The Wizardry Consulted (Wiz, #4)(38)

If he screws them up we’ve got major problems, national-security-wise.”

“But the Cold War is over,” the director protested. “We’re not worried about the Russians any more.”

“We use them to eavesdrop on the Japanese and Koreans,” Hampton said apologetically.

The director ground out her cigarette and muttered a highly politically incorrect phrase from her childhood. One that used “mother” as an adjective three times.

“All right, this clown wants to go to San Francisco ‘to pursue a hot lead.’ Any suggestions?”

For a long moment no one at the table said anything. Then Hampton voiced the inevitable. “Since it’s a legitimate national security case I don’t think we dare stop him,” he said apologetically.

The director used the phrase again.

Well, Ray Whipple thought, at least I’m getting some time in San Francisco out of this. Ray liked San Francisco, especially when it was summer in the desert, but he wasn’t looking forward to this trip at all.

He looked around the office to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything-and to keep his mind off what the rest of today was going to be like.

For one thing it involved a ninety-minute automobile ride with Myron Pashley, followed by a wait in an airport and a two-hour flight with the man. That was a lot more than the Recommended Daily Allowance of Pashley and damn close to the LD-50.

Which was the other thing. The man would not shut up about this system breaker he was tracking. Since most of what he had to say was palpable nonsense and he seemed utterly immune to anything he didn’t want to hear, his chatter was like fingernails on a blackboard to the astronomer. Ray was taking his Walkman and a selection of his favorite Bach tapes in the hope he could drown Pashley out. He suspected strongly the FBI agent wouldn’t take the hint.

Look on the bright side, Whipple thought. When we get to Silicon Valley he’s someone else’s problem.

Finally, Ray turned on his vacation demon and logged his terminal off the system. The vacation program would automatically respond to any e-mail messages with an electronic form letter telling the sender he would be gone for a while. He looked around the office for the last time and realized Pashley’s terminal was still active and connected. Idiot! Ray Whipple thought. As a final gesture he turned on the vacation demon on Pashley’s system as well.

Unfortunately Ray was distracted and didn’t think it through. The vacation demon didn’t think at all. It just did what it was programmed to do.

It was mid-morning when Wiz came into his workroom. Since Anna had started working here he was actually able to sleep in most mornings and he enjoyed the sensation immensely.

Just because he slept late didn’t mean others did. Anna was usually up at first light of dawn and even Malkin didn’t often sleep later than he did.

This morning both of them were in his workroom staring at the screen saver he had finished the night before. Anna was standing carefully behind the blue line on the floor, broom in hand, obviously interrupted at her work. She was staring at the display like a child seeing her first Christmas tree. Malkin was just behind her, also watching the ever-changing patterns.

Anna saw him and blushed. “Oh, I’m sorry, My Lord, I didn’t mean to . . .

It’s just that it’s so beautiful.”

“It’s a screen saver,” Wiz told her. “Although there’s really no screen there to save.”

Malkin examined the glowing pattern and grunted. “What does it do?”

“Well, it doesn’t really do anything.” Wiz looked back at the swirl of color. “You know, if they had invented those things back in the sixties when everyone was dropping LSD the intellectual history of the Western World would have been considerably different.”

Malkin grunted again and turned away.

“If you’ll excuse me, My Lord,” Anna said tentatively. “I’ll leave this room until later.” With that she turned and hurried out.

Wiz watched her go and shook his head. He was no more immune to physical beauty than most men, but like a lot of men he rated other things higher than looks when it came to female attractiveness. Intelligence, for instance-which definitely put Anna out of the running. Besides, the girl’s vulnerability triggered his protective instincts.

And always and above all there was Moira. He sighed at the thought and set to work.

As usual, the first thing Wiz did was to check his mail.

The very first message was from a net id he didn’t recognize. Spam or junk mail? he thought as he called it up.

Special Agent Myron Pashley will be out of the office and unavailable for

the next two weeks. Please forward any urgent messages to [email protected]

Myron Pashley,

Special Agent, FBI

Wiz went cold. They were on to him! Someone must have found his mailboxes on the broken system and called in the Feds. He recognized the form of the message as a vacation demon. It was just sheer blind luck that the FBI agent who had been getting copies of his messages had gone on vacation and hadn’t bothered to exclude his drop from the demon’s reply list.

Wiz slammed his hand to his forehead and damned himself as an utter idiot. He had been stupid to use that mailbox setup for so long! It was only a matter of time before someone traced him back, found the cutout and caught him.

But in spite of the danger he needed that e-mail link to the Wizard’s Keep. He’d have to come up with something to make it secure from snoopers in both worlds.