fugue - Oblique Publications

JANE BARON ˆˆˆˆˆ
FUGUE
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shaking his head speechlessly.
“Why the hell did you jump on me like
that? I know,” —following Avon’s gaze to the
blistered rock behind him. “But a simple ‘duck’
might have sufficed.”
“And it might not. I hesitated to take any
risks with your sacred life—”
“—and it probably was just too good a
chance to pass up.”
“Probably.” Avon glanced around, but
Blake’s Garthian escort group had scattered.
Keeping well to one side he swung the door of
the shrine a little farther open with the tip of his
blaster.
“A mini laser cannon. Rusty but obviously
still functioning—and set to activate when
the door opens. Small wonder no one can look
the Great God in the face.”
Blake was looking back over the mountain
path. “I’m still not satisfied that they don’t
have any information—”
“Oh, come on, Blake. Don’t be more
stupid than you can help. They’ve seen that
you’re human enough to get knocked flat, and
I’ve just taken a potshot at their God. How much
information do you think they’re going to give a
couple of apostate pretenders?”
Blake put a skinned knuckle to his lips
and sucked it reflectively. “I gave them my
teleport bracelet,” he pointed out, making it not
quite an accusation.
Avon simply gave him a patient look and
pushed up a silver sleeve to reveal two bracelets.
He snapped one off with a flick of his wrist and
proffered it.
“Nice,” said Blake dryly. “Taking lessons
from Vila, are you? Lift anything else?”
“I brought it down with me from the
ship.” At Blake’s expression, he added, “A standard
precaution.” Before Blake could ask ‘since
when?’, the other man had put his lips to his
bracelet. “Vila, teleport now.”
Vila goggled openly at the sight of
Blake. “What’s that get-up supposed to be?”
“It has finally happened, Vila. Our fear-
less leader is no longer merely a saint. He has
transcended into his true semi-divine status.”
Vila mulled that over. “Why is it,” he
said to Blake in tones of compassionate comradeship,
“that when he gets to be a god it’s all
prophecies and pretty women, and when you do
it’s all muck and bother?”
“One of those small mysteries which
make life so intriguing,” said Avon. “The muck
can be washed off, at least. As the delicate aroma
of camel is another story, I suggest we hold your
next prayer service in the open air.”
Blake vanquished the robes at last and
threw them across the room, panting. “I’m considering
re-instituting the practice of human
sacrifice,” he said meaningfully, and then, under
Avon’s eye, he grinned. “Avon. I don’t recall
whether I said thank you before.”
“You did not. As usual, you took it as
your divine right to be rescued.” But as he
returned his bracelet to the rack, he cocked an
inquisitive eyebrow. Blake realized that he
himself was smiling at Avon without the edge of
tension which usually accompanied his gratitude.
Usually thanking Avon meant conceding a
point, incurring a debt. But just now all he felt
was affection and appreciation. He’d forgotten
how good it could be to just be with Avon, during
the rare interludes when the two of them were
not jostling for position. The rare moments when
they were in tune.
Avon, none the wiser for Blake’s continued
beaming, raised a shoulder and went his
way. But Blake stared after him, grin slowly
fading. The good feeling was gone now, and in
its place a coldness, a sense of dread. Of impending
doom, even.
What could be so terrible? Nothing had
happened. If anything, today had proved that
they could still work together, perhaps better
than ever before.
But his stomach was ice. He did not want
to question why, to examine it. He did not want
to think at all.
He had no choice.
Advising Vila he would be unavailable
ˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆ PÆAN TO PRIAPUS ˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆ
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