the waiters had offered to cut Sleel's steak for him with a black sword. "You didn't get to be the best thief in the galaxy by being stupid. And you didn't stay out of Confed jails for more than half a century by accident. I think maybe you're being a bit disingenuous here, old man."
Reason chuckled. "Why, Sleel. Where'd you learn a word like that?"
Sleel said, "Where's the best place to hide something?"
Reason didn't ponder that one. "Where nobody will think of looking. I didn't know you were a fan of Poe."
"Mostly the poetry," Sleel said. "But I liked `The Purloined Letter.' Emile made us read it. Where's the next best place?"
"Where they know where it is but can't get to it."
"What I figure," Sleel said. "Now, we can hide where nobody will ever find us, but that limits things.
You'll always be looking over your shoulder."
"I am anyway."
"Maybe, but you've managed to stay ahead of the game until now. First we take care of the guys with swords, then we worry about other stuff."
"All right. Meaning . . . ?"
"We go somewhere where they can find us but can't get to us-unless they do it on our terms. Then we got time to figure out who is behind this and take them out."
"Cut off the head and the body dies?"
"It worked against the Confed." Sleel said.
Reason nodded. "That makes sense. So, where are we going?"
"To The Brambles," Sleel said.
Reason shook his head. "That will be a neat trick. I'm given to understand that there are only a handful of people in the whole galaxy who can go there without spending a year getting the needed permissions and documentations to visit. They don't encourage visitors."
Sleel's smile was tight and bitter. "I know somebody," he said. "Let me tell you a story."
There were three worlds in the Bibi Arusi System: Mwanamamke, Mtu, ,and Rangi ya majani Mwezi, the Green Moon. The center planet, the backrocket-lanes Mtu, had but few things of galactic note upon it, Sleel said, some decent wines, colorful silks-but it did have The Brambles.
The area known as The Brambles covered almost four thousand square kilometers on the semitropical side of the fourth continent, Ua Ngumi, which translated roughly meant, "Flower Fist."
Much had been written about The Brambles: that it was the largest briar patch in the galaxy; that it containeddepending upon whom asked-either mankind's salvation or damnation. That it was the most brilliant botany experiment ever conducted. So important an idea was it that the Confederation had left it virtually alone for more than fifty years, no small accomplishment in itself, rather than risk interfering with its mission.
Even stupid Confed officials wanted to live forever.
For the unique plant that formed the dense sticker bush that was The Brambles might hold within its nodular roots the secret to an unlimited life span.
To be sure, there were already drugs that increased productive human lives considerably. The Bindodo vine, the genetic grandmother from which the bramble bush-Uzima edmondia-had been developed, was native to the Green Moon, and its adaptogenic properties had already given mankind and its mues up to a hundred and fifty useful years. That seemed to be the limit, however. Even eliminating most diseases, discounting accidents or murder, anything over a hundred and sixty or eighty T.S. years was still far beyond man's grasp. Past this, normal cells hayflicked and died, and while no "deathhormone" had been discovered, something wore out. Certain cancerous growths could be kept going virtually forever, but though scientists had been trying for hundreds of years, no way to impart the benefits of this growth to people without the side-effects had been uncovered.
Until U. edmondia.
Maybe.
Sampson Lewis Edmonds, acknowledged as the most brilliant applied botanist to have ever lived, along with his wife, Elith Liotulia, considered the second-most brilliant botanist in galactic history, had apparently worked a biological miracle upon the offshoot Bindodo
Reason chuckled. "Why, Sleel. Where'd you learn a word like that?"
Sleel said, "Where's the best place to hide something?"
Reason didn't ponder that one. "Where nobody will think of looking. I didn't know you were a fan of Poe."
"Mostly the poetry," Sleel said. "But I liked `The Purloined Letter.' Emile made us read it. Where's the next best place?"
"Where they know where it is but can't get to it."
"What I figure," Sleel said. "Now, we can hide where nobody will ever find us, but that limits things.
You'll always be looking over your shoulder."
"I am anyway."
"Maybe, but you've managed to stay ahead of the game until now. First we take care of the guys with swords, then we worry about other stuff."
"All right. Meaning . . . ?"
"We go somewhere where they can find us but can't get to us-unless they do it on our terms. Then we got time to figure out who is behind this and take them out."
"Cut off the head and the body dies?"
"It worked against the Confed." Sleel said.
Reason nodded. "That makes sense. So, where are we going?"
"To The Brambles," Sleel said.
Reason shook his head. "That will be a neat trick. I'm given to understand that there are only a handful of people in the whole galaxy who can go there without spending a year getting the needed permissions and documentations to visit. They don't encourage visitors."
Sleel's smile was tight and bitter. "I know somebody," he said. "Let me tell you a story."
There were three worlds in the Bibi Arusi System: Mwanamamke, Mtu, ,and Rangi ya majani Mwezi, the Green Moon. The center planet, the backrocket-lanes Mtu, had but few things of galactic note upon it, Sleel said, some decent wines, colorful silks-but it did have The Brambles.
The area known as The Brambles covered almost four thousand square kilometers on the semitropical side of the fourth continent, Ua Ngumi, which translated roughly meant, "Flower Fist."
Much had been written about The Brambles: that it was the largest briar patch in the galaxy; that it containeddepending upon whom asked-either mankind's salvation or damnation. That it was the most brilliant botany experiment ever conducted. So important an idea was it that the Confederation had left it virtually alone for more than fifty years, no small accomplishment in itself, rather than risk interfering with its mission.
Even stupid Confed officials wanted to live forever.
For the unique plant that formed the dense sticker bush that was The Brambles might hold within its nodular roots the secret to an unlimited life span.
To be sure, there were already drugs that increased productive human lives considerably. The Bindodo vine, the genetic grandmother from which the bramble bush-Uzima edmondia-had been developed, was native to the Green Moon, and its adaptogenic properties had already given mankind and its mues up to a hundred and fifty useful years. That seemed to be the limit, however. Even eliminating most diseases, discounting accidents or murder, anything over a hundred and sixty or eighty T.S. years was still far beyond man's grasp. Past this, normal cells hayflicked and died, and while no "deathhormone" had been discovered, something wore out. Certain cancerous growths could be kept going virtually forever, but though scientists had been trying for hundreds of years, no way to impart the benefits of this growth to people without the side-effects had been uncovered.
Until U. edmondia.
Maybe.
Sampson Lewis Edmonds, acknowledged as the most brilliant applied botanist to have ever lived, along with his wife, Elith Liotulia, considered the second-most brilliant botanist in galactic history, had apparently worked a biological miracle upon the offshoot Bindodo
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