Old Venus

The Godstone of Venus

MIKE RESNICK

“DOES IT EVER STOP RAINING?” ASKED SCORPIO, LOOKING OUT the window as the rain splashed into the ocean.

“They say it did once, for almost a whole week, about thirty years ago,” replied the bartender, carrying a pair of purple concoctions over to Scorpio, handing one to him and drinking the other himself as he walked back to the bar.

Marcus Aurelius Scorpio was seated at a wooden table next to a large window. The tavern sat atop a huge rocky promontory, with a vast ocean surrounding three sides of it, and a crushed-rock path leading down to a dense jungle behind it.

“That was a rhetorical question,” replied Scorpio.

“Yeah, you don’t look drunk enough for it to be a serious one—yet,” replied the bartender. “Where’s your partner?”

Scorpio shrugged. “Beats me. He’ll be by later.”

“How’d you ever hook up with something like him?” asked the bartender. “Or is he an it?”

“Not unless one of his ladyfriends got mad at him since this morning,” replied Scorpio.

“You know, Venus has got a lot of races, some of ’em bright, some of ’em barely able to scratch without instructions, but your partner is the strangest of ’em all, or my name ain’t Lucius Aloisius McAnany.”

“When you get right down to it, your name isn’t Lucius anymore. Most of the locals can’t pronounce it, so it’s Luke.”

“But when I pay my taxes it’s Lucius.”

Scorpio looked amused. “When did you ever pay taxes?”

“Well, if I did,” said McAnany, “it’d be as Lucius.”

“I think I’ll go back to listening to the rain hit the windows,” said Scorpio. “It makes more sense.”

McAnany was about to reply when he was drowned out by the hooting of a huge golden fish that stuck its head out of the tank that rested on a shelf behind the bar.

“All right, all right!” he muttered, pouring the remainder of his drink into the tank. The fish swam right through the spreading purple liquid, hooted happily, and turned a trio of back somersaults.

“Look at that,” said McAnany disgustedly. “A goddamned alcoholic fish.” He pointed to a bright orange creature that hung upside down on the ceiling. “And what passes for a bat on this idiot world, and eats nothing but cigar butts. Damned lucky for him none of the Venusian races ever get lung cancer. Probably just their bartenders.” He paused, then slammed a fist down on the bar. “What the hell are a couple of Earthmen like us doing on this godforsaken world anyway?”

“Drinking purple stuff.”

“Damn it, you know what I mean!” growled McAnany. “I could have been a bartender back in Klamath Falls. I mean, hell, we had enough goddamned water there. No, I had to come to the Planet of Opportunity to make my millions.” He spat on the bare wooden floor. “Opportunity, my ass!”

“So go home,” said Scorpio.

“And do what? I’m sixty-three years old, and I’ve been bartending here for more than thirty years. I’m too old to retrain.”

“So go home and tend bar there.”

“To tell the truth, I’m afraid to,” admitted McAnany. “Thirty years is a long time. Who the hell knows what it’s like there now?”

Scorpio made no reply, and McAnany glared at him. “Anyone ever tell you that sympathy’s not your long and strong suit?”

“From time to time.”

“Didn’t have any effect on you then, either, I’ll bet.”

Scorpio looked over McAnany’s shoulder at the door, which was just opening. A couple walked in, drenched despite all their protections against the weather.

“Hell of a day!” muttered the burly man, removing his outer garments and tossing them carelessly on the end of the bar, revealing a pockmarked, mustached face with a thick head of wavy gray hair. He then helped the woman out of her protective gear, and Scorpio saw that she was a curvaceous, expensively clad woman—or at least female—with light blue skin and matching hair.

“Pretty much the same as all the other days around here,” replied McAnany.

“That’s a depressing thought,” said the woman. “What have you got to drink?”

“You name it, and I’ve either got it or I’ll fake it.”

The woman looked at Scorpio. “I’ll have what that man is drinking.”

“Me, too,” said the man. He turned to the bartender. “I’m supposed to meet someone here.”

“Must be him,” said McAnany, gesturing to Scorpio. “Ain’t no one else been here all day.”

The man approached Scorpio. “Are you the one they call The Scorpion?”

“At your service,” replied Scorpio. “You must be Rand Quintaro.”

Quintaro nodded and extended his hand, then sat down and gestured the woman to sit next to him, which she did. “You could have chosen a more convenient place,” he said.

“This is my office when I’m on Venus,” replied Scorpio.

“I understand you have a partner,” continued Quintaro. “Where is he?”

“He’ll be along.”

“We’ll wait.”

“That’s up to you,” said Scorpio. “Could be a couple of days.”

“He’s on a job?” asked Quintaro.

“It’s confidential. I can’t discuss it.”

The man nodded his head knowingly. McAnany emitted a sarcastic snort, then brought the blue-skinned woman her drink.

“It’s strong!” she breathed after taking a sip.

“I can dilute it,” offered McAnany.

“No,” she said, never taking her eyes off Scorpio. “I like strong.”

“You got a name, lady?”

“It’s Sapphire,” she replied.

“Sapphire what?” asked McAnany.

“Just Sapphire.”

“Pleased to meet you, Just Sapphire,” said Scorpio. He turned back to Quintaro. “You sure you don’t want to talk a little business now?”

Quintaro sighed, and his mustache quivered. “All right. There’s no sense wasting any more time. It took me two months just to decide you and your partner were the men for the job.”

“He’s not exactly a man,” noted Scorpio.

“Anyway, you come highly recommended.”

“I’d ask by who, but you’d probably tell me, and I’d have to lecture you about the company you keep,” said Scorpio with just the trace of a smile.

McAnany looked at a small screen that was hidden behind the bar. “He’s coming!” he announced.

“Your partner?” asked Quintaro.

Scorpio nodded. “I guess he accomplished his mission faster than anticipated.”

Shut up, said a familiar voice inside his head.

A moment later the door opened, and a strange-looking creature entered. He was a dark blue quadruped, perhaps the size of a mastiff. He had four nostrils, two in front, one on each cheek, eyes that seemed to glow even though they were totally shielded from the dim lights, and a tail that ended in such a sharp point that it could very well be used as a weapon. He was covered by a dull curly down, and when he opened his mouth he displayed a double row of coal-black fangs.

“This is Merlin,” announced Scorpio. “He doesn’t talk, but he understands everything you say.”

Quintaro studied Merlin for a moment. “I’ve never seen anything like him,” he said. “What world is he from?”

“This one.”

“Really?”

“Why would I lie to you?” said Scorpio. “Not every planet produces just one sentient race.”

Quintaro stared at Merlin for another moment, then shrugged and turned back to Scorpio. “He won’t be offended if I speak directly to you? I’d feel … awkward … speaking to him.”

I just may bite his foot off.

Practice a little anger management, thought Scorpio. I got the repair estimate on the ship while you were off hunting for ladyfriends, and we need a quick seventy-three thousand mojuri or we’re stuck on this ball of dirt—well, ball of jungle and water.

Seventy-three thousand mojuri? That’s outrageous!

Probably, agreed Scorpio. How much is that in real money?

Twenty thousand credits.

That’s why you’re not biting his foot off.

Yet.

Scorpio turned to Quintaro. “All right—we’re all ears. What exactly are you here about?”

“I want to hire your services,” said Quintaro.

“Which particular services?”

