Vestiges of Time (12 page)

In the early part of February, if my record keeping and calculations are at all accurate, my own replicates were placed in the last of the series of developmental encanters, the ones in which they would grow to maturity and from which they would go into a more or less normal kind of existence.

The boys, the 337 duplicates of myself at twelve years of age—another three had died; however, I was told, this was a surprisingly low rate of attrition—all had long blond hair upon their heads, silken like that of girls, and pubic hair, still little more than pale fuzz, had begun to grow around their genitals. Puberty was coming to them, and I wasn’t at all certain that I was ready for that yet. Another 337 of
me
out running loose and leching after women. Mother, bar the door! Could the universe really stand that?

Meanwhile, the recording of my memories was progressing well, though it was a time-consuming operation, as KaphNo had warned me. In another month or six weeks, psychologist GrelLo assured me, the work would be all but completed and be ready for my editing, which should be accomplished rather quickly.

My training and education in other areas had been nearly completed by then, and I found myself with more free time than I’d had before, free time that I thought I should guard jealously, since once the replicates were finally decanted, I wasn’t likely to have any time of my own. Day and night I would be preparing
them
for the target day of the revolution, which I figured to be about 1 September 1973.

The lady OrDjina hadn’t spoken with me or approached me again, though I’d noticed her observing me at odd and unexpected times, and wondered just what in blazes she was up to. But then, could anyone answer that question for me?

As we looked through the index of tapes before the wall-filling holotank, EnDera asked, sounding as inno

cent as she could, “Is the lady OrDjina following you around?”

I looked up from the index display and said, trying to sound innocent too, “What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing.” Still little-girl innocent. “It’s just that she keeps turning up at the oddest places, but only when you’re there too.”

“So you’ve noticed it.”

“Uh-huh. Well, is she?”

“Following me? It looks that way.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “Damned if I know.”

“I don’t like it.” Jealousy in her voice?

“It is a little disturbing sometimes.”

“She must have a reason.”

“Maybe she just likes me.”

Jealousy in her face now. “She’d better keep her distance.”

“Oh?”

She nodded. “If she’s trying anything with you . . . well, if I don’t get her, the lord DessaTyso will.”

“The jealous type, is he?”

“Uh-huh. And he knows how to use that little gun he carries.”

“Does he really go around armed?”

“Uh-huh. He’s got a flat little pistol under his armpit. Nasty thing.”

I just nodded. I wasn’t surprised. And I thought I’d better watch myself if the lady OrDjina wanted to roll in the hay another time. Not that she wasn’t a very delightful partner, but I didn’t like the idea of being shot at by a jealous lover.

“And I’m the jealous type too, Harkos,” EnDera was saying, as if perhaps she’d caught a glimpse of the memories of OrDjina that were passing through my mind.

“Yeah, I’m beginning to realize that.” And maybe EnDera’s relationship with me was now more than just

an assignment from her superiors in the BrathelLanza. But then I’d suspected that for some time. “She’s a strange one,” I said aloud.

Enl>era grunted affirmatively.

“She’s not a NakrehVatea, is she?”

“No, she isn’t. If I understood correctly, she’s from somewhere in EkhoVro.” That was the political entity that governed a portion of southern Europe and areas of northern Africa in this Here and Now. “I don’t even think she’s ever become a citizen.” A smugness, a superiority in EnDera’s voice? I wasn’t certain.

“Then what’s she doing in the BrathelLanza?” I asked. “I thought only native-born NakrehVatea were allowed into the inner circle—except for me, of course.” “She’s here because of DessaTyso.” She didn’t give him his honorific, I noticed. Maybe she wasn’t any too fond of his lordship. “She has been his mistress for some time now, I understand, but his family doesn’t approve of her. They think he ought to have only native-born girls of his own caste sharing his bed. So there was something of a family brouhaha over her— and it wasn’t even kept in the family: the Blues got wind of what was going on and let it leak to the public, mention was even made of it at the Council of Forty, which got DessaTyso’s father, Lord DessaAnjoh, into hot water. The Reds supported DessaAnjoh in a vote of confidence in the council, but it put him in a bad spot for a while. The families of the members of the Council of Forty are supposed to be above reproach. Anyway, to smooth things over, DessaTyso let it be known that he was parting company with Lady OrDjina and pretended to send her away. Actually what he did was get AkweNema to consent to let her live down here, with a suite and all, and even a personal servant for her. He claimed she was always one of us in spirit anyway. And she seems satisfied enough—or so
I
thought. And I don’t doubt that DessaTyso is.”

