bird swooping from the conifers. |”Among the buyers are interests in mortal conflict, represent titanic polarizing forces,” he said. “The triggers will give them a power of mutual de- tion that has been unprecedented in history.” jmiis concerns you?”
|fI don’t fear the prospect of harsh change.” ‘DeVane looked at him.
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“Ah,” he said. “You’ve wondered about me.”
Kuhl nodded. Outside the sealed room, he could see the shadow of the bird’s outspread wings create shifting patterns of light and darkness on the rippled carpet of snow.
DeVane formed a cage with his fingers.
“There is a story, a very ancient one, about a child of the god who rode the chariot of the sun across the sky,” he said. “It illustrates my way of seeing things.”
Kuhl waited. DeVane stared at his finger cage intently, as if to capture his thoughts within it.
“As the tale goes, the son was abandoned by his great and celestial father to struggle on the hard earth with his mother, and did not learn of his paternal heritage until he was on the verge of manhood,” he said. “And then his claims were ridiculed. The rejection and denial of all that he was, all the potential within him, caused him unbearable humiliation. So he went to his father’s manor. Traveled to the Palace of the Sun to ask the chance to prove his birthright, ride the chariot for a single day.” DeVane paused, his face taut around his cheekbones, his gaze fixed on his interlocked fingers. “The father’s first reaction was to scorn him. Deny his request. We can imagine he disputed his paternity, refused to acknowledge the youth was of his blood. But the son possessed an inbred strength of will and prevailed. Perhaps he used coercion, blackmail, the threat to reveal an affair his father had long kept hidden from his highborn peers. Who knows? The young man did what was necessary to get what he wanted. A chance. And he climbed aboard the chariot with a thousand warnings. Fly too high and the earth will freeze, drop too low and it will burn. Steer too far to the left or right and the monsters
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‘ the void will snatch you with their claws, suck you the great darkness. These attempts to dissuade the nth only made him more eager to seize the reins and : to the heavens.” DeVane returned his eyes to Kuhl. cold shine of steel in them. “Unfortunately, control the horses did prove beyond him in the end. They primal forces, you understand, and he was raised lie soil, dirt under his fingernails. Wherever he ed thundering through the sky, chaos was left in his fee. The countryside was seared with fire. Crops . Ice caps melted to flood great cities. Oceans ned to columns of steam. His whipping, runaway ride Dk the world. Chaos. But when, at last, the most awerful of the gods struck him down with a lightning It, sent him plunging to the ground in flames, the son nt to his death without regret. Because in pursuing ambition, he’d soared above and beyond the limita- of his origins. Beyond what anyone foresaw for Beyond those who’d tried to humble him. He had en audacious, and audacity often has consequences, ‘d known it from the beginning. Yet what a run it
Siegfried. What a hell of a run.” DeVane fell silent. He took a deep breath, unlocked is fingers, leaned slowly backward in his chair. When
next spoke, his voice was calm and quiet. c”Is your curiosity satisfied?” he said. “Yes.”
, “Then back to business.” DeVane’s hands were open i the desk. “Is there anything else we should discuss?” Kuhl nodded.
“Our recruit in UpLink. The one who administered trigger to Gordian,” he said. “He is weak and faith239
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DeVane shrugged his shoulders. “A small fry swimming out of his depth and poisoned along with the big fish.”
“As he must realize by now,” Kuhl said. “I ask myself, what if he tries to bite us in his final thrashings?”
DeVane’s eyebrows lifted.
“I see,” he said. “And you suggest…”
“That El Tio have Enrique Quiros put the little creature out of its misery. The sooner the better.”
DeVane regarded him with his coldly metallic eyes.
“Your advice is well taken,” he said. “I’ll contact Enrique.”
Kuhl nodded again and rose from his seat. The large, dark bird had flown off, and there was nothing to be seen past the window panel but the hoofprints in the empty whiteness between the building and the great masts of the trees.
He turned, strode toward the door.
“Siegfried.”
Kuhl looked over his shoulder. De Vane’s eyes were still steady on him.
“You now know much about me,” he said.
