“I expect the dogs will get used to it,” Ellen put in, and when she met Brent’s amazed stare, they shared a brief smile.
“You’re thinking that you beat me to that line,” Brent said. “But I wasn’t going to say that at all.”
“Oh yes, you were, and we both know it,” Ellen insisted. “Why don’t you go ahead and admit it?”
“I’ll admit to only three things,” Brent shot back, “and being no good with numbers accounts for just five of them.”
Maisie looked from Brent to Ellen and back again. “Dear God. It’s like a double act from the inner circle of Hell. I may have to emigrate. There are only so many street-corner quips a girl can stand.”
“If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the inferno,” Brent said. “Anyhow, aren’t we forgetting the real reason we came up here?”
“Of course, I’ll show you around,” Cooper said brightly. “Perhaps we could begin with the fume cupboard. It’s state-of-the-art.”
Brent held up his hands. “Let me stop you right there, Doc. Sorry, but I kinda lied about wanting to see your lab.”
Cooper’s face fell. “Oh, then what do you really want?”
“I can’t wait to hear this,” Ellen said, folding her arms. “Maybe I should call security right now. I could use a laugh.”
“Hold on a minute,” Brent replied. “All I want to do is hop on a computer for five minutes and see if we can track down Rawlgeeb, that’s all. It’s our friend that I’m thinking about. For all we know, he could be getting into trouble, so we ought to find him. It’s the right thing to do.”
Maisie grunted under her breath. She looked as though she’d very much like to argue with Brent, but she didn’t want to sound callous as far as Rawlgeeb’s welfare was concerned.
“Why didn’t you ask when we got here?” Cooper said. “Rachel would probably have told you where Rawlgeeb is.”
Brent tapped the side of his nose. “We need to keep this under the radar, and if we’d started asking questions… Well, not to put too fine a point on it, Rachel looks like the type to blab to her bosses.”
“Even so, your idea doesn’t make any sense,” Cooper protested. “I can’t trace Rawlgeeb from my computer. I don’t have that kind of access.”
“You do now,” Brent said. “If there’s a way in, Vince will find it. Doc, if you could oblige by showing the boy where you keep the necessary equipment, we’ll see what we can find out.”
Cooper shook his head vigorously. “Oh no. Every piece of hardware in this place is monitored, every connection traced. If you start poking around in the system, we’ll have security kicking the doors in before we know what’s hit us.”
Brent gestured toward the door. “It’ll take them a while. I know a reinforced door when I see one, and I reckon your precautions will buy us enough time to pull the plug and look innocent. Plus, we’ll be able to hide your dogs away before the goons show up.”
“No. I won’t do it,” Cooper insisted. “I’ve helped you in the past, and it’s always landed me in hot water. Well, no more, Brent. I’m done.”
“That’s a damned shame,” Brent replied. “I guess we’ll all head back down to the lobby then.”
“Probably for the best,” Cooper said. “I’m sorry, but you were asking too much.” He hesitated. “I hope you’ll still be able to offer some shelter for Lottie and Bumble. I care nothing for my own comfort, but you did say you’d take care of the dogs, and I hope that, as a man of integrity, you’ll stand by your word.”
Brent sighed. “I’d like to, Doc, but it seems to me that I might need to have a word with someone about these dogs. I really don’t think they should be in a lab like this. Perhaps, if I speak with Rachel, she’ll know what to do. I’m sure she could make some suitable arrangements.”
“You wouldn’t.” The color drained from the doctor’s face. “You’d turn them in? After everything I told you about the security guards?”
“I’d have to,” Brent said with a shrug. “The compulsion to tell the truth is too strong. That said, the feeling might pass if we could conclude our business and get out of here.” He smiled. “Could be worth a try, don’t you think?”
“I guess this is what you call being shaken down,” Cooper said sourly. “All right, Brent. I’ll log in and show Vince what to do. I’ll give him exactly ten minutes, and if he hasn’t found anything useful by then, we’ll leave. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly,” Brent said with a broad smile. “Vince, you’re up. Hit those keys hard, my boy. Our friend is out there somewhere, and it’s up to you to find him.”
