Juggler of Worlds Read Online Free

chemistry. It’s no accident you’re as messed up as ever.
    “Sigmund, that’s the reason I understand you. We’re the
same.”
    He wanted to believe. Of course, he’d heard the stories. Who hadn’t? The thing was—
    “Sigmund,” she snapped. “Stay with me. You’re thinking: ARMs put out the rumor that they’re paranoid to trick you into revealing that you’re paranoid. I did, too.”
    For the first time since Sigmund had climbed out of the autodoc, she peered directly into his eyes. “Bright and paranoid is a license to be miserable and alone. Miserable maybe I can’t help. But alone—that’s something else.”
    He accepted the new ident chip she offered him. When he held it just right, a blue globe and his name shimmered above it. It was supposedly keyed to his DNA and would get him into the ARM academy in London. He struggled into the plain, black suit she whisked from a cabinet. It didn’t surprise him that it had been synthed to his size and preferred style.
    He admitted nothing, promised nothing. He was, finally, apparently free.
    Free to go? Free to be followed? Festooned with tiny cameras?
    Beyond the clinic door, an office buzzed with activity. No one paid Sigmund any attention. Ignoring the transfer booths, he found his way outside. Large five-pointed stars shone in the pedestrian walkway. Grauman’s Chinese Theatre stood across and just down the street.
    He turned. Above the double doors through which he had just exited,stone-carved letters read: Amalgamated Regional Militia, Los Angeles District. A faux ARM office could hardly be fabricated in such a public place.
    Sigmund fingered the ident chip Agent Filip—Feather—had given him. It suddenly seemed possible, after more than a century alone, that he had finally discovered a place where he could fit in.



“Eerie, don’t you think?” Without waiting for an answer, Trisha Schwartz cranked the bridge telescope’s holo to max magnification. Her voice brimmed with curiosity and impatience.
    Nessus marveled. Their ship was not even a minute out of hyperspace. Curiosity explained why she and her colleague were here; there was much to be learned in this place. Their impatience explained why
he
was. Someone had to show judgment.
    She
should
be eager. This was, theoretically, a rescue mission. Nessus kept his pessimism to himself.
    Distorted and curdled starlight rushed at him and vanished, replaced by… nothing. Vertigo washed over him. Nessus braced himself against the nearest bulkhead and sought meaning in the amplified hologram display.
    Trisha said, “It shows in the mass pointer. Its magnetic field is enormous. It’s unmistakable on deep radar. And here”—she poked a hand into the center of the projection—“nothing.”
    Beside her, a crash couch creaked as Raul Miller shifted his considerable bulk. “Just wait,” he said. A tiny circle of light flashed and disappeared. Seconds later a second halo flickered.
    Trisha was delighted. “See? Gravity lensing as stars pass directly behind it. We’re still not seeing
it
. It’s eerie, I tell you. Don’t you agree, Nessus?”
    Nessus was a label of convenience. His real name was only reproducible by paired throats or a wind ensemble. Unaware he was in listening range (why reveal how acute his hearing truly was?), Trisha had once described his name as an industrial accident set to waltz time.
    That was no worse, Nessus supposed, than what humans called all his race: Puppeteers.
    “I sense nothing supernatural here,” Nessus said, choosing his words with caution. He did everything with caution. “Scary, I’ll grant you.”
    That got the chuckle Nessus knew it would. Puppeteers were widely seen as cowards—which, essentially, was why this ship flew with a human crew.
    Alas, Nessus thought, I’m just crazy enough to be assigned to lead them.
    KNOWLEDGE IS POWER. On that all intelligent species concurred.
    Species differed on how best to acquire knowledge. Among Nessus’ kind, it