Chapter 39

 

Scholar lurked in the alleyway. It was as dark as anyplace ever got on Linas-Drias. He was in one of the farflung residential areas. Most of the houses were separate, even if it was only by a few inches. The one he watched had land around it. All of it was surrounded by high walls and higher security measures. There was a power grid above the walls. The grounds were webbed with similar fields. He adjusted his gloves, waiting for the lights in the house to go out.

Having unlimited access to Lowell's sources was very helpful. He had on a black suit that would render him almost invisible to the fields. He had his comp pad programmed for the other fields. It was incredible what information money would buy, if you had enough of it.

He'd spent over a week sniffing out Commander Theodys' trail. It was full of deceptions, dead ends, and false leads. Scholar had left an encrypted file for Lowell containing all of the evidence he'd found so far. It was buried in the planetary datanet in a way that only Lowell would know how to retrieve. Anyone else stumbling across it would find only fragments of words, nothing that would make any sense.

Theodys' trail had led here, to this house and its reclusive owner. She had buried her identity so deeply that not even Scholar could be certain he had the right information. Theodys was part of the conspiracy, but not the heart or even the brains. He was muscle, nothing more.

Scholar flexed his hand again. He wasn't the type to want to do the actual breaking and entering. He much preferred to let his programming do his spying for him. But there was no other way into this house. It was completely isolated, like its occupant.

He'd seen her once. She wore a veil that covered everything from her waist up. Her hands had been gloved. She wore a long dress in a shade of silver that looked soft instead of metallic. He had followed her from a distance as she was escorted into an exclusive and very private restaurant by Theodys himself. That had peaked Scholar's curiosity about her.

The only way he was going to be able to either eliminate or include the woman on his list of conspirators was if he searched her house. Personally. Himself. In person. He flexed his hands nervously.

She had left an hour ago, her flitter gliding away to the east. There was only one servant in the house. Scholar was waiting for her to go to sleep.

The light finally flicked off. Scholar took a steadying breath and checked the street. He glanced up. There was the usual stream of traffic, but it was high overhead and too distant to notice him. The street was clear, quiet and unused at this hour of the night.

He moved quickly across the clear space. He paused, flattened in a shadow at the corner of the wall, and adjusted his frequency modulator to match the current field above him. He reached for the top of the wall, jumping silently. His hands caught and his gloves tore. The top of the wall was embedded with razor sharp stones. There was enough webbing in the gloves to keep his hands from shredding. He'd expected something like this.

He found places to wedge his fingers. He used his feet to scramble up the wall. He crouched on top, avoiding the glittering shards. The garden below was dark, shadowy shapes of trees reaching spidery hands for him. He jumped down, landing lightly.

He crouched and took another reading. There were motion sensors, closer to the house. He'd have to step lightly to avoid those. So far, his suit was working. The fields saw nothing more than a small blur. The warning sensors were programmed to bypass those signatures. It was too annoying to answer dozens of false alarms every night. Despite Linas-Drias being almost entirely covered with city, wild animals still managed to exist, roaming gardens and alleys at will. Scholar hoped the motion sensors would register him as a stray cat, although they were harder to fool.

He pulled on the night vision lenses. The garden was outlined in eerie blue light. He ghosted through the plants and up to the house. The rays of the motion detectors showed up as red streaks. He dodged through them, careful never to trip more than one at a time.

There was a space, about two feet deep and three wide, right next to the house where no sensors were set. He slid into it and leaned against the outer wall of the house. There was a sudden burst of hissing around him. He started up the wall, moving quickly. Water began to spray through the garden. It was only the watering system.

He didn't stop. He was already halfway to a window. It was invitingly open. It could be a trap, he thought. He clung to the sculpted plascrete wall as he made a quick decision. There was another window farther to his right. It was securely closed. He went to it instead. He could always check out the open one later.

The window was blank, a dark sheet of glass polarized so light only passed from the outside in. He had no idea what was on the other side. He listened, but there was only the sound of the sprinklers below.

He felt along the edge of the window, locating the sensors and the latch. He was in luck. The security system on the window was poor. They were apparently relying on the outer sensors and the web overhead to keep people out.

Scholar pulled out his micropad and balanced it on the lip below the window. He shifted his grip to one hand, hoping his toes could keep their hold on the narrow ledge below. He used his teeth to pull off his glove. The micropad blinked rapidly as it read the security codes. He typed a series of commands. The lights flickered to pale green. The latch on the window clicked open. The window swung inwards a scant inch. Scholar collected his pad and his glove, tucking both into the front of his suit.

He peered through the barely open window. It appeared to be vacant. The few pieces of furniture in the room were shrouded in white cloth. He eased himself over the sill, pushing the window wide as he climbed in. He swung it shut behind him, almost until the latch caught but not quite.

He slipped across the room and listened at the door. His pad showed no unusual readings. There were no vibrations of sound. He reached for the knob and remembered in time to slip his glove back on before actually touching it. No sense in leaving evidence behind.

He eased the door open, just enough to peer into the hallway beyond. The lights were dim. He let himself into the hall.

If his plans were accurate, the study would be at the far end of the hall. That would be the best place to search.

He walked silently down the hall, keeping to the side to avoid creaking floors. He stopped at the top of a long staircase. The lights at the bottom flicked on. He froze. He heard cupboards opening and water running. After a very long moment, the light clicked back off. He let out his breath in a long sigh. His heart was racing. He really didn't like this part of the job.

The door at the far end was slightly ajar. He slipped inside the room without checking it. So far everything had been as planned. He didn't expect trouble.

A flat screen shed dim light on a console in the corner. He went to it and touched the screen. It came to life, glowing a clear blue.

"You won't find anything there," a woman's voice said softly behind him.

He whirled around.

She was there, minus the veil. She was young, much younger than he had expected. Her hair was blond, pale gold, tied in an intricate knot on top of her head. Her eyes were pale blue. She looked carved from ice.

She wasn't alone. There were two men with her. He recognized Commander Theodys.

"I told you there was a spy," the woman said to him. "You led him here, Theodys. I can't tolerate that."

Theodys went white, his hands clutching into fists. "I swear to you, Lady, he didn't follow me."

"But he did." Her smile was soft as she touched his lips. "I will expect to hear of your unfortunate suicide within two days, my love."

"Please," he begged.

"I cannot tolerate such sloppiness." She turned away from him, dismissing him. "As for you, Henrius Grey, you must disappear."

"He may have information," the other man said.

"Of which I am fully aware," the woman said. "No, he will not die. Not yet."

Her smile was mesmerizing. Scholar stiffened as she approached him, her skirt whispering across the floor. She reached out to him. He flinched away. He tried to duck past her, to run. Her fingernails scraped across his cheek. They were long, painted silver. They were also drugged. He staggered. Whatever the drug was, it worked quickly. His legs went numb and he sprawled across the open doorway. His arms were flaccid and unresponsive. He labored to breathe.

She leaned over him. He could smell her perfume, a haunting touch of ice and clear skies. She smiled. "Perhaps I will keep this one for my own amusement. He is handsome." She brushed his cheek with the back of her hand. "But so untrustworthy." Her hand turned over. She traced a spiral across his face with one fingernail.

He fought the drug. And lost. He was swept away into darkness. His last thought was regret that he hadn't left details of what he planned behind. No one would know where he'd ended up. No one would know what happened to him. He'd been so certain…