Prophet, p.7
Prophet, page 7
“Why?”
“That is none of your concern.”
“Before I accept a commission, I always like to know why I'm being asked to kill someone.”
“Thus far you have accepted commissions only from normal men.”
“And you are not a normal man?”
The Anointed One opened his mouth. “Between my teeth is the space.” He pointed to his ear. “On my left ear is the mole, on my right shoulder is the birthmark. I was born on the fourth day of the fourth month, and the sun was hidden by the moon. There can be no doubt that I am the Anointed One.”
“Meaning no disrespect, My Lord,” said Lomax, “but granting that you are the Anointed One, just what exactly does that mean?”
“I am he whom the race of Man has awaited for lo, these many eons. It is my destiny to unite the race, to bring order out of chaos, to expand Man's dominion to the farthest reaches of the galaxy.”
“I though the Democracy was doing just that.”
“I forgive you your disrespect, for you are not yet a true believer,” said the Anointed One. “But know that the Democracy is merely my forerunner, that now that I have arrived upon the scene, the Democracy's days are numbered. God has chosen me to be His conduit to the race of Man, to rule them as He wishes them ruled. Do you see the throne upon which I sit?”
“Yes.”
The Anointed One's face took on a fanatical glow. “God has instructed me to rule the galaxy from this throne, to bring it with me to Sirius V and to Earth and ultimately to place it in a palace that I will build upon Deluros VIII, from which I shall finally fulfill my destiny and rule His vast domain.”
“It sounds as if you've got your work cut out for you,” said Lomax noncommittally.
“I am closer to completion of the Almighty's design than you might think,” replied the Anointed One with absolute conviction. “More than 200 worlds have already pledged their allegiance to me, and even as we speak my followers are converting the masses upon thousands more.”
“Why should a man who controls hundreds of worlds and tens of millions of followers, and who plans to take over the capital work of the Democracy, be concerned with a tavern owner far out at the edge of the Inner Frontier?” asked Lomax, honestly curious. “What kind of threat can the Iceman possibly present to you?”
“Mendoza?” repeated the Anointed One. “He himself presents no threat at all.”
“Then why do you want him dead?”
“I told you before: it is not your concern.”
“Perhaps not—but if you want me to kill him, you're going to have to tell me.”
“Do you dare give orders to Moses Mohammed Christ?” demanded the Anointed One.
“No, My Lord,” said Lomax, bowing once again. “Please be assured that I meant no offense.” He paused. “I thought we could do business together. I was mistaken.”
The Anointed One stared long and hard at Lomax. “Why should I believe that you can kill him when so many others have failed?”
“First, because I'm the best there is,” answered Lomax promptly. “And second, because I've been to Last Chance before. My presence won't alert him.”
“I can hire other men who have been to Last Chance.”
“True,” agreed Lomax. “But Last Chance is the Iceman's world, and he's well-protected. They won't be able to kill him.” He paused. “I will.”
The Anointed One placed a fist to his chin and stared at Lomax again, even longer this time. Finally he spoke.
“If you carry out this assignment successfully,” he said slowly, as if weighing each word, “there will be others. You will find that I can be as generous when rewarding success as I can be unforgiving when dealing with failure.” He paused. “Because you cannot yet comprehend the true extent of my power, and because you are not yet conversant in the ways of the One Faith, and because Carlos Mendoza must die, I shall forgive you your transgression this one time, and tell you what you want to know.”
“Thank you, My Lord.”
“But thereafter, should you fulfill your commission, you will never question an order or an assignment again,” continued the Anointed One. “Is that clear?”
“Perfectly, My Lord.”
“Then listen closely, for I will not repeat myself,” said the Anointed One. “Eventually the Democracy will yield to my will. Even the billion ships of its vaunted Navy will be unable to oppose me.” He paused for a moment, looking at some distant point that only he could see. “In the entire galaxy, there is only one force capable of standing against me, of subverting the will of God and stopping me from bringing my throne to Deluros VIII.”
“The Iceman?” said Lomax, frowning in disbelief.
“I told you to listen, not to speak,” said the Anointed One harshly. “Carlos Mendoza presents no threat to me whatsoever. But he is the only person ever to survive an encounter with my only true opponent. If she has a reason to let him live, then I care not what that reason is—I want him dead.”
“She?” asked Lomax.
“Like myself, she is committed to the death of the Democracy, and yet she has chosen to align herself against me as well, which will eventually cost her her life—but not before millions have spilled their blood,” answered the Anointed One.
“Who are you talking about?”
“Her given name is unimportant,” he continued, “but in the past four years she has emerged from obscurity and assumed her true identity. She is the Prophet.”
Part 2:
THE ICEMAN'S BOOK
8.
The Silicon Kid, resplendent in a colorful new outfit and shining black boots, walked into The End of the Line tavern, waited for the doors to slide shut behind him, and looked around. This was more what the Inner Frontier was supposed to look like, he decided; gamblers and whores, miners and adventurers, all of them armed, all of them real or potential killers. The Blue Pavilion really belonged in the Democracy; The End of the Line belonged exactly where it was, in a Tradertown on a tiny Frontier world called Last Chance.
