you always be my friend?”

  “Of course,” said the Mouse. “Why shouldn't I be?”

  “I don't know,” said Penelope. “But lots of people pretend to be my friend, and then they aren't.”

  “Oh?” said the Mouse. “Who?”

  “Lots of people.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Penelope shook her head. “I'm hungry. So is Jennifer.”

  “Me, too,” said the Mouse. “Bring Jennifer along, and let's go get some dinner.”

  They left the room, took the airlift down to the lobby, and entered the restaurant. The Mouse scanned the faces of the diners, not quite knowing what she was looking for, but hoping she would be able to spot someone who was after Penelope, either by the telltale bulge of a weapon, or by some surreptitious look. But everyone carried weapons on the Inner Frontier, and nobody paid her or the girl the any attention.

  They punched out their orders on a computer—the Mouse had to help Penelope read some of the dishes—and then settled back to await their meal.

  “If we're going to be friends forever,” said the Mouse, “I should know a lot more about you. We've been so busy running for the past few days that we've hardly had a chance to get to know each other.”

  “And I should get to know more about you, too,” agreed Penelope.

  “That seems fair enough.”

  “Why are you called the Mouse?”

  “Because I'm so small,” answered the Mouse. “And because I can go places where most people don't fit.”

  “Like the laundry vent?”

  The Mouse nodded. “Exactly.”

  “Why where you there?” asked Penelope.

  “Because that's where Merlin put on his magic show.”

  “I like his tricks,” said Penelope. “They're fun.” She paused. “Is he your husband?”

  The Mouse chuckled. “No, thank God. He's just my business partner.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “No.”

  “Do you like him?”

  “Yes.”

  “More than you like me?”

  “I hardly know you yet, Penelope,” said the Mouse. “But I'm sure that after we get acquainted, I won't like anyone better than I like you.”

  “I hope so,” said Penelope.

  “Now it's my turn to ask you some questions.”

  “All right.”

  “What's your home world?”

  “I don't know.”

  “I don't mean the world you were born on. I mean the one you live on.”

  “Oh. Solomon.”

  “That's the world we're on now,” the Mouse pointed out.

  “Then it's my home world now.”

  “Let me try it a different way. Where did you grow up?”

  “All over.”

  The Mouse frowned. “Where did your parents live?”

  “With me.”

  A waiter arrived with their dinners, and the Mouse put off further questions until they had finished eating. Then, while they were waiting for dessert, she tried again.

  “Do you know why the alien kidnapped you?”

  “What is kidnapped?” asked Penelope.

  “Why he stole you from your family?”

  “He didn't. He stole me from Jimmy Sunday.” She paused, considering her answer. “He saved me from Jimmy Sunday,” she amended, “but he was very mean to me.”

  “Jimmy Sunday?” repeated the Mouse. “He was a bounty hunter. I remember hearing that they found his body on Glennaris V.”

  “Glennaris IV,” Penelope corrected her. “No one lives on Glennaris V.”

  “And you say the alien stole you from him and killed him?”

  “He saved me from him,” repeated Penelope. “Jimmy Sunday was going to hurt me.” She paused thoughtfully. “I don't know who killed him.”

  The Mouse looked puzzled. “Why would he want to hurt you?”

  Penelope shrugged. “I don't know.”

  “Maybe you just thought he was going to hurt you. He was probably a gruff man.”

  “He was going to kill me,” said Penelope adamantly.

  “That doesn't make any sense.”

  “Those two men on Cherokee were going to kill me, too.”

  “No, they weren't,” said the Mouse. “They were going to take you away from us and return you to your family.”

>   “I don't have any family.”

  “You must have someone—a cousin, an uncle, something.”

  Penelope shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Anyway, they weren't going to kill you. Someone has offered a lot of money for anyone who finds you and returns you to them. Nobody can collect it if you're dead.”

  “You're not going to return me, are you?” asked Penelope fearfully.

  “Of course not,” lied the Mouse. “But I have to find out who wants you back, so I can tell them that you're safe and that you'd rather stay with me.” She paused. “Who do you think wants you back?”

  “Everybody,” said Penelope. “Especially the Number Man.”

  “The Number Man?” repeated the Mouse. “Who's that?”

  “I don't know.”

  “Why do you call him the Number Man?”

  “Because his name is a number.”

  “It is?”

  Penelope nodded. “32,” she said.

  “Maybe it's a code.”

  “Everyone called him that.”

  “Who is everyone?”

  “Everyone in the building.”

  “What building?”

  “I don't know.”

  “Where was this building?” asked the Mouse.

  “Far away,” said Penelope. “On a big planet with lots of buildings.”

  “If I named the planet, would you know it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Earth?”

  “No.”

  “Sirius V?”

  “No.”

  “Deluros VIII?”

  “That's it,” said Penelope.

  “You've been to Deluros?”

  Penelope nodded. “It's a big world.”

  “The biggest,” agreed the Mouse. “Did you live there?”

  Penelope shook her head. “The Number Man took me there.”

  “Why would someone take you to the capital world of the Democracy?”

  “I don't know.”

  “How long were you there?”

  “A long time.”

  “A week? A month? A year?”

  Penelope shrugged. “A long time.”

  “Did you like it there?” asked the Mouse.

  “No. Everybody wore uniforms and they weren't nice to me. They wouldn't play with me.”

  “How did you leave?”

  “Somebody stole me.”

  “Jimmy Sunday?”

  Penelope shook his head. “No. Before him.”