“Whatever’s required. I’ll be honest. I expect to run into some danger in the pursuit of my goal, and I’m told you’re the deadliest man on Venus, now that Cemetery Smith has moved to Titan.”

“Suppose you tell me what goal you’re in pursuit of?” said Scorpio.

Quintaro leaned forward. “Have you ever heard of the Godstone of Venus?”

Scorpio shook his head. “What is it—some kind of gem, or a carving, or what?”

“I don’t know,” answered Quintaro.

Scorpio frowned. “Then what do you want it for?”

“It’s supposed to imbue its possessor with certain mystical powers.”

“You’ve been reading too many bad adventure stories, Mr. Quintaro,” said Scorpio.

“It exists!” insisted Quintaro. “Even if it’s just a stone with no mystical powers, it’s worth a king’s ransom. Men and Venusians have been searching for it for eons.” Suddenly a sly smile crossed his face. “But I’ve got something they didn’t have.”

“Let me guess,” said Scorpio in bored tones. “An ancient treasure map?”

“Even better,” said Quintaro, pointing at Sapphire. “I’ve got her!”

Scorpio turned to look at Sapphire, who hadn’t said a word since commenting on her drink. “What do you think you know?” he asked.

“It was my race that created the Godstone,” she said, “and my race that hid it.”

“What makes you think you can find it no matter who created and hid it?” demanded Scorpio.

“My race is not like yours,” she said. “We are born with a racial memory, back to the very first member of our species that crawled up out of the sea, breathed air, and developed limbs.”

“If every member of your race knows where it is, what makes you think one of them hasn’t found it already?”

“I would know if they had,” said Sapphire.

“Anyway,” said Quintaro, “it’s not necessary that you believe in the stone. Just believe in the money.” He paused. “You just have to lead us to where she knows it is, and I’ll offer you thirty thousand credits for the job, in any currency that’s accepted in the system—half now and half when we find it … or when we reach the location and it’s not there.”

“Thirty thousand buys us for one month maximum,” replied Scorpio.

“It’s a deal.”

We don’t want any part of this, said Merlin wordlessly.

Why not?

He doesn’t have the slightest idea what he’s after. She put him up to this, and that description, vague as it was, of a godstone was planted in his mind by her. I was born on Venus, and I’ve never heard of it. As for him, he plans to kill us and take back the down payment when we reach our destination.

Then read her mind and see if the damned thing really exists.

I can’t.

Scorpio frowned. You never came across a sentient being of any race where you couldn’t read their minds, or at least their emotions.

This one’s different came Merlin’s answer. She looks human, but she’s not—not human, and not a mutation as far as I can tell.

Is she Venusian?

I don’t know.

What do you know about her?

Nothing—and that scares me.

I’ve never seen you afraid of anything before. Now you’re scaring me.

“Well, Scorpion?” said Quintaro.

We need the money, thought Scorpio. And we’ll be on our guard.

What the hell—the breeding season’s ending.

I take that as an agreement.

Yeah, thought Merlin. This really isn’t much of a world once the females are out of heat.

I’m sure they share that conviction.

“All right, Mr. Quintaro,” said Scorpio. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“I assume you paused because you were consulting with your partner?”

Assuage his fears, thought Merlin.

“Yeah.” Scorpio blinked his eyes rapidly and shook his head. “Whenever he’s reading my mind,” he lied, “I feel a kind of buzzing inside my head and I go blank for a moment.”

Quintaro, convinced that his plans and motives remained unknown, relaxed noticeably.

“We’ll start in the morning,” he announced. “I’ve got the transportation we’ll need.”

“Where are you staying?” asked Scorpio.

“We thought we’d spend the night here.”

Scorpio turned to McAnany. “Got a spare room?”

“Got five of ’em,” answered the bartender.

“Well, now you have four,” said Scorpio. He turned back to Quintaro. “Where’s your vehicle?”

“Down the trail a bit,” he answered, gesturing toward the door.

“It had better be a VZ Model 3 or 4,” said Scorpio. “Anything else will sink right into this mud if it’s carrying the four of us plus our gear.”

“It’s a VZ4,” confirmed Quintaro.

“Okay,” said Scorpio. “All that’s left is your down payment.”

Quintaro reached into a pocket, pulled out a wad of thousand-credit notes, peeled off fifteen of them, and pushed them across the table to Scorpio.

Scorpio pocketed the money and turned to Sapphire. “You don’t say much, do you?”

“Not much,” she agreed.

“How did you two meet?”

“It was the strangest damned thing,” said Quintaro. “I was actually getting set to take my leave of this world—I hear they’ve discovered a couple of truly phenomenal diamond pipes on Ganymede, and since I’m a jeweler by trade, I was thinking of going there—”

He’s lying. He’s a gambler, and he’s got a criminal record as long as your arm.

“—when I ran into this lovely lady as I was checking out of my hotel by the Amber City spaceport. We got to talking, found we had a lot in common, and eventually she mentioned the godstone. Well, hell, everyone on Venus has heard about it …”

“Not me,” said Scorpio.

Not him, either—until she planted his interest in his head.

“Well, you’re a transient,” said Quintaro. “People talk about you all over the system. I’ve heard about your exploits on Mars and half a dozen moons. They say you can’t go back to Earth, but I figure that’s either just romantic bullshit or else at least you had a good reason for whatever you did.”

“You don’t have to sell, Mr. Quintaro,” said Scorpio. “I’ve already accepted your offer.”

“Anyway, it’s perfectly understandable that someone who spends so little time here—or anywhere—wouldn’t know about the godstone.”

“Interesting name: godstone,” said Scorpio.

“I find it very evocative. Even if it was worthless, I’d spend this much money just to say I was the guy who found it.”

“Well, I hope we can make you feel you’ve gotten your money’s worth,” said Scorpio. “We’ll be leaving at daybreak, which comes pretty early around here. You might want to grab some sleep.”

“Good idea,” said Quintaro. He got to his feet. “Come, my dear.”

Sapphire stood up with an alien grace, linked her arm in his, and walked to the door.

“Where is our room?” Quintaro asked McAnany.

“Down the corridor, last room on the right,” answered the bartender. “Door’s unlocked. You’re just staying one night. I’ll lock it from here once you’re inside the room, and just open it tomorrow when you’re leaving.”

“Thanks,” said Quintaro. He handed a bill to McAnany. “This ought to cover it.”

“That’ll buy you three rooms,” answered McAnany, “each with a woman in it.” Suddenly he looked embarrassed. “Sorry, Miss Sapphire, ma’am … Just a figure of speech.”

She’d shown no annoyance when he uttered the remark, and she showed no reaction when he apologized. A moment later the couple walked out of the bar and down the corridor, and though they were still arm in arm Scorpio got the feeling that she was leading him. He got up and placed his empty glass on the bar.

“You ever heard of this godstone?” he asked.

McAnany shook his head. “Nope. He makes it sound like you and me are the only ones who haven’t.”

“Yeah,” said Scorpio. “Well, don’t believe everything you hear.” He looked over at Merlin. “You all through making a new generation? We’ve got work to do if we’re heading out in the morning.”

My race has sexual seasons, just like many mammals on your home world. Live with it. At least I’m not chasing a new female on every world we visit like some partners I could mention.

Only because it wouldn’t do you the least bit of good, thought Scorpio. Now, what kind of equipment are we going to need for this foolishness?

