Part 78 (2/2)
VEIKKO: ... What shall I do now? I can't target you for the King, Dad. I can't.
WALTER: Now that we're near the mainland, it's going to be tough for anybody to fa.r.s.ense us. Ragnar Gathen and ArneRolf Lillestrom wired up a psychoelectronic fuzzer during the voyage. Crude, but probably effective enough to defeat longrange peeking. Has the King got any mechanical scanners?
VEIKKO: An IR with a range of about 70 kloms, and the aircraft have some kind of ground-combers. Can't you get away?
WALTER: Don't worry about it.
VEIKKO: But I do ... You know I do.
WALTER: If Marc's proposing to tell Hagen and Cloud what I think he is, you may find all our problems solved.
VEIKKO: ? !! ... No matter what Marc promises, we're going to build the Guderian device.
WALTER: Possibly.
VEIKKO: We're all agreed, Dad. Well ... most of us. And the King's on our side.
WALTER: Wait, just the same, until you hear the proposal.
VEIKKO: Walter, you're not switching to his side? G.o.d!
WALTER: I'm on your side, Veik. Always. Now listen. Don't try to contact me again unless you do agree to Marc's proposal.
It'll be too dangerous for both of us. You're almost within Castellane's tracking range now, and if she told Marc what we were doing ... Well, I still might be useful to you if I stay alive. Dead, I'm only useful if I take Kyllikki with me.
VEIKKO: But what'll IWALTER: Wait. It can't be much longer. Goodbye, Veikko.
VEIKKO: Goodbye, Dad.
CHAPTER THREE.
Basil opened his eyes to blurred obscurity. There was red illumination overall and superimposed upon it, subtly writhing, an intricate branched pattern like veins. He heard the soft, regular hiss of surf. He heard a m.u.f.fled cardiac drumbeat: dum-dum (skip) dum-dum (skip) dum-dum (skip). His memory furnished a tune to fit-”Zwei Hertzen in Dreivierteltakt.” He thought: No, it's only one heart in three-quarter time. Mine. In an artificial womb. Constatne?
”Quite right, old friend.”
A pale-coloured blob hovered above eye level. The haziness was abruptly clarified as something crackling and transparent, resembling pla.s.s membrane, was stripped away from his face.
He saw an El Greco angel wearing a golden torc. He said to it, ”Well, Creyn. Have I been in Skin?”
”For two days.”
”I feel very comfortable,” Basil said. The light brightened a bit and took on a more normal spectrum. He was aware of other Tanu standing in the shadowed recesses of the chamber. The carved timbering, stucco walls and baroque window shutters were certainly those of the Black Crag chalet. ”So he brought me here. How perfectly splendid! ... But surely my bones can't have knit already?
”We'll see.” Creyn continued to unwrap him, stuffing the used Skin membrane into a scarlet pouch. He said over his shoulder, ”Lord Healer, will you do the microscan?”
A taller Tanu, dressed like Creyn in red-and-white robes, stepped closer. His eyes with their pinpoint pupils were faded blue with glints of other colours, like certain opals. Except for deep lines about the mouth, his face was youthful. He had hair like fine-spun platinum.
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