Getaway world, p.8
Getaway World, page 8
Consequently Jules spent most of his time alone in his cabin, resenting Yvette's growing affection for Nav and concocting elaborate and diabolical explanations for the Newforester's enigmatic behavior.
They were given exactly ten minutes' warning that the ship was about to break out of subspace above the surface of Sanctuary. They strapped themselves into their hammocks and experienced the familiar flickering of reality that marked the transition between normal and subetheric space. Then, in two more hours, they were going through the braking procedure as the Linnea Rose screamed down through the planetary atmosphere and settled gently on the spaceport field.
Then the passengers were herded out of the ship and into a long, low white building.
There, under a large sign that read "Welcome to Sanctuary," their luggage was opened and searched thoroughly before their eyes, so there could be no charges of theft later.
Their bodies were frisked, too, for any trace of weapons. "We don't like having guns loose on Sanctuary," one guard explained. "We prefer to keep it peaceful. You shouldn't need them here, anyhow; you're among your own kind."
The d'Alemberts allowed the guards to find their two ministunners, although the search was less strenuous than they expected. Jules thought of all the miniaturized electronic gadgetry he could have smuggled under the noses of these security people, but then realized that there would have been little point to it. All the microequipment in the Galaxy would not get them off the planet again. They would need a spaceship for that and the guards controlled the access to the spaceport quite thoroughly.
The SOTE agents weren't worried about being disarmed. The guards, who seemed to be plentiful, were quite well armed with both blasters and stunners. The two DesPlainians felt perfectly capable of tapping that resource when the time came. "The best agent,"
their father had told them many times, "is the one who's capable of improvising. If you plan things out too thoroughly beforehand, something's bound to go wrong somewhere along the line and leave you stranded."
After the search, they waited in the line to receive temporary quarters, much the same way that Helena did upon her arrival. Their interview went without a hitch, and they did nothing to arouse the suspicions of the clerk, so their pictures were not flashed directly to Garst-which was a lucky thing. Had he seen them, he would have ordered them killed on the spot. He remembered only too well how this pair of agents demolished his organization back on Vesa.
But Jules and Yvette looked to be exactly what they claimed, so the photo images of them were attached to their records and routinely filed away. Such was the advantage of a solid cover identity.
Like all new arrivals, the d'Alemberts were assigned to temporary quarters until they decided where they wanted to live. Their rooms were in a wooden barracks building and, while more spacious than the cabins aboard ship, were still a far cry from the luxuries they had been led to expect. The literature they were given, however, explained that they could take their pick of any style accommodations they could afford, from economical to extravagant.
"Wow, look at some of these places," Yvette exclaimed to her brother. Both agents were sure that these rooms, too, were bugged, so they were being very careful to watch what they said while indoors. "I want to live in an apartment like this," and she pointed to one set of pictures that, true to real-estate-brochure form, were more beautiful than true.
Jules looked at the picture his sister indicated, and pretended to be concerned about their financial state. "We can't afford that," he said flatly. "We'll take a two bedroom place like this one over here instead. At a hundred and fifty rubles a month, it'll allow us a little more spending money for other things we may need."
They had a mock argument on the subject, with Yvette eventually giving in. "You're always too practical," she declared.
The next day they moved into a two-bedroom apartment similar to the one in the brochure, though not as picture perfect. Yvette admitted grudgingly that it would be acceptable, and the argument ended there.
In the meantime, too, they had been reading the bookreel they'd been given entitled YOUR GUIDE TO SANCTUARY. At present the planet contained only the one city, which had a population of over 27,000. Of that population, almost two-thirds were "refugees"
like the d'Alemberts, with the rest being employees of the government-service personnel to perform the tasks that needed doing. The clients could take it easy in what was essentially a retirement village.
No effort had been spared in an attempt to keep the immigrants happy with their new lives. The community was beautifully planned, with apartment buildings skillfully blended into the natural landscape. Nothing was crowded together. There were parks and greenery everywhere one looked, and the effect was most pleasing to the eye. There were plenty of swimming pools and gymnasia, sports areas, shops, theaters, restaurants, bars, casinos and other places where the newly located citizens could pass their time without fear of the police.
A more critical observer would have noticed some important omissions in the book's text, however. Nowhere was there any mention of government, or how the people might regulate their own lives. There was no mention of communicating with anyone offworld.
And nowhere did it say a word about leaving the planet again. Ever.
Sanctuary was, in reality, a penitentiary without bars. Luxury plus, it was true, but a prison nonetheless. The inmates must have realized that fact, at least on a subconscious level. For the most part these were people who had lived hard lives as criminals, and they could not easily adjust to unlimited leisure. Drinks and drugs were consumed on a vast scale, and scarcely a day went by without several major brawls erupting in the bars.
Sanctuary, at best, was an imperfect paradise.
Now that the d'Alemberts were finally here, they could concentrate on their real assignment, which was to find Helena and make sure she'd be able to escape from here safely. Jules had thought this would mean his sister would finally stop seeing Nav socially and work with him again. To his chagrin, he found this was not so.
