Ammonite Planets (Omnibus): Ammonite Galaxy #1-3 (81 page)

Arcan, who had been quiet for most of the meal, agreed immediately. “Of course, Diva, that would not be a problem.”

Grace shook her head. “You won’t have to. I have eaten enough for two days at least, and we decided on a three day holiday, so we can just eat sweetfruits for the rest of the time. Although I would like to go back – one day.”

Diva nodded. “Me too. It was a stunning place, wasn’t it?”

Even Arcan and the visitor agreed to this. The trip back to the lakeside camp was undertaken in a spirit of relaxed and satisfied companionship. They were all feeling very content.

When they got back to the camp, and once they had let the canths loose, they decided to show Arcan and the visitor around the lake, and persuaded Arcan to try his skill at swimming. It wasn’t very satisfactory, because his diaphanous shape simply floated on the surface, bobbing up and down, and causing the others to laugh, something the orthogel entity was not particularly happy about. He and the visitor were discussing hydrodynamics and hyperfluidity in superior tones when suddenly Arcan stopped in mid-sentence.

He seemed to be listening to a distant voice. Grace lifted her hands up to her face, realizing that something must be very wrong, but Arcan turned to her, and scintillated. “It is all right, Grace. I am being asked to go back to Valhai immediately, but I hope I shall be able to resolve the problem. I shall take the visitor with me too. Will you be all right here on your own?”

All three nodded.

“Call me if you need me.” Then he and the visitor disappeared abruptly from the lake, leaving a sense of abandonment behind him.

“I think that is the end of our holidays,” said Six, stretching. “Pity.”

Diva nodded. “Mmm. But I suppose we
should
be getting on our way to Eletheia, wouldn’t you say, Grace?”

“I think so. Let’s sleep here tonight and then set off first thing in the morning.”

ARCAN AND THE visitor arrived directly on the 21st floor of the 256th skyrise to find a distraught group of people waiting for them. As soon as Arcan saw the waiting committee he transported the visitor high up against the ceiling, to give him time to blend.

Aracely was at the head of this group. Since she was shortly to start work for the orthogel entity, she had evidently been deputized as spokesperson.

“Arcan! We need your advice! Mandalon 50 has disappeared. We think he might have suffered some kind of accident. Please help us!”

Arcan looked around at the people in the room. He recognized some of them as belonged to the group of dignitaries he had held hostage over the tricks of Mandalon 49. These were important people on Valhai, he knew.

“Of course I will help. What is it that has happened? Where did Mandalon 50 go?” As he was speaking he was scanning those present. He saw that neither Atheron nor Xenon were amongst the worried group. That, he found, was slightly odd.

“He was supposed to be visiting the university building, when he vanished!” Aracely was very upset, and there were bright tears standing out in her eyes.
 

Arcan darkened. “Was he not accompanied by security?”
 

“YES! But he expressed a desire to see one of the
vimpic
rooms in person, and you know, only one person at a time can fit into those rooms, so the bodyguards stayed outside.” She gave a sniff. “And then they got worried because he didn’t come out. You see there are two doors on the vimpics, and the other door was standing open, so he must have got confused, and let himself out of the other. Then we think he must have got lost, and … well … nobody can find him now.”

Arcan found it rather suspicious that the
vimpic
rooms should have been the place where Mandalon 50 got lost. He knew that the
vimpics
were almost the exclusive prerogative of Atheron, and the teaching house. Combined with the fact that Atheron was not here, he thought he might know who had been responsible for the disappearance of Mandalon 50. He found himself swelling up uncontrollably, feeling something very like the rage which seemed to characterize Diva and Six. It was time, he decided, to show the Sellites just what sort of a person they were harbouring in their midst!
 

“I will find Mandalon 50 for you,” he promised the expectant group. “I just hope that it will not be too late.”

Aracely was shaking with dismay. “Please hurry!” she told Arcan. “You know how important that boy is!”

