TekLab

by William Shatner

  “Is this Edwin Bozwell likely to be here this late?” asked Jake as they rose slowly upward.

  “Far as I know, Bozwell just about lives in his offices.”

  “What business does he pretend to be in?”

  “He calls himself a theatrical agent,” she replied. “He does book an occasional act, mostly mechanical stuff. Andy strippers, roboxers, programmed puppets and the like.”

  “But his real vocation is providing sluggers and stormtroopers?”

  Nodding, Marj said, “Nobody’s been able to prove it, but Bozwell’s the major supplier of mercenaries in England.”

  “The dead girl was one of his, huh?”

  “Yes, another runaway who graduated to better things.”

  The elevator halted at Level 37, the doors moved aside.

  The office they sought had an opaque plastiglass door with bozwell talent agency etched on it in gilt.

  Marj tapped the door and it slid open.

  The office was small and cluttered, reeking of spicy food and machine oil. Bozwell himself, a puffy dark man of thirty-five, was sitting behind a small neowood desk and eating something green out of a plazcarton with a pair of thin metallic chopsticks. All around him rose stacks of old-fashioned costume trunks, storage bins, massive packing crates, and spills and tangles of spangled clothes.

  “Marjie, Marjie,” he said in his croaking voice. “It’s a frigging pleasure to see you once again. Who’s the John?”

  Smiling, Marj pushed aside a pile that was a mix of faxscripts and vidcassettes. “You’re losing weight, Edwin.” She perched on the desk edge.

  Carefully, Bozwell sealed the carton and set it aside. Then he wiped the chopsticks, thoroughly, on a plyochief and returned them to their neoleather case. “Actually, Marjie honey, I’m down almost eleven ounces this past week alone. So who did you say this guy is?”

  “A friend,” she said.

  “That’s nice you got a few frigging friends,” the fat agent said. “Being a loner, let me tell you, can drive you bughouse.”

  “Guess who I just saw over on the gangside, Edwin?”

  “I haven’t the faintest frigging idea.”

  “Annie Kettleman.”

  “That name doesn’t ring a single chime with me, Marjie honey.”

  Marj leaned closer to him. “Annie worked for you.”

  “Nope, wrong. I don’t represent any talent named Annie Kellerman.”

  “Annie Kettleman—and, sure, you do,” she said. “She’s been a mercenary on your list for over a year. I know, because I’ve been trying to persuade her to quit for almost that long.”

  “C’mon, Marjie,” complained Bozwell, annoyed. “You’re babbling like a frigging bobby. I am, pure and simple, a theatrical agent. I know, yeah, there have been dirty rumors circulating that I book mercenaries, killers, and all sorts of unsavory types.” He reached for the chopstick case. “It’s been truly swell seeing you again, but now, honey, I got other—”

  “Edwin, I can be, as you know, awfully nasty,” she reminded him as, smiling, she took hold of his coat collar. “And my friend here—he’s even worse. So what say you tell us all about who contracted for two dozen or so of your prize mercenaries to raid the Tek Kids’ hideout?”

  “I don’t know a frigging thing about—”

  “Edwin, I wish you’d be serious.” Swinging out with her right hand, she slapped the fat man hard across the face.

  He glared up at her. “Good thing you’re a dame, honey,” he said in his croaking voice. “Otherwise, it’d be your bum in a sling about now.”

  She slapped him again, even harder. “I know damn well you sent Annie over there to get killed,” she said. “Tell me who—”

  “All I’ve got to tell you is to get the hell out of my frigging office.” Bozwell got suddenly to his feet, making a sweeping movement with his left arm that knocked Marj off the desk and against a tower of cartons. Stumbling, her ankle turned under her and she fell to the floor. She landed on her side and cried out in pain.

  Jake was reaching for his stungun.

  Behind the angry agent a panel in the opaque office wall whipped open.

  Two large and formidable androids came charging into the room.

  Dan had awakened with the sun shining brightly in his face.

  He was sitting in a high-backed wicker chair, slumped against a collection of colorful pillows. The high, wide window a few feet in front of him showed a stretch of empty yellow beach. Beyond that was nothing but intensely blue water.