He looked around the room once more, happily aware that a number of the clients were staring at him curiously, and nodded his head in satisfied approval. Finally he walked over to the bar.
“What'll it be?” asked the Iceman, limping over to serve him.
“A beer.”
“Coming right up.”
The Iceman took an empty glass over to a tap, murmured “Pour", waited a moment, ordered it to stop, and slid the glass down the bar to the Silicon Kid.
“Want to run a tab?” asked the Iceman.
“No, one beer's all I want,” said the Kid, sliding some hexagonal coins down the bar. He paused and stared intently at the Iceman.
“Is something wrong?” asked the Iceman, eyeing the Kid suspiciously.
“That's funny,” said the Kid.
“What is?”
“You sure as hell don't look like a living legend.”
“Well, to tell you the truth, I don't feel much like one,” answered the Iceman. “But just out of curiosity, what does a living legend look like?”
“I don't know,” said the Kid. “But not like you.” He paused. “Still, you must be as formidable as they say, just to get as old as you are.”
“Son, let me give you a little friendly advice, if I may,” said the Iceman, studying the Kid intently.
“What is it?”
“Whether or not I'm as formidable as they say, I'm formidable enough.” He paused. “You can't see them, but there are four guns trained on you at this very moment, so my advice to you is not to do anything you might not live long enough to regret.”
“Four?” said the Kid, surprised. He looked around the room once more. “Where are they?”
“That,” said the Iceman with a grim smile, “would be telling.” He paused again. “And speaking of telling, perhaps you'd like to tell me just what you're doing on Last Chance?”
“I came here to find you.”
“Okay, you found me,” said the Iceman. “What now?”
“Now I deliver the Gravedancer's message.”
The Iceman stared at him. “What do you know about the Gravedancer?” he asked at last.
“You might say that we're partners, in a manner of speaking,” answered the Kid.
“No, I don't think I'd say that,” replied the Iceman. “Men like Lomax don't take on partners.”
“Well,” said the Kid, mildly flustered, “he gave me his ship and he trusted me to deliver a message to you.”
“Okay,” said the Iceman. “What is it?”
“Right here?” asked the Kid. “At the bar?”
The Iceman looked amused. “There's no one within thirty feet of us. Would you rather tell me next to the roulette wheel—or maybe in the men's room?”
The Kid shrugged and leaned on the bar. “The man who put out the hit on you is a religious cult leader called the Anointed One.”
The Iceman frowned. “I never heard of him. Why does he want me dead?”
“I don't know.”
The Iceman began drying a glass with a bar towel while he considered what he'd been told. “Why didn't Lomax just radio me the message?” he asked. “Why send you?”
“He was going off to meet with the Anointed One, and, well...”
“And you weren't invited?”
The Kid nodded his head.
“Well, that's what comes of being a junior partner.”
“There's more,” said the Kid.
“Oh?”
The Kid pulled out Lomax's ring. “He said to show you this.”
“All right, I've seen it,” said the Iceman. “It's his. Now, what's the rest of the message?”
“That no matter what you hear on the grapevine, he's not out to kill you.”
“Am I going to hear that on the grapevine?” asked the Iceman.
“He seems to think so.”
“So he met with this Anointed One under the guise of a freelance killer?”
“You're very quick.”
“Well, let's hope the Anointed One didn't offer him so much money that he forgets where his loyalties lie.”
“He wouldn't do that,” said the Kid.
“You'd be surprised what people would do for money,” said the Iceman. He pulled a bottle out from behind the bar, picked up a couple of glasses, and limped over to an empty table not too far from the doorway. “Come on, young man,” he said. “We've got some talking to do.”
The Kid followed him to the table and sat down opposite him.
“Have a drink,” said the Iceman, filling both glasses and shoving one over to the Kid. “On the house.”
“Thanks. What is it?”
“A whiskey they make over in the Binder system.”
The Kid took a sip. It burned his tongue and throat, but he forced a smile to his face. “Good,” he muttered.
“Don't ever take a job as a diplomat or a politician,” said the Iceman wryly.
“I beg your pardon.”
“You're a lousy liar.”
“I said I liked it,” said the Kid irritably, downing the rest of the drink in a single gulp, then fighting unsuccessfully to stifle a strangled cough.
“How the hell did Lomax ever hook up with you?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” demanded the Kid.
“It means I want to know how the hell Lomax hooked up with you,” the Iceman repeated calmly.
“I did him a favor back on Greycloud.”
“What kind?”
“I saved his life.”
The Iceman stared at him. “You?” he said with open disbelief.
“Me.”
“I'd ask how, but you'd probably tell me.”
“You think I'm lying?” asked the Kid heatedly.
“Let's just say that I think you're exaggerating,” said the Iceman. “You'd better be,” he added. “If Lomax needed you to save his life, I hired the wrong man—and I didn't get to be this old by misjudging the people I hire.” He paused. “Where did you come across the Anointed One?”
“We didn't. We made contact with one of his men on Olympus, but I don't know where the Anointed One himself is.”
“What do you know about him?”
