"Yes, I do know him. Kevi Freeson. He's a civilian, born and raised on our colony Rip World."
Ebsa eyed Wolfson. Tried to subdue his fight-or-flee instincts, which were screaming that he ought to run away. Fast. Immediately. "So . . . what was he doing trying to sneak into Government House?"
"Oh . . . that's a bit worrisome. Because he's the God of Thieves." Wolfson steepled his fingers and eyed Ebsa across the desk.
At least the interior of the building isn't black basalt. But then with Xen Woldson here, there's no need for the building to be scary.
"Do you have, did the One World preserve the legends of noble thieves? Robin Hood or the Saint? Thieves who stolen from vicious criminals, corrupt politicians?
"Yeah, we've got Robin Hood, and bunch of others. So, you think your collective subconscious wants him to steal . . . what?" Ebsa broke off as the man shook his head.
"More likely your collective subconscious wants something out of someone's hands. But . . . Government House surprises me. My advice . . . "
Ebsa shook his head. "The diplomats can work on getting him home. Urfa wants to know what Disco is going to do about it."
"Speak harshly to King Leano? Kevi's not in the Army, takes orders from no one. No, I think what I'm going to advise you do is find out what he's after, and why so many people don't like Orde having it." The Fallen Wizard eyed his. "And . . . he's actually staying imprisoned? Now that is really odd. I wonder why?"
"You aren't going to rescue him?"
"No. He's perfectly capable of rescuing himself. As soon as the collective subconscious wants him to escape. You need to find out what is going on. And just asking him won't help. He often has no idea what he needs to steal until he's actually got his hands on it." Wolfson was starting to look worried. "Surely not a bomb. I'd get Orde out of there, myself."
Ebsa nodded. "He already is." Shrug. "Thank you for your advice. I think I have a better idea of what we need to do." I hope.
His relief at getting further away from the Master of the Universe was brief. Outside he had to turn his back on the aura of Disco Headquarters as he scuttled across to the Empire's embassy compound, grab his car and drive back through the gate.
Azko was on duty when he got back to the holding cells in the government district police station in Paris.
Kevi wasn't terribly impressive for a god. Medium height, wiry build. Black hair in need of a cut. He was flat on his back in the cot, hands behind his head, the picture of unconcern.
Then he turned his head and opened his eyes. Green, shot through with darker green . . . and something deep, underneath it.
Okay, maybe there is more to him than I'd thought. Not as frighteningly obvious as it was with Wolfson, but still . . .
"Well, Mr. Freeson, I've had an interesting discussion with Xen Wolfson."
The boy frowned, clearly not pleased. "Even he can't stop me." Only a tiny little waver of uncertainty at the end.
"Well, we've decided that we don't want to make this into a trans-dimensional crisis, so I've been ordered to be nice, and pretend it was all a misunderstanding. So, I'm going to ask the warden to release you to my custody. I'll give you, One help me, a nice friendly tour of the architecture you were so fascinated by. Then I'm going to kick your ass through the gate to Embassy." Ebsa gave the thief his most fake smile.
The thief shrugged and stood up, strolled to the door. "No need to bother the warden. I figured this lock out hours ago, and opened it." He put his palm flat on the plex sheet and slid it . . . his hand slid, but the door remain in place. He frowned and thumped it. Tried to slide it again.
Ebsa tapped at his comm. The warden came down in person . . . to fail to unlock the door.
It took them three hours to get the laughing idiot out.