CHAPTER 25
GIT Shuttle Call Sign: MHal01
Alone in the shuttle’s spacious cabin, Rawlgeeb gripped the armrests tight as his seat bucked beneath him. It’s a good thing I fastened my safety harness, he told himself. A metallic groan creaked from the cabin’s walls, and Rawlgeeb reached out for the call button. “Hello? What was that?”
The overhead speaker crackled into life. “Captain Levinson here. Nothing for you to worry about, sir. The Gamulon are taking us in with their tractor beam.”
“Why aren’t we landing in the usual way? Are the comm links still down?”
There was a pause before Levinson answered. “We haven’t been able to reach the station on our comms, but they’ve identified us, and they’re pulling us aboard. I’m sure they’ll brief you when we’re aboard.”
The speaker went dead, and Rawlgeeb unfastened his harness. What do they take me for? he thought. No zinger, no comms, no regular landing–The Gamulon must have its shields up. Standing carefully and holding onto a seatback for support, Rawlgeeb headed for the cockpit. This was a private shuttle, and with any luck, the door wouldn’t be locked.
But as he reached out for the door’s release panel, the floor drooped away from under his feet, leaving him staggering to stay upright. Grabbing a handrail, Rawlgeeb flung himself against the door while hitting the release panel with his other hand. The door slid open and Rawlgeeb blundered into the cockpit. “What the hell is going on?”
Captain Levinson, like Carter, kitted out in a white EVA suit, was too busy wrestling with the controls to respond, but Sergeant Carter turned in his seat, his expression grim. “Sir, please return to your seat immediately. And buckle up. This could get rough.”
“It’s already rough,” Rawlgeeb protested. “I’m not moving a muscle until you tell me what’s going on. Does The Gamulon have its shields up?”
Carter looked to Levinson, then said, “Yes, the shields are up. There’s a stand-off between the Gloabons and a group of Andel-Kreit ships. We requested safe passage, but–”
His words were lost as the shuttle shook violently from side to side, and when Rawlgeeb regained his balance, Levinson glared at him, snarling, “Get back to your seat. Strap in!”
But Rawlgeeb was staring out through the cockpit’s window. “The Gamulon! What’s happening? We’re getting farther away!”
“The Andel-Kreits have got us in their tractor beam,” Carter shouted. “We need to shake free somehow.”
“We can’t do that,” Levinson snapped. “The Gamulon’s systems have locked out our nav controls. But it looks like the station increased their tractor beam power. We’re moving forward.”
The shuttle lurched forward and then ground to a halt like a drunk man spotting an old friend and dashing to greet him, only to be confronted by a tall mirror. Rawlgeeb gripped tight to the doorframe, determined to stay upright. “What now? Why have we stopped?”
“The Andel-Kreits have upped the power to their beam,” Carter called out, his voice rising. “What can we do?”
“Calm down!” Levinson said. “Remember your training. You were in the Galaxy Corps, for God’s sake. Act like it.”
“I was in the education division,” Carter blurted. “I spent most of my time lecturing on how to avoid sexually transmitted diseases. The worst thing I ever had to face were the slides in my own presentations. Those pictures stay with yo
u, man. I’ve seen things.”
Levinson’s meaningful glare said that he’d like to take his hands from the controls just long enough to deliver a correctional slap to Carter’s quivering jowls, and Rawlgeeb decided it was about time he stepped in. “Excuse me, but am I to understand that we’re trapped in some kind of tug of war?”
“You could say that,” Levinson replied without turning around, “but frankly, I’d rather you didn’t.” Now, he looked at Rawlgeeb, and when he spoke, his tone was edged with the cold, hard steel of a freshly sharpened bayonet. “Go back to your seat. Strap in. Do not make me repeat myself.”
Rawlgeeb hesitated, but only for a second. He’d been around humans for quite some time, and he’d come to understand one thing about them very clearly: they had evolved a long way from their primitive hominid ancestors, but they hadn’t advanced anything like as far as they thought, and it didn’t take much for them to revert to their innate savagery. It was often quite entertaining to watch modern humans playing out their ancient instincts, and Rawlgeeb had often found bankers to be particularly amusing; you could take the hunter-gatherer out of the jungle and put him in a suit, but deep down, he’d always want his friends to gather around and admire the size of his cave. On this occasion though, he knew that Levinson was on the verge of erupting into a desperate struggle for superiority, and it was time to withdraw before the man tipped over the edge.
