Laurence Knight stood at the small window of his equally small room and stared out at the blank wall of the opposite building. Having slept in a room similar to this on his last stay here he knew that if he leaned out of the window and looked up, he would see a small patch of sky far above him, but felt no inclination to do so now.
The room he had used last time had been two floors below this one. He felt a strange kind of déjà vu as he looked around at the familiar beige walls beige carpet, and brown cover on the bed. The décor, at least, had not been changed.
On the wall above the bed hung the room’s only adornment, a print of a typical red Martian landscape. The bathroom facilities were next door and he only had to share it with one other. Far better than last time, when he had had to go down to the next floor to shower and clean his teeth.
This rooming house, like so many others, catered only for single people who either worked in the City, or were looking for work. For the most part, these sort of places although clean and tidy, were also equally drab as far as internal decoration was concerned. Laurie had little doubt that finance had played the principal role when the colour scheme had been decided upon. Green and cream being the main colours in the public parts of the building or, as the people who lived here referred to it: "diarrhoea and custard."
Still, as he readily conceded, he was lucky to have found a vacancy here. Thankfully, he also had a good memory, and had quickly established a rapport with the Gen who manned the reception desk. He not only remembered the man’s name from his last visit here, but also his love of gambling. He had little doubt but that the connection might well prove useful to him at some time in the future.
He knew where the two Channels were staying because Vidal had told him. As yet he had no idea where Jason might be, except it would not be too far from here.
As they were all operating on Earth they each had a communicator. Even so, Laurie decided to let Jason contact him. For he knew that using such a device could, in the current circumstances, prove dangerous. Anyone standing close by might well overhear what was being said. This did not take into account the fact that all communicators were monitored by various bodies on Earth, including the civil police.
There was nothing sinister about this surveillance for, with so many aliens visiting the planet, and so much interplanetary crime; the citizens of Earth had long accepted that such eavesdropping on their communications was a small price to pay for security.
Indeed, popular opinion stated that if someone had nothing to hide why should they be worried if someone listened in to their conversations? Which was fine for the ordinary citizen, but when those same citizens had to work undercover, like now? Then, obviously, things were different. As neither he, nor anyone else, could change the system, they just had to operate within its parameters.
Laurie glanced at the chronometer on the far wall. There was still time for lunch, before he presented himself at the Gens First Meeting Hall to announce the fact that he was back in circulation.
Sitting down at the small single table in the dining room he ordered a simple lunch of hot rolls, cheese, and pickle, together with a glass of apple cider.
As he waited for his meal to arrive he thought about how strange it was that after all the years since he had left Zeor, he still followed their strict vegetarian regime. Yet, if he was asked why, he could not give a logical explanation for this; at least, not one that would satisfy himself, let alone anyone else.
As he ate steadily through the food on his plate he thought of Jordan Farris. Once he would have been proud to call him Sectuib, but no longer! Quickly he swallowed down the last mouthful of food as he considered the ramifications of that thought.
Shen but he hated the… He bit off the expletive that had almost left his lips, and looked guiltily around the busy dining room. Thankful that no one was looking his way except for two Simes who were sitting near the window, both of whom were now quite openly zlinning him. Shen all interfering Sime lorshes. Laurie forced himself to project calmness into the ambient, and relaxed as the two Simes looked away, again resuming their conversation.
He had thought he could accept this assignment working more or less alongside the Sectuib in Zeor with certain equanimity. It seemed he was wrong. Yet here he was, not only working with him, but committed to giving him transfer. Laurie silently castigated himself, as he considered how arrogant he was to think for even one moment that he could ever do such a thing; and how stupid not to remember why this man despised him.
Quickly he drained his glass and stood up, pushing all thoughts of what lay ahead in his personal life firmly to one side to be considered later. He made himself concentrate on the next few hours. He was a professional, he reminded himself. He could get through this, he had to get through it or blow his entire career. Jordan Farris, Sectuib in Zeor, was just not worth that!