It’s only foolish if you consider Quintaro. He thinks he’s looking for a valuable gem, and he intends to kill us when he finds it.

It’s probably just what he hopes it is—something worth a few million on the black market—or even the open market if the government doesn’t claim it as a planetary treasure.

Don’t think about it or him. She is the wild card.

She’s one of the better-looking cards in the deck.

That’s all you can say—or think—after what I’ve told you?

What do you want me to say?

Idiot.

Scorpio reached behind the bar, grabbed a bottle, and filled his glass.

“You look annoyed,” noted McAnany.

“There are two blue creatures in this place,” answered Scorpio. “Quintaro went off with the gorgeous one, and I’m stuck with the ugly one who doesn’t trust anyone, including his partner.”

“If he’s worried about you running off with the money that guy gave you, I can stick it in the safe until you get back,” offered McAnany.

“Bad trade,” muttered Scorpio.

“Trade? What trade?”

“You get fifteen thousand credits, and I get a deserted, beat-up tavern when I get back.”

“You think I’d do that to you?” said McAnany in hurt tones.

“Even Merlin thinks so, and he hates to agree with me.” Scorpio picked up his bottle and began walking to the door. “Unlock my room for me. I got a feeling this is the last night I’m going to be sleeping in a bed for a month.”

Scorpio dragged himself out of bed at sunrise, staggered to the bathroom, and rinsed his face off. He wasn’t thrilled with the smell or taste of Venus’s water, but he remembered all the worlds where water was almost impossible to come by. He considered shaving, decided not to, stuck a trio of fresh outfits into a cloth bag, slung it over his shoulder, strapped on a holster and a modified laser pistol, donned his boots, and walked out into the corridor, almost tripping over Merlin.

Good morning, said the Venusian silently.

I think what I hate most about you is that you never have to sleep, Scorpio replied grumpily.

Right. It’s only saved your life three or four times.

Okay, I’ll find something else to hate about you. Where are our clients—up or still snoring?

They were eating what passes for breakfast in the bar about an hour ago. They’re outside now.

“Why?” said Scorpio aloud. “It’s been pouring for the past month. I can’t imagine it stopped in the last six hours.”

They’ve got all kinds of protective gear. Also, I think they’re probably sitting in the vehicle.

“A car or a boat?”

A little of each, I think.

“And there’s room for all four of us and our gear?” said Scorpio. “This guy’s not a piker.”

Whatever that is.

“Okay, well, we might as well get this show on the road,” said Scorpio, walking down the crushed-rock path with Merlin falling into step behind him. He descended until the ground leveled out, and came to the Venusian version of a safari car, an amphibious vehicle that could negotiate oceans, rivers, streams, muddy jungles, just about every kind of unfriendly landscape the planet could provide.

Scorpio briefly looked up from force of habit, but there was no sun to be seen, nor had there been in many millennia, just incredibly thick cloud cover. He then paused to wipe the rain from his face.

“Good morning, Scorpion,” said Quintaro from where he and Sapphire sat in the back of the vehicle. “I assume you’re doing the driving. That is, unless your partner can …”

“I’ll drive,” answered Scorpio, tossing his bag into the very back. “Nice vehicle.”

“Actually, it belongs to a friend.”

And the friend has issued an arrest warrant against him for stealing it.

You’re surprised? thought Scorpio. He opened a door for Merlin, waited for his partner to find a comfortable position in a vehicle that was never meant for his species.

“Where’s the control?” he asked.

“This is the latest model,” answered Quintaro. “Put your thumb on the pad there … yes, that’s right … and now, as long as you keep your thumb there it’ll follow your orders, whether on land or water. That green button on the side of it will morph it into a boat or whatever else we need.”

Scorpio mentally ordered the vehicle to move forward slowly, down the crushed-stone path leading away from the tavern, and it was soon skimming over the muddy jungle trail.

“Got the hang of it?” asked Quintaro.

“Yeah,” answered Scorpio. “I’ve never driven anything as expensive as one of these VZ4’s, but I’ve piloted ships that responded to mental commands.”

“This is a goddamned vehicle, not a ship,” said Quintaro irritably. “Just remember that.” It was the first time his smooth façade had slipped, and Scorpio wondered why.

He’s scared to death.

Why?

We’re not going for a friendly ride in the park. Most people who go more than a few miles into this jungle don’t come out. That goes for my race, too.

Shit! We didn’t charge him enough.

I told you not to take it.

They’d gone a mile into the jungle when Scorpio saw something moving off to his left … something large. He stopped the vehicle and stared.

“What is it?” asked Quintaro nervously.

“I don’t know. Merlin, has Venus got something black and shaggy about the height of Tritonian lymix, only half again as long?”

It’s a herbivore.

Even herbivores can kill you when they’re that big. We’ll give him a wide berth.

“Well, what does he say?”

“He says yes,” lied Scorpio, partially to see the man’s reaction, but mostly to see if Sapphire would contradict him. He checked her reaction in a small dashboard screen, and saw that she was smiling in amusement.

“Well, as long as we’re going to be cooped up in this thing for a while, perhaps Sapphire will enlighten my partner and me about the history of the godstone.”

Why bother? thought Merlin. If she’s lying, and she probably will be, I won’t be able to tell.

There’s got to be a little truth to it. Maybe, like a famous detective of literature, we can construct the comprehensive whole from some of the disparate parts.

Oh, well, we’ve got nothing better to do.

“Miss Sapphire, ma’am?” said Scorpion.

“It is the greatest treasure on all of Venus,” she replied emotionlessly, as if by rote. “The man who finds it will become wealthy beyond all imagining.”

“What’s it made of?”

“I’m no meteorologist.”

“Neither am I,” said Scorpio. “But if I was spending all this money, and possibly risking my life, I’d sure as hell know what I think it’s made of.”

“Rare stones,” she replied. “Rarer than diamonds, than rubies, than emeralds. Stones that exist nowhere else in the universe.”

Possible? asked Scorpio.

I’m no gemologist. It seems unlikely, except …

Except?

Except why has she taken over Quintaro’s mind, and why is she risking her life by coming along?

“Are there any holographs of it?” asked Scorpio.

“Not to my knowledge,” replied Sapphire.

“Does it show up in any history books?”

“Of course. That’s how I know it exists.”

“Which ones?”

“I can’t remember.”

I don’t have to read her mind to know she’s lying, thought Scorpio.

I still can’t read it. All I get is a feeling of danger.

Let me know when it feels imminent.

You’ll know, replied Merlin with absolute certainty.

They were three days out from the tavern. The rain had diminished but not stopped, and Scorpio was inclined to think of his surroundings as a rainjungle, which in his mind was one step more impenetrable and uncomfortable than a rain forest. Finally they came to a river that didn’t have endless trees poking out of it, and he moved the vehicle onto it, where it floated smoothly and began picking up speed.

Overhead were a variety of avians—mostly bright red and yellow, a few blue, one large one that seemed to prey on the others a rich green, all of them seemingly impervious to the constant rain. There were myriads of water flowers of every imaginable shape and color, each reaching high and opening up its petals to the life-giving rain.

There were a few large beasts in the water. Most ignored them, and the vehicle, now a vessel, easily avoided the others. Scorpio found that he was actually relaxing and enjoying the trip when Sapphire leaned forward.

“Slow down,” she said.