When Rawlgeeb stepped back into the shuttle’s compartment, the door slid closed, and in the silence, he took a moment to center himself. At present, there was very little he could do, but if an opportunity for action presented itself, he needed to be ready, and as the floor shuddered and swayed beneath his feet, he regained his seat, fastening the safety harness carefully. After all, he could achieve nothing if he stumbled and knocked himself senseless. This will pass soon enough, he told himself. My colleagues will be all over this by now. He smiled. My colleagues. Yes, he was still a Gloabon to the core. They may have banished him and used him as a pawn, but then they’d reached out to him, and he was ready to forgive and forget. His faith in the might of the Gloabon Government was undiminished. They would come through for him. They were no slouches on The Gamulon, and they’d figure out what to do. It was only a matter of time.
Something buzzed in Rawlgeeb’s pocket, and he pulled out the handset Mark Halbrook had given him, glancing at the caller’s ID before answering the call. “Doctor Cooper, what can I do for you?”
But it was Brent’s image that appeared on the handset’s screen. “Hey, big fella! We found you.”
“I found him.” Vince’s grinning face edged into view. “How’s it going, Rawlgeeb? The system says you’re in a shuttle but the flight plan seems to be missing. Where are you headed?”
Rawlgeeb smiled. “It’s funny you should ask that because right now, I’m going nowhere fast.”
“Cool,” Brent replied. “Listen, you’re not running out on us, are you? Only, if you’re hightailing it back to your buddies in the space station, we need to talk about the agency. Specifically, the large amount of money I’ll no longer feel obliged to pay back.”
“At the moment, I’m only visiting. The Fleet Admiral wanted to see me, and I’m hoping to get my citizenship back. But after that…” Rawlgeeb let his voice trail away. Everything had happened so fast that he’d given no thought to his long-term plans. What if they offered to reinstate his rank? What if they gave him his old job back? Would he take it? There was Breamell to consider. She might be waiting to welcome him with open arms, and if she was ready to pick up where they’d left off, he’d be a fool to turn her away. What the hell was he going to do? “I’m not sure,” he heard himself say. “We’ll have to see how it goes.”
Brent grunted. “I guess that’ll have to be good enough. Still, I’d appreciate any info you can give us, Rawlgeeb. Our hosts are keeping their cards close to their chests down here. What gives? Did they fill you in?”
“Not really. I’m sure GIT have an agenda though. For instance, I’ve no idea what they did with Surrana. I can only hope they’ve handed her over to the Gloabon authorities because–” He broke off, frowning down at the handset. “Did I hear some kind of animal noise? Where are you calling from?”
“Just the dogs yapping and whining,” Brent said. “We’re in Doc Cooper’s lab. It’s a long story.”
Rawlgeeb shook his head to dispel the range of bizarre images flooding his imagination. Whatever else you could say about Brent, he never failed to surprise. I won’t get much of that on The Gamulon, Rawlgeeb thought. No bizarre and inexplicable events, no highly improbable coincidences. Nothing but administrative routine and office etiquette. He sighed. At one time, that sense of order had been all he’d craved, but now? Now he wanted something more. He wanted unpredictability and danger. He wanted his days to be tinged with the promise of excitement.
From the corner of his eye, Rawlgeeb glimpsed movement. Probably Sergeant Carter, he thought. Barging in here to keep an eye on me. Without turning, he held up his hand. “It’s all right, I’m safely strapped in. Give me a second, can’t you? I’m on a call.”
“Er, okay,” someone said. “But be quick, all right?”
Rawlgeeb’s head snapped around. “Who the flek are you?”
The Andelian and his android companion exchanged a glance. “I’m Lieutenant Commander Zeb,” the android began, “and this is–”
“Never mind all that,” the Andelian snapped, brandishing his bolt gun. “Gloabon, you are now a prisoner of the Andel-Kreit Coalition. Stand up and keep your hands where I can see them. Dead or alive, you’re coming with us.”