***
Jason wondered how many times he had berated himself today for not arranging accommodations before he left the Tecton Centre. He could have done so quite easily, and it was only the thought that his call from the Centre might be traced that had made him decide against following that route. How ridiculous. After all, no one yet knew who he was, or why he was trying to find accommodations here. So why on Earth would they bother to trace his call?
Well that would teach him. Here he was, four hours since he had arrived in Star City, and still looking for a suitable place to stay. Did Laurie, he wondered, find a vacancy at the place he had stayed at before? If not, then the Gen would have to take a room somewhere else. One thing he knew for certain, Vidal and Jordan would be well and truly ensconced in their luxury penthouse by now!
Crossing his fingers in hope, Jason entered the premises of the last agency on his list. If they had nothing to offer him, then he would indeed have to take a room for the night, perhaps in a hotel. Dammit, he had expected to be settled in by now. Nothing ever seemed to go right for him did it? Stop that! Right now! You’re doing nothing but moan. He gave himself the order silently as he approached the young Sime who was sitting behind the desk, looking across at him expectantly.
Less than an hour later, he left the agency carrying the key to a small apartment little more than half a mile from the Channels’ penthouse. He had taken it sight unseen, and could only hope that the place itself would turn out to be satisfactory.
He decided to use one of the Step-ons. In this part of the City they were free and easy to use. The Step-ons themselves were suspended about 12 feet above the road, and all one had to do was climb one of the many stairways that led up to them, grab one of the moving poles as they passed by, and then step on to the strip itself. One went up the road and one down. When you came to a junction in the road where you wished to go down a different street, you simply stepped off one, and then onto another. As a child he had seen pictures of the Step-ons but had never had the opportunity to try them before.
On the way to the apartment block he stopped and bought bread, oats, milk, fruit, and a packet of trin tea. He would, of course, eat most of his meals out, mainly because he had never liked to cook just for himself alone. Breakfast was different, and he knew that he could easily prepare a bowl of porridge, or eat a piece of fruit each morning.
He was pleasantly surprised when he arrived at the apartment block to find that it stood out like a jewel amongst the other hotels and buildings that surrounded it. This was because it was painted a shimmering white. Every apartment appeared to have a small balcony which was festooned with brightly coloured flowers. He could only hope that the inside of the magnificent edifice matched the outside.
To his surprise, it did. Indeed, he was almost dumbstruck as he stepped inside the entrance hall and found that it had a marble floor with a discreet desk set to one side, behind which sat an equally discreet and obsequious renSime clerk. The man glanced at Jason’s pass, wished him a happy stay and indicated the elevators to one side, asking at the same time whether he required assistance in carrying up his bag. Jason declined.
As he was whisked silently up to the top floor, Jason began to wonder when he would discover a fault in the place. He knew it had to have one, because nothing could possibly be this perfect – or was he becoming a complete cynic?
Entering the top floor apartment, he could only stand in the doorway and stare. He had stayed at many magnificent places with Vidal over the years, but even they paled into insignificance when set against this.
A dark blue carpet rolled out before him, the pile so thick that he knew his feet would sink ankle deep into it. The walls were lined with a dove grey water silk paper. The furniture was composed entirely of Cherrywood antiques, and somehow, he knew that they were genuine.
An elegant table stood to one side, and on its top sat a tall crystal vase filled with white roses and lilies. Further along the facing wall was an escritoire and matching chair. Against another wall stood a display cabinet. In the middle of the large room sat two huge white couches facing each other. Cushions were strewn along them in dark blue, dove grey and white, whilst between them stood a low coffee table. Wall to wall and floor to ceiling dark blue velvet drapes drew his eyes to the far end of the room. Mirrors and oil paintings on the other walls completed the picture. He had little doubt but that they too, were genuine; and this was only one room!
Closing the door behind him, he stared around once more. Surely the money he had paid out for the short term six month rental on this place did not cover this? If it did, then he was very much out of touch with current values, which he doubted.
