Operation Luna by Anderson, Poul. Part four

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage.

To be made honest by an act of Parliament

Call up the bloody Territorials.

Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow

Beside me singing in the wilderness.

Now there’s a choice–heartache or tortured liver!

A sweeter draught than ye will ever taste, I ween.”

I concluded with a wolf-howl and bowed off. Nobody applauded. Well, they

were still busy. I barely saw them as deeper shadows, dancing and

gesticulating. Sparks spat blue in midair. I caught a brimstone whiff.

A crystal globe on the desk came alight. Writing appeared in it.

No, nothing alien, nothing ominous. Simply:

3, UPPER SWANDAM LANE

LONDON–

The globe blanked too fast for me to catch the postal zone.

Corposants brightened to normal. Ginny and Frogmorton let out shuddery

breaths. Sweat glistened on their faces. They’d been through a mill.

“Did you get all of that?” I cried.

“Oh, yes,” Ginny whispered. “How could I not?”

“And I,” Frogmorton said, no louder.

He shook himself. Amazingly for an old geezer, he went directly back to

the shelves, took down a huge atlas, spread it on the desk, consulted

the index, and turned to a map of a city section. His finger traced over

the page. Ginny bent close.

“Here,” he said. “A sideway, virtually an alley, in Limehouse.”

Her laugh rattled. “Limehouse? Isn’t that ridiculously obvious?”

“Which may be why he chose it, Dr. Matuchek. I don’t know what the

building is like, although I would guess an abandoned warehouse or a

dubious commercial establishment in that rather decayed district. One

can readily learn. At any rate, there he sits motionless, like a spider

in the center of its web, but that web has a thousand radiations, and he

knows well every quiver of each of them.

“Enough for the nonce.” Frogmorton turned away. “I decree that we have

earned a bit of ease.”

From the cabinet he took glasses and a bottle of Ragganmore, bless his

tasteful heart. His alembic furnished Highland spring water. We sat for

a while in companionable silence. The weather wildened.

“Perhaps we should inform the authorities,” Frogmorton ventured at

length.

“No,” Ginny answered. “You know perfectly well Fu would be gone before

they got there. Later, okay, pro forma, we can if you like. But first

Steve and I have to go.”

“The dangers are incalculable.”

Her tone went steely. “Sir, my brother’s reputation and liberty are at

stake.”

And possibly all our hopes and ambitions, or Western civilization, or

humanity’s future in the cosmos, or something else that I didn’t feel

like windbagging about. Mainly, I was goddamn mad. Whoever or whatever

the jackals were behind our troubles, I wanted at them.

“I know,” Frogmorton said softly. “I raised the question from a sense of

duty.” His glance dropped. “I regret that age and infirmity make me

useless in anything but an advisory capacity. Morbi tristisque

senectus.”

Ginny reached over and patted his hand. “Do you really imagine we can

manage without your counsel?”

“Yeah,” I chimed in. “Unlike the young gaucho named Bruno, I say as a

werewolf I do know that muscles are fine, sharp senses divine, but

brains, they are numero uno.”

Resolution rose afresh in him. “What do you mean to attempt?” he asked.

“That depends,” I replied. “Basically, I guess, break in, confront him,

and demand to know what the hell is going on.”

Frogmorton frowned. “He is well guarded.”

“Unless they keep silver bullets loaded, I’ve a notion I can handle his,

uh, dacoits or whatever you call ’em.”

Now Frogmorton winced. “We don’t want violence, Mr. Matuchek, do we?”

His tone steadied. “Indeed, I suspect Dr. Fu employs it–the physical

kind–only as a last resort. You will be in much greater peril from

things much more recondite.”

“That’s why I’ll need a familiar,” Ginny said.

There’s a lot of misinformation around about familiars. They don’t just

run errands and such. They lend their thaumaturges psychic strength and,

through whatever degree of rapport is possible, their nonhuman

viewpoints, insights. They can serve as vessels of power or of

spirit–they can be comrades in battle–how well we knew!

“Plus a weapon against Fu’s critters,” I added. “Can you help us with

Leave a Reply