“Oh, we won’t want him if he’s dead,” Zeb said. “I mean, if you’re going to kill him, we may as well leave him here. It seems pointless to drag a corpse back to the ship. What would we do with it? The waste chute on level B three is big enough, but it’s been playing up recently.”
The Andelian glared at his colleague. “Be quiet, Zeb. This is serious.”
“So is a blocked waste chute. I think someone forgot to sort the recycling properly, or perhaps they didn’t rinse out the cans because sensors indicate that there is now some kind of lifeform inside the chute. Its profile doesn’t match any known organism, so it must’ve mutated, probably as a result of being exposed to radiation. Whatever it is, it’s spreading fast. I had to shut down the whole level. I’m told that the smell is terrible, although I have no way of knowing if that is definitively the case. All I can say is, my olfactory system can pick it up from two decks away, and that can’t be good.”
“For flek’s sake, stop rambling!” the Andelian snapped. “Just grab the prisoner and stand by.”
Zeb stepped forward, but Rawlgeeb held up his hand and fixed him with a glare. “Don’t come one step closer. I warn you, I’m traveling under the protection of the Gloabon Government. A word from me, and you and your ship will be crushed like a bug underfoot.”
“And I have the warship The Kreltonian Skull at my disposal, and a fleet of destroyers standing by,” the Andelian said. “We have weapons locked on The Gamulon and ready to fire, so unless you want your friends and family to be blown to pieces, I suggest that you come with us.”
Brent’s voice drew Rawlgeeb’s attention to his handset, and he glanced down at the screen. “You won’t believe this, Brent, but it looks as though I’m being abducted…by some louts from the Andel-Kreit Coalition.”
“Is there any way you can stop them?” Brent demanded. “Anyone there who can help you?”
“If you call for help, we’ll start shooting,” the Andelian said, waggling his pistol in the air. “Don’t try my patience, Gloabon.”
Rawlgeeb looked sadly at his handset. “I have to go now, Brent. They must’ve zinged here, so I suppose they’ll take me the same way.”
“We’re wasting time,” the Andelian snarled. “Zeb, grab him.”
Zeb darted forward, and before Rawlgeeb could react, the android caught his arm and held it tight, his grip like
iron.
“Just stay alive, Rawlgeeb,” Brent called out. “Stay alive, and we will find you.”
Rawlgeeb opened his mouth to reply, but Zeb snatched the handset from his fingers and ended the call.
“Take it easy,” Rawlgeeb said. “No need for anyone to get bent out of shape.” The flicker of confusion racing across the android’s features gave Rawlgeeb some satisfaction, and a strange sense of calm came over him. He could rely on Brent. A few weeks ago, he’d never have placed his trust in a human, especially a human like Brent. The man was an idiot: a clown who’d be out of his depth in even the shallowest of scholarly waters. But despite all his swagger and hard-bitten bluster, Brent had an underlying core of loyalty. And what he lacked in appreciation for the higher-minded pursuits, he more than made up for with low cunning and a flagrant disregard for expected norms of behavior. Brent would come up with a rescue plan, and although it would probably be based on little more than wildly misplaced optimism, it might just be bold enough to work. Most humans say it’s wrong to crack a nut with a sledgehammer, he thought. But sometimes, if the nut is hard enough, only a sledgehammer will do.
He didn’t resist as Zeb released his safety harness and pulled him to his feet. As well as being armed with a pistol, the android was clearly very strong, and anyway, if they’d wanted to hurt him, they would have done it already. “I suppose you’re not going to return my handset,” Rawlgeeb said, but he received only a cold glare in return. “Oh well. Let’s get on with it. You don’t happen to have any reptiles on your ship, do you? I’m starving.”
“Stand very still,” Zeb said. “This won’t take long.”
“Three to zing up,” the Andelian said into his handset, then added, “No. The yellow one. Yellow. Yellow!” He clapped his hand to his forehead, and in the next moment, Rawlgeeb felt the first tingling of a zinger creeping across his skin. This is going to interesting, he thought, and then the cabin blinked out of existence.
Dead Men Don't Disco Page 17