“We’re not going that fast,” he replied.

“Nevertheless,” she said. “We’re going to leave the river and go back on land very soon now.”

Scorpio looked ahead. The trackless jungle bordering the river looked exactly the same as it had for the past fifty miles.

“Are you sure?” he said, frowning.

“Absolutely.”

“I can’t believe this area’s ever been mapped,” he continued. “What makes you think—?”

“Just do it!” she snapped.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her elbow Quintaro.

“Just do what I’m paying you to do and stop bitching,” he said.

“Yes, sir, right away, sir,” said Scorpio.

Subservience doesn’t become you, noted Merlin.

If you’ve got a quicker way to make the twenty grand we need to repair the ship, I’ll punch him out. Otherwise, we play the game.

“Here,” said Sapphire in another half mile.

Scorpio ordered the boat onto a sandy beach, paused until it had morphed back into a vehicle, and began driving it along a narrow animal trail, all the while wondering how Sapphire could know that this particular trail was the one she wanted, even if she’d had some treasure map and committed it to memory. The tides rose; they fell; and what was a trail today might have been an ocean bottom or an empty plain in antiquity, when the map would have been created, if indeed there was a map and a godstone at all.

They proceeded along the trail for three hours. Then, as the sun was starting to set, spreading a soft golden hue through the thick cloud layer, Scorpio brought the vehicle to a sudden stop.

“What is it?” demanded Quintaro, but Scorpio and Merlin, who had a better view of the trail, were out of the car and racing ahead on foot. They reached the object of their attention in seconds and knelt next to a blood-covered, thick-bearded man dressed in tattered rags.

Scorpio was about to pull him off the trail when he realized that there probably wouldn’t be another vehicle along for years, maybe decades, so he decided against moving the wounded man. Instead, he made a very crude pillow out of a stand of weeds and used it to prop up the man’s head, then opened what was left of the man’s shirt and began examining his body for wounds.

“Something with claws has ripped him up pretty badly,” he reported, as Quintaro ran up to them. “I’ve never seen paws on a herbivore, so it’s almost certainly a predator, and that means the claws were probably carrying half a dozen diseases picked up from victims.”

He’s very groggy, and perhaps a bit delusional, said Merlin silently. But something’s very strange here. I mean, other than his being here at all.

What is?

He was ripped to shreds by a predator, but pull what’s left of his shirt off his left shoulder.

Scorpio did so. “Son of a bitch!” he muttered, as the shoulder displayed a fresh laser burn, clearly just a few hours old.

“Let me suggest that whatever ripped him up did so as he was escaping from whoever burned his shoulder,” said Scorpio.

“Makes sense,” said Quintaro. He frowned. “But who else would be in this godforsaken wilderness?”

“Who indeed?” said Sapphire, joining them. Scorpio couldn’t get over the notion that she sounded amused though her expression gave nothing away.

Scorpio examined the man’s body to see where to staunch the bleeding and realized that there were just too many flesh wounds to close them all, or even half of them, before he bled to death.

Merlin, go to my bag and find the strongest stimulant I’ve got in the med kit.

Why waste it? He’s as good as dead.

Let’s see if we can wake him up long enough for him to tell us who the hell did this to him. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to know what areas to avoid.

Merlin took off without sending another thought and was back a moment later with the entire kit.

Why the whole thing?

I don’t know one stimulant from another.

Scorpio opened the kit, pulled out the one he wanted, pulled out a lozenge, and pressed it against the inside of the man’s upper lip, holding it in place for the count of ten. By eight, the man had opened his pain-filled eyes.

“What … where?” he mumbled.

“You’re among friends,” said Scorpio. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

“Some kind of monster ran right through camp … killed about half of us … I got in the way when one of my team took a shot at it … I don’t remember anything after that …”

“What are you—your group—doing out here in the middle of nowhere?” asked Scorpio.

You’re not going to believe it, thought Merlin.

“Looking for …” The man’s voice trailed off. Scorpio thought he had perhaps twenty seconds of life left, but then he looked past Scorpio’s shoulder and tensed. “I’m sorry, Miss Sapphire, ma’am,” he said. “I did my best. I hope you find it.”

All the tension went out of his body then, his eyes rolled back into his head, and Scorpio knew that he was dead.

He laid the man’s body back, stood up, and turned to Sapphire. “What the hell was that all about?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” she replied.

“He knew you, even knew your name and what you’re searching for.”

“He didn’t mention the godstone,” replied Sapphire. “He might have seen me around Amber City, might have heard my name.”

“Bullshit!” snapped Scorpio.

“You’re not thinking of quitting?” demanded Quintaro.

“I’ve got to discuss it with my partner,” said Scorpio. “We’ve been lied to, and I don’t know how or why.”

“We’ll go stand by that tree while you talk,” said Quintaro, taking Sapphire’s arm and starting off through the mud.

“Don’t bother,” said Scorpio. “You can’t hear us wherever you are.”

Well? thought Scorpio.

He wasn’t delusional, replied Merlin. He knew her, knew her name, knew she’s after the godstone. What makes no sense is that, as I say, he wasn’t delusional or delirious.

This whole thing doesn’t make any sense, thought Scorpio.

That’s what’s disturbing.

So do we quit or not?

It’s up to you.

Scorpio considered his options. I say we stay.

The money means that much to you? I mean, we can make it elsewhere. We always manage.

Right now the money’s got nothing to do with it. This is a hell of a mystery, and I don’t plan to spend the rest of my life wondering about it.

Merlin shrugged, a gesture that sent ripples down both of his sides. Okay.

Scorpio turned to Sapphire. “We’ll continue—for now.”

If he expected to see anything—gratitude, arrogance, any change of expression at all—he was disappointed.

“Then let’s get back to the vehicle and get started before it gets bogged down in the mud,” said Quintaro. “If there’s another group hunting for the stone, we don’t want to lose any time.”

Acting or telling the truth? asked Scorpio.

I keep telling you—he’s the dupe, she’s the brain. He hasn’t got enough sense to act, except when it comes to lying about paying us.

“All right,” said Scorpio. “Let’s climb back in.”

“What about him?” asked Quintaro, indicating the dead man.

“There won’t be a bone left by morning,” answered Scorpio. “And if we bury him in this muck, they’ll just dig him up five minutes after we’re gone.”

They reached the vehicle and were soon heading deeper into the jungle, with Sapphire directing Scorpio to make minor course corrections every few miles.

When it was too dark to go any farther, Scorpio tried to decide—as he did every night—whether they’d be safer on land or on the nearby river.

You ask every night, and my answer’s always the same: There’s stuff that can cause you problems either way, replied Merlin when Scorpio queried him.

Scorpio considered his options and decided to remain on the land. If something was going to sneak up and attack, it didn’t make much difference whether it hid in the thick jungle or beneath the surface of the water, but he would feel better defending himself on dry—well, soggy—land.

He tried to find a place where at least they couldn’t be attacked from above, but there was no escaping the huge, towering trees that gave shelter to arboreal predators. Finally he found an area that looked minimally flatter and more protected from the rain, and announced that they were spending the night there.

“Can’t you find something with less bugs, at least?” complained Quintaro.

“Shut up,” said Sapphire, coldly and emotionlessly, and Quintaro immediately fell silent.