“Yes.”
“As much as anyone living ever will.”
“Yes.”
DeVane looked at him another moment, then nodded.
Kuhl reached for the doorknob and let himself out of the office.
Sick.
He felt so sick.
Palardy crouched with his head over the John, the bathroom tiles hard against his knees. The taste of acid
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nails filled his mouth, and his stomach felt twisted out from the repeated vomiting. He’d been at it Sunday night, losing his half-digested dinner in ul wracking fits. And it had only gotten worse when i Stomach was emptied of its solid contents, his spasms ; on through the morning, the digestive juices spurt- j sour and rancid into his throat. And worse still when was no more bile left in him, when he’d started to
heave.
aybe three o’clock in the morning he’d thrown on clothes, gone down to the twenty-four-hour con- ence store for some ginger ale, hoping that might : him. Twice, three times during the short walk over had to stop, reel toward the curb, and hug a lamp- to keep from losing his feet. But his stomach ps had been unbearable. And there was the dizzi- , the sidewalk seeming to lurch underneath him with step. It had taken a big piece of forever to get to I’store, find the soda, and pay for it, the clerk looking like he was a drunkard or a drug addict come to the place. Palardy was certain he’d had his hand on tiing under the counter-an alarm button, a gun, could tell?-as he’d rung up the sale. \ And then the agonizing return to his apartment build- Another small eternity. He’d sat back on his sofa drunk the soda warm. Taking small sips, figuring
system could tolerate a little at a time.
dy supposed that was when he’d first noticed his throat. Could be it had been developing gradually aghout the night. Maybe he’d have felt it sooner if ‘Stomach hadn’t been in constant throes. But it was inflamed, and he doubted it could have gotten that I all at once. His tonsils felt as big as thumbs, and he
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had trouble swallowing. And he’d felt these lumps on either side of his neck; he guessed they were swollen glands.
Drinking that soda had itself been an ordeal. And ultimately, it was for nothing. The trip to the deli, his slow, careful sipping, for nothing. The ginger ale had jetted from him in a fountain before he could make it to the bathroom, spilling over his hands, onto the upholstery, onto the carpet. Bubbles of soda mixed with spit and phlegm.
After that, Palardy hadn’t tried to swallow anything, liquid or solid.
Sick, he was so god-awful sick. A few minutes ago, he’d thought his guts would tear themselves apart, come squeezing out of him in bloody nuggets. Those dry, ratcheting heaves, his whole body hurt from them. His back and sides as much as his stomach. Jesus. And the way his heart was beating right now, slamming against his ribs, rapid and erratic. Jesus Christ, it was horrible.
Palardy hung over the toilet, gasping, clutching his middle. Waiting to see if his latest attack had really passed or if another round of spasms would sneak up on him.
After a while, he decided he’d gotten a temporary reprieve and rose to his feet, holding the sink to steady himself. He reached for the tap, splashed cold water on his face, swished some in his mouth, and spat into the basin. The horrid taste didn’t leave him. He hadn’t expected it would.
Palardy staggered out the bathroom door, his head heavy. He was cold and trembling. In the hallway he got a flannel blanket from the closet and tossed it over his
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aiders. Then he made his way back to the living
and dropped onto the couch.
fjjVhat was happening? What was the matter with him? le sat there wrapped in the blanket, trying to get Wishing he could relax. But a terrible thought asserting itself in his mind. If not from the onset |the sickness, then soon after, he’d started to wonder tier it could be connected to what was in that hylic case Enrique Quiros had given him, to what 1 been in the ampule. Only a gullible fool could have to consider the possibility. It had occurred to i the night he’d met Quiros at the harbor that anybody i would risk ordering someone as important as Roger lian to be hurt or killed would be capable of doing ever it took to cover his tracks. Of doing away with iy who might increase his chances of being tied act. In the car, Quiros had seemed uneasy about rown involvement. Eager to be through with it. Pa- couldn’t remember the exact words he’d used, but had hinted that he had no personal interest in harm[ Gordian and was having his strings pulled by some- higher up the line. That he was looking out for elf the same as Palardy.