Future Indefinite by Dave Duncan Read Free Book Online Page B

.”
    Julian was too astonished to say anything but, “I beg your pardon?” Exeter? Come out of hiding? Parading around in public? Godfathers! He was going to be frightfully dead frightfully quickly if Zath heard of it. Somebody would have to do something. Oh, it couldn’t be! He interrupted Doc’s explanations. “There’s been a mistake! That would be suicide! I mean, he would never—”
    “Sorry, old son. No bally doubt about it.”
    “It can’t be!”
    “It is. Seventy-seven says so, and he knows him as well as any. It’s definitely Exeter and he’s definitely calling himself the Liberator, quite openly.”
    Julian felt sick. “Zath will fry him.”
    “The tough one, old chum, is why Zath hasn’t fried him already.”
    “What does that mean?”
    Alistair raised a sardonic eyebrow. “Our information is that Exeter started a week ago or longer. It’s old news, of course, but if he’s still alive, then he must have made himself reaper-proof, mustn’t he?”
    “I fail to follow you.” Julian would gain nothing by losing his temper. Nor could he defend Exeter’s behavior when he did not even know what it was.
    “You’ve been here long enough to know the rules. If Exeter can protect himself against Zath’s killers, then he must have picked up some jolly powerful mana. I mean, little things like the trapdoor are fine if native bullyboys come after you, but you’d need a sight more heft to take on Zath. How can he have done that?” Doc’s upper lip was very close to a sneer.
    Julian caught his temper just before it escaped. So that was what was in the wind, was it? The Service had never done a damned thing for Edward Exeter, although his father had been one of the founders. It had kidnapped him, ignored him, hindered him, and tried to kill him. Now, apparently, he was going to be maligned as a turncoat. That would be a good excuse to give him even less help in future.
    “Mana? Human sacrifice or ritual prostitution. Like the Chamber does. He took the medal in sixth form for human sacrifice.”
    A long ride on a rabbit was not the best sauce for humor, and Doc’s eyes glinted angrily.
    Julian pressed on. “I haven’t heard a word from him, if that’s what you’re wondering. I don’t know what he’s up to any more than you do.” Almost two years ago, right after the massacre at Olympus, Exeter had walked out of the station and disappeared. Perhaps he had gone insane. That felt like a very disloyal thought. “So why come to me?” Was he going to be tarred with the traitor brush, too?
    Doc shrugged. “Committee wants you back at Olympus. For consultation. I’ll take over your tour here.” He did not add that he would do a much better job of it, but his manner certainly implied that.
    Dammit! The Committee was probably chasing its tail, trying to decide what to do. Because Julian had been at school with Exeter they would assume that he knew him better than anyone else did, but that had been a long time ago. Rivers of blood had flowed since those days. Still, orders were orders, and he couldn’t deny any call that involved Exeter, however unlikely the story sounded at the moment.
    “Then I’d better scoot.”
    Doc blinked. “Tonight, you mean?”
    “It’s a fine night. Should be lots of moonlight. Why not?”
    “It’s your arse.” Doc hauled himself painfully to his feet. “I’m going to stagger down to the village bathhouse and thaw mine out.”
    “Then I’ll see you when the nabobs have done with me,” Julian said cheerfully. With luck he could disappear over the horizon before anyone told Alistair about the eighteen converts. That was a pleasing thought.

6
    It was close to midnight, and Cherry Blossom House was having a poor night. Half the tables were empty, the roar of conversation was so muted that Potstit Lutist’s playing was audible at the far end of the big dark room.
    The true artist, so Grandfather Trong had always said, regarded a poor audience as a challenge to