Before he explored the rest of the place he decided to have another look at the Lease, hoping against hope that there had not been a dreadful mistake. Ofcourse, it could be that the owner simply wanted to have someone living in the place, rather than have it stand empty. Why hadn’t he paid more attention to what the man was saying? The fact that he was tired and frustrated was no excuse.
Drawing the electronic note pad that contained all the legal documentation out of his bag he sat down to study it. He was sure he had been told it was seven hundred and fifty credits a month together with a bond of one thousand credits, and a similar deposit. Even this sum he had thought exorbitant, but time was getting on and he had decided – what the shen, go for it. The TIB can afford it!
Oh no! Shen it to hell! How had he made such a stupid error? Could he cancel or pull out of the whole thing? Even as the idea entered his mind, he knew that he could not. He knew enough about the law to know that his signature on the Lease made the deal as tight as a fish’s backside – and that was water tight!
He forced his eyes to return to the document once more. No. There was no mistake. It was seven thousand five hundred credits a month, with a ten thousand dollar bond, and similar deposit. He could never expect the TIB to cover that amount of money!
Where the hell was he going to find the credits? Of course he knew he could always get a loan, but that would put him in debt for years. Almost every credit that he now earned he paid out on various commitments. Including his half of the outgoings on the apartment he shared with Vidal, payments on the new flitter he had bought in the summer and various other ancillary payments, not counting the money he sent home to his family and… Oh NO! He had promised his father that he would send him some extra money at the end of this year to buy some new equipment.
How had he misread the Lease like that? Taking a deep breath he pulled himself up short, for he knew that recriminations gained him nothing. He had made one shocking mistake today, and he must not compound that by adding another to the list. He was here to do a job and everyone was relying on him to play his part, and he would carry it out as best he could. Paying back the enormous debt he had saddled himself with? Well he would just have to worry about that later, one thing he knew for sure, it wasn’t going to disappear.
Feeling decidedly deflated, Jason looked around the rest of the TEN room apartment before he called Laurie and they exchanged addresses.
Laurie’s reaction to the name of the apartment building where he was now staying was one of utter surprise. ‘Did you say Ravenscourt Place?’ He gave a low whistle before he went on to say, ‘I suppose that’s one of the little perks about having Vidal Trent as your partner. To say I’m envious would be an understatement. My place is like a flea pit by comparison. Keep in touch, ‘bye for now.’
Afterwards Jason, his appetite well and truly gone, showered and went straight to bed, turning his light out quickly, so that he couldn’t even see his luxurious surroundings.
***
Less than forty eight hours after the two Gens, the Channels arrived in Star City. Vidal stood at the large picture window and stared out at the panoramic view far below. ‘It feels strange not having Jason close by,’ he confessed to the tall Sime with the light brown hair who was standing beside him. He turned his head to look into the hazel eyes as he spoke.
Jordan’s whole appearance had been subtly changed, even to the addition of a small mole on his chin and a jagged scar high up on his left cheek, which gave the impression that he had received it in a knife fight.
After some discussion the Sectuib had decided to use the name "Jord" since it was not an unusual name on Earth, and neither was it associated in any way with Zeor. It was similar enough to his own name to make it easy for him to remember, always useful in undercover situations. As Sam Bentjeman often said, "if you have to change things, keep them as simple as possible."
‘He’s safer where he is.’ Jordan reminded his friend.
‘I agree, but from a purely selfish point of view...’ Vidal smiled as he shrugged eloquently.
Jordan nodded his head as he said softly, ‘I wish I could say the same about Sosu Knight, but must confess I prefer him as far away from me as possible.’
Vidal did not pursue the subject as he pointed with one tentacle towards the window and said, ‘Can you see that reddish building just over there? That’s the Runzi HQ.’
‘I take it we’re going there today?’
Vidal was silent for a few moments before he said, ‘I see no reason why not. The sooner we get started, the better.’
***
A few hours later Vidal entered the Runzi HQ, with Jordan a step behind; his hazel eyes moved from side to side as he played the bodyguard as he had been taught.
The Channel approached the New Applicants Clerk to find out how he stood as far as membership was concerned.