“Must be a nice arrangement for him. This way he

can mix business and pleasure whenever he comes down.”

EnDera nodded.

“What do you know about her background before she was his mistress?”

“Not too much. Mostly gossip, rumors, you know. The story is that she was some sort of
entertainer
in EkhoVro. Now, I wouldn’t say exactly
what kind
of entertainer. Some say she was a singer or actress or something, but there are others who claim she did most of her work from flat on her back, and if she used her mouth it wasn’t to sing or talk.”

How right you are, I said to myself, but to EnDera I said, “I follow you. The same way she earns her keep now?”

“Exactly, only now it’s with just one man and not a parade of them. Anyway, it seems that there was this government minister in EkhoVro she got mixed up with; they had a very wild, flashy affair or something. He left his wife and family and moved in with OrDjina in a pleasure-house where she was performing as a nude dancer and maybe staging some private sex shows with male dancers—and even a baboon, so one story said. Anyway, when word of this got out, there was a major scandal and a shake-up in the government. The minister was relieved of his position and OrDjina found it wiser to leave the country the first chance she got.

“And exactly how a person with her reputation ever got a visa to enter NakrehVatee, I’m not certain, but it may be that the lord DessaTyso”—when she pronounced his honorific this time it was with a touch of sarcasm—“already knew her then and pulled some strings to get her admitted. Anyway, that’s what the Blue Chairman said, and that’s why DessaTyso’s father got in trouble. You just don’t mess with immigration rules, you know.”

“Still, it seems odd,” I said. “I mean, allowing an

alien like her into the very heart of something that’s supposed to be as secret as the BrathelLanza.”

“You’re an alien too, Harkos, at least technically.” “Well, I’ve got something the BrathelLanza needs— my skills.”

“OrDjina’s got something DessaTyso needs too—and it’s right between her thighs.”

“Okay. Okay.”

“Not that I’m saying I approve,” EnDera added quickly. “I can’t say that I like her or trust her, and neither does Akwe. One of the rules he set up and made DessaTyso agree to was that she wouldn’t be allowed to leave the Underground or communicate with another outsider prior to the revolution.”

“That sounds wise.”

“But I’m not certain Akwe can enforce it.”

“Why’s that?”

“If DessaTyso wants to smuggle her out some night when Akwe’s not around, who’s to stop him? KaphNo doesn’t have the authority, and I think he’s about the only one who’d even have the guts to try to stop him.” “I see what you mean.” I paused, then asked: “Do you think there’s any chance that she’s an agent of some foreign power? EkhoVro or some other country?” “The thought has crossed my mind. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. There’s just something, well, strange about her.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Harkos.” “So we’re in agreement.”

“As long as you don’t try to get firsthand information about her background
or
her professional skills.” “Don’t worry. I’d just as soon go to bed with a she- tiger.”

“That would be just about as safe as touching her, I promise you.”

“I accept the warning, and give you my promise that I’ll stay clear of her.” And maybe I really meant it.

EnDera laughed. “I wasn’t really worried.”

I glanced at the illuminated tape index and then back at EnDera. “Do you really want to look at a tape? I can think of a better way to pass the evening.”

“Yes, I believe I can too,” she said, a smile flickering across her lips as she began to open the loose gown she wore.

“Right here?” I asked as I reached for her, one hand entering the open gown and cupping a full breast.

“Right here would be fine,” EnDera replied in hardly more than a whisper, her hands beginning to tug at my clothing. “Right here would be delightful.”

