What shall become of her?
He started to get into bed, intending simply slumber. She roused. Slaves learn to sleep alertly. He saw joy blossom in her. “My lord! Welcome, a thousand welcomes!”
They held each other close. Just the same, he found he wanted to talk with her. “How did your day go?” he asked into the warmth where her jaw met her ear.
“What? I – O master -” She was surprised that he would ask. “Why, it was pleasant, surely because your dear magic lingered. Your servant Pummairam and I chatted a long while.” She giggled. “He’s an engaging scoundrel, isn’t he? Some of his questions struck too near the bone, but have no fear, my lord; those I refused to answer, and he backed off at once. Later I sallied forth, leaving word where I could be found should my lord return, and spent the afternoon in the nursery where my children are. They are such darlings.” She didn’t venture to inquire if he would care to meet them.
“Hm.” A thought nudged Everard. “What did Pum do meanwhile?” I can’t see him sitting idle all day, that squirrel.
“I know not. Well, I glimpsed him twice, on his errands down the corridors, but took it for given that my lord must have commanded -My lord?” Alarmed, she sat straight as Everard left the bed. He flung open the door to the cubicle. It stood empty. What in hell was Pum up to?
Perhaps nothing much. Yet a servant who got into mischief might cause trouble for his master. Standing there in a brown study, the floor cold beneath his feet, Everard grew aware of arms around his waist, and a cheek stroking across his shoulderblades, and a voice that crooned: “Is my lord overly weary? If so, let his handmaiden sing him a lullaby from her homeland. But if not -”
To hell with my worries. They’ll keep. Everard turned his attention elsewhere, and himself.
The boy was still missing when the man awoke. Discreet questions revealed that he had spent hours the day before, talking with various members of the staff. They agreed he was inquisitive and amusing. Finally he had gone out, and no one had seen him since.
Probably he got restless and flitted off to spend what I’ve given him in the wineshops and cat-houses. Too bad. In spite of his scapegrace style, I thought he was basically reliable, and meant to do something or other that’d give him a chance at a better life. Never mind. I’ve Patrol business on hand.
Everard excused himself from further activities and went alone into the city. As a hireling admitted him to the house of Zakarbaal, Yael Zorach appeared. Phoenician dress and hairdo became her charmingly well, but he was too preoccupied to appreciate it. The same strain showed on her features. “This way,” she said, unwontedly curt, and led him to the inner chambers.
Her husband sat in conference with a craggy-faced, bushy-bearded man whose costume varied in numerous ways from local male dress. “Oh, Manse,” Chaim exclaimed. “What a relief. I wondered if we’d have to send for you, or what.” He switched to Temporal: “Agent Manson Everard, Unattached, let me present Epsilon Korten, director of Jerusalem Base.”
The other man rose in a future-military fashion and snapped a salute. “An honor, sir,” he said. Nonetheless, his rank was not much below Ever-ard’s. He was responsible for temporal activities throughout the Hebrew lands, between the birth of David and the fall of Judah. Tyre might be more important in secular history, but it would never draw a tenth of the visitors from uptime that Jerusalem and its environs did. The position he held told Everard immediately that he was both a man of action and a scholar of profundity.
“I’ll have Hanai bring in refreshments, and then tell the household to stay out of here and not let anybody in,” Yael proposed.
Everard and Korten spent those minutes getting an acquaintance started. The latter was born in twenty-ninth century New Edom on Mars. While he didn’t brag, Everard gathered that his computer analyses of early Semitic texts had joined his exploits as a spaceman in the Second Asteroid War to attract Patrol recruiters. They sounded him out, got him to take tests which proved him trustworthy, revealed the existence of the organization, accepted his enlistment, trained him – the usual procedure. What was less usual was his level of competence. In many ways, his job was more demanding than Everard’s.