Arcan had to agree. It was because of the boy that he had decided to give the Sellites another thousand years on Valhai. He liked the young ruler’s firm grasp on essentials, and knew that he would rather see Mandalon as head of Sell than any other Sellite. He shimmered to Aracely.

“I will do my best,” he told her, and then vanished, taking care to take the visitor’s video camera with him. The visitor had proved invaluable on more than one occasion, and might come in handy now, he thought.

THEY WENT STRAIGHT down to the Valhai Voting Dome. The University was only a matter of metres from the entrance, and they both knew from past experience that the area under the Valhai Voting Dome was the prerogative of Atheron. If he were anywhere, Arcan was sure, he would be somewhere in the labyrinth of tunnels and rooms that the head of the educational skyrise now took to be his domain.

Arcan materialized outside the warren of tunnels, and asked the visitor to go first, in case Atheron was expecting him to follow, and had decided to use Mandalon to trap him. Since Atheron had no knowledge of the visitor, and its sphere, he was at a disadvantage, and they decided to make full use of it.
 

So the little machine made its way silently along the dark corridors, followed by Arcan, who was keeping just close enough to be in visual contact. He knew that if the machine suddenly cloaked, they would have reached their destination.

First, they went to the room where Atheron had made the orange compound, but there was no sign of either Atheron or Mandalon 50. All the canisters had vanished, too, so perhaps Atheron had shipped them out. They checked the first room out carefully, and then began to look further afield.

The area under the Valhai Voting Dome was huge and claustrophobic. It had clearly been built at the time of the First Valhai Votation, and left empty since then. That was over a thousand years ago now, and it looked as if nobody except Atheron had bothered to use the passageways since. They were completely dark and coated with particulates which had seeped in through the generations. If the young boy had been let loose down here on his own he would be terrified. Not only that, thought Arcan, but he would be in grave danger. The air supply was very thin. He presumed that at one time air had been pumped into these corridors and dark rooms automatically, but most of the machinery had clearly seized up, and there were few places where the air would be breathable for a Sellite. Atheron had fixed the pumps in the area where he worked, but the rest were in a deplorable state.

They worked their way slowly and carefully around the passageways, trying to work systematically to avoid missing any nooks and crannies which could hide a small boy. At first there was nothing, but then, after about an hour of searching, they had their first stroke of luck. The sphere suddenly vanished in front of Arcan, and he immediately shrank himself down to an insignificant size. There were footsteps in front of him, and Atheron walked carefully past, lighting his own way with a laser lantern, and taking great care not to slip on the rock.
 

They waited until he disappeared from view, and then Arcan asked the visitor if it had seen the direction the Sellite had appeared from.

“Yes, I think so. He came from the left tunnel.”

“Then that is where we will find the boy!” They continued their journey, now being extra careful to examine any possible places where the boy might be.

IN THE END it was just as well that they had taken that precaution, but another hour had passed before they stumbled upon him. Even though they were looking for him, they very nearly didn’t see him. He was hidden in a crevice between two rooms, and unconscious. They examined him carefully, and saw that his leg was trapped under a jumble of metallic joists and realized that he would need to be dug out of his predicament. He was unconscious, and Arcan thought that he had probably been drugged.

“What do you want to do?” asked the visitor. “Are you going to transport him out?”

“No. I think that I will have to bring effectives in and have him dug out,” said Arcan. “I don’t really want to transport him out if he has any damage in that leg – I could make things worse for him. And I think the authorities ought to see where he was found.”

“Yes. They might think that we have made the whole thing up otherwise, I agree.”

SO ARCAN WENT back to the waiting group and explained that he had found the boy. There was a smattering of applause, and then worried looks as they heard that he appeared to have damaged a leg. They quickly gave orders for Vion 48 to accompany a reduced group of guards down to the boy’s position. Vion 48 would administer whatever medication might be necessary while the boy was rescued from his difficult situation. Arcan agreed to transport extra air into the tunnel while the operation was being carried out.

