honor, the elf spun on his heel and strode back to the seancing court. He laid a hand on Mizar’s arm. A moment later Rigel arrived, spoke his name for the benefit of the others, and connected to the seance by grasping Fomalhaut’s shoulder.
As soon as he closed his eyes he was back on Earth, hurtling along a street roaring with busy traffic, a disembodied and invisible presence flying just above head height. Mizar, who was directing this trip, was following a black SUV, which slowed for a green light, then swung around to make a dangerous left turn through a gap in the oncoming traffic. The move caught Mizar by surprise, so the perspective wavered unsteadily, passing through a furniture van—whose interior was predictably dark—before speeding forward to catch the disappearing quarry.
Rigel heard Izar say, “Wow!” as if from very far away, barely audible over the sound of traffic.
“About time you got here, halfling!” That was the queen. “Identify this location.”
Rigel knew he was deep in the skunk pen when she called him that. He looked up at the buildings whizzing by and then over at the street signs. It was early on a hot summer morning, and the road reeked of exhaust fumes. There was a plane coming in overhead.
“It’s Calgary,” he said, “where Izar and I were yesterday. Heading east. If you’re following some members of the Family, I’d guess that they’re skipping town. I wonder why they didn’t leave right after the art gallery disaster.”
“They had some business to tidy up,” Talitha said angrily. “Tell us where they’re going.”
“Back to Saskatchewan, likely. If they were staking out Avior as bait for me, their headquarters must be in or near Regina. That’s the city where she lived. When she brought her work to the show in Calgary, they would have followed. Or at least some of them would have.”
There was silence for a while. The road widened as it emerged from the older section of town, beginning to look more like a highway. A turnoff sign to the Deerfoot Trail confirmed Rigel’s identification of the route, if not necessarily the destination.
“Mintaka’s the passenger,” Talitha said. “I don’t know the driver. Pull right inside and let Izar have a look at her.”
The SUV had sped up and was passing all other traffic, weaving in and out. Mizar tracked it closely, and Rigel found the effect dizzying. He wondered if starfolk were immune to motion sickness.
“First,” he said, “can you give us a look backward, please, starborn?”
The mage ignored the halfling’s request. The point of view continued to race after the SUV, moving steadily closer to its back window.
“Why do you want that?” Talitha demanded.
“Because I think I can hear a siren. The Mounties are…” No, this was still inside city limits, so the Mounties might be assembling somewhere ahead, outside the city. “The police may be after them.”
“Worse!” the queen said. “Much worse. Show us, mage.”
“What Your Majesty requests is not easy,” Fomalhaut muttered, and the scene lurched and spun several times before Mizar had them racing backward along the highway. Even then, the ground sloped sharply to the left.
Yes, there were flashing lights in the distance. “They won’t give chase,” Rigel said. “It’s too dangerous. They’ll radio ahead and close the highway. What have they done—the halflings, I mean—to get the cops on their tail?”
Silence. Seancing Earth was legal, unlike actually extroverting there, because seancers could do nothing to influence events or make themselves known. As genuine reality TV, it was a popular pastime with some starborn but that didn’t mean they always understood everything they saw. The scene twisted around to a forward view again, but the fugitives had drawn a long way ahead. Mizar jumped the view a kilometer or so and started to close in on them again.
“What have they got in the vehicle, then?” Rigel asked.
“Guns,”
As soon as he closed his eyes he was back on Earth, hurtling along a street roaring with busy traffic, a disembodied and invisible presence flying just above head height. Mizar, who was directing this trip, was following a black SUV, which slowed for a green light, then swung around to make a dangerous left turn through a gap in the oncoming traffic. The move caught Mizar by surprise, so the perspective wavered unsteadily, passing through a furniture van—whose interior was predictably dark—before speeding forward to catch the disappearing quarry.
Rigel heard Izar say, “Wow!” as if from very far away, barely audible over the sound of traffic.
“About time you got here, halfling!” That was the queen. “Identify this location.”
Rigel knew he was deep in the skunk pen when she called him that. He looked up at the buildings whizzing by and then over at the street signs. It was early on a hot summer morning, and the road reeked of exhaust fumes. There was a plane coming in overhead.
“It’s Calgary,” he said, “where Izar and I were yesterday. Heading east. If you’re following some members of the Family, I’d guess that they’re skipping town. I wonder why they didn’t leave right after the art gallery disaster.”
“They had some business to tidy up,” Talitha said angrily. “Tell us where they’re going.”
“Back to Saskatchewan, likely. If they were staking out Avior as bait for me, their headquarters must be in or near Regina. That’s the city where she lived. When she brought her work to the show in Calgary, they would have followed. Or at least some of them would have.”
There was silence for a while. The road widened as it emerged from the older section of town, beginning to look more like a highway. A turnoff sign to the Deerfoot Trail confirmed Rigel’s identification of the route, if not necessarily the destination.
“Mintaka’s the passenger,” Talitha said. “I don’t know the driver. Pull right inside and let Izar have a look at her.”
The SUV had sped up and was passing all other traffic, weaving in and out. Mizar tracked it closely, and Rigel found the effect dizzying. He wondered if starfolk were immune to motion sickness.
“First,” he said, “can you give us a look backward, please, starborn?”
The mage ignored the halfling’s request. The point of view continued to race after the SUV, moving steadily closer to its back window.
“Why do you want that?” Talitha demanded.
“Because I think I can hear a siren. The Mounties are…” No, this was still inside city limits, so the Mounties might be assembling somewhere ahead, outside the city. “The police may be after them.”
“Worse!” the queen said. “Much worse. Show us, mage.”
“What Your Majesty requests is not easy,” Fomalhaut muttered, and the scene lurched and spun several times before Mizar had them racing backward along the highway. Even then, the ground sloped sharply to the left.
Yes, there were flashing lights in the distance. “They won’t give chase,” Rigel said. “It’s too dangerous. They’ll radio ahead and close the highway. What have they done—the halflings, I mean—to get the cops on their tail?”
Silence. Seancing Earth was legal, unlike actually extroverting there, because seancers could do nothing to influence events or make themselves known. As genuine reality TV, it was a popular pastime with some starborn but that didn’t mean they always understood everything they saw. The scene twisted around to a forward view again, but the fugitives had drawn a long way ahead. Mizar jumped the view a kilometer or so and started to close in on them again.
“What have they got in the vehicle, then?” Rigel asked.
“Guns,”
Similar Books
