Frederik Pohl - The Cool War

Hake rubbed his chin. “Well— Will you help me get Leota out of the harem?”

“Certainly not. Have you not understood that my brother and I are not amateurs, or patriots? We have no client for this.”

“I’ll be your client. I’ll give you information—for a starter, I’ll tell you about the mission I’m on now. It’s big. It involves at least twenty Team personnel—”

“In A1 Halwani, yes, to sabotage the solar power installation,” Reddi nodded. He paused, watching Alys carefully as she came out of the bathroom. She was holding a glass of instant coffee for Hake, a towel wrapped around it to save her fingers from the heat. When Reddi was sure there were no surprises in the towel, he said, “I have no client for that either, Hake. It does not interest me.”

“I didn’t know you knew about that,” said Hake, dampened. “But it’s got to be pretty valuable. I have a map of it—I can get plans, even bring you with me, maybe. Surely you could sell the secrets to somebody.”

The Indian looked at him incredulously. “If I wished to do that, why would I go so far? And we still have no client.”

Alys said suddenly, “Horny offered to be your client.”

“Do not interrupt unless you can say something intelligent, Miz Brant. How would he pay?”

“He can get money out of the computer system. Lots of it. Can’t you, Horny?”

“Sure I can, Reddi. I’ll give you a—a hundred thousand dollars!”

Reddi crossed to a chair by the bed and sat down, the gun now in his lap. “That at least is a new idea. Perhaps it is worth discussing.” He sat silently for a moment, then produced an envelope from his pocket and tossed it to Hake. “Here,” he said. “I will go this far for you now.”

The envelope contained three photographs of a woman in harem dress and face-veil. It was Leota!

Although the thing Hake most remembered about Leota was that she was a different woman every time he saw her, this was a new variety of different. She wore gold arm-bangles, tight vest and baggy, gauze pants, and she seemed to be wearing curiously patterned stockings beneath the pants. Two of the pictures showed her getting out of a huge old gasoline-burning Rolls-Royce, one of them in heated argument with a black, liveried driver who carried a dagger. The third— Hake studied it carefully. It showed Leota sitting at a table with another woman, and behind them was a familiar window opening on a rooftop view. “That’s right here in the hotel!” he cried.

Reddi nodded. “I too found it amusing that she was here, while you were looking for her all over town. I took it this afternoon. She comes here sometimes for tea.”

“You mean she can get out?”

The Indian said, “Do not assume that means she is free, Hake. There are bodyguards always. And the bracelet on her left arm is a radio. Because of it she can be traced at any time, and they listen to her conversations. However,” he went on, “I permitted her to see me. She is therefore alert, in the event that I elect to assist you in this.”

“The price is a hundred thousand dollars,” said Hake.

“Oh, at least that,” the Indian said, studying Hake. After a moment he said, “You are puzzling, Hake. You have become a great deal more sophisticated since Munich. You miss much that is obvious—for example, you must have seen the solar facility that Sheik Hassabou is constructing here as you flew in, but you did not recognize what you saw. But you are using your government’s facilities for purposes of your own, and on no small scale, either. This implies to me that you have a means for breaking computer net security. I will have to talk to my brother but— Yes, that would be worth something to us, Hake.”

Hake glanced at Alys, and picked his words carefully. “Supposing,” he said, “that I could tell you where to find the code words and programs to break into the Team computer net and help you, ah, steal them.”

“You cannot give them to me yourself?”

“I don’t have them. But Yosper and Curmudgeon do, and they’ll be in A1 Halwani.”

Reddi rubbed his right hand along the barrel of his gun contemplatively. “I think,” he said, “that you are lying to me.”

“No! Why would I do that? Talk it over with your brother, we can make a deal.”

“Oh, I will talk to him, Hake. But now I want both of you to lie face-down on the bed.”

The hairs at the back of Hake’s neck prickled erect “Listen, Reddi—”

“Now.”

Hake set the coffee down and, unwillingly, joined Alys on the bed. They heard Reddi move across the room. The light went off. The door opened and closed.

Alys sat up immediately. “Horny, what the hell are you doing, lying to that man? You trying to get us killed?”

Hake breathed hard for a moment, trying to accept the fact that they were both still alive. He said, “I’m trying to prevent it. Figure it out, Alys. Suppose I gave him the code words and cards and told him my thumbprint opens a channel. What do you suppose he’d do after he got them?”

“Why—if he’d made a bargain with us—”

Hake shook his head. “He wouldn’t have anything more to gain. He’d take off with the cards and the codes—and my thumb.”

“Horny! He wouldn’t!”

“He would. Go to sleep, Alys. We’re going to need our rest, because we’re going to have to do this alone.”

But he slept poorly. Twice he woke up to the sounds of distant sirens and what sounded like fire-engine hooters, and the second time thought he heard the patter of rain against their window. Rain! Of course not. It was still dark, and he forced himself to keep his eyes closed.

Until Alys whispered softly in his ear, “Horny? Horny. Wake up and tell me what’s going on.”

It was barely first light. She was pointing to the window, which seemed to be covered with great oily drops of blackness. The sirens were still going, and a distant /iee-haw hooting that sounded like an air-raid alarm. He got up and approached the window.

The oily raindrops were not drops of water. They were insects. Hundreds of them, rattling against the window and dropping to the little ledge below. All the ornamental plantings on the window were covered with them, the flowers invisible under a hundred insect bodies apiece, the stems bending to the dirt beneath their weight “Locusts,” breathed Hake.

“How awful,” said Alys, fascinated. “Are those the same ones we flew over?”

“I expect so.” She was standing beside him, shivering with excitement. Looking out the window was like looking through one of those snowflake paperweights, except that the flakes were dark browny-green. They drowned the desert view with their bodies. Hake could see the buildings across the street and, dimly, a minaret a few hundred yards away. Beyond that, nothing, only the millions and billions of insects.

Out in the hall the hotel’s piped-music speakers were muttering in several languages. Hake opened the door. Alys listened and said, “It’s French. Something about the main body of locusts being on the radar—two kilometers north, approaching at twenty kilometers an hour. But if this isn’t the main body, what is it?”

“Don’t ask me. We never had locusts on the kibbutz.”

The speaker rattled, and began again. This time it was in English. “Gentlemen and ladies, we call your attention to the swarm of locusts. They are in no way harmful or dangerous to our guests, but for your own comfort you will please wish to remain inside the hotel. The main swarm is approximately one mile away, and will be here in some five to ten minutes. We regret that there may be some interruptions in serving you this morning, due to the necessity of employing staff in protecting our premises against the insects.”