The Best Made Plans Part 26

And all Don had needed do was walk up to the front door and go in.

"Guess they thought they had a full-scale revolution on their hands,"

he told himself. "Wonder how many Hunters the Moreku nailed." He grinned.

The men Korentona had talked to had jumped at the plan like starving gersals. Several of them had been victimized in the past. They really wanted blood. The others saw a good hunt in the offing. Every one of them knew someone who had been robbed. He'd turned something loose, all right.

"Hope they don't get too enthusiastic about it," he said. "Hate to have 'em make a habit of that sort of thing." He shrugged.

"Oh, well, let's see where that book is."

The sides of the room were lined with books. Over in a corner was a reading table with writing materials and a conveniently placed light.

Don walked over to a gla.s.s-fronted bookcase and opened it, studying the t.i.tles of the volumes within. Finally, he selected a book and carried it over to the reading table.

He leafed through the volume, noting the careful engrossing. Then he paused as he came to the pages he was searching for. He examined the ornate script closely, then looked at the intricate stamp. It was the signature stamp of the old king. Beside it was his queen's less pretentious stamp. Don nodded in satisfaction.

Now, the only problem was to wrap the book safely in the waterproof tissue he'd brought with him, and get it out of the house. He stood, looking at the door.

It might not be too safe to leave the book with Korentona, as had been originally planned. With the clansmen under surveillance as they had been, and now, with this additional disturbance, there could be a disastrous slip. Don shook his head.

Somehow, the idea of carrying this doc.u.ment in a peddler's pack didn't make too much sense, either. Too many things could go wrong. He sat back in the chair and stuck his legs out.

"Well," he told himself, "I can't stay here for the rest of my life.

I'll have to do something." He grinned ruefully.

"The best defense," he quoted, "is a determined and well-directed offense. So, if you don't know what to do, do anything. Then you'll find out what to do next."

He snapped the light out and opened the door. At the edge of the water lock, he breathed deeply a few times. Then he plunged in, closed the underwater door, and swam rapidly toward the surface of the garden pool.

He climbed out of the water, strode forward a few steps, then stopped in consternation. The place was suddenly flooded with light.

An oily voice sounded in his ears.

"Just stand still, young fella. That way, you don't get hurt. Not right away, anyhow."

Don turned. At the side of the garden, stood a scrawny old man, his seamed face wrinkled into a sardonic smile. In his hand, he held a small weapon.

Don recognized it--a khroal. The weapon could put out vibration which would tear any target to tiny, singing fragments in a few microseconds.

It was a complete anomaly which had been in the possession of the Khlorisanu for measureless time. Its origin was mystery, its exact principle of operation a puzzle. But it was easy to duplicate, and it was one of the most deadly hand weapons known.

He held his hands out.

"Put that thing away," he snapped coldly. "Get it down--quick!"

The older man's smile broadened into happy amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Oh, funny stuff, eh?" he said joyfully. "I kinda hoped you'd be the one they'd send. Yeah, I kinda wanted to see you--what you look like, eh?" He waved the weapon.

"Just stand still, young fella, so old Jake can get a good look at you.

Hey, you look like one of these here natives." The man bobbed his head.

"Woulda fooled me, you know?" He looked reproachful.

"Only, a smart young fella like you, you oughta know better than go and get that Foree so worried. You know, that fella, he comes in every night--got a lot of things he wants to talk about. Got theories. Got plans. Real eager fella. Only tonight, he ain't got nothing. Just grunts.

"Nothing goes on today, he says." Jake shook his head reproachfully.

"You know, that was careless. You shoulda let him talk anyhow a little, see. Something like that happens, old Jake, he gets ideas. So I come out here, to see who comes along." He looked at the package under Don's arm.

"That the book we're all looking for?" He jerked his head toward a door.

"Yeah, guess it is. Come on, young fella, that funny stuff, it don't work so good with old Jake, see? So let's you and me take a nice little ride. What ya say?"

The khroal remained steadily pointed at its target.

Don hesitated. This was about as far from good as it could get, he thought. Now who was this? Where did he fit into the situation?

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Oh, I don't mind telling you that. Name's Jake. Jake Gorham. But come on. Let's get on our way. We got a nice, long ride, you and me, see?"

Gorham waved his weapon again.

"Come on," he repeated. "Nice young fella like you, he don't wanna get all scattered around. Shame to mess up this nice pretty little garden, you know?"

Don hesitated. Of course, he might be able to dive into the pool again.

But the khroal could kick out a cone several feet deep. There was no escape that way. No way out of the pool, anyway--except through this garden. He moved in the indicated direction.

Gorham herded him to the courtyard and closed the door. The house lights filtered through curtains, to show the outline of a flier in the middle of the court. Gorham urged him toward it.

"All right, young fella," he said, "just stand real quiet for a minute.

I'll get this thing unlocked and start them synchronizer things." He reached toward the door, then paused.

"Yeah, I been kinda wondering about you," he added conversationally.

"See, I got a smart young fella down there in Oreladar. He's got people pretty well trained down there by now. Chap named Stern. You hear of him, maybe?" He chuckled.

"Kinda set him up in business here a few years back, and he's doing pretty well. Old Jake just hasta hang around--kinda look after things now and then, this boy shouldn't get in too much trouble, see?" He cleared his throat.

"See, this Danny, he ain't got too much in the brains department. And he don't do so good when people get violent. Might say he sorta scares easy sometimes. Now you, I'd say you were a little different, see? Ya know, I just might be able to use a real smart young fella like you."

He flipped the khroal up and down negligently.

"Now, don't go making up no mind yet. Like I say, we got time. We have a nice, long talk on the way to Oreladar. Maybe we work something out, eh? You know, old Jake, he ain't such a bad guy. You ask Danny. He'll tell you. We could get along real nice, the three of us." He paused, considering.

"Oh, maybe you don't like the idea at first," he added. "But we got all kinds ways to persuade people.

"Got a fella, name's Masterson, down there right now. Danny tries, but he can't do nothing with him. But he'll come around. You give us a few more days--a week, maybe, he's going to be a real reasonable fella." He pulled the flier door open.