Free Race Against Time by Piers Anthony Page B

He had thought the dog understood—and now this!
    Then Canute's nose reappeared. There was something between his teeth. A tug and haul and a length of rope dropped down.
    "Good boy!" John caught the end, jerked it to be sure it was anchored, and hauled himself up the wall. He threw a leg over the top and scraped his torso under the roof. The brick did not actually support the roof, he saw, nor was it the whole wall. There was a rammed-earth filler inside and then a wooden framework. Beams rising from this met the ceiling. The perch up here was not comfortable, but it would do.
    The rope was securely knotted around one of the wooden uprights. John was sure Canute could not have done that. Who, then?
    Canute crawled along a beam for a few feet, to where the rising roof left a larger space. It was dark and distressingly hot here. Then he shifted over to a dark square well—a ventilation shaft?—and climbed down into it. Cautiously, John followed. He could tell by the sounds Canute made that the hole was not deep, and he was able to drop down with only a slight thump. This landing must be on an upper story. One side of this space was wood, but another was cloth. A large blanket or rug hung down, and specks of light showed through it like stars. Canute sniffed the air for a moment, then pushed past the edge of the curtain.
    John's eyes had just adjusted to the darkness, and now the return to light was painful. But he squinted and followed the dog from one room to another. He was aware of painted wooden walls and ornate tapestries and elegant sculptures and bamboo furniture and knew that this was the house of a wealthy man. An official, probably. Then there was a courtyard, neatly laid out, with unfamiliar flowers around the edges. He wondered fleetingly whether they could be poppies—opium poppies.
    "Who are you?"
    John jumped, though the tone was quiet. Before him was a Chinese youth about his own age but more slender. John parried with his own question: "Are you Yao Pei?"
    "I am." The other looked coldly at him, waiting for an explanation.
    "I'm—I'm John Smith. I—"
    "Show me your hand."
    Surprised, John held out one hand. Pei took it and rubbed something on the palm. The yellow faded, showing the brown of Standard disguise. Pei looked down at it, then at John, not deigning to speak.
    "Rub some more," John said quickly.
    In another moment the brown gave way to the pink-white, and no further rubbing would change it. "So the dog did not betray me," Pei murmured.
    "That was your secret entrance he sniffed out?" Suddenly it made sense. If Pei were as smart as reputed, he would have his own exit—and Canute, following the smell, would naturally have found it. A hidden rope!
    "Do not speak," Pei said. He left the room, gesturing John to remain.
    So Pei had made the connection to Betsy! He had to know that there was only one Caucasian boy available and what John's purpose had to be, and he would certainly be aware that he was watched much of the time.
    Pei returned with a girl. She was lovely—a delicate Oriental aristocrat, poised and serene. She wore a garment of bright silk, embroidered with a portrait of a silver unicorn. Iridescent feathers decorated her copious black hair. A jeweled sash fit closely around her slender waist. Her feet were tiny.
    "Meilan, go with this man," Pei said.
    She only nodded.
    John looked at Pei, wanting to ask his plan, if any. Pei gestured toward Canute.
    "Stay," John murmured to the dog. "Lead him."
    Canute looked unhappy, but he obeyed.
    Meilan took John's arm and guided him firmly through the house. They saw no one, though John was sure others were near. Somehow Pei had arranged it so that there was no suspicion. Betsy must really have briefed him! They went down narrow steps and out the front gate. So the house was not on two levels; its main floor was raised.
    Outside, John thought it was his turn to guide her, but she would not follow his lead. She insisted silently that they go north,