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"Isn't that overreacting? I mean, the Guard has survived centuries of power
plots."
"We don't think so. Not this time."
"Who's we, and why are you so convinced this time?"
"Dive again?" she asked.
"You keep talking about 'us.' And you keep avoiding my questions.
You still haven't answered what you want from me. You haven't said why you
think this rumored plotter, who could merely be a student of history, could do
what no one else could do, and you haven't identified your mysterious group
that's so involved with tracking down this rumored schemer."
As she cocked her head to think up an answer she hoped I'd accept, I
had another thought. Was the whole meal a gimmick to see if I'd reveal
anything?
"I'd rather not say more, not right now. A number of us are concerned. As for
what we want from you, it's simple enough. You keep your word, and we want
your word, that you won't meddle in the domestic affairs of the Guard or
Query."
I had to laugh, and that surprised Verdis more than anything I could have
said. "Verdis, does that mean I should promise your vague conspiracy that I
won't try and set myself up as High Tribune? You make me sick. As if I wanted
to become emperor of this time-flying gopher hole!" I wanted out of the Inn,
then and there. "Or does it mean I
should stand idly by as you and your company take over the Guard?"
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"Loki, that's not what I meant at all!" Her protest was pretty loud
at that. "You plod on in your own world, buried in Maintenance, oblivious to
everything. Eranas is making noises about stepping down, and Heimdall is
bluntly suggesting he ought to be selected to replace
Eranas. Everyone wonders who is staking out past history, and why, and what
really happened to Baldur, and in the meantime, Heimdall has gained a few more
loyal followers. Frey is given more responsibility he can't handle, and Tyron
covers for him. And you don't pay any attention at all."
I wished I'd left earlier. I could tell Verdis I cared, and blow myself out of
the water, because what I intended wasn't what she wanted. Or I could say I
didn't care and be lumped with the Guard establishment she'd so lovingly
described. Like so many times before, I
said nothing. The songfest in the other room had degenerated into assorted
conversations. Phrases drifted through the archway as I looked down at the
remnants of my scampig and Verdis looked at me.
" ... Guard'll last forever ... Loki for Tribune ... never happen
... not with the bitch goddess ... fly Kyra ... sheep, and they'll never care
... who'll do the dirty work? ... "
"Put that way," I said finally, because I had to get out of the Inn, "I guess
I don't pay attention. But maybe I ought to. Maybe I ought to."
I pulled myself together and walked out into the antechamber. I
jumped back to the Aerie. Every morsel of strength I had left was what it took
to get undressed and sprawled under the regenerator.
XVIII
One night under the regenerator was enough to start my shoulder well on the
way to healing and to remove the pain, though I was more than a little stiff
when the morning sun floated into the Aerie.
The burn twinged when I moved quickly, but I was in a hurry in getting cleaned
up and dressed. Heimdall was always punctual, and I
wanted to be in the Maintenance Hall before he arrived at the Tower.
The Tower was deserted, except for the duty trainees, when I slid in and
trotted down the ramps.
The production equipment I had set up in the corner didn't take more than a
few units to ready. Shortly after I fed in the parameter formula, little,
black boxes, each with a locator tag and a power cell within, began popping
out the other end of the system into a time-
shielded bin.
The shielding might have been an unnecessary precaution, but I had warped the
plastic edges into the back-time easily enough, and with all the rumors being
circulated I figured it might save me a bit of grief.
Who wanted Locator to register a thousand "Lokis" in Maintenance?
After the first units dropped into the bin, I took one and ducked behind one
of the older machines for a quick time-dive back to Abelard.
I dropped off the little black box there, stuffed it under the roots of some
plant, and dived back to Query.
As I broke-out in the Maintenance Hall, I checked around, but saw no one. If
my black gadget worked as designed, it should already have been registering my
"presence" on Abelard.
Then I began my regular work by assigning the repairs which had been brought
down by the duty trainees. Brendan arrived within units and carted off his
share. I carried Narcissus's to his space, and Brendan came back and delivered
Elene's.
Before he got out of sight, I gestured. "Would you start to work on setting up
what Dercia will need? No hurry, but I'm leaving it up to you. Unless you run
into something strange."
"Be happy to."
Brendan could be a real pleasure to work with, probably would end up a better
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Maintenance supervisor than I had ever been.
As I ran through the routine jobs I'd assigned myself, the equipment in the
rows behind me continued to produce black boxes.
I needed access to a locator terminal, preferably when no one knew what I was
doing. Terminals existed in three places

the Personnel
Hall, under the scrutiny of Gilmesh and Ferrin; the Tribunes' spaces which
were guarded full-time; and the Locator section, which had a full-time duty
staff.
With all the concerns Verdis had mentioned, especially that bit about the
Tribunes' interest, I wasn't too interested in a repeat of my imitation of
Frey and the nighttime follies. While no Guard or Tribune would ever get me
back on Hell, skulking around after hours would create more problems than it
would solve.
Paradoxically, my success in Maintenance had denied me the one legitimate
access to a locator terminal I used to have. When the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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