The official continued, ignoring Jack’s words. “You see, normally, it is standard for someone to get the relevant authority before they arrive on Utrecht. I am considering whether perhaps we should send you back up to the orbital station, where you can make the appropriate application through the proper channels.”

  Jack barely suppressed a groan. “No. I can’t afford the time that would take. Isn’t there anything you can do?” Though it hurt him to say the next, he said it anyway. “Please?”

  The official considered him for a few moments. “Exactly what can you afford, Mr. Stein?”

  Ah, so that was how it was going to be. “Um,” he said carefully.

  The steepled fingers were tapping together in front of the official’s face.

  “Um…” said Jack again. “Um… one…” The official’s eyes narrowed. “Two…” This time the official glanced over at his coworker. “Okay, three. Three… hundred.”

  “Very good, Mr. Stein. I can see that your business in Balance City is very important and we must not delay it. If you can show me your handipad with the appropriate letter of invitation and the associated figures, I am sure we can get the forms processed immediately.”

  Jack nodded, his lips pressed tightly together, and dug into his coat for his handipad. He thumbed it back on, hit the financial transfer, and slipped the device across the desk. The official whipped out a machine, something big and clunky, quickly took the transfer, and then spirited it out of sight, all the while making a show of poring over Jack’s device.

  “Yes,” he said. “This communication seems to be in order.” Without looking up, he waved his companion away and reached across for one of the folders. Jack sat, his hands folded in his lap, resisting the urge to twiddle his thumbs while the man across the desk turned pages in the folder, slowly reading them without looking up. Minutes later the official reached for one of the stamps and thumped it down on the bottom of the form with a flourish.

  “There,” he said. “Make sure you carry this paper with you at all times. It is not enough to have identity documents in Balance City. This will vouchsafe your authority to be here conducting your business.

  What is your business here, Mr. Stein?”

  “It’s personal,” said Jack. There was no way he was going to tell this guy he was a PI. No way at all.

  When it had come to the part on the form asking for occupation, he’d said consultant. It was an old trick from his intelligence days, official enough to sound sort of high-powered, but vague enough not to give anything away. And anyway, the guy had seen enough, and Jack had seen enough of him. If he said anything about coming to see family on Utrecht, it was bound to pique the guy’s curiosity. Who knew what sort of tabs this place kept on its citizens?

  “My luggage?” he asked.

  “Yes, certainly. Follow me.”

  And that was Jack’s first introduction to Balance City. He dragged his bags by their leash into an elevator, which zipped him rapidly up to surface level, and he stepped out of a glass box where the elevator terminated, and into the middle of an open plaza.

  Chapter Two

  Digging out his handipad again, Jack tapped up a map of the area and turned it this way and that until he was oriented. His hotel was about two miles across the central part of Balance City. The university was farther out. He checked his credit balance, but he figured he still had enough to get him around without cutting into the emergency supply. But where the hell was he supposed to get a cab?

  If worse came to worst he could walk, but he didn’t want to waste the rest of the day, and really, it was the last thing he was inclined to do. There was enough time to be able to dump his luggage and still get to the university before things shut down for the night if he got to the hotel soon enough. Dammit, he didn’t even know what time things closed around here. He’d just become too used to Billie looking things up for him if they had to go somewhere. And hopefully there, at the university, Jack would find out what was stirring the sense of unease deep inside him. That was the last place he’d heard from Billie, and the place where the odd little university man had spoken from, telling him to come. Billie and he had been in fairly constant touch on and off, punctuated by gaps of a few days, sometimes as much as a week, but nothing as long as this last one. Then, the silence and the call that had brought him here. Still, he should have found out more about the place.

  Lazy and stupid, Jack.

  He looked around himself, trying to get his bearings. The plaza stretched about him, gray, uniform blocks inserted into one another like the pieces of a jigsaw. Metal seating ran in an even row all around the outer edges. Apart from the seats and the glass elevator booth that he had just stepped out of, the space was empty—empty except for one feature that stuck out, impossible for him to ignore. Standing off in one corner was a ludicrously large cartoon representation of some sort of hopping insect, all done out in bright green and yellow. It could hardly be art; it wasn’t even pleasant to look at. Oh, yeah—it probably had something to do with travel, some supposedly cute representation of “hopping” from place to place. There were no other signs indicating what this open expanse might be, so he guessed it was meant as a visual cue. Still, they could have used a bit of taste when choosing their signage, couldn’t they?

  With a sigh, he let his bags settle and fished around for his handipad again, but not before glancing up at a silvery orb suspended far above the plaza. There was no need to guess what that might be for, and he struggled to suppress the urge to wave at it. Damn Billie again. What did she want to go running off to a place like this for anyway?

  After a long trudge across the naked stone blocks, not a person in sight, he reached a roadway. He glanced back at the plaza, then first one direction, then the other up and down the road. To the left it ran to open forest; to the right, the start of the urban sprawl, all glass and metal. It was so different from the Locality. The Locality, even Yorkstone, had been contained, growing within their own semiorganic structures and subject not only to the constraints of their inner dimensions, but also to the whims of their programmers. Jack rethought his impression. Sprawl wasn’t really the right word. Even the

  buildings stepped gradually taller as they grew closer to the center, not a single one out of sequence to disturb the neat lines. The place screamed order, and he felt like screaming back.