  A lone gull came swooping down through the bright, clear afternoon sky. It made a slow, lazy circle close to the surface of the sea. All at once its left wing fell off its body.

  The gull, wobbling, tried to climb higher. Instead, though, it fell, hitting the surface with a splash and swiftly sinking.

  “That’s the third one today,” said someone behind him. “They’re obviously not buying top-of-the-line botbirds.”

  “Nancy!” Dan started to get up, but neither of his legs went along with the idea. Feeling suddenly dizzy, he sank into the chair. It creaked loudly.

  The girl, who’d been standing just behind his chair, moved up to take hold of his hand. “They used a stungun on you, Dan,” she told him. “You’d better take it easy for a while.”

  “Let me ask a few questions.” He held on tightly to her hand.

  She rested one hip against the arm of the chair. “Go ahead, but don’t try to get up and walk around just yet.”

  “I remember coming to after that asshole—Excuse me, after Merlin used his telek abilities on me and knocked me out.”

  “I met Merlin. He was an asshole.”

  “Okay, then I woke up inside Buckingham Palace. You were there, and that guy named Lancelot.”

  “Yes. When I heard you’d been captured, I insisted that Lancelot let me see you.”

  “Did he ... I mean, they told me that he—”

  “We can talk about that later.”

  Dan looked up at her face. “Right after you got there, almost one whole wall of the room we were in seemed to explode away and—” He shook his head slowly. “That’s about all I can remember, Nancy. Except that a couple of big guys in black suits started to grab you.”

  “When you tried to stop them, one of them used his stungun on you.”

  “And they brought us here?”

  She nodded. “They killed quite a few of the others.”

  “Why’d they spare us?”

  “Me they spared because of my father,” she explained. “You they brought along because they’re not sure how much I may’ve confided in you. And they’re curious about what you may have told to somebody else.”

  “Where the hell are we exactly?”

  “We’re up in an orbiting resort satellite,” she answered. “It’s a place called the Caribbean Colony. Very exclusive and expensive, despite the defective gulls.”

  “Obviously, huh, it’s more than just a resort?”

  “They’ve got a very efficient Teklab hidden away in the innards of this thing.”

  “Okay, now tell me who they are—some of the big Tek cartels?”

  Letting go of his hand, she walked closer to the window. “I’d better explain why I ran away,” she said, watching the bright simulated afternoon. “I overheard the McCays talking.”

  “I know. You hinted to me that you’d learned things about them.”

  “I didn’t want to tell you everything back then,” she said. “Mostly because I didn’t want to believe what was really going on. Instead, I ran away, planning to spend a few days with Sally. I had the childish idea that I’d be able to get everything sorted out.”

  “This has to do with your father, doesn’t it?”

  “Oh, yes, it does. Very much to do with Bennett Sands, noted industrialist and jailbird.” She turned to face him again. “He’s right here in the satellite with us. I haven’t seen him yet, but—”

  “Hey, wait. The last time I heard, he was in that maxse
c prison near Bunter Academy.”

  “He escaped, with a lot of outside help,” she said. “That happened while you were hunting for me.”

  “The escape—that’s one of the things you heard them talking about, isn’t it?”

  “One of the things,” she admitted quietly.

  “Why is he here?”

  “Well, my father is practically running this whole damned operation.” Very quietly, the girl began to cry.

  This time Dan was able to stand. He made it to Nancy’s side and put an arm around her. “It’s okay,” he assured her. “We’re together now and—”

  “No, Dan, nothing is okay, nothing at all,” she said. “Go back and sit down. I’m going to have to try to tell you as much as I know and—hell, I’m sorry, but some of it isn’t going to be very pleasant for you to hear.”

  28

  THE LARGE BLOND ANDROID sprinted, hopped atop Bozwell’s desk, and then came hurtling at Jake.

  Jake meantime bicycled backwards, drew his stungun, and dropped to the floor.

  The heavy mechanical man sailed clean over him to slam into a costume trunk.

