Green, Sharon - Mists of the Ages

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file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Sharon%20Green%20-%20Mists%20of%20the%20Ages.txt

SHARON GREEN

has written:

THE FAR SIDE OF FOREVER

LADY BLADE, LORD FIGHTER

MISTS OF THE AGES

THE REBEL PRINCE

The Terrilian Series

THE WARRIOR WITHIN

THE WARRIOR ENCHAINED

THE WARRIOR REARMED

THE WARRIOR CHALLENGED

THE WARRIOR VICTORIOUS

The Jalav: Amazon Warrior Series

THE CRYSTALS OF MIDA

AN OATH TO MIDA

CHOSEN OF MIDA

THE WILL OF THE GODS

TO BATTLE THE GODS

The Diana Santee Series

MIND GUEST

GATEWAY TO XANADU

MISTS

OF THE

AGES

SHAROHOREEH

DAW BOOKS, INC.

DONALD A. WOLLHEIM, PUBLISHER

1633 Broadway. New York, NY 10019

Cover art by Ken Kelly-

DAW Book Collectors No. 756.

Dedication:

This one, with apologies, is for, in alphabetical order;

Robert Adams and Pamela Crippen Adams,

Alexis Giililand and Dolly Gillilaod,

Joel Rosenberg and Felicia Hermann Rosenberg.

Six people who are delightfully easy to like.

First Printing, September 1988

123456789

Printed in the U.S.A.

Chapter 1

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I stood in the middle of the veiy posh office, looking

around by the light of the faint glow coming from the

eight-foot desk, trying to feel where the hidey-hole

was. With the building shut down for the night most

of the maintenance systems were on low-power

standby, leaving only the security checks fully active

and alert. If you stop to listen you can hear mainte-

nance systems, but security nets can only be detected

by instruments or nerve endings. I'd used both to get

through the net, and now stood in low-power silence

trying to detect where the safe spot had been put.

Even the heavy shadows couldn't hide the position

of the wall vault from me. and I had to turn my back

on the comer before it would stop jumping up and

down in my face, waving its arms trying to get my

attention. Sometimes the talent of finding things like

that makes itself more of a handicap than a help, get-

ting in your way when it's the really obscure location

you're trying to pinpoint. The wall vault would have

illegal documents and negotiable securities and a good

chunk of cash and possibly even jewelry and drugs that

were exchangeable for cash, but I had no use for fri-

volities and no time to waste picking them up. I was

after something a lot more delicate in nature and val-

uable in potential, a special prize that would not be

kept with everything else.

Turning away from the wall vault faced me toward

one of the rows of windows, me one that had been on

my left when I'd entered the office. The second row

had faced me when I'd come in and now decorated

6 Sharwt Green

most of the wall to the right. Comer offices had been

high status just about forever, but wouldn't have been

quite as popular if the occupants had to wash all those

windows they were so proud of. The thought made me

grin into me near dark I stood in, a little female humor

injected into an otherwise dull time, and then I began

laughing softly instead of grinning. What I had thought

of as a joke was my subconscious noticing something

the rest of me hadn't, and I was forced to admire the

skill that had almost gotten it past me. The safe spot

in that office was very well situated, but "almost"

doesn't make me mark.

I moved carefully around the desk and approached

the second window-section from the left, every sense

I had extended and alert. It seemed possible that some

part of the floor would be pressure sensitive, and I

found out rather quickly that ft certainly was. Once I

discovered that, it was back to the desk to check for

the controls that would not be part of the general sys-

tems, but once found the switches weren't difficult to

neutralize. They couldn't be turned off without acti-

vating a different set of alarms, of course, something

a large number of my contemporaries had learned the

hard way, but setting them to neutral didn't produce

the same results.

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Neutral was off enough to suit my purposes, and let

me turn away from the desk to examine what I'd found.

The window-section that had caught my attention was

no window-section, and with the system deactivated I

was able to get a good look at the four-foot by four-

foot safe spot. The repeater screen that covered it most

of the time was excellently made. but that very excel-

lence had been its greatest flaw. The other windows in

the office were filthy with the usual city grime that

settles on everything no matter how often washing is

done, but that section of window was measurably

cleaner. The system designer hadn't been stupid

enough to leave it spotless, but had erred on the short

side when it came to "dirty enough." Most people

would never have noticed something like that, but

that's what makes me more valuable than most people.

There was a fairly complex maze lock on the safe

MISTS OF THE AGES 7

spot entry, but maze locks, as they say, are only good

for keeping out the honest. Opening it took no more

than a few minutes, and then I was able to slide the

entry down out of my way so that I might look at what

it normally hid. Only four of the dozen or so com-

partments were filled, two with off-planet bank notes

• that might well have been counterfeit, a third with a

large, tightly-stoppered vial filled with something

bright yellow that glowed very faintly, and a fourtE

with a narrow envelope which was clearly from an

expensive set of stationery. I took the envelope and

folded it, stuffed it inside a pocket of my belt, then

put the safe spot entry back where it belonged.

Returning everything to normal took almost as long

as deactivating it had, but under those circumstances

it wasn't a waste of time. Once I'd rechecked the last

set of circuits I'd worked, I connected the final lead

that meshed everything back into place, then was able

to disconnect my diddle box, allowing the next intru-

sion signal generated to go to the security force board

instead of a dead-end panel in the box. I'd been taught

to cover the possibility that I wasn't as good as I

thought I was and would therefore set off some kind

of alarm during the prowl, and found it wise to never

forget the lesson. Seero had taught me that, just as

he'd taught me all the rest, but I'd learned on my own

that there were times when all the caution in the Em-

pire just wasn't enough to make a difference.