  He spotted what looked like a shuttle stop and headed in that direction, towing his bags behind him.

  It didn’t take long before a compact green vehicle whirred to a stop in front of him, settled to the ground, and twin doors slid open. No driver, no other passengers, but taking the prompt, Jack

  maneuvered his bags inside and found a place to sit. As he settled back for the journey—at least it was going in the right direction, according to the map—he realized that this shuttle was the only traffic he’d seen. He’d been too busy concentrating on the city’s spectacle to notice anything much on the way in, so he had no idea whether the quietness was confined to this particular area. It was almost like stepping into a wasteland. No traffic, no people… and, actually, no vegetation either. Perhaps the locals thought that trees might disturb the clean lines of their buildings. The surrounding landscape had been full of trees, but not here. How the hell did anyone find their way around? Where were the landmarks?

  As the shuttle moved farther into the city, Jack’s concern grew. Not a single soul walked the streets. Not a single vehicle apart from his shuttle moved along the broad roadway in the same direction. He spotted another in the distance heading slowly toward them, but that was it. Glancing down at his handipad, he checked again. There was only about a block to go. This was supposed to be a thriving city. It was one of the main in-system hubs.

  There was a stop coming up ahead, so he shifted his bags, ready to alight, and stood. He could walk the rest of the way. Maybe that would give him some idea of what was going on. The shuttle glided into the stop, and the doors slid open.

  Jack stepped out onto the empty street, pushing his bags in front of him. He waited until the shuttle drew away, then looked up and down the street, then up above him. Windows, doorways, structures, all spoke of more uniformity and order. There was little variation from one edifice to the others—all neat, clean, and identical. Where were the huge signs above doorways, glittering and scrolling to catch the eye? He shook his head and started in the direction of his hotel.

  Window displays held abstract and geometric colored panels. Each doorway had a discreet little sign, similarly lettered, announcing what lay inside the building, either businesses or stores. Jack could do nothing but shake his head. Sure, Yorkstone had been clean, but nothing compared to this place. He just didn’t see Billie feeling at home here at all.

  Halfway down the next block, he found the hotel. A subtle gold trim was the only thing to set it apart from other doorways nearby. Taking a deep breath, Jack dragged his bags through the doorway and inside.

  “Okaaaaay…” said Jack as he stood surveying the scene.

  It was a hotel lobby, just like he’d have expected to see in any place that he’d been. Potted plants and dried floral arrangements dotted a marbled expanse. Crystal lighting in the ceiling and wide leather couches completed the picture, but that wasn’t what caused Jack to stop. The place was full, heaving with people. The noise washed over him along with the smell of food and drink. It wasn’t that, though.

  Every single person in the place was dressed in some archaic garb, flounces and ruffles and powdered wigs. Tambourines lay on side tables or were clutched in hands. Here and there a jester figure danced in and out among the others. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought he was in the middle of some bizarre dream.

  “Okaaaay…” he said again.

  This was the last thing he’d expected after the sterility outside. Some sort of convention party. Great.

  He spotted a route through the revelers and wove his way to the reception desk. A bright-faced woman stood behind the desk, straight blond hair tied tightly back into a bun, a big smile slipping into place with his approach.

  “Welcome, sir. Can I help you?”

  “Yeah, Jack Stein. You have a room for me.”

  “Certainly, Mr. Stein. Just one second.” The smile stayed firmly in place.

  She fiddled around with a terminal and then looked back at him. “Yes, Mr. Stein. We have you down for six nights. Welcome to Balance City. You have come at a most fortunate time.”

  “Okay. Six nights is right for now. I might be staying longer. I don’t know yet.”

  The woman nodded. A slight frown flitted across her face. “Have you your paperwork, please?”

  Jack frowned. “Paperwork?”

  “Yes, your entry permit. I will need to see it. Then if you could sign here and here…”

  Jack dug around in his coat and withdrew the slip of paper he’d received from the official earlier. Again it struck him as weird that a place would still be using paper. “Is this what you want?”

  “Yes, that’s it. Thank you.”

  She nodded congenially and took the proffered form, gave it a quick look, then slipped it through some kind of reader. After glancing at a screen, she handed the paper back. “Please make sure to inform us at least a day in advance if you wish to vary your stay, Mr. Stein. It is important to be able to make the proper arrangements.”

  “You said it was a ‘fortunate’ time… ?”

  She said something, but the background noise made it hard to hear. He leaned forward as he asked her again and caught a glance at the screen beside her. His picture, stats, details, were all there on display.

  “Festival,” she said. “The Balance City Festival. On this day everybody has parties.”

  Oh, great. He’d managed to arrive right in the middle of some local excuse for letting their hair down.

  From what he’d seen so far, it looked like they needed it.

  “It is a pity you don’t have a costume,” she said.

  “Um, right,” said Jack.

  “Oh, well. I’m sure you will enjoy our festivities all the same.”

