The Best Made Plans by Everett B. Cole (best pdf ebook reader for android txt) 📕

"Yeah," the other said coldly. "Sure. Now, suppose we take a little walk, you and I? Some people down the street would like to talk to you."

Don shook his head. "I merely came here to sell mats," he insisted. "I make good mats."

The heavy man frowned. "Maybe," he snapped. "We'll see about that after we've had a talk with you." He stepped closer. "If you're just a mat maker, nothing will happen to you. If you really have good mats, you might even get a nice price for some of your stuff. Come on."

He reached out to take Don's sleeve. Don stepped back, his face suddenly losing its vague, apologetic expression. His features sharpened, to become hard, uncompromising.

"Get over to that wall, Fellow," he ordered sharply. "Move!"

The man's hand dropped. For a moment, he stared slackly at Don.

"Come on!" Don's voice raised a little. "Get over to that wall. And then stand still." He started to shuck off the straps of his pack.

The man before him sobbed helplessly, then shuffled away. Don knelt down and stripped the pack off. Then he stepped aside and raised a hand in a beckoning gesture.

"Now get over here," he snapped. "Pick up that pack and take it up to Mr. Tona's office. I'll follow you."

The man in the cubby rubbed his head for a moment, then picked up the phone. Don swung toward him. "Put that phone back," he ordered, "and come out of there. You're coming with us."

Korentona looked up as the small procession entered his office.

"What's happened now?"

Don nodded at him, then faced the man with the pack.

"Put that pack down," he commanded. "Now, stand over there." He pointed. "And be very quiet." He glanced at the doorman.

"You can stay where you are." He looked at Korentona.

"My apologies," he said, "for being so informal. But I come from the Kor-en, and I had a little trouble. There's a message for you in the pack. You know, of course, where to find it. Who are these two?"

Korentona looked worried. "This one," he pointed at the doorman, "is a trusted employee. He's been with me for years."

He paused, looking at the other man. "But this one, I have never trusted. I'm sure he reports to the police."

Don glanced at the doorman. "My apologies," he said. "You are free to go as you will." He looked closely at the other.

"Is this correct?" he demanded. "Are you a police agent?"

The man nodded. "That's right," he said reluctantly. "I'm supposed to watch this place and report on its visitors."

"Here," Don told him, "is one visitor you won't report." He stopped, considering, then impaled the man with a cold stare.

"Have you ever seen a man bitten by a gersal?"

The man shrugged. "Yeah. What about it?"

Don nodded. "You will remember that scene," he said. "Do you remember that man's struggles? Do you remember the animal, chewing at him, injecting its poison? Do you remember this man dropping, first to his knees, then to his back? Do you remember——"

"Hey!" protested the other. His hands came up before his face.

"Put those hands down," snapped Don. "And listen closely. I want you to have full recall on this. You remember this man who was bitten, how he sobbed for breath—how his legs stretched out and his back arched, till the muscles tore from the bones with their effort. You remember all this?"

The man nodded wordlessly, his fascinated stare fixed on Don's face.

"Then I want you to fix this in your mind," Don told him. "Should you be so unwise as to attempt to mention any of these things that have happened since you came down those stairs—should you even allow your memory to dwell on these things for too long—these are the things that will happen to you.

"You will sink to your knees. Your muscles will be unable to support you, and you will fall to your back. You will find it impossible to breathe, for the muscles of your chest will distend the ribs. And in your struggles, you will break bones. And you will tear your body to bits. Do you understand this?"

The man sagged against the wall, panting. He managed a nod.

"Then forget about this afternoon," commanded Don. "Go about your business in normal fashion. And forget about this afternoon. Nothing happened that was worthy of note." He waved a hand in dismissal, then turned to Korentona.

"I don't want to go into a lot of detail," he said. "As I said, there's a detailed message in the pack. I'll wait for you to read it." He glanced down at his clothing.

"I'd like a place, though, where I can clean up. And I could use some other clothes, if you don't mind."

When he came back to the office, Korentona waved him to a chair.

"So," he said musingly, "they were right. You did go to the clans for aid." He smiled.

"The police have been keeping close watch on everyone in the city who might have even a remote connection with the hill clans. And they're really keeping an eye on the Waern home. You're going to have a nice time getting in there."

Don nodded. "I expected some trouble. Do you know whether they've done any searching?"

Korentona shrugged. "I don't run an investigative agency," he said with a smile, "so I don't know everything that's going on. But I've heard there've been lights on up there nearly every night. And they've had crowds of people around the place. Not so much activity the last couple of days, though. They're just watching."

"I see," Don nodded. "Wonder if they've found what they were looking for?"

The other shook his head, "Doubt it," he said. "If they had, they'd relax. Now that I know what it's all about, I can figure out what I've heard. They'll take off the watch as soon as they find that book, I think.

"Oh, of course, they still want you," he added. "And they'd like to get their hands on the Waernu. But they wouldn't be frantic about it if they weren't worried about the outcome of a conclave."

"No," agreed Don. "I guess they wouldn't, at that."

He stretched. "Well, guess I'd better get on my way. I've got to get into that house somehow. Think I'll take a wander out there and see if I can get some ideas."

The merchant put up a detaining hand. "Take it slow," he advised. "You can't go up there tonight."

"Oh?"

"No. It wouldn't be wise at all. There are a bunch of young fellows that have been hanging around there lately. It isn't safe to walk around that neighborhood. They've beaten five or six people pretty badly. And they've killed a couple." Korentona paused.

"Funny," he added. "The police don't seem to be so upset about that."

"They wouldn't be," Don told him.

"So you think I'd better wait till morning?"

"It'll be a lot better. I can give you a place to stay tonight. And my house isn't too far from the Waern place, so you can get over there in a hurry if you want to." Korentona paused.

"Say, how about that fellow, Foree? Are you sure he'll keep quiet?"

Don smiled. "Pretty certain. Of course, I don't know whether an effort to talk would actually kill him. But he'd be pretty uncomfortable for a while. Might even come up with shock amnesia." The smile broadened.

"He may have already done enough careless thinking by this time to make him pretty sick." He regarded Korentona thoughtfully.

"You say there's a gang of young fellows hanging around the Waern neighborhood?"

The merchant nodded. "Quite a few of them, I think. People living around there don't spend any time on the street or in the park, you can be sure of that."

"I see." Don nodded slowly. "That way, it's a lot easier to watch the Waern place at night. Look, there must be quite a few hillmen in this city. I should think you'd know quite a number of them."

"Yes, I do, of course." Korentona smiled. "We don't exactly form a closed group, but ... well, I'll have to admit we do think a little differently from the plainsmen."

"I know." Don reached into his jacket and slowly withdrew a stick with a thong wrapped around it.

"Many of your friends carry these?"

The merchant laughed. "Certainly!" He produced a polished stick of his own.

"Can you imagine any clansman without this sling?"

Don looked at him speculatively. "I wonder," he said casually, "what would happen if these young toughs found themselves being hunted down by ... say ten or fifteen blood hungry clansmen. Might worry them a little, wouldn't you think?"

Korentona shook his head doubtfully. "You know what the situation is here in Riandar," he remarked. "The police don't worry too much about these robberies and beatings. But they'd be pretty perturbed if someone started hunting the hunters."

"That's what I mean." Don spread his hands. "Might even get the people watching the Waern place upset and nervous." He shrugged. "And who's to know what caused the uproar, or who's involved? After all, all the clansmen were at home. The watchers on their houses could testify to that."

Korentona looked at him curiously. "Interesting idea, at that, you know." He got to his feet. "Suppose we talk it over