The four of them sat in total silence for half an hour. Scorpio was about to drift off to sleep when something nudged his arm. He thought it was Merlin, but when he opened his eyes he found that it was Sapphire.

“Yeah?” he said.

She placed a finger to her lips. “Softly. There’s movement out there. Intelligent movement.”

He stared at her. “You sure it’s not the group our dead friend belonged to—the one with a blue woman named Sapphire?”

She stared at him for a long moment, no emotion crossing her face. Finally she said, “There are seven distinct sentient races on Venus.”

“That we know about,” he answered, staring at her meaningfully.

“The movement out there is directed by intellect,” she continued. “They are not human, and they have never heard of the godstone.”

“Then I say live and let live,” said Scorpio.

“Do not be a fool,” she said. “I would not awaken and warn you if there was no danger. They are creatures that are endemic to the jungle, and they prey on strangers.”

“They must be starving,” said Scorpio, unimpressed. “Nobody wanders through here without a purpose. That can’t afford them much sustenance.”

“They plan to eat you, you and Quintaro—but only after they rob us first.”

“But not you?”

She stared at him for a long moment. “I was mistaken,” she said.

“About what?”

“You are a fool.”

She got up and walked back to where she had been sitting.

Merlin, were you listening?

Well, observing, anyway.

Are these critters really out there, and are they Intelligent?

They’re out there. They’re sentient; I would question “intelligent.”

They plan to attack?

That’s a given.

How did she know?

We’ll worry about that later. Tell Quintaro not to fire his weapon when the fighting starts. He might hit me in the dark.

You need some help?

If I do, I’ll let you know.

Scorpio looked around and saw that Merlin had already departed in what he assumed was the direction of what he now thought of as the enemy. He decided that they needed a term for them—not for their race, of which he was still ignorant—but for their occupation, because given his surroundings “highwayman” seemed ridiculous. There wasn’t a highway within a thousand miles, and except for himself and Quintaro, there weren’t any men within miles.

He considered giving Sapphire a reassuring smile, decided she didn’t need one, and sat perfectly still, trying to pick up any unusual sounds through the driving rain. Nothing happened for almost ten minutes. Then the calm was shattered by a hideous scream. A minute later came another. The area two miles to the east was briefly illuminated by weapons fire, then another scream came to his ears.

Three dead, two running away as fast as they can.

Good! thought Scorpio. What race were they?

Tabolla. They just crossed over the barrier to sentience about two millennia ago. They’re the most primitive of our sentient races.

Okay. Bring back their weapons if they’re any better than ours—

They aren’t.

And I’ll see you in a few minutes.

I’ll be back in the morning. I haven’t eaten in two days.

Did you have to say that? thought Scorpio disgustedly.

Well, you did ask.

Scorpio shut his eyes for a moment, trying to rid himself of the mental image of Merlin eating his enemies—the fact that they were raw didn’t help—and then reopened them and found himself staring at Sapphire, who stared back, unblinking.

“It’s over,” he said. “But you know that, don’t you?”

She offered no answer, and her expression never changed.

“Who the hell are you?” he continued after a moment.

Still no answer.

“Or perhaps I should ask: what are you?”

“Leave her alone,” said Quintaro.

“To quote your blue friend, shut up,” said Scorpio.

Quintaro’s face darkened, and he seemed about to get to his feet, when Sapphire laid a hand lightly on his arm.

“He’s right,” she said coldly. “Shut up.”

The anger didn’t vanish, but he didn’t say another word.

They sat silently, facing each other. Scorpio paid no attention to Quintaro but stared directly at Sapphire. His only observation by the time he fell asleep twenty minutes later was that she never blinked.

Merlin had rejoined them by the time Scorpio awoke. Quintaro was sprawled in a water-resistant one-man tent, snoring, and Sapphire was sitting motionless, her back against a tree trunk, protected from the rain by the overhanging branches, exactly as she’d been when he’d fallen asleep. His first thought was that she had somehow died during the night, but when he got to his feet, she did the same.

“Wake your friend and we’ll be on our way,” said Scorpio.

She stepped on the splayed fingers of Quintaro’s left hand.

“Damn!” he yelled, getting to his knees and shaking the hand vigorously. Then he saw who had been responsible for it, and all anger vanished.

“Five minutes to take care of your morning ablutions,” announced Scorpio. “We’ll eat in the vehicle.”

Why do I detect added tension? asked Merlin. I thought I was the one taking all the risks last night.

You ever see her eat, or sneak off to relieve herself?

No. But I already told you she wasn’t human.

I could fill a book with things she isn’t, replied Scorpio. What the hell is she?

I have no idea.

Was she in any danger last night? Can she even feel pain?

There’s an easy way to find out.

Oh?

You’ll see.

Quintaro returned a couple of minutes later, Scorpio walked off for a few minutes and returned, and the four of them began approaching the vehicle, which was about ten yards away. As they did so, Merlin “accidentally” bumped against Sapphire, and her upper arm made contact with the branch of a thorn-covered bush.

“Merlin apologizes,” said Scorpio quickly.

“Not a problem,” she replied.

“You’re bleeding,” he noted, indicating a pair of dark spots that suddenly appeared at the point of contact.

She looked at her arm, said “Oh,” and continued walking to the vehicle.

Hypothesis, thought Merlin. If you cut her, she bleeds. She just doesn’t feel it or care about it.

They reached the vehicle, climbed into it, and began moving. Scorpio tried to think of the direction as “inland,” but he was so thoroughly lost and so completely surrounded by jungle except for a handful of narrow, winding trails that the whole planet seemed inland from where he was.

“Any idea how much farther we have to go?” he asked Quintaro, on the assumption that there was no sense asking Sapphire.

“Beats me,” he said. He jerked a thumb toward Sapphire. “She’s my map.”

“Has she deigned to tell you what we do when we get there?”

“Pick it up and go home,” answered Quintaro.

“I mean, is it above the ground? Is it in plain sight? Is it guarded, and if so, by who or by what?”

“I don’t know,” said Quintaro. “I just know it’ll put us on easy street for life.”

Is he holding back anything, or maybe out-and-out lying? asked Scorpio.

Nope. View him as one hundred percent dupe.

Why did she choose him, I wonder?

Half the reason’s in your pocket.

After an uneventful three hours, the rain finally became no more than a light drizzle. Scorpio stopped, just to rest his eyes for a few minutes. Quintaro got out to stretch his legs, as did Merlin, who found the vehicle especially unsuited to a member of his race.

“How’s your arm?” Scorpio asked Sapphire, who had remained seated.

“It’s fine,” she replied. “But you knew that.”

“We could talk about all the things I don’t know instead,” offered Scorpio. “Quantum mechanics, ancient Mercurian pottery, godstones …”

“You know what you need to know,” said Sapphire.

“I hope you don’t think I want the damned thing for myself,” said Scorpio. “If I did, I wouldn’t be driving you to it.”

“That is not a satisfactory answer, Mr. Scorpio.”

“Oh?”

“Mr. Quintaro and I are in your power. He is a fool, as well you know.”

“And you are …?”

“A weak, helpless woman,” she answered.

“That may be a record,” said Scorpio, smiling at her. “Three lies in a four-word sentence.”

She did not return his smile, but she took no offense, and indeed didn’t react at all.

“So what does a godstone do?” continued Scorpio.

She stared at him and did not answer.

“You said it was worth more than diamonds. Forgive my ignorance, but what is worth more than diamonds?”