"Look at it this way," Yvette said as the two of them were taking a stroll along an isolated path. They had found themselves taking a lot of walks since coming here; it was one way of making sure their conversations would not be bugged. "There are more than 7,000 people here, and we're looking for one particular one. We'll double our chances of spotting her if we split up and look individually. If Pias wants to escort me all over the city, what better excuse for me to be out and looking at things? That'll leave you free to look in the places where I don't go."
The fact that her plan was contradictory to his own wishes and yet made so much sense at the same time only served to make Jules more upset. "He's not being honest with you," he insisted. "There's something more sinister in him than he's showing."
"You keep making these vague accusations. You've been keeping a close watch on him for over a week now; haven't you learned anything more definite?"
Reluctantly, then, Jules told her about Nav's strange behavior in Carnery's cabin the second day aboard ship. Yvette listened attentively, then was silent for a long moment after her brother had finished. "I knew there was something unusual between Pias and Carnery; I could feel it from the very first moment Pias spoke about the man. Khorosho, so maybe he has a personal grudge against Carnery for some reason. Is that any ex- cuse for me not to like him?"
"You didn't see the expression on his face. I tell you, that man is dangerous."
"All men are dangerous," Yvette smiled. "That's one of the first lessons a girl learns when she grows up. If we let that stop us, the human race would have been extinct millennia ago. Is that all the evidence you have against him?"
"No. He's lying to us about his identity, too. I found a handkerchief in his cabin with the monogram 'PB' in one corner."
"We're lying to him about our identities, too, you know. I'm not really Yarmilla Dubcek. I can see a number of circumstances where it might be convenient for a professional gambler to change his name frequently. It's not the name I care about, it's the person behind it. He's a good man, Julie; I know that as surely as I know anything in the Universe."
She leaned over and kissed her brother lightly on the forehead. "It's very sweet of you to be so concerned about me, really it is. I know it's because you love me, and I love you too. But remember, I'm a year older than you are. I can take care of myself, honestly I can. We're not Siamese twins, I do have a life of my own. I don't begrudge you the time you spend with VoDnie, please grant me the same courtesy."
She glanced at her ringwatch. "I really don't have time to talk about it further right now-I promised to meet Pias in ten more minutes, and if I hurry I can just make it. I'll keep in mind what you've told me about him, and I'll keep my eyes open for any sign of Helena at the same time. That is my primary purpose here, and I know that as well as you do. But let me do it in my own way. A bientot." And she walked hurriedly away, leaving Jules to feel very frustrated by his inability to convinct her of Nav's dangerous potential.
She's making an idiot of herself, he thought angrily. But he realized at the same time that his sister was a very strong-willed woman, and that he was not going to change her mind with a couple of words. Putting her problem out of his mind for the moment, he concentrated on looking for Helena instead.
Yvette met Pias Nav at a restaurant that specialized in Nagalese food. Although he was already seated at a table right in front, she pretended not to spot him immediately, which gave her the opportunity to give the room a general scan. There was no sign of Helena, so she acknowledged Nav's wave and went-to sit beside him.
He stood up as she approached and bent to kiss her hand, as was his custom. They ordered the specialty of the house, which was a platter of raw fish with a large side helping of vegetables dipped in batter and deep fat fried. There was a wide variety of sauces in which to dip their foods, which made the meal an exploration into a broad range of taste treats.
Midway through the meal, the Newforester suddenly looked up at her and changed the topic of their hitherto innocuous conversation. "Your brother doesn't like me, does he?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not blind, Yarmilla. Whenever he's in the same room with us I can feel those icy stares he sends me. And the curtness of his words is indication enough that he really doesn't want to talk to me much. Is he giving you a hard time because of me?"
"He is upset," Yvette said slowly. As she spoke she was wondering how to phrase herself in the most diplomatic way possible. "He feels very protective, even though I'm a bit older than he is. Our family pride is very strong, and he's afraid I might marry beneath our station."
Pias Nav gave a brief chuckle. "What's so funny?" Yvette asked him.
With an effort, the Newforester returned his face to its previous serious countenance.
"Oh, nothing really. I, uh, was just wondering how far below your station I was. I'm a gambler and you're a cat burglar, after all. We both rate pretty low on the scale."
Yvette cursed herself for the slip. Their father was the Duke of the planet DesPlaines, though he preferred to travel with the Circus as its Manager. Marriages between nobility and commoners were routine, and even encouraged in some circles, so there could be no legal bar to Yvette's marrying Nav if she chose; nevertheless, she was certain their rank was one factor weighing on Jules's mind. But stating it the way she had did give the impression that her origins were loftier than she was admitting.
Fortunately, the Newforester seemed to be treating her statement almost as a joke. In this context, it was ludicrous to be worried about her "station."
"I don't think Jaro would consider any man good enough for me," Yvette elucidated.
"Fraternal jealousy is a very strong motivational force. But perhaps you wouldn't know about that."
