Lady, I don’t know what I’m dealing with here, and I don’t really want to know.
Chen may hear him out, then kill all of you, or turn you into pets or the
walking dead for all I know. But he might also embrace your husband here like he
was the greatest hero of Earth history and put him in a real high and
influential position with lots of power. Taking you costs me very little. Not
taking you could cost me later. Now, what about it, Hawks?
It was not a difficult decision, although it was a serious one. He could monitor
his wives’ treatment first, but anything he did to guard could be circumvented
by the portable mindprinter after, and Raven’s cartridges would be
security-oriented and not at all benign. He didn’t even like to think what
Warlock’s library must be like.
Still, he knew now that there was only one course open to him. The Crow had
spoken the truth when he had said that Chen would want him, at least, in
original condition. He could only trust that it applied to all. Raven also was
speaking the truth about Mud Runner; it had always been the longest of long
shots at best, and reality was obscured when unvoiced. Going wild was an equal
if more romantic illusion. Silent Woman, at least, could not be kept hidden
forever, and he could not abandon her any more than he could abandon Cloud
Dancer. Chen was the only chance to preserve any possibility of a future for the
family and tribe.
We will take the hypno and mindprint, he responded. If it is your kit.
Of course. Well, we’d better get started, then. The skimmer will be here at
dusk, and then you have one to three days of travel ahead, depending on the
heat.
The program was devastating, as he had known it would be, but it was the most
secure both for their captors and for protection en route. The fact was, once
Raven had set it up and turned it on, none of them were aware of anything beyond
that point. There were blurs, bright lights, confusing shouts in unknown
tongues, and hundreds of other fleeting sensations, but none of it made sense,
nor was there any time sense. There also, however, were no worries or concerns.
Those had ceased to exist with the rest of the world.
Hawks awoke with the usual feeling of dizziness and disorientation that came
from having undergone both hypnotics and mindprinting, but he recovered quickly.
He was lying on a plush rug of some kind inside a large tent, and it was warm
and dry. His first thought was for his wives, and when he did not see them, he
was worried. He got up and tried to get his bearings.
Looks like you made it, Raven’s voice came to him. He looked up and saw the
Crow sitting back and relaxing on a low fur-covered divan, a half-smoked cigar
in his mouth. Even at this point, Hawks couldn’t resist wondering if Raven had
all of his cigars presmoked halfway down.
I promised you they’d be here, and they’re here, the Crow went on. You are
just gonna have to wait to see them, though. You got to get ready to see the big
man. After him, then we have a happy reunion or whatever.
I want to see them now!
Raven sighed. Listen, Hyiakutt. You’re not in North America now, and Council’s
on the other side of the world. I got to tell you it was pretty hairy just
getting you this far, and you wouldn’t be here without me. A couple of people
died to ensure that nobody but us even knows it. You’re here because you
couldn’t resist knowing nasty things you knew you shouldn’t touch. I didn’t put
you in this spot, I only brought you. Now you see the big man you said you
wanted to see anyway. You trusted me with the hypno that got you here. Keep
playing it my way.
Hawks sighed and nodded. The Crow was right, and he knew it. He was in no
position to bargain now. Best to see it through. It might not make any real
difference, anyway. By Raven’s own admission, Chen had betrayed the first
discoverers of the rings who’d contacted him. There was no reason why such a man
would treat Hawks any better.
These people bathe about once a century, the Crow noted. But they have a set
of rules and procedures. We’ll get you looking as decent as we can.
Hawks’s brows rose. Then we are not in Tashkent Center?
What do you take Chen for? We lifted you out illegally, and we smuggled you all
the way here illegally and, since I haven’t seen either a security force or any
sign of a Val yet, successfully. You’re out in a tent city somewhere in the
steppes of the Caucasus. He got here with his whole retinue just about an hour
and a half ago, all riding camels, if you can believe it. I heard of ’em but
never saw one before. I don’t care how much water they hold, I’ll take a horse
or even an ornery mule every time.
Getting propped for an audience with Lazlo Chen was not an onerous experience,
even if it was a disconcerting one. He was taken in to a small horde of women
dressed in exotic clothing that masked just about everything except their eyes,
all of whom talked in a language unrelated to anything he had ever heard before.
Laughing and giggling, they washed him with cloths rinsed in a large basin of
tepid water, clipped his nails, combed his long black hair and trimmed it,
although he refused to let them cut it. Then he was given dark wool pants tucked
into tall leather riding boots and a shirt of the same material dyed red and
worn like a vest, and he was ready. Raven, who still wore his traditional
buckskins, checked him over approvingly.
All right, now. You look like you’re ready to raid the peasant villages, the
Crow noted in his usual sneering tone. How’s it feel?
It itches, Hawks complained.
Raven shrugged. So it itches. If you’d had any decent clothes on when I picked
you up, then this wouldn’t have been necessary. Now I’ll give you the protocol,
and you will follow it exactly no matter how demeaning it is simply because he
has to keep up the show for the locals and you want to keep on his good side.
He’s willing to keep it in English, so there’s no languages to learn, simply
because he knows it and absolutely nobody else around him, including his aides
from Center, does. It ain’t too popular a tongue in these parts. And remember
who you’re dealing with, even if he tries to get chummy.
Hawks nodded. After Roaring Bull, then Manka Warlock and Raven, he had finally
made it up the hierarchy to a Lord of the Middle Dark. He had never met the
Council Emperor or seen him, but this was one of equal stature at least.