Silence.

“How long have you been looking for it?”

No answer.

“A year? Three years?” A pause. “Ten thousand years?”

No reaction, and no answer.

“Sooner or later, we really have to have a little talk,” said Scorpio. “A two-sided talk. I’m sure you think my partner and I are expendable, just as I know you think Quintaro is. Leaving aside whether Merlin and I can take care of ourselves, if there is a godstone, whatever the hell that means, is Venus expendable?”

“Venus is my home,” she said in cold, flat, emotionless tones.

“So you can answer when you want to.”

She stared at him and offered no reply.

“What makes you want to?” he asked. “For example, how about an identical blue woman named Sapphire who is leading an expedition that’s looking for something called—you’ll never believe this—a godstone? You think that might be an interesting topic of conversation?”

“Try not to be as big a fool as Quintaro.”

“You sure know how to hurt a guy,” said Scorpio.

“Yes, I do,” replied Sapphire. “You would do well to remember that.”

“It’s never far from my mind,” he assured her. “One last question.”

“Good.”

“For this conversation,” he qualified. He stared at her. “Did you pick us, or did Quintaro?” He held up a hand. “Before you say it was him, I know who approached us and made the offer. But was it his idea or yours?”

“He has no ideas,” said Sapphire.

“All right,” said Scorpio. “Then let me ask you: why us?”

“He told you why. You are said to be the most lethal man on the planet, and even I do not know who or what will be guarding the godstone.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “Okay,” he said at last. “We’ll talk again later.”

She neither confirmed nor contradicted him but merely stared at him. Or through him, he decided.

He climbed out of the vehicle, walked around for a few moments to get a little life back into his legs, then joined Merlin, who was staring at some large golden fish in a stream.

“You’re hungry after everything—or everyone—that you ate last night?” he asked with a smile.

No, I just like their colors, and the patterns they make when the light hits them through the water.

Our blue-skinned passenger thinks we’re going to run into some trouble when we finally reach the godstone.

I know. I see the conversation in your mind.

What do you think? asked Scorpio. We’re just pawns in whatever game she’s playing. We could steal the vehicle right now, strand them here, and go back to McAnany’s tavern. Quintaro probably won’t last a day, but somehow I think it would only prove a minor inconvenience to her.

I think we don’t want to be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives.

“Okay,” said Scorpio aloud. “It was just a suggestion. Let’s get back to the vehicle.”

He called to Quintaro, and a few moments later the vehicle was making its way along the muddy trail.

They came to the first fork they’d encountered in almost two days, and Sapphire directed Scorpio to keep to the left. He did so, and soon the road began winding downhill. By nightfall, they were running alongside a major river, perhaps two miles across. The rain returned with a vengeance, and they spent the night inside the vehicle, doing their best to ignore the thunder and the discomfort.

At dawn, they began again, but within a mile the trail had totally washed away, and Sapphire directed Scorpio to take the amphibious vehicle into the river, which paralleled the trail for quite a few miles, and simply keep to the water until the trail was passable again.

“I hate all this water!” complained Quintaro.

“Be glad you have it,” replied Scorpio, plunging the vehicle into the river as it morphed into a boat.

“Be glad of this?”

“Comes from the clouds,” said Scorpio. “No clouds, no rain—but also no clouds and this is a desert world too hot for anything to live on it.”

“They live on Mercury, don’t they?” said Quintaro irritably.

“Not on the sunward side, they don’t,” replied Scorpio. “They stick to the terminator zone and the dark side.”

“You’ve been there, I presume?” said Quintaro dubiously.

“A couple of times,” Scorpio confirmed. “Not my favorite place.”

“Scorpion!” said Sapphire suddenly. “Hard left!”

Scorpio instantly did as she ordered and saw a huge creature, about the size of a humpback whale, far more reptilian than fish or mammal, suddenly surface where they had been, pluck three low-flying avians out of the sky in its gaping jaws, then vanish beneath the water again.

“I’ve seen stuff like that in the ocean!” remarked Quintaro. “But inland, in a river?”

“This isn’t like Earth,” explained Scorpio. “It’s all freshwater, and every creature that lives in the one can swim in the other.”

“God, I hate this world!” snapped Quintaro.

“Then what are you doing here?”

Quintaro made a face. “Looking for action. I’d been hearing about baxitla—that’s the Venusian card game—for years, so I thought I might as well give it a try.” A smug smile. “Did okay, too. You cost me less than one night’s winnings. And I met her”—he jerked a thumb in Sapphire’s direction—“and once we get our hands on the godstone, I plan to open my own casino in Marsport.”

Just what Marsport needs, thought Scorpio. An eighty-fourth casino—or is it the eighty-fifth?

It’s all academic, answered Merlin. However this ends up, you don’t think he’s going make any money, do you?

Scorpio gave the creature five minutes to get sufficiently downstream, then guided the VZ4 back to the center of the river.

They proceeded for another seven miles, then he decided that the trail was safe enough to handle the vehicle, so he ordered the wheels to emerge, withdrew the rudder into the interior, and was soon traversing the jungle road once more.

“How’s this thing fixed for fuel?” asked Quintaro. “I haven’t noticed you refreshing the pile or whatever the hell it runs on since we started.”

“It’s got a series of atomic batteries,” answered Scorpio. “We started with a dozen, and we’ve drained two of them and are on our third.” He paused, then added with a smile, “It’s your vehicle. I figure you’d have asked the salesman.”

“Took it right out of the showroom,” answered Quintaro smoothly. Then: “Will we have enough to get back?”

“Depends on where we’re going,” said Scorpio. “Ask your ladyfriend.”

Which ended the conversation.

The rain increased as night fell, the trees weren’t clustered enough or carrying enough foliage to provide sufficient shelter, and they slept in the vehicle once more. Merlin was gone when Scorpio awoke, but that wasn’t unusual. The Venusian was out hunting for a meal, and he’d be back when he’d killed and eaten it.

“Does it ever cool off?” muttered Quintaro as he climbed out of the vehicle and went off toward a cluster of trees.

“Sure,” said Scorpio. “As soon as the rain stops.”

Quintaro glared at him, then disappeared behind the trees.

“We’re alone again,” noted Scorpio. “Care to continue our conversation?”

No answer.

“May I take your silence as an affirmative?”

“Does that pass for wit on Earth?” she asked coldly.

“Haven’t you been there?”

She stared at him without speaking.

“I hope to hell this damned stone exists, and it’s everything you think it is.”

“It exists,” she said with absolute certainty.

“With a name like ‘godstone’ it must be part of some religion,” he continued.

She remained silent.

“You might tell me a little something about it, including where you think it is. I’d hate to have the other Dragon Lady get there first.”

She gave him a contemptuous glare, then got out of the vehicle, walked to the far side of the clearing, and raised her unblinking face to the sky, oblivious of the rain cascading down.

“Come on back!” he said, half shouting to be heard over the rain. “I won’t ask any more questions.” This morning, he added mentally.

She stood motionless for a full minute. He sat where he was, watching her, thinking that under other circumstances he could admire a figure like that all day, especially the way the water made her outfit cling to it, but all he could do was wonder what was going on inside that head.

Finally, she returned to the vehicle just as Quintaro reappeared. Then it was simply a matter of waiting for Merlin.