"Indeed I would," Nav replied. "I have three sisters myself. Two of them married men whom I consider total louts; the third is only sixteen, so I haven't had the chance to worry much about her yet. But I know the worry a brother goes through. Especially on Newfor- est-we consider our women almost sacred there. The ancient customs die hard."
He looked at Yvette for a long, silent minute and then repeated, "Very sacred."
Yvette's mouth was suddenly dry, but she forced herself to keep her tone light as she asked the next important question. "Does my brother's opinion really matter that much to you?"
"Yes." Nav barely whispered the word, but it hung in the air between them as though he'd shouted it. "That is, it should, except... I don't know anymore, I really don't. I shouldn't let it affect me so. We're just a couple of wayfarers who have happened to this place together; we should enjoy ourselves and not think much about the future, correct?"
Yvette had never seen her friend so serious. The confusion of his thoughts seemed almost a mirror to her own. "Yes, that's very much the way I felt. Things work out so strangely at times; we may have to part and never see one another again, so why should we get more strongly involved than we are now?"
"Exactly," he nodded. "Marriage and the like is completely out of the question."
"I never brought the subject up."
"And I never meant to," he said slowly. "Let's forget I did." He stared down at his nearly empty plate. "I think I've had about all the food I want, right now. Let's go for a walk, shall we?"
Once outside in the open air, his mood brightened considerably. The location of this city had been chosen primarily for its mild climate, and the weather today was even more perfect than normal. The sunshine quickly restored the gaiety to his voice. They walked hand in hand across the cool grass of a nearby park, not saying much when suddenly, on impulse, he turned to her and said, "I know what let's do. Let's go to a sensible show."
"Great idea," she smiled back.
He had his hat-with its ever-present fresh red rose-in his hand, and waved it about excitedly. "A very romantic one-melodrama with a happy ending, hero and heroine deeply in love despite all obstacles and a kiss at the fadeout."
Yvette laughed as Pias mimed a swordfight, stabbing his imaginary adversary at last with a comical flourish. "Yes, touche," she said. "That's exactly what we need. Lead on, milord, lead on!"
The two young people walked to a streetcorner and pushed a button on the call post.
Within two minutes, an automated two-seater cart buzzed quietly to a stop in front of them and they got in. Nav dialed the code for the public sensible theater, and the screen in front lit up to tell him how much it would cost to drive there from here. Nav obediently dropped seven twenty-kopek pieces into the slot and began the leisurely drive to their destination.
The cart proceeded along at its standard pace of fifteen kilometers an hour. On the street, they passed several other similar carts, traveling at more or less the same speed.
These carts were the only public methods of transportation on the planet, though the d'Alemberts surmised that the guards had vehicles that could travel much faster if they needed to get somewhere in a real hurry. The lack of speedy transportation added to the leisurely atmosphere of Sanctuary-and, incidentally, would serve to keep any rebellion on the part of the inmates from getting out of hand. Jules and Yvette had been properly impressed by the ingenuity of the system.
Nav and Yvette arrived at the theater and found a private booth of their own. The two of them looked down the list of available shows and discussed their choice at length, finally settling on a costume epic set in Renaissance France. Then, leaning back in the special chairs, they prepared to enjoy the show.
In principle, the sensible projector worked much the same way a stun-gun did. Each device shot a special beam at its target that affected the nervous system of the recipient.
In the case of a stunner, the effects would be paralysis, unconsciousness or even death, depending on the setting used. The projector, however, had effects that were much more intricate than that.
The sensible, in brief, took over all the senses of the body and played its show to them, rather than just the senses of sight and sound as previous media had done. The person undergoing the experience was not merely a viewer, he was a participant in the action itself. Although his mind remained aware that he was physically seated within a sensible booth, all his senses told him that he was experiencing the story that was happening around him. He could see and hear the events as his -"character" felt them; he was assailed by the scents of the scene; if the "character" ate, he could taste the foods.
Anything the "character" felt--pain, pleasure, running, standing-the participant also experienced. In essence, the participant was a puppet, acting out the story the play's creators told while still sitting comfortably in a chair in the sensible booth. It was perhaps the ultimate in vicarious entertainment.
The show that Nav and Yvette were experiencing was one designed specifically for a romantic couple. There were two major roles, the hero and heroine, and the two participants acted out their parts with great relish. Yvette particularly found her role diverting. The heroine was a passive woman who needed the hero to rescue her from all sorts of dire circumstances. In real life she would never have put up with such a state of affairs, but she thought it was amusing in a fictional context.
They left the theater in a very exhilarated state, completely recovered from the upset their dinner conversation had brought about. "I've always felt that I belonged in an era like that one," Nav remarked as he punched the button on the call post for another cart.
"Look at the situation of the Universe today. Where are the great Romantics who would languish for a rose? Who scaled milady's balcony and swung upon her drape? They've flown like ashes, I'm afraid, leaving the world to shopkeepers and accountants."
"There's always you." Yvette said admiringly.
"Yes, we reappear in flashes, relics of a loner-lamented age-but we find ourselves contrary to the vogue," he sighed. "I feel perpetually as though I should go around with a sword and a rose and a cape."
