Meeting at Infinity Read Online Free Page A

even though revenge is sweet. What did Nevada do to you, Athlone?”
    For an instant Athlone felt like an insect, rather than a jackal; it was as though Clostrides was studying him through a microscope, laying bare his very heart with a micro-scalpel. At least, though, his last question was wide of a mark. He could lie himself into believing that it was wide of a mark.
    He said chokingly, “Nevada has done nothing to
me.”
    “Then forget your duty as vice-sheriff of the Eastern Quarter,” said Clostrides with heavy irony. “If he’s nothing to you, you don’t have to care what becomes of him. And I’m sure the Quarter isn’t so peaceful that you can spend all your time on one man.”
    Shaking, Athlone rose to his feet. He knew that the talk had gone long past the danger mark. Blast Clostrides for being so damnably acute! He shot a sidelong glance at Benny. Benny was going to have to go, now. A bodyguard who had seen his master’s feelings laid so naked was too dangerous.
    “I’m honored that you conceded me so much of your time, Bailiff,” he said with an attempt at offhand formality. “I appreciate your giving me this advance information. I’ll keep it to myself, of course. And may I look forward to having Nevada handed over to me if he … survives?”
    If he doesn’t, my life will be hell. But it’s hell anyway.
    “You may,” said Clostrides, still with irony. “Look forward to it all you wish.”
    When Athlone had gone, Clostrides sat chuckling in his big chair. Superficially, of course, the Athlone-Nevada affair excluded him. It was something of a love-hate relationship on Athlone’s side for sure, and perhaps reciprocally. And yet Nevada’s connection with Lyken might yield information ofimportance. Lyken would hardly have taken a perfect stranger into his cruiser on a momen’t notice—not even in his present state of mind.
    Clostrides debated with himself only a few moments before concluding that he had to know more. Accordingly he sent for Dismar Grail, his Chief Remembrancer.
    Vacuous-faced, pasty of complexion, gangling and awkward, the Remembrancer came in and stood shifting from foot to foot before his employer. Bulging out behind the pale eyes, the snub nose, the wet-lipped mouth, was an encyclopedic store of knowledge better than the best-indexed reference library. Better for two reasons: a Remembrancer could index himself, and could spot correlations between improbable items; and a reference library gives up its information to any and all comers. There were ways of stopping Remembrancers from doing that.
    Of course, the strain was considerable; Dismar Grail had served Clostrides for six years now and was nearing the end of his useful life. A successor would have to be found for him soon.
    Clostrides cut short his reflections. He said, “A man by the name of Luis Nevada, Dismar. He’s said to be a killer.”
    The Remembrancer looked doubtful. He said in his odd, off-key voice, “There was a Luis Nevada in the Eastern Quarter who made the newstapes about four or five months ago …” He let the last word trail off, waiting for encouragement.
    “That’s right,” said Clostrides.
    “I have complete court reports,” ventured Grail. Clostrides shook his head.
    “Just the essentials, Dismar. You’re very good at giving the essentials, aren’t you?”
    The Remembrancer gave a nod; he liked to recite verbatim, which was his greatest pleasure because it was his only accomplishment. Nonetheless, Clostrides’ compliment partlymade up the deficit. He said, “He was a man called Luis Nevada. He was thirty-two years old. He was a distributor and speculator in imported goods, with special ties with Norrogood and Baleground. He’s married to a woman called Allyn Vage. There was an accident with the heating apparatus in their apartment; a Maxwell demon had its governors fail and shunted localized heat into the wife’s bed. There was a fire. She was burned and disfigured. She accused Nevada