One of the group asked Arcan if he had seen signs of anybody else being down in the passageways, and the orthogel entity denied seeing anybody. It seemed pointless to blame Atheron when the only proof against him would be Arcan’s own word. He knew that the head of the education house would deny any involvement. It simply wouldn’t be worth it. They would have to wait and see what the boy himself remembered, and if the boy was unaware what had happened to him, then Arcan would take it upon himself to let him know. Arcan was darker than usual and he saw Aracely looking at him curiously. That girl was quite as sharp as her brother, he realized.

Once they got back to the tunnel, the burly guards discussed the best way to extract the boy, while Vion 48 gently did what he could to lessen the young leader’s pain. The boy had regained consciousness while Arcan had been absent, and was talking, but without making much sense. Vion 48, Aracely’s father, looked concerned.
 

“It is almost as if he has been drugged,” he told Arcan. “I can find no sign of a head injury, yet he is incoherent, and confused. We can’t rule out foul play here. Are you sure that you saw no-one in the tunnels?”

Arcan didn’t answer, and after a few seconds’ scrutiny the man turned back to his patient.

Finally, the examination was over, and the doctor signaled the waiting guards to begin removing the beams that were pinning the boy down.

“As far as I can tell from here, he will be all right. The leg is probably fractured, certainly very badly bruised. This whole thing is most unusual. I think you may know more than you are saying.”

“If I did, there would be a reason for that.”

“I daresay. Well, you will know your own business best.”

Arcan shimmered, and the two of them waited patiently while the guards carefully removed each beam to release Mandalon 50. At last the boy was free, and Vion 48 bent to examine him more thoroughly.
 

“Yes, the leg is broken. I wonder if you would mind taking him to my house?”

“I only know the ground floor of the medical house,” Arcan said apologetically.

“Hmm.” The doctor shot him a look from under well-populated eyebrows. “I guessed you might. That will be fine. I can treat this leg there and then get him up to my floor in the ortholift. Just wait until I get that leg immobilized.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a slightly curved splint, placing it firmly over the trouble and tying it tightly with a bandage.

“There. Ready now,” he said. “You have been extremely lucky, young man. If it weren’t for the orthogel entity nobody would have found you for days, and you would have been long dead by then.” He gave a brief nod to Arcan, and he and his patient vanished.
 

Arcan returned the guards and then transported himself and the visitor to the 21st floor of the 256th skyrise. There was much to talk about.

IT WAS NOT until three days later that Arcan was called into Mandalon’s rooms. The young ruler was sitting up on a couch, and looking infinitely better than he had the last time Arcan had seen him.

“I believe I am indebted to you, Arcan.”

“You owe me, yes,” said Arcan, remembering Six’s words when they first met. Then he caught sight of the Sellite leader’s look of surprise. “Is that not correct?”

The boy grinned. “No. It is exactly correct. I just … did not expect you to say it. You may be sure that I will remember.”

Arcan looked around, and saw that they were completely alone. “You want to talk to me in private?” he asked.

Mandalon 50 nodded. “I wanted to know if you had seen … anybody when you were down there in the tunnels. I spoke to Vion 48 and he told me that he thought that you might have done, but that the impression he had was that you would only tell me, and that you would only tell me in private.”

Arcan pulsed. “He was right. You do not remember anything?”

The boy shook his head. “I was in the
vimpic
room, and then I was being taken out of the tunnel. I have no idea whatsoever what happened to me. The only thing I am absolutely sure of is that I didn’t get from one place to the other on my own two feet, whatever anybody may say.”

“I don’t think you did. But I can’t prove it.”

“You don’t need to prove it. I would simply like to know what you saw.”

“I saw Atheron walking away from the place where we found you.”

The boy was silent for three long seconds. “And you are sure?”

“That I saw Atheron? Yes. That he was responsible for your accident. That too.”

“Yes. So am I. I thought you would give me his name.”

“You know he might be trying to kill you?”

“I …” Mandalon looked at Arcan, as if trying to decide whether to trust him or not. Eventually, he went on. “I think that he was probably responsible for my father’s death. I have always thought so.”