When he hadn’t shown up for another half hour, Scorpio got out of the vehicle. He couldn’t search for tracks—they were washing away almost as fast as they were made, and besides, Merlin’s had probably been made hours ago, but he felt he had to do something, even if just get wet. He heard chattering in the branches above him, looked up, and saw a family of monkeylike bipeds huddled against the rain. They didn’t have tails like the monkeys of Earth did, but growing out of each wrist was not only a hand but a long, thin tentacle that functioned like a tail, wrapping around limbs to secure the owner’s position.

After another few minutes a thought reached him.

Stop standing in the rain, you idiot, and get the med kit ready. I’ll be there in another minute.

Scorpio rushed around to the back of the vehicle, opened it up, and got the kit. As he did so, Merlin broke through the foliage and came into view, limping painfully across the small clearing.

“What the hell happened to you?” said Scorpio. “You need help getting into the vehicle?”

No, I can make it, thought Merlin, and proved it by jumping up into it, emitting a pained grunt. I can’t reach my wounds. Rub some antiseptic and painkiller on them.

Scorpio applied the proper medications. “I take it breakfast fought back?” he said as he rubbed them in.

No. There’s another safari out here.

A safari?

I don’t know what else you’d call it.

They can’t be on foot?

No, they’re in a pair of vehicles. There are only four of them left—well, three now. One of the men took a shot at me—probably thought I was dinner. He did me some damage, as you can see. When he knew I was hit, he left the vehicle and came after me.

You killed him, of course, thought Scorpio.

Of course.

I wonder what the devil they’re hunting for this far from what passes for civilization?

I thought you’d never ask, replied Merlin. They’re after the godstone—and they’ve got a blue-skinned lady guiding them.

Oh, shit! Scorpio paused for a moment. Is this the same group as the guy we found a couple of days ago?

Probably.

Probably?

He died before I could find out.

How far are they from us?

Maybe four miles west. Five at the outside.

Okay, try to get some rest.

Scorpio closed and latched the back, then walked around and climbed onto his seat.

“Is he all right?” asked Quintaro without much interest.

“He’s a hard one to kill,” answered Scorpio. He turned to face Sapphire. “Mind if I ask you a question or two?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Live with it,” he said. “My first question: have you got a sister?”

She didn’t answer, but he thought he could see the muscles in her face suddenly become tense.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ve got another one, and this time I’m going to insist on an answer.”

“Leave her alone!” snapped Quintaro.

“Be quiet,” said Scorpio. “This doesn’t concern you.” He turned back to Sapphire. “Are we in a race?”

“No,” she said.

“You’re sure?”

She merely stared at him.

You might as well proceed, thought Merlin. You can’t turn back, not now that you’ve as much as told her we’re within walking distance of her double’s safari.

You really think she can stop us or do us harm if we do turn back?

I’m incapacitated, and you’re in no more danger going forward than going back to the tavern against her wishes.

Shit! I hate it when you make sense.

Scorpio put the vehicle in gear and began proceeding once again along the muddy trail.

They traveled for two more hours, and suddenly Scorpio could see another river—or an equally broad branch of the river he was paralleling—sweeping toward them from his right. He brought the vehicle to a halt and turned once again to Sapphire.

“All right,” he said. “Either I’m going to have to cross the river at some point in the next couple of miles, or I’m going to turn to the right, but even then we’re going to be confronted by another river. So which way do you want me to go?”

“Straight,” she said.

“You’re sure?”

She merely stared at him. He shrugged and began moving forward again. The forest began thinning out, and suddenly he came to a valley that was almost devoid of trees, and again he stopped.

“What now?” demanded Quintaro.

“That ground looks awfully soft,” replied Scorpio. “I know this is a VZ4, but I don’t know if even it has enough muscle to get us out of there if we bog down.”

“It’s not there,” said Sapphire.

“What’s not there?” asked Scorpio, surprised that she’d offered an unsolicited comment.

“What I want,” she replied. “Go around it.”

“Okay.”

“To the right,” she added.

“You sure?” he said. “If Merlin’s correct, that’s the direction your kid sister’s coming from.”

“Shut up,” she said, and turned to look out over the landscape.

Scorpio followed her instructions, found a long-unused path—he hesitated to call it even a trail—and began carefully moving along it.

How are you doing back there? he asked.

I’ll live, answered Merlin. Or if I don’t, it won’t be the wounds that kill me. We’re getting close.

We’re getting close to the guys that tried to kill you. I don’t know that we’re getting close to the godstone.

I still can’t read her mind, but she’s getting so excited the whole vehicle reeks of it.

It does?

Well, it does if you’re a Venusian.

Scorpio kept to the path. In about a mile it widened, and suddenly the rain completely stopped. One minute it was pouring as it had been doing for months, and one minute it was like a dry summer day on Earth.

“What happened to the rain?” asked Quintaro. “It’s like there’s an invisible wall, and nothing’s falling on this side of it.”

“I don’t know,” replied Scorpio. He glanced at Sapphire. “One of us doesn’t seem surprised.”

She offered no reply, as he had known she wouldn’t, and he continued moving forward. The path, which was once again a trail, remained thoroughly muddy.

That’s damned strange, he thought.

What is?

The rain’s stopped. Yet the trail’s as muddy as if it has been pouring for weeks, right up to a minute ago.

I have no answer.

I’ll settle for a guess. I don’t feel good about this.

Scorpio waited for a comment from anyone, even Quintaro. When none was forthcoming, he sent the vehicle forward. He proceeded for three hundred yards, then four, then five—and then he heard it, like the loudest kind of thunder, but it was coming from ahead and below, not above.

“What the hell is that?” demanded Quintaro nervously.

“A waterfall,” said Scorpio. “Like it or not, this is the end of the line.”

“Not quite,” said Sapphire. “Keep going.”

“Those falls can’t be a mile away,” protested Scorpio. “Just where the hell do you want me to go?”

“I’ll tell you when to stop,” she said.

What do you think?

You might as well, answered Merlin. One way or another we’re going to her destination. Why walk?

Scorpio began moving the vehicle very slowly. He’d gone another quarter mile when two slightly older, less elegant, mud-covered vehicles came into sight off to his right.

Quintaro pulled a pulse gun out of his pocket and started to take aim when Sapphire brought the edge of her hand down on his wrist, so hard that Scorpio could hear the bone crack even over Quintaro’s scream of pain.

“You goddamned bitch!” he bellowed. “I’m trying to protect our fucking interest!”

“You don’t even know what our interest is,” she replied, her voice thick with contempt.

“I know what mine is,” he snarled, “and no one’s going to double-cross me!”

He turned and took a swing at her with his uninjured hand. Scorpio didn’t see what happened next, but an instant later Quintaro collapsed, unconscious, on the floor of the vehicle.

Suddenly, Sapphire reached forward and handed Scorpio a wad of bills. “Here is what he owed you,” she said. “You know, of course, that he had no intention of ever paying it.”

“I know,” said Scorpio, pocketing the cash.

“He is of no further use to us,” she continued. “Stop the vehicle.”

Scorpio came to a stop, and she opened a door and shoved Quintaro’s body out into the mud.

“Is he dead or alive?” asked Scorpio.

“One or the other,” said Sapphire. “Now proceed.”

“To where?”

“Do you see that tall skeleton of a dead tree ahead of us?”

“Hard to miss. First dead tree I’ve seen since we started.”