‘How can I help you N’vet?’
Vidal drew himself up straight and spoke in the same imperious manner as his father, as he gave his name and began to explain, but was immediately interrupted. ‘Do I take it you’re related to Maxwell Trent, N’vet?’
Vidal nodded his dark head in silent agreement.
The Sime immediately wiped the application forms from the computer screen in front of him, and quickly displayed another form.
‘Perhaps I can prevail upon you to give me your identity number N’vet?’ The words gushed from him. Vidal complied with the request by handing him his Credit Card. The clerk almost genuflected in front of him as he fed the details into the computer. ‘Thank you N’vet. The lounge is to the left, and the library next to it. The Conference room is to the right. The Bar and Restaurant are up the stairs.’ He explained quickly.
‘I understand, from my father, that my bodyguard may accompany me?’
‘But of course, N’vet.’
Vidal dismissed him peremptorily with a tentacle as he said, ‘Come Jord,’ and turned towards the lounge, with the Sectuib in close pursuit.
The two men sat down on one of the comfortable couches and looked around them as Jordan observed quietly, ‘Even in today’s modern world, it’s still a matter of who you know that opens most doors.’
‘Of course. I never thought it was any different,’ Vidal informed him, and then went on. ‘It would appear we are in the wrong place. Everyone appears to be passing the door. Come; let us see where they’re going.’
‘The Conference room, I would imagine,’ Jordan retorted and Vidal nodded his dark head in silent agreement.
Moments later they entered the large Conference room that was filling up fast. Vidal led them towards two seats at the very back.
Before they had actually sat down a voice suddenly interrupted their thoughts. ‘Vidal! It is you. I thought I must be mistaken. I’ve never seen you here before. Is Maxwell here too?’
Vidal held his emotions in check with an iron will, as he worked to keep his dismay from entering his field as he stared at the short renSime who was addressing him. Shen and shid it was Hamil. Just his luck!
‘No. Apart from my bodyguard, Jord, I am alone,’ Vidal answered quickly, as he indicated the other Sime with a tentacle.
‘I’m sure Maxwell told me you weren’t interested in the Runzi,’ Hamil pressed, curiosity still paramount in his field. ‘Was he wrong?’
‘Not exactly,’ Vidal stated. ‘However, it was not lack of interest that stopped me from coming here before, merely time. My business commitments have always been heavy, as I’m sure you are aware.’ He projected sincerity into the ambient.
The Sime nodded his head vigorously. ‘Does Maxwell know you’re here?’
‘No. I thought to tell him next time I am home. He has always called me stubborn for putting business before...pleasure. I trust you will not spoil my surprise?’
‘Of course not, Vidal. I’m sure he’ll be pleased that you are for once playing the dutiful son.’ A slightly cynical smile crossed his face.
‘Indeed. However it looks as if the meeting is about to come to order. I’m sure we will see each other later, Hamil.’ He said dismissively.
The Sime nodded again almost eagerly as he hurried on, ‘There’s a business proposition I would like to speak to you about. Perhaps you can mention it to Maxwell next time you see him?’
‘Perhaps,’ Vidal look at him guardedly, people had often approached him in the past, hoping to use him as an intermediary between themselves and Maxwell Trent; so he went on cautiously, ‘But unlike my father, I do not like to mix business with my other activities.’ He paused before he said pointedly, ‘Tonight, Hamil, is not the time for such a discussion.’
‘No, of course not. My apologies, Vidal, another time. Yes of course, another time.’ Looking around the room he spotted a seat at the far side and hurried towards it, to the Channel’s relief.
‘Your prediction has come true faster than we expected.’ Jordan murmured.
‘It was bound to happen sooner or later. My father does come here often; and he is usually pursued by people like Hamil. I used to wonder how he could put up with them fawning over him all the time. After all, they only wanted him for what he could do for them financially. But then I realised, he enjoys having the sycophants around him because it gives him a feeling of power.’ Vidal said with open disgust.
‘Your father never came across to me as being like that.’ Jordan said with surprise.
