BORGO PRESS BOOKS BY WILLIAM MALTESE
Anal Cousins: Case Studies in Variant Sexual Practices
Back of the Boat Gourmet Cooking (with Bonnie Clark)
Blood-Red Resolution: An Adventure Novel
Catalytic Quotes (Some Heard Through a Time Warp)
Draqualian Silk: A Collector’s & Bibliographical Guide to the Books of William Maltese, 1969-2010
Emerald-Silk Intrigue: A Romance
The Fag Is Not for Burning: A Mystery Novel
From This Beloved Hour: A Romance
Gerun, the Heretic: A Science Fiction Novel
The Gluten-Free Way: My Way (with Adrienne Z. Milligan)
The Gomorrha Conjurations: An Adventure Novel
The “Happy” Hustler
Heart on Fire: A Romance
In Search of the Perfect Pinot G! (with A. B. Gayle)
Incident at Aberlene: An Espionage Novel (Spies & Lies #1)
Incident at Brimzinsky: An Espionage Novel (Spies & Lies #2)
Jungle Quest Intrigue: A Romance
Love’s Emerald Flame: A Romance
Love’s Golden Spell: A Romance
Moon-Stone Intrigue: A Romance
Moonstone Murders: The Movie Script
Schism on Antheer-D: Science Fiction (Gods & Frauds #1)
Schism on Bnth: A Science Fiction Novel (Gods & Frauds #2)
Slaves
A Slip to Die for: A Stud Draqual Mystery
Summer Sweat: An Erotic Anthology
SS & M: Being Excerpts from the Nazi Death-Head Files
Total Meltdown: An Adventure Novel (with Raymond Gaynor)
When Summer Comes
William Maltese’s Wine Taster Diary: Spokane & Pullman, WA
Young Cruisers
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 2007, 2013 by William Maltese
Published by Wildside Press LLC
www.wildsidebooks.com
DEDICATION
For all “missionaries” who
risk venturing into alien terrain.
CHAPTER ONE
Panrun-Ru: Incinerate the book! For it contains heresy.
Maxlima II: Should not we first run it through complete analysis?
Panrun-Ru: We have run it through all the analysis that need be. I repeat, the contents are heretical.
Maxlima II: But what of the molecular makeup of binding and pages? Aren’t we missing out on an opportunity to discover new structural formats?
Panrun-Ru: Advantaged-Risk does not balance out. In my estimate. In the estimate of the Religio-College. You may, of course, file Ruler Prerogative, section 3-dash-7. But, may I remind you of the consequences if the Telegrine Forum rules against you?
Maxlima II: Incinerate the book! But save the man!
—From transcript IV-4-20, regarding the book found in the possession of the man, Jon Missionary. Jesstic File 14-5-6.
Was it Kalvin who had summoned Gerun to this spot of nothingness on the edge of the escarpment?
At seventeen, Gerun wasn’t versed well enough in the mentat-exercises to identify the sender error-free. The signet-circle had been Kalvin’s, there was no denying that. Forgery of the intricate maze-image would have been impossible for even the craftsmen in Warluck’s employ to duplicate. But what of the contents? Added after Kalvin had somehow been tricked into affixing his signet-circle to the mentat-send?
The rendezvous spot had Gerun worried. It was perfect for an ambush. Cylic blazers could easily weave the area and find the target. Boy today, blistered crust tomorrow! Not a pretty anticipation after having survived three assassination attempts in as many terns. Gerun Missionary had every right to be wary.
Would Kalvin really have risked this spot for a meeting? Kalvin who had three-hundred assassination attempts registered against him since the clandestine purge had been initiated by the Religio-College. Not that the Religio-College even now owned up to them. The assassins had been expensively mind-erased to reveal nothing, even when they failed to self-terminate—as at least twenty had done —upon mission failure. Lately, though, suspecting increasing support among a populace long jealous and suspicious of the Missionary gene mix, the Religio-College had become more openly vocal with accusations that Jon Missionary had been as heretical as his book. Living, for a member of the Missionary clan, had become more and more precarious as the family had dwindled from twenty-four, at the last rising of the stellar curl around Kynol-II, to a mere four.…
“I’m afraid, there are only us two, now,” a voice said, close by, startling Gerun out of a reverie which had dangerously lowered his defenses against mentat-penetration.
“Kalvin?” His inner senses worked overtime to collate the voice pattern. Ears alone could be deceptive. The sophisticated mechanics had by Warluck could duplicate to the flaw-minus-six category.
“You mean, you were expecting someone else?” The quick response indicated no fear on the part of the sender that Gerun would utilize the additional dialogue for a speedier verification of origin. In fact, the resumption of a send so quickly as much as indicated a request for Gerun to confirm before actual face-to-face confrontation. Apparently, the sender had no intentions of sneaking up on Gerun, while obviously knowing the boy was waiting. The sender’s voice register was too audible to be haphazardly thrown. Unless, of course, Warluck’s lato-synes had developed even more sophisticated methods in their dealings with their assumed enemies.
“Only two of us left?” Gerun swerved into analyzing content once the Kalvin-ident mode seemed confirmed. The decline of Missionary clansmen had already gone from twenty-four to four. Now from four to two? This existent mind-meld the kind which could only be achieved between one Missionary and another? Gerun was more confident now that it was Kalvin who was the sender. He was disturbed, though, by what the sent message insinuated.
“We are alone, Gerun,” came the reply. The send was clearer as the sender grew closer in the darkness, although there was yet no visible sign or other-than-mentat sounding. “I tried to reach Kors, but the lines were already severed. Maseen’s channels were clogged with pain interference, indicating poison of the fiss-six variety. I dared not connect for long, of course, because you and I know how fiss poisons break down mentat and allow tracing. Think how many of us have died via fiss ingests so our secrets could be recorded by our enemies upon our exits.”
Beyond the decoded vibrations of his ear, Gerun heard the first outside indication of the approach. Kalvin—if it was Kalvin—was near. Beyond the next boulder, around the next bend, the gravel of a dried stream bed crunching beneath the weight of his feet.
“We could be sitting ducks for Cylic blazers,” Gerun said. “Not to mention Mylon-probes turned loose within this darkness.”
“But we have been too clever for them at the moment,” Kalvin sent. “They believe you have slipped the East Gate for meanderings on the Gran Sea. They have servo-ten units scouting even now. I’ve been no less clever. They’ve found my rest-cylinder empty and have followed a false trail to the Gryphis Cave. They ponder, and well they might, the motive of a descendant of Jon Missionary conversing with pagan gods.” He chuckled. He was old and could see the humor in the game, even though he saw himself—and probably the boy—as