Electric lights came on, apparently of their own volition, as Okanda led his guests out into a room that would have been equal in size to the hall above except for the fact that the ceiling was a good deal lower. Whereas the Great Hall was open, and sparsely furnished, this space was fi?lled with row after row of glassed-in display cases, with only narrow aisles between them.
Faced with the prospect of what looked like a long march, combined with what promised to be a boring narrative, Rebo uttered a silent groan as Okanda led his guests into the fi?rst passageway. It was fi?lled with a mind-boggling array of small household appliances. As the government offi?cial led them down the corridor, the visitors were shown machines that the ancients used to toast bread, dry their hair, listen to music, talk to each other, heat their food, and remove unwanted body hair. It was a truly amazing display. However if that section was of interest, the next was even more so, since it was focused on a subject of more than passing interest to at least three of Okanda’s guests. Rebo, Phan, and, to a lesser extent, Hoggles stared in openmouthed lust as they were invited to eyeball case after case of neatly racked weapons. There were knives, pistols, rifl?es, machine guns, and hand grenades, all displayed along with accessories where appropriate, and quantities of ammunition.
Fortunately, Okanda failed to notice the longing looks, or regarded them as understandable, because he was in no way offended when the previously taciturn Phan peppered him with all manner of technical questions having to do with the weapons laid out before her. But all good things must come to an end, so it wasn’t long before the facilitator led the group into the next corridor, which was even more intriguing in its own way. “This,” Okanda announced importantly, “is the section of the museum dedicated to artifacts that we don’t understand fully and probably never will. But our scientists continue to study the more promising specimens in hopes that we will be able to bring some of them back to life.”
The offi?cial wanted to say more, would have said more, had it not been for the fact that one of the objects in front of him chose that particular moment to activate itself. Glass shattered as the metal sphere shot upward, hovered in midair, and made a beeline for Norr. Okanda was startled, but not so startled as to be rendered immobile, and was in the process of bringing a small device up to his lips when Logos spoke from the vicinity of Norr’s neckline. “He’s calling for help! Stop him!”
Phan had bandages on both hands, but there was nothing wrong with the assassin’s feet, and her right boot made contact with Okanda’s head as the young woman performed a So-Lai, or high spin-kick. The offi?cial staggered backward, the communicator fl?ew out of his hand and skittered across the fl?oor.
Then, before Okanda had time to recover, Hoggles was there to wrap the norm in a muscular embrace. In the meantime Norr had intercepted the metal sphere and was holding it with both hands. It was smooth and pleasantly warm.
“It’s a gate seed!” the sensitive exclaimed. “Just like the one we had on Ning!”
“Correct,” Logos said laconically. “Which means that we can depart for Haafa without further delay.”
“Haafa?” Rebo inquired doubtfully. “We’re going to Socket.”
“Yes,” the AI agreed, “we are. After we go to Haafa . . . So stop wasting time, and take me elsewhere. I will need about fi?fteen minutes in which to prepare the network.”
“Listen!” Norr cautioned. “Can you hear that beeping sound? It’s some sort or alarm.”
“That’s correct!” Okanda said, his eyes fl?ashing. “My guards are on the way. . . . I don’t know what sort of machine Citizen Norr has concealed beneath her clothing, but it belongs to the government, and I suggest that you surrender it now.”
There was anger in the facilitator’s voice, and Rebo understood why. “Look,” the runner said, “I’m sorry. I truly am, but we’re going to take some of your weapons, and the sphere. Bo, tie him up. . . . Everyone else, let’s go shopping!”
With no rope or cord at hand the heavy had no choice but to remove the offi?cial’s belt and use that to bind Okanda’s wrists to his ankles. The heavy was still working on the project when more glass shattered. Rebo was still looking for some sort of tool when Phan broke into the cases with a series of very effi?cient elbow strikes. The runner watched in amazement as the young woman plucked a wide assortment of knives, pistols, and other artifacts out of the displays. So many items that he doubted her ability to carry them all.
Still, it was none of his business, so even as the distant Klaxon continued to bleat mournfully, Rebo went about making some selections of his own. The rapid-fi?re Crosser and the long-barreled single-shot Hogger made for an effective combination in the past. But, as the runner ran his eye over rows of gleaming handguns, the familiar shapes were nowhere to be seen.
So, being unfamiliar with many of the pistols racked in front of him, Rebo chose a matched set of stainless-steel semiautomatic Kobos, both because they would fi?re the same ammunition, and he could cannibalize one of them for parts should that become necessary. Fortunately, the clothes he had been given came equipped with plenty of pockets, which the runner proceeded to fi?ll with spare clips plus all the ammo he could lay his hands on.
Then, having cinched his belt in order to keep his heavily weighted pants up, the runner eyed the case again. There weren’t any holsters for the Kobos, but those associated with a neighboring display looked like they might work, so he grabbed two of them and draped the gun belts around his neck.
Conscious of the fact that he had short-term needs as well, and that, without his glasses, he wouldn’t be able to hit anything with a rifl?e, the runner snatched a pump-style shotgun out of a rack and opened the drawer below. It contained four boxes of ammunition. Rebo slid shells into the underside of the receiver as Norr caught his eye. A newly acquired sword was slung across the sensitive’s back, and she held the gate seed with both hands. “They’re coming, Jak! I can feel them!”
“All right,” Rebo shouted, so that everyone could hear.
“Let’s get out of here!”
Norr led the way, followed by Rebo, Hoggles, and Phan. The door appeared to be promising, but when the sensitive went to open it, the barrier refused to budge. “It’s locked!”
Norr exclaimed, and turned to look at the runner.
“Move back,” Rebo ordered grimly, and brought the shotgun to bear on the lock mechanism. The trigger gave, wood shattered, and a resounding boom reverberated through the hall. The runner gave the door a kick, saw it swing open, and pushed his way through.
Meanwhile, the fi?rst of Okanda’s guards entered the museum, spotted the thieves, and opened fi?re. Phan paused to fi?re her new rifl?e and had the satisfaction of seeing a dragoon fall. A fusillade of bullets splintered the area adjacent to the door as the assassin ducked into what turned out to be a circular stairwell. An iron door blocked access to the level below, so Phan went upward, her footsteps ringing on metal treads. The guards entered seconds later, yelled a series of incoherent orders at one another, and began to climb. Meanwhile, in the bell tower high above, the bells began to toll.
Thousands of stars twinkled in the clear night sky as Shaz, Kane, and the metal men neared the fi?fteen-foot-high stone wall that protected the citadel. The party paused to look upward as bells began to peal. Having followed the road into the village below and spent some time in the local tavern, it had been easy to establish the fact that a sensitive, a heavy, and two norms had been taken to the government complex on the hill above. And, while Shaz took comfort from the fact that the man in charge of the fortress was said to favor technology, the offi?cial’s protechnic stance implied a potential downside as well. What if the facilitator was to discover the true nature of the garment Norr was wearing?