‘Of course he didn’t. In your case you weren’t the sycophant – he was!’ Jordan opened his mouth to repute the allegation, when Vidal put a tentacle to his lips as he said, ‘Shh, they’re about to start.’
The meeting went on for some three hours, and for the most part was fairly predictable as to its content. However, there were one or two things that both Vidal and Jordan took careful note of. Other than that, they were disappointed.
As the meeting finally broke up and they all drifted back out into the corridor, both Channels were undecided whether to call it a night and return to the penthouse. It was Vidal who finally suggested that they have one quick look upstairs first.
Climbing the stairs shoulder to shoulder they passed the large restaurant where waiters were still moving silently between the tables, and approached the main area. The glass and chrome bar ran almost the entire length of the room, with stools in front and large mirrors behind. Small tables were dotted around the rest of the floor area, some occupied some not. At the far end, on a small dais, a red haired Sime female played the shiltpron.
They both moved to sit down on the stools, from which vantage point they could see everyone in the room through the large mirrors. Vidal ordered a bottle of his favourite wine.
‘I wonder if Laurence Knight is having better luck than we are?’ Vidal murmured as the wine arrived.
‘Hopefully,’ Jordan said noncommittally.
Vidal stared at his friend but could read nothing in his field as he murmured thankfully, ‘For once Jason is out of the line of fire.’
Jordan nodded his agreement before he went on intuitively, ‘Is everything all right between the two of you now, or did I sense a little friction?’
‘You sensed a little friction.’ Vidal admitted wryly, and went on to explain the situation to the Sectuib, who listened attentively.
‘Yes, I can well understand Jason’s frustration.’
‘Thanks a lot. That’s just what I wanted to hear.’
‘If you only wanted to hear someone agree with your perspective on the situation, then you came to the wrong person,’ Jordan replied at once, then hesitated before he went on, ‘We have touched on this before Vidal, and you’re well aware of my views.’
‘Yes of course.’ He sighed, ‘My apologies Jordan. I do need your help. We both do.’
‘If you will forgive me for saying so, my friend, your life with Jason seems to be one long rollercoaster as you jump from one emotional crisis to another.’
Vidal gave a bark of laughter as he silently agreed with the Sectuib as he waited for him to continue.
‘You know, with all your difficulties, which I must admit to a simple Sime like me…’ Vidal snorted rudely at this remark, but Jordan went on regardless, ‘…to a simple Sime like me, appear to be entirely of your own making. I still envy you.’
‘Maybe you do,’ Vidal said broodingly, ‘Perhaps you wouldn’t if you were standing on this side of the fence.’
Jordan conceded the point, but then went on more bluntly. ‘To be honest, Jason’s nager is something that most Simes would give their right arm to have as their own.’
‘I am aware of that.’
‘He is also someone who, in a transfer situation, you can rely on completely,’ he held up one tentacle as his friend went to reply, ‘No, let me finish,’ he begged, and then went on. ‘I can say this with all sincerity, Vidal, because I am the only Sime who has been in such a situation with him. You know that. There was no faltering or hesitation.’ For a brief moment the Sectuib broadcast exactly how taking transfer from Jason with the Gen in control had felt to him, before he closed it off abruptly and went on, ‘You’d be a complete fool not to take full advantage of what you’re being offered, and accept it with open arms.’
Vidal was still recovering from the brief insight the Sectuib had allowed him into the emotional side of his life. ‘I never realised,’ he said quietly.
‘I know. Just don’t let it slip through your fingers, Vidal. Believe me, you’ll never forgive yourself.’ The Sectuib gave a wry chuckle, ‘However, if you really don’t feel that you can avail yourself of what he has to offer, then I am quite prepared to…’
‘Forget it. I’m not a complete idiot,’ Vidal drained his glass and placed it back on the counter. ‘As Hamil has just entered the bar, I believe it’s time we left.’