The End of the BrathelLanza

On the morning of 4 March—of that date I am as certain as I am of any in my life: 4 March 1973—KaphNo joined me for breakfast. EnDera wasn’t there. The day before, she had gone up to the surface to transact some business concerning the sale of her paintings and to collect some sums of money due her, and although she had been expected to return by the evening of that day, she still wasn’t back the next morning.

I really wasn’t too worried about her: EnDera was a grown woman, and she could take care of herself in the streets of VarKhohs perhaps better than I could have myself; but I was a little on edge because of her absence, and even more so when KaphNo, over coffee and rolls, told me that EnDera wasn’t the only one who had failed to return from the upperworld during the past two days.

“Are you certain?” I asked him.

KaphNo nodded as he nibbled on a sweet roll, then said, “Day before yesterday two of my technicians went up to see about procuring some equipment for one of the labs—rheostats and such for electrical control units. They should have had no trouble obtaining them.”

“But they didn’t come back?”

KaphNo grunted. “I sent another technician up yesterday to find out what happened to them—they were young fellows, you know, and might have stopped for a drink and had a few too many. You know how it is. I wasn’t worried.
Then
I wasn’t worried.”

“You are now?”

He grunted again, munched his roll, and swallowed
106

with the aid of coffee. “The one I sent up to check on them didn’t come back either.”

I shook my head. “Any idea what’s going on?”

He shook his head in return. “None, but I did give Akwe a call last night, and he said he’d see that it was checked out from his end. I haven’t heard from
him
yet. Maybe he’ll call soon. I hope he does.”

“And now EnDera,” I said, mostly to myself.

“If I don’t hear from Akwe soon, I’ll punch him up again and have him get someone to check on her. Will that make you feel better?”

“I’ll feel better when I know she’s okay. Has anything like this ever happened before?”

KaphNo shook his head again, opened his mouth,, popped in the remnants of the roll, and washed it down with more coffee. “Don’t get too worried yet, Harkos. It may be nothing at all.”

“And it may be something.”

“Let’s hope not,” he said, and I remembered EnDera’s words: “Really, Harkos, we don’t have too many illusions down here. We know we’re under sentences of immediate execution on the spot, or prolonged torture in some of the lords’ dungeons, if we’re ever caught. We just hope we can put off being caught for a few more months.”

“Cheer up, boy,” KaphNo said as he refilled his coffee cup and reached across the table for another roll. “Your memory-recording sessions are just about over, aren’t they?”

“Another two or three days. Then we’ll start editing them.”

“GrelLo and her people are going to have to start pushing their end of it. ThefeRa and SkorTho are anxious to start giving the replicates some preliminary tapes.”

“It’s a little early for that, isn’t it?”

“Not for the most basic kinds of stuff, mainly muscular control, dexterity, that sort of thing. The boys are

at ML-14Y, you know.” There was in his voice a genuine affection for my replicates. “We could use some of the tapes we already have on this sort of thing, but we’d prefer to use yours from the start. It could save a lot of retraining later.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“And how are the other things going?”

“Well enough. I think I pretty well know my. job now, and who the bad guys are.”

KaphNo smiled. “And who. the good guys are too?” “They’re the ones I wonder about sometimes.” “Anyone in particular?”

“Yes. The lord DessaTyso’s playmate, the lady OrDjina.”

KaphNo gave me a serious look and nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. If it had been up to me, she would never have come down, here in the first place.”

“Do you think she could be a danger to us?” KaphNo tilted his head to one side, pursed his lips. “I don’t know,” he said seriously. “I can’t say that I entirely trust her, but she’s never given me any reason to think that she might be, well, a danger to us. I mean, I’ve no reason to think she’s a spy or a government agent or anything of that sort.”

I could have said that maybe I did, but I didn’t say that. If I were to tell
him
that much, then I’d have to tell him a lot of other things I didn’t want him to know, like who and what I really was and why I was there.

“I guess I’m just worrying too much,” I said finally. “In a place and a situation like this one, we all worry too much, Harkos. And it’s bad for the digestion.” Then he sighed and forced a smile onto his face. “But it won’t be much longer now. Two months or so more for the replicates to complete their maturation, and another two months or so to train them. In four months,