I left the building through a maintenance duct that

led to the parking level of the building next door,

stayed out of range of the scanners until I was back in

a normal, street-type bodysuit, then ambled to my

jump-around with all the nonconcem of any woman

who knows she's parked in a total visibility area. Not

only are there no blind spots in a t.v. area, anyone

stepping or driving into the section activates real-time

monitoring by the duty guards. If an emergency hap-

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pens they can get there fast, and they usually make the

effort to move. There are cash bonuses and public rec-

ognition each month for the fastest response to any

activated emergency, and any team logging twelve

wins gets put on a roster of perpetual commendation.

8 SfUJTtHlGfWM

Gryphon was a world that knew the benefits in paying

for what it wanted, and what it wanted was maximum

effort from the people whose job it was to protect oth-

ers. Substantial annual salaries attracted the best, bo-

nuses and public commendations kept them; with those

who couldn't afford to have the notoriety, stroking was

arranged on a somewhat more discreet level.

My jump-around unlocked itself at my approach, and

I unobtrusively checked the back before getting in and

starting it up. I didn't really expect to find anyone

hiding in the back seat, but when you know how to

get around t.v. areas and approach locks, you tend to

remember that others can do the same. No one should

have known where I was and what I was doing, but

that didn't mean no one did; the faster you learned

should-haves can turn quickly into dids, the better your

chances became of surviving.

I had casually thrown my shoulder bag to the front

seat beside me, but once I was out of the parking level

and skimming along a concourse, my main priority

became getting the contents of the bag property seen

to. I wasn't due to deliver the envelope I'd taken for

another two and a half hours; simply carrying it with

me would have been possible but not terribly bright. I

was scheduled to visit some old friends during me time

I had free, but not everyone around them would also

be friends. If you make a habit of wiggling your back-

side at the Pates, you can't really complain when they

arrange a suitable response to the gesture.

Not being the sort to make gestures for no reason,

by the time I reached the nightclub district I had my

prowling suit, tools, and belt all neatly tucked away

in the safe spot in my Jump-around. No hiding place

is really safe if its location can change as soon as you

turn your back on it, but many tiroes half measures are

better than none at all. Even if someone managed to

steal the Jump-around, they would only be close to the

rest, not have it.

And having the Jump-around stolen wasn't that far

out of the question, not in thai neighborhood. Once ^

off the concourse I drove more slowly, paying atten- §

tion to the darkened, dirty streets and watching those ^

MISTS OF THE AGES 9

who roamed about on them. OH the outer fringes of

the district were most of the nightclubs the city

boasted, and the foot traffic moved easily under bright

lights with easy companionship and enjoyment. About

three blocks beyond that thedistrict changed, and al-

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though there were still clubs they weren't the sort to

announce their whereabouts with lights and laughter.

Those who patronized this sub-district usually had

money and the urge for anonymity, a combination

which encouraged the presence of those who mot lOBcd

to take things whose absence would not bettported to

the proper authorities. If you're only gofflg to Heal

what's safe. I don't understand why you'd boAer, but

that's a personal prejudice. Others don't took at it the

same, which is really too bad.

The parking lot of the Dark of the Moon Club sat

beneath the delicate blue glow of its name sign, at

least three-quarters of it neatly and quietly fifled. I

pulled into a spot between a limo and a new-model

sports job, which was the best I could do in me way

of protective prevention. In company like that, my lit-

tle jump-around was hardly worth looking at, and that,

hopefully, meant it would still be there when I came

out.

Getting out of my transportation brought me the stale

but familiar smell of the air in that district, air that

seemed to be holding itself as still as possible to avoid

being noticed. It was an attitude that seemed to be

shared by a lot of the denizens of the area, and one

that had never failed to annoy me. I could understand

not wanting to be noticed at certain times, but to spend

your lire slipping from shadow to shadow, afraid to be

touched by the light of day, afraid to be seen by any-

one who might take note and remember—I had grown

up in that area and learned a lot of things there, but

that particular attitude wasn't one of them. I enjoyed

standing tall no matter who was watching, and if the

day ever came that I couldn't, I would know my lire

was coming to an end.

Walking through the dark to the modest front en-

trance of the club didn't take long, and I smiled when

I remembered the days there had been scanners which

10 Sharon Green

checked out all new arrivals. What the club had of-

fered then was blatantly illegal rather than just mildly

so, and they*d had to be careful not to be surprised by

unexpected visits. When the club had changed hands

its policies had also changed, and it had become a

place where people could meet friends and sit and talk

in relative comfort, or indulge in certain vices mat

affected no one but themselves. Those of us who be-

came old time regulars after the change preferred it

that way, and with the amounts of money the club was

now making legally, it wasn't likely to change back

again. When I reached the front entrance I pushed in-

side to the outer foyer, and the maitre d' on duty

glanced up from his station, then suddenly grinned.

"Well, will you look at that." he drawled in greet-

ing, nothing left of his usual professional aloofness of

manner. "We must be starting that age of miracles the

preachers keep telling us is on me way. Inky has fi-

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Green, Sharon - Mists of the Ages

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