Midnight at the Well of Souls

THE BARONY OF AZKFRU, AKKAFIAN EMPIRE

The Baron Azkfru was furious.

“What do you mean he wasn’t there?” he stormed.

The Diviner and The Rel remained impassive and apparently unperturbed as usual.

“We had no problems concealing ourselves through the first day,” The Rel reported, “and acted about an hour after nightfall. When we approached the structure where Skander almost had to be, The Diviner sensed a change in the balancing equation. A new factor had been introduced. Skander had been there, but had left.”

“What do you mean a new factor?” snarled the Baron.

“In the most basic terms,” The Rel explained patiently, “someone knew we were coming and what we were after. So either by direct warning or the indirect action of others, Skander was not there when we were. It was much too dangerous to remain there any length of time awaiting a possible return, so we broke off and returned here.”

Azkfru was stunned. “A leak? Here? But, that’s impossible! It couldn’t have been any of my people—they’re too thoroughly under my control. And, if anyone from the Imperial Palace had a reconditioned plant here, I wouldn’t still be alive now. If there’s a leak, it must be on your side.”

“It is possible our intentions were divined in the same way we divine the actions of others,” The Rel admitted, “but it is impossible for any in my own leadership to have betrayed us, and you, yourself, saw to the security when we came cross Zone. A release of information on your side remains the most likely explanation.”

“Well, we’ll dismiss the blame for now,” Azkfru said more calmly, “and proceed from here. What do we do now?”

“Skander is still the only link we have to concrete knowledge of the puzzle,” The Rel pointed out. “And, its location is known, if presently unattainable. The Diviner states that Skander’s research was incomplete, and it must return to the learning place sooner or later. We are now attuned to that, and will know when. It is suggested that we bide our time until this Skander is again within our grasp. We did not compromise the plan, we just about proved it. It is still workable.”

“Very well,” growled Azkfru. “Will you stay here?”

“We miss our homeland and constructive endeavor,” The Rel replied, “but the mission is too vital. We will remain. Our needs are few, our requirements simple. A dark, bare cell will be sufficient, and an avenue to the surface every once in a while to stand beneath the stars. Nothing more. In the meantime, I would check your own security. It will profit us little if such a thing happens again!”

Soon after The Diviner and The Rel were seen to, the baron flew to the Imperial Palace and, securing a Zone pass, returned to his office in Zone. He was confident that he wouldn’t be alive if it were any of his own people, so that left alien intervention—which meant Zone.

The offices, even the walls, were practically torn apart. It took almost two days and the destruction of more than half the embassy to find it. A tiny little transmitter inserted in his communications unit in his own office! His technicians examined it, but could be of little help.

“The range is such that it would carry to over four hundred other embassies,” one explained to him. “Of the four hundred, almost three hundred are functional and used, and, of those, more than half are technologically capable of creating such a device, while the rest could probably purchase it untraceably, and almost all could place the device during a slow period when you were away.”

He had most of his office staff ritually executed anyway, not that it made him feel any better—just less foolish.

Someone had heard him kill General Ytil.

Someone had spied when The Diviner and The Rel had come through, and listened to their initial conversations in his office.

No more, he knew. But that was bad enough.

Someone else now knew at least what Skander was.

He had no choice, though, he realized. He had to wait.

Almost fifteen weeks.