Foundation and Chaos

82.

Wanda stood in the huge Streeling Central Travel Station, wrapped in her warmest coat-a thin decorative wrap. The air in the cavernous taxi and robo hangar was cooler than in the rest of the Sector-about eight degrees, and getting colder. Ventilation and conditioning had been fluctuating for eighteen hours now, and air was being pumped in by emergency blowers from outside, bringing Streeling from perpetual springtime to a chill autumn none of its inhabitants was quite prepared for. No official explanation had been given, and she expected none-it was part and parcel with the broken ceil and the general air of malaise that seemed to grip the planet.

Stettin returned from the information booth beneath the high steel and ceram archway. “Taxi and robo dispatch is pretty jerky,” he said. “We’ll have to wait another twenty or thirty minutes to get to the courts.”

Wanda clenched her fists. “He almost died yesterday-”

“We don’t know what happened,” Stettin reminded her.

“If they can’t protect him, who can?” she demanded. Her guilt was not assuaged by the fact that Grandfather had ordered her to go into hiding upon his arrest, and not to emerge until his release.

Stettin shrugged. “Your grandfather has his own kind of luck. We seem to share it. That woman is dead.” They had heard this much in the official news-the assassination of Farad Sinter, and the unexplained death of Vara Liso, identified as the woman Sinter had placed in charge of many of the searches that had prompted rioting in Dahl, the Agora of Vendors, and elsewhere.

“Yes-but you felt the-” Wanda did not have words to describe the shock wave of some sort of extraordinary combat.

Stettin nodded soberly. “My head still hurts.”

“Who could have blocked Liso? We couldn’t have, not all of the mentalics, even had we allied.”

“Someone else, stronger than her,” Stettin suggested. “How many are there like Vara Liso?”

“No more, I hope. But if we can recruit this other-”

“It would be like having a scorpion in our midst. What could we do with such a person? Anything that displeases-” Wanda began to pace. “I hate this,” she said. “I want to get off this accursed planet, away from the Center. I wish they’d let us take Grandfather with us. Sometimes he seems so frail!”

Stettin looked up at a warm rich hum, different from the gut rural grav-stator grumble of the taxis and the whine of the robos. He patted Wanda’s shoulder and pointed. An official transport from the Commission of Public Safety was decelerating smoothly in their lane. It slowed directly beside them. Other passengers glared at this intrusion of an official vehicle into public taxi lanes, even though the lanes were empty.

The hatch to the transport opened. Within the utilitarian hull, luxury seating and warmth and a golden glow awaited. Sedjar Boon stood up in the hatchway and peered at them.

“Wanda Seldon Palver?” he inquired.

She nodded.

“I represent your grandfather.”

“I know. You’re one of Chen’s legal staff, aren’t you?”

Boon looked irritated, but did not deny the accusation.

“Chen would leave nothing to chance,” Wanda said, biting off the words. “Where is my grandfather? He had better not be-”

“Physically, he’s fine,” Boon said, “but the courts need someone in his family to accept his release and take charge of him.”

“What do you mean, ‘physically’? And why ‘take charge’?”

“I really do represent your grandfather’s interests-however peculiar the arrangement,” Boon said. His brows knit. “Something happened, however, outside of my control, and I just wanted to warn you. He’s uninjured, but there was an incident.”

“What happened?”

Boon surveyed the other waiting passengers, shivering and staring enviously at the transport’s warm interior. “It’s not exactly public knowledge-”

Wanda gave Boon a withering glare and pushed past him into the transport. Stettin followed close behind. “No more talk. Take us to him now,” Wanda said.