***
Gens First met in a building that was well over a hundred years old. Its décor, both inside and out, lived up to its age. In one corner of the medium sized room Laurence Knight and three others sat on the circular padded seat that surrounded the low table. Of the three, he had only met Mark before tonight, while Tim and his girlfriend Shandy were strangers to him.
For the best part of an hour the talk that been about the Fly Ball Match that was the latest craze in Star City, and had been played that day. Initially the game had been started by the Simes and then adopted by the Gens. That was the sum total of Laurie’s knowledge of the game. So he allowed the conversation to ebb and flow around him while he studied the three Gens closely.
Suddenly there was a brief lull in the chatter and Laurie seized his opportunity to say to Mark, ‘I hear the Runzi have been getting more active lately.’
Mark nodded his head, and his straight shoulder length hair bounced up and down as he said, ‘I saw some of their latest recruitment material they’ve been distributing among the local Simes. It’s pretty hot stuff.’
‘Not all Simes are stupid enough to fall for their propaganda,’ Shandy interrupted as she stared at the three men through her long fringe of dark brown hair.
‘I’m not so sure about that Shandy,’ her boyfrield said, ‘I always thought my brother was pretty level headed but he joined them last month, and it’s changed him. You should hear some of the stuff he comes out with now. It’s enough to turn your stomach.’
‘I’d be interested in taking a look at some of it,’ Laurie confessed, ‘Has anyone got copies?’
As the others shook their heads, Shandy pulled a note pad out of her shoulder bag and switched it on to run through the contents. ‘I’m sure I’ve got a couple on here somewhere…ah here it is.’ She passed the device across to Laurie, who glanced at it quickly.
‘Can I take a copy of this?’
‘Help yourself.’ She said as she and Tim lost interest in the conversation and began to whisper to each other.
Mark leaned closer to Laurie as he asked, ‘What’s this all about, why the sudden interest in the Runzi?’
Laurie laughed softly, ‘Not me, exactly. I am surprised that Gens First isn’t more interested in them. After all when you think about it, Gens First only came into being because of the Runzi.’
‘True,’ Mark conceded, ‘But it was never intended for us to be
hard line you know. It was just retaliation really, you know, kid’s stuff. If the Simes can start up an organisation like the Runzi excluding us, well so can we. Unfortunately, everything now, at least as far as the Simes are concerned, seems to be getting out of hand.’
‘So, I’ll ask you again Mark, isn’t anyone else worried about what has started to happen with the Runzi?’
‘Some are.’ Mark replied slowly, and frowned slightly before he said astutely, ‘I take it you think there’s a lot more behind all this than appears on the surface. Am I correct?’
Laurie decided to take a chance as he said. ‘Yes. Don’t you agree?’
‘I haven’t really given it all that much thought,’ Mark said honestly, ‘But like I said, I know there are some among us who have begun to express concern.’
‘Who are they?’
‘It’s not just one or two, as far as I can tell. There’s a whole group of people.’
‘Can I meet them?’ Laurie asked eagerly.
‘Don’t see why not, but I can’t just walk up to them and introduce you. You know how things work around here. I’ll drop your name in a few ears, say that you’re showing an interest, and leave it to them to contact you. All right?’
Laurie nodded his agreement as he tried to hide his frustration.
But that was two days ago and he was still waiting to be contacted. In the meantime, he had sent a brief message to Jason to keep him in the picture.
The waiting around was frustrating but there was little more he could do. However, he was a patient man, so he just hung around during the day and visited Gens First in the evening. Occasionally, he would wonder how the two Channels were getting on.
Apart from that he would indulge in one of his favourite pastimes, dreaming up ways of punishing the Sectuib in Zeor. Not that he would ever carry any of them out, of course, he wanted to go on living. Besides, he simply wasn’t that crazy.
After all, as he readily conceded in his more rational moments, in fairness, it wasn’t really all Jordan’s fault.
Yet even so, he did sometimes wonder what he would do if the occasion presented itself to actually punish the Sectuib in Zeor for real. Would he – could he – take up the challenge? Unfortunately, he had not yet found a satisfactory answer to that particular question.
Read Chapter 4
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