Fool's Run (v1.1) by Patricia A. McKillip Read Free Book Online Page B

in there?”
    “I was looking for someone.”
    “Did you find him?”
    “Her.” He resisted an impulse to shift under the Magician’s curious gaze. “No.”
    “The outcasts of this century in the graveyard of the last,” Sidney said thoughtfully. “I wonder what music they play…” He caught the Magician’s smile. “No, I’m serious. Imagine what instruments they might invent, what music would occur to them in such isolation… Speaking of isolation, that reminds me: How would you like a free trip to the Underworld?”
    The Magician’s smile vanished. All the expression in his face disappeared; he looked, Aaron thought, as if he had just become his own effigy. Then he was back among them, his voice dry, slightly shaken.
    “Is there a return ticket?”
    “Did I phrase it that badly?” Sidney wondered.
    “Well, no, but why do you want to send me to the Underworld? I thought you liked my music.”
    “I do. That’s the point. Some creative soul up there realized that the near-total silence on the Underworld might have a debilitating effect on prisoners who will serve their terms and be reabsorbed into Earth society. We have to live with them: that’s the thrust of their Rehab program. To some extent we can determine what it is we want to live with.” His fingers strayed through the deck of cards as if gathering information from them. “They’re up there in that twisted doughnut, spinning around a vacuum. On Earth a prisoner might hear wind. Rain. A cricket. Water flowing. A sound barrier broken. Air traffic. In Corcrow Prison they hear the sea and the factory generators. All the small sounds of the daily life of the society they’re excluded from and will go back to… to live within the continuity of Earth-time, with both feet somewhere near the ground…”
    The Magician made an acquiescent rumble. “I can’t argue with that,” he said mildly. “But why—”
    “Why you? The Rehab Director wants me to go up and listen to their silence. He also wants me to suggest an experimental music program, among other things. I thought of Nova immediately. You’re colorful, you’re too disciplined to get into trouble in the Underworld, and you know what I think of your music. It’s time you got some publicity. You’d do one concert in the Underworld, and if your band agrees, I’ll hand the matter over to the Suncoast Agency and they’ll arrange an off-world tour for you.”
    The Magician’s face was flushed under the smudges of magenta. Once again he was at loss for words. Aaron grinned.
    “You said you needed a change, Magic-Man.”
    “Will you do it?”
    “An off-world tour? With your backing? Sidney, that’s—that’s—”
    “There won’t be much time to prepare: less than a month. But you’ll have a captive audience up there, in more places than the Underworld.” He chuckled indulgently at his own joke. “Think about it. Talk to your band.”
    “They’ll go. I’ll have to get the Flying Wail into shape.”
    “The Agency could provide a smallcraft.”
    “No. I like using my own equipment. I haven’t taken the Flying Wail off-Earth in five years… Sidney, that’s—thank you.”

    “You’re getting too good for this place,” Sidney said, “and you’re welcome.” His big hands swept the clutter of cards back into order. “Now. One more hand. Something easy.”
    “Wild Star. It’s quick and easy. Seven-card draw, jokers wild, draw comes back up—How do you expect me to maintain a poker face with an offer like that?”
    “It’s my strategy,” Sidney said gravely. An inner clock geared to the restless, tidal movements of the night made Aaron shrug himself away from the wall. He lingered, though, to watch Sidney pick up his cards.
    In the next second he remembered to breathe. He willed his bones loose once more against the wall and sent thought-messages to Sidney: Don’t blink. Don’t let your voice change.
    Pretend it’s a handful of nothing… Sidney shoved a chip into