“Not much. Just that he's some kind of cult leader, and he wants you dead.”
“You're sure it's a he you're talking about, and not a she?” asked the Iceman, finally taking a sip of his drink.
“Yeah. At least, Korbekkian—that's his man on Olympus, the guy who keeps hiring men to kill you—Korbekkian kept calling him he. Why?” asked the Kid. “Is there some woman with a grudge against you?”
“Anything's possible,” said the Iceman. “I just want to make sure she's not calling herself the Anointed One these days.”
“So there's a woman out there somewhere who wants to kill you,” repeated the Kid, his face alight with interest. “What did you do to her?”
“It's a long story,” said the Iceman, downing the remainder of his drink.
“I'm all ears.”
“It's also none of your business,” said the Iceman.
“You know, you're not the friendliest guy I ever met,” said the Kid.
“Look,” said the Iceman. “I've had five men try to kill me in the past couple of months, men I've never seen before. Now you show up out of the blue to tell me that some religious nut I've never heard of wants me dead, and that any day now I'm going to hear that the Gravedancer is working for him. Now, some people might feel friendly under these circumstances, but I don't happen to be one of them.”
“But I'm here to help you,” said the Kid.
“You?” said the Iceman with an amused smile. “What can you do?”
“You'd be surprised.”
The Iceman shrugged. “Probably I would be.” He paused. “What's your name?”
“They call me the Silicon Kid.”
“Who does?”
The Kid swallowed hard. “Anyone who's met me since I left Greycloud,” he answered lamely.
“All ten of ’em, eh?” said the Iceman. “Well, it's an interesting name, especially for a young man who seems to be all flesh and blood. How did you come by it?”
“The Gravedancer gave it to me.”
“In that case, I'm properly impressed,” said the Iceman. “Why are you the Silicon Kid?”
“I've got implanted chips that let me see in the dark, and into the infrared and ultraviolet spectrums. And while I was on my way here from Olympus, I created one that will give me the fastest responses of any man in the galaxy.”
“You haven't had it implanted yet?”
“No, but it's simple outpatient surgery,” said the Kid. “If you've got a doctor on Last Chance, I can have it done in less than an hour.”
“We've got one,” answered the Iceman, “but he hasn't been sober for the better part of ten years. If I were you, I'd wait until I hit a bigger world.”
The Kid looked his disappointment. “I was kind of hoping to have it done here, so I could protect you.”
“I thank you for the thought,” said the Iceman, “but I don't need protection on my own world.” He paused. “Besides, I'm leaving this afternoon.”
“Oh? Where are you going?”
“Into the Democracy.”
“Why?”
“Because if I stay here, I'm a sitting duck for this Anointed One's killers,” answered the Iceman. “Maybe Lomax can handle the situation, and maybe he can't ... but I don't plan to wait to find out.”
“But why the Democracy?” asked the Kid. “I never said the Anointed One was there.” He paused. “Hell, I don't know where he is.”
“Neither do I,” said the Iceman. “But I damned well intend to find out.”
“And you think someone in the Democracy can tell you?”
“Oh, yes,” said the Iceman with certainty. “There's someone there who can tell me.”
“Why travel all that way?” asked the Kid. “Why not just send him a subspace message?”
“I didn't say he'd want to tell me,” replied the Iceman. “Just that he could.” He paused. “And he will,” he concluded grimly.
“I'm coming along,” said the Kid suddenly.
“I don't recall asking you to.”
“There won't be any action here at all once you leave.”
“Kid,” said the Iceman seriously, “the graveyards are full of young men who came to the Inner Frontier looking for action. Believe me, you'll be much better off just waiting here until Lomax shows up.”
The Kid shook his head. “There's a whole galaxy out there, just waiting to be seen.” He smiled. “I plan to see it.”
“Go tourist class. You'll live longer.”
“If you don't take me along, I'll just follow you in the Gravedancer's ship,” said the Kid.
“That's your prerogative,” answered the Iceman. “Try not to wreck it.”
“Damn it, Iceman!” said the Kid. “Why can't I make you understand that I'm on your side!”
“Kid, you don't even know what the game is.”
“Do you?”
“No,” admitted the Iceman. “But I'm going to find out.”
“You might need me.”
“I doubt it.”
“Once I get my chip implanted, I'll be the fastest gun anyone ever saw.”
“Fast is good,” said the Iceman. “Accurate is better.” He paused again. “And knowing when not to shoot is better still.”
“If I'm with you, you can tell me when to shoot and when not to.”
“Telling you what to do isn't my responsibility,” said the Iceman. He stared into the Silicon Kid's eyes. “You don't know what you're getting into. If you have a brain in your head, you'll go back to Greycloud and stay there.”
“You don't know what you're getting into, either,” retorted the Kid.
“I'm already in it,” replied the Iceman. “Five men have come out here to kill me.”
“What makes you think they'll stop, just because you leave Last Chance?” said the Kid. “I could help you.”
“Why?”
“Why what?” asked the Kid, confused.
The Iceman stared at him with open curiosity. “I never laid eyes on you until ten minutes ago. Why do you want to risk your life for me?”