  The lid of the trunk popped open; bright crimson and gold plumes and swirls of silvery ribbon came spewing out to shower the android.

  Bounding upright, Jake fired at him.

  The blond andy snarled, made an attempt to catch hold of Jake. But he suddenly stiffened, disabled. He gave out a series of staccato gagging noises, falling over sideways. He toppled a stack of cartons and they came falling down all around him as he smacked out flat on the office floor.

  Turning, Jake saw that the other android was kneeling over the fallen Marj, wide legs straddling her. He was using both of his powerful hands to choke her.

  Not hesitating, Jake aimed his stungun and fired again.

  The large android jerked to an upright position, hands leaving the woman’s throat. His arms went back, elbows jabbing at the air. He ceased to function, dropping over with a thud.

  “I’m warning you,” shouted Bozwell, who was huddled behind his desk, gripping a lazgun in both fat hands. “Get your arse out of my office.”

  Jake kicked out suddenly, sending the desk slamming back into the agent. Bozwell was shoved against the wall, his gunhand hit against a panel and he let go of his weapon.

  Lunging, Jake grabbed him and dumped him down into his chair. “Stay there,” he suggested.

  He backed up, eyes on Bozwell, and crouched beside Marj. “You okay?”

  In a thin, raw voice she managed to reply, “More or less.”

  Nodding, Jake snatched up the fallen lazgun. He thrust his own stungun away and walked close to the seated Bozwell. “Where’s my son?”

  “I don’t even know your frigging name, let alone the current whereabouts of your—”

  “I’m Jake Cardigan. My son’s name is Dan.” He swung the lazgun up and poked it hard into the fat man’s middle. “I want to know where Dan and Nancy Sands were taken.”’

  “I never heard of her either. So you—”

  “Look at me,” requested Jake in a level voice. “I ran out of patience about ten minutes ago. Tell me where my son is.”

  “All right, all right.” The agent was sweating, running his tongue over his upper lip. “You don’t have to act like a frigging maniac.”

  “Who hired your mercenaries?”

  “Outfit calls itself Excalibur.”

  “What were your instructions?”

  “To get Nancy Sands and your boy away from the Tek Kids,” answered Bozwell. “Anybody who stood in the way, we should kill.”

  “How’d they know Nancy was at Buckingham Palace?”

  “They had people hunting for the girl since she ran off. Somebody figured Danny might lead them to her, so they put a tail on him. They followed the kid and he did lead them to her.”

  Jake asked, “Where are they now?”

  “I’m not exactly sure.”

  He poked the gun barrel deeper. “Make a good guess.”

  “Up in the Caribbean Colony satellite,” answered the perspiring fat man. “The Excalibur bunch, they have a hideout there. I also hear maybe Bennett Sands is lying low at the Colony, too. That’s where your kid must be.”

  Jake placed the lazgun on the desk. He drew out his stungun. “Thanks for your help.” He squeezed the trigger and Bozwell slumped into a coma that would last for a full day or more.

  “We’ll have to get up to that satellite as soon as we can,” he said, turning back to Marj.

  She was standing, leaning against a heavy trunk, but her face was pale. “Maybe you’ll have to make that trip without me,” she said, rubbing at the red welts on her throat. “I feel—”

  Her eyes drifted shut and she fell forward into Jake’s arms.

  Marj lived in a cottage in Maida Vale. Her bedroom had a one-way plastiglass wall that gave a view of the small, night-filled garden outside.

  She was sitting up on her circular bed. “I’m fine now, really,” she assured Jake. “And, listen—I’m sorry, Jake, that I sidetracked you.”

  Jake occupied a lucite chair near the bed. “All part of the courteous Cosmos service,” he told her, grinning. “We always see ailing social workers safely home—especially after they’ve been wrestling with androids.”

  She smiled, touching her fingertips to her throat. “I know you must want to get up to the Caribbean Colony right away.”

  “Sure, but I couldn’t have left you lying around on Bozwell’s office floor.”

  “Are you going to tell Scotland Yard that Bennett Sands is probably up there?”

  “Eventually,” he answered. “First, though, I have to get Dan safely away from there.”