“That is our destination.”

“We’ve come all this way for a barren tree?” said Scorpio.

“Do not appear a bigger fool than I think you to be,” replied Sapphire.

“Are we trying to beat the other party to it?”

“It makes no difference, for they are the same.”

Scorpio frowned. Does that make any sense to you?

None.

Scorpio drove to within fifty feet on the tree and came to a stop. He and Sapphire got out immediately, and he walked around the back, unlatched it, and helped Merlin to the ground. The Venusian was still unsteady on his feet, but he walked by his partner’s side, trying his best to ignore his pain.

The two other vehicles had stopped also, and Scorpio observed them closely, waiting to see just how much this other blue-skinned woman resembled Sapphire—but when she emerged from the second vehicle, he stared, blinked, rubbed his eyes, and stared again.

They could be twins! he thought.

Or somehow even closer, answered Merlin.

“There will be protections, of course,” said Sapphire.

The woman Scorpio now thought of as The Other Sapphire uttered a terse command, and two men who had been driving the vehicles walked cautiously toward the tree, weapons in hand. When they got within five feet of it there was a sound of static and both men collapsed, one screaming, one unconscious or dead.

“Now it is our turn,” said Sapphire.

“I’m not going to walk right up to it,” answered Scorpio. “I just saw what happens to men who do that.”

“Nevertheless.”

“It might help if you tell me what I’m looking for.”

“You already know,” she said.

“Is the tree the godstone?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what is it, where is it, and what does it look like?”

“The stone is irregularly shaped, perhaps a foot in width. Do you see that hole at the base of the tree?”

“Yeah. Looks like some animal has burrowed in.”

“Eons ago, one probably did. But now that is where the godstone is. You will approach on hands and knees, hopefully below the tree’s ability to see or detect you, and bring it back.”

“That’s suicidal,” said Scorpio.

“Perhaps not.”

“I’ll prove it to you,” he said. He reached into the vehicle, pulled out Quintaro’s pulse gun from where it had fallen, bent over, and hurled it sidearm at the hole. It was never more than eighteen inches above the ground—and it burst into flame when it was within three feet of the tree. Scorpio straightened up. “Like I said, suicide.”

“It must be retrieved,” she said, and for the first time he detected a trace—more than a trace—of emotion in her voice.

“Oh, Merlin and I can get it for you,” said Scorpio. “I’m just trying to come up with a price.”

“You’ve been paid.”

“I’ve been paid for taking you here. Risking our lives to retrieve a protected treasure wasn’t part of the bargain.”

“You will get it now!” she demanded, her face suddenly a mask of fury.

“I’m thinking,” he said. “I’d ask for this vehicle, which would certainly bring a healthy price once we clean it up, but we both know it’s stolen property. And something tells me that you’re not going to share the godstone with me, no matter what you promise. You’re really not in a very good bargaining position, Blue Lady.”

“I can kill you right now,” she said. “You know that, don’t you?”

“I’m a little harder to kill than you think,” said Scorpio. “But even if you can, you’d better be sure you know how to get the stone without me.”

She glared hatefully at him but said nothing.

“Okay,” he said after a moment’s consideration. “There’s got to be a black-market dealer who’s not too fussy and has a market for a VZ4. I’ll take the vehicle once we’re done here. Do we have an agreement?”

She nodded.

“All right.” He pulled out his laser pistol and aimed a beam right at the tree trunk, about ten feet above the ground.

“What are you doing?” demanded Sapphire.

“It’ll take a lot more than this to melt a stone,” said Scorpio. As the trunk began smoldering, then burst into flame, he trained his beam on a low-hanging branch. “Damned good thing it’s not raining here. No way I could set it on fire if it were.” He turned to Sapphire. “Somebody on your side has a hell of a lot of powers but very little brain.”

In seconds, the branch was aflame, and Scorpio trained his weapon on another branch. As he did so he leaned down, picked up a heavy stick, and hurled it at the opening. Nothing happened, except that the stick bounced off the trunk.

“Okay, Merlin,” he said. “In and out quick. I don’t know when this damned tree might collapse.”

The Venusian limped ahead, reached the tree, inserted his head and neck into the opening, and emerged a moment later with an irregularly shaped crystal in his mouth.

“The stone!” breathed Sapphire.

And suddenly Scorpio became aware of the other blue woman racing forward, an ecstatic expression on her face, the mirror image of Sapphire’s. At first he thought she was intending to stop at Sapphire’s side. Then he realized that she was heading straight at Sapphire, probably to give her a hug of shared triumph. But finally he saw that she wasn’t slowing down, and that Sapphire had turned to face her and was making no effort to avoid the collision—except that there wasn’t a collision at all. He couldn’t tell which of them absorbed the other, or if both had somehow formed halves of a totally new body, but suddenly there was just one female—he hesitated to think of her as a woman—standing before him.

She took the stone from Merlin and held it up. Scorpio noticed that there was an irregularly shaped hole in it, maybe two inches across, very near the center.

Sapphire began uttering a chant, not quite singing it but more than merely reciting it.

You recognize the language? asked Scorpio.

I know every tongue in current use on Venus, but I’ve never heard this one before.

Suddenly, the stone became brighter, then brighter still, and finally blindingly bright. Scorpio had to close his eyes, and though he was standing right next to it, he couldn’t feel any additional heat.

Then a powerful masculine voice broke the silence.

“At last!” it bellowed. “At last I live again!”

Scorpio opened one eye, expecting to be blinded again. Instead he saw a huge blue man, twelve feet tall, burly and heavily muscled, sporting a thick beard, and clad in a glittering robe that seemed to be a softer, pliable version of the stone.

“A thousand times a thousand years I have waited for the day I always knew would come!”

He reached out and enclosed Sapphire’s extended hand in his powerful fingers. As he made physical contact with her, as their hands touched, both of them became as bright as the stone had been a moment ago, and they began growing until they soon were taller than the tallest of the surrounding trees. He spoke once more, his voice as loud as a thunderclap: “I am complete again!”

Scorpio tried to watch them, but again his eyes could not stand the brightness, and he had to close them. He kept them closed for almost a minute, then he suddenly sensed that the brightness had dissipated.

He opened his eyes, as did Merlin, and found that they were alone, that there was no trace of either Sapphire or the being—he couldn’t help thinking of it as a god—that had been imprisoned in the stone.

He suddenly remembered the stone, leaned down, and picked it up.

The hole is gone, observed Merlin.

I know, answered Scorpio silently. He’s complete again.

Scorpio carried the stone to his vehicle and placed it on a cushioned seat.

Pity to leave the other two vehicles behind, but hot or not, the VZ₄ is worth more than both of them put together. Let’s head back to McAnany’s tavern, and get those repairs made to the ship.

And the stone?

I think we’ll keep it as a souvenir, replied Scorpio. After all, how many bona fide gods and goddesses do we plan to meet in the future? He helped Merlin into the vehicle, climbed in himself, and began heading back the way they’d come. Now let’s get the hell off of Venus as quick as we can. He increased the speed.

Why so fast? asked Merlin.

I’m not a practitioner of any religion, and I like it that way.

What’s that got to do with anything?

Scorpio shrugged. “Maybe nothing,” he said aloud. “But we’ve just turned a god loose on the world, and I don’t think he plans on going back into retirement anytime soon.”