  Jack gave another quick glance around the lobby. Somehow, he didn’t think so.

  As he headed for the elevator, he played the circumstances over in his mind. He and Billie had met Dr.

  Antille out on Mandala during the quest for a stolen artifact, a piece of technology that had been found in the alien ruins on the exclusive resort planet, and Dr. Hervé Antille had been one of the archeologists assigned to the site. Antille had taken a quick shine to Billie, and she had responded in return. Since the case, she and Antille had kept in touch, until he had finally made the offer for her to come and visit, do some work with him as experience. She had leaped at the opportunity, and who was Jack to stand in her way? Billie always had a deep hunger for knowledge and pursued it with a kind of obsessive want.

  Sometimes he wondered whether it had been a reaction to the way she’d grown up, filling the hole that the absence of a normal life had left. Despite Jack’s discomfort with her whole relationship with Antille, he was pretty sure it was just a meeting of like minds, but with Billie’s past, he couldn’t help feeling nervous. Back in the Locality, she’d been involved in… No… he didn’t really want to think

  about that either. He’d dragged her out of that ring of child prostitution and criminal hackers. But even now, somehow, what he’d done then still wasn’t enough. Jack always seemed to be letting her down in some way. He grimaced at the thought. Occasionally he even wondered if she was setting up the guilt he felt on purpose, some subtle little game. He wouldn’t have put it past her.

  Dammit, she wasn’t his responsibility, not fully. Not anymore. She was starting to be old enough to look out for herself; at least he’d thought she was. In the current circumstance, though, he was really beginning to wonder if he shouldn’t have tried a little harder to talk her out of it.

  Sixth floor. All the way up in the elevator, Jack was confronted with mirrored images of himself, looking haggard, old. Travel always took it out of you, but somehow he was looking more wasted than usual. Maybe the healthy life wasn’t so good for you after all. Well, healthier than it had been. Billie had seen to that, registering her disapproval at the various patches he had used. Somehow, she’d made him disapprove of himself too. It was no sort of example to set for a young girl.

  He would have looked away, but there were mirrors on every side, so instead he concentrated on the changing display indicating what floor he was on. He spared a thought for the uniformed bellboy at the front desk who had looked visibly disappointed when Jack had denied him the possibility of taking charge of the luggage and leading him to his room. Well, he’d get over it. This was a place for Jack to stay, nothing else. He didn’t want the fuss and the trimmings.

  A slight bounce as the elevator came to a stop, and the doors whirred open. He stepped out into silence, only the sounds of air-conditioning and machinery undercutting the quiet. At least the noise of the downstairs revelers didn’t reach up this far. Jack puzzled out the signs listing the room numbers and headed down the corridor, his bags trailing behind.

  The room wasn’t vastly different from countless rooms in countless hotels across the populated worlds.

  It was different from what they’d experienced on Mandala, sheer top-of-the-league luxury, even down to the peacocks, but that had been a whole different ball game and something that seemed a long time in the past now. He shoved his bags into the closet, not even bothering to unpack. First, he wanted to find out how to get to the university and track down this Dr. Heering. Heering knew something, and Jack was damned well going to find out what it was as soon as possible. The pale-faced academic’s last words in the call echoed in his head.

  “I think you’d better come,” he’d said, in a too-quiet voice.

  Jack felt the chill rise within him again, but he pushed it back. Maybe he was just overreacting, looking for something to give him that hard edge he’d been missing for the past few weeks. Somehow, he didn’t think so.

  He gave the room a quick glance—bed, bathroom, small table, standard stuff. He could investigate the rest of the facilities later.

  “Front desk,” he said, looking around for a blank wall.

  Nothing happened.

  Jack stood there feeling sheepish for a moment and looked around the room again. All of the walls bore some sort of decoration. No space for a wallscreen at all. There was a small flat screen on a stand in one corner of the room, but every one of the walls was hung with unfortunate abstract paintings. No wallscreen? What kind of place was this? He walked over to the screen in the corner and said, “Front desk.”

  Still nothing.

  Only then did he notice the other little anachronisms around the room. A small pile of glossy magazines

  sat on the table. Actual magazines.

  “Hunh,” he said to himself. No library call function on the room screen. No room screen, if it came to that. It had been years since he’d seen a magazine that didn’t appear on a screen or as a download. He thumbed through them. There was a fashion and style magazine, one to do with local current affairs, and a guide to local escort services. He gave a slight frown at the last. Strange. Jack flipped through that as well. One or two of the entries were circled. He shook his head and dropped it back on the table with the others. He left them where they were, looking for other signs. There, finally, he spotted another piece of old technology sitting unobtrusively on the bedside table. He crossed and picked up the handset.

  “Front desk,” he said.

  At last, there was some response. “Yes, Mr. Stein. How can I help you?”

  “I need to find out how to get to the university.”

  “Oh, I can explain that to you easily, but it will be better if you come to reception and I can give you a map and show you.”

  A map? An actual map? Damn, this place was like living in another century.

  “Haven’t you got some sort of download?”

  “I don’t understand what you mean, Mr. Stein.”

 

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