They brought him to an enormous tent erected on the great plains of what had
once been the south central region of the USSR, and before that the domain, or
route, of legendary conquerors. He felt as if he had somehow slipped back in
time to some ancient day when Genghis Khan and his Mongol horde had overrun and
ruled the area in their attempt to establish a worldwide empire.
Certainly the setting seemed bleak and primitive enough, with torches lighting
the way to the tent and oil lamps within. The floor of the tent was lined with
plush rugs, and off to one side there was a table with an ornate chess set
apparently showing a game in progress. An ornate, thronelike chair sat on a
raised platform to the rear of the tent, its arms and back covered with complex
designs. Still, the place stank. Unimpressed with the primitive grandeur, Hawks
couldn’t help but wonder if any of these people ever bathed or wiped themselves.
Lazlo Chen entered confidently, leaving his guards outside. He was certainly an
imposing figure, close to two meters high and perhaps a hundred and fifty kilos.
Oddly, he did not look fat but rather enormous and powerful. In spite of the
fact that his family name was Han Chinese, he clearly owed his looks and size to
Mongol and perhaps Cossack ancestry as well. He had long, black hair streaked
with gray and a thick, full beard of the same color mix, and he wore a crimson
turban and colorful, if baggy, Occidental clothing. He also wore golden earrings
studded with enormous rubies and had other jewelry on his person and his
garments—but there was only one piece that interested Hawks.
The Hyiakutt did as he had been instructed and knelt, bowed his head, and
awaited recognition. Chen took a seat on the throne, then looked at the man
before him.
Oh, please do stand up. Sorry to keep you waiting, old boy, Chen said in a
cheerful, casual tone. But I’m a busy man, and even arranging to get the two of
us together this one time has been something of a bother. His accent was not
exotic but casual and without any distinguishing regionalisms. It was about as
pure as English ever got. Hawks soon discovered, though, that Lazlo Chen’s
accent shifted to match the other speaking to him. The man was a born master
linguist. The Hyiakutt historian stood and found he was still below eye level.
I appreciate the effort, my lord, Hawks responded politely. I have put many
people to much trouble to gain this audience with you.
Lazlo Chen looked at him with bright, penetrating eyes, and a trace of a smile
crept onto his face. You came because of the ring. You came because you were
sick and tired of being one of the sheep.
Hawks was startled. Do you read my mind, then?
Chen chuckled. It is easy to read a man’s mind when one understands him so
well. When I entered, you thought something like, well, ‘Here is this primitive
throwback wearing on his ring finger something of which he can’t possibly know
the import. How will I deal with him for it?’
I—I was not so unflattering, but I do admit to the rest of it. I take it now,
though, to mean that you know exactly what you have.
I do, and yet I do not, the Emperor admitted. Here— come close and look at
it. I have done so for two decades now.
Hawks approached, fascinated in spite of himself. After enduring so much for so
long, he would not be denied at least the sight of the objective.
The ring was not, as he had feared, plain or ugly but a thing of great beauty,
shimmering gold in the lamplight, studded with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and
other precious gems. Set into the front on a bed of pure jade was a symbol in
bright silver so perfect, it could not have been cut by human hands no matter
how exacting the artisan. Three tiny, perfect birdlike creatures flanking a
diamond set in such a way that each of the birds stood at the point of a
triangle.
It is the curse of one who wears the ring that he cannot exhibit inordinate
curiosity about it, Chen told him. Part of the master program compels the
computers to ensure that all five are always in human hands. If one is
destroyed, they must make another—it is quite ironic, in fact. No one is exactly
compelled to be told the meaning and use of the rings, but if someone finds out,
as you have, it becomes dangerous to you and to me. Any attempt to search out
the owners of the other four baubles is, of course, dealt with. I have no desire
to be ‘dealt with,’ as I’m sure you will understand.
Hawks nodded. You have subjected it to testing, though?
I have. Inside its beautiful exterior, under the jade and bonded to the ring in
a way we can but guess upon, there is in effect an incredibly tiny computer.
Unfortunately, someone conveniently lost the operating manual. It became the
signet of the Chairman of the Presidium, the rank that I currently hold. It has
long been suspected of being more than symbolic.
Hawks couldn’t keep his eyes off the ring. It is beautiful, he sighed.
Yes, indeed it is, and that is fitting. I suspect our ancestors who designed
the things had something of a sense of myth, or at least a sense of humor. The
magic rings of power that will unlock the secrets of the universe. Myths and
stories of such things are as old as man himself. In those days a Jason or a
Sinbad would set out on an expedition to get the magic things from the evil
rulers and creatures who possessed them, battling every obstacle of man, nature,
and the supernatural. Now, thanks to the diaspora, the baubles are scattered
amongst the stars, although by the terms of our magic spell—or program, as we
crudely know it today—they all still exist, and all exist in the hands of human
beings who can use them. We have all the makings here of a modern myth, and it
would be a tragedy if (he objects did not look as grand as they were reputed to
be. They are important enough to be forbidden knowledge. You tell me why.
The builders of the Master System knew that what they did was unprecedented and
unpredictable. They could not create it without a means to turn it off or at
least to subjugate it to human will. Master System is compelled by its very core
program to retain the rings, and in the hands of human authority. Humans with
power and position, like yourself, my lord. It must also preserve the interface
and make it possible for the humans, all five, to activate the override. The
rings themselves are only parts of the code. They must all be present and
inserted in a proper order. If that is done, Master System will submit to the
orders and control of the five.
I have suspected something of the sort through other sources, but this is
absolute confirmation. I shall want all the details you can remember from the
old documents. Naturally, this is all being recorded.