  “You’re planning to hit the Colony alone?”

  Jake nodded. “I want to look around before I make a move. I figure I ought to be able to pass for a tourist.”

  “For a while anyway,” she said. “There are several resort hotels there, three or four large casinos, and a great many simulated beaches. Hundreds of tourists go there every day.”

  “Seems likely that some of the major Teklords must control the place.”

  “Yes, that’s near certain. Since they aren’t especially fond of you, and since Sands doesn’t much care for you either, Jake, you’re going to have to be damn careful once you get there.”

  “Soon as you’re feeling better, I’ll head over to the London Spaceport and unobtrusively book passage on the earliest shuttle for the Caribbean Colony.”

  “Oh, I’m perfectly well right now.” Marj edged off the bed and stood. “In fact, I don’t know why I fainted at all.”

  Leaving his chair, he moved to her side. “Better sit down.”

  “No, I ... She hesitated, frowning. Then, reaching out, she took hold of him. “That’s ... funny.”

  “What’s wrong, Marj?”

  “I suddenly feel very unsteady,” she told him in a weak voice. “I saw some zigzags of colored light, too.”

  He guided her back to her bed, set her on it, and then sat close beside her. “Let me phone a medic to—”

  “No, there’s no need for a doctor, really.” She put her arms around him, resting her cheek against his chest. “I hate to admit this, since I’m somebody who braves the worst gang areas of London, but tonight I’m feeling frightened.”

  Jake gently stroked her back. “Everybody feels like that sometimes.”

  “You too?”

  “Sure.”

  Raising her head, she looked into his eyes. Then, leaning, she kissed him. After a moment she asked, “Could you ... stay with me tonight?”

  “Guess I’d better,” he said quietly.

  29

  GOMEZ DECIDED AGAINST WHISTLING.

  He kept his mouth tightly shut as he stepped from the warm lobby of the Louvre Hotel and into the bitterly cold dawn street. A light snow was falling straight down through the frigid morning.

  “There’s a most strange smell in the air, monsieur,” observed the chef, who was f
illing in as bellbot and carrying Gomez’s single suitcase.

  “My coat.”

  The chef glanced over at him. “Ah, oui. So it is. The garment appears to be smoldering.”

  “Does that at highest setting.”

  “Next time you purchase a thermocoat in Paris, monsieur, ask me first. I can send you to a shop where you’ll get—But here comes your landcab.”

  A maroon vehicle was pulling up at the curb. When it halted, a chrome-plated robot in a long tan overcoat stepped out. “You order the Vite Cab?”

  “Yeah,” admitted Gomez.

  The chef stepped forward to turn Gomez’s suitcase over to the cabbie for stowing. His foot hit a patch of snow-covered ice and he went sliding uncontrollably ahead.

  His cap fell off and he stumbled into the robot driver. The suitcase swung up, slamming the cabbie in the groin.

  “Yow,” yelled the robot, hopping back, bumping into his parked cab, bringing both hands up to his crotch.

  “Robots don’t have balls,” realized Gomez. He sent a hand burrowing into his thermocoat and yanked out his stungun.

  The spurious robot was turning toward him, one hand abandoning his crotch to slip into an overcoat pocket for a gun.

  Gomez fired.

  The beam of the stungun took the driver in the left ribs. He gasped, staggered, and fell. His metal head popped off as he hit the paving, revealing the face of a Parisian goon beneath it.

  “Something’s very much amiss,” commented the chef as he struggled to get up.

  “Si,” agreed Gomez.

  From down the dawn street two other louts were running.

  Pausing only to grab his suitcase, Gomez jumped into the driveseat of the landcab.

  Doors flapping, he drove it away down the snowy thoroughfare.

  Jake awakened suddenly.

  The night was gone and gray daybreak was showing at the one-way plastiglass wall of the bedroom.

  Yawning once, he turned to look at Marj.

  She was no longer there beside him.

  He reached over, touching the place where she’d been lying. It was cold.

  Jake sat up, glancing around the room.

  Then he became aware of a faint murmuring. It sounded like two people in conversation somewhere in the cottage.