Now, under ordinary circumstances, Halpern would finish his meal with Lynx and they’d go on their merry way, but he had more than a few glasses of wine behind him and he was feeling particularly courageous; perhaps too much for his own good. He stood up from his chair, asked Lynx to excuse him and went the twenty or so feet over to where Dr. Berdinka was sitting.
—Susanna, he said, getting her attention. He cleared his throat and tried to strike a tone of détente, but the effort fell shy. Susanna, he went on. No hard feelings. I hope we can still be friends.
Dr. Berdinka turned white. She stood up, drink in hand, and heaved the contents in Halpern’s face. She grabbed her sweater from her seat, turned and marched out of the restaurant. Halpern stood for a moment, stunned and coated in what he would later consider to be surprisingly good gin.
Lynx wouldn’t let this minor incident ruin her evening, and as they made their way back to Halpern’s room, her mood swung from joyful to giddy, and Halpern attributed her buoyant spirit to a combination of cheap wine and her admiration for his rank and sophistication. Once inside his quarters Lynx was impressed. She tiptoed into the room and with a half turn she threw out her arms. Halpern activated a control with his VI and his office couch slowly transformed itself into a freshly made bed, and Lynx fell onto it and rolled over a few times, laughing as she did.
—Can I get you another drink, Halpern said as he sat down next to her and ran his hand up and down her thigh. She pulled him close and pressed her mouth against his. She fumbled a little as she attempted to remove his clothing, button by button, before Halpern took her hands in his.
—Please, I would like another drink, he said, and I hope you’ll join me in the hot tub to start things off. Come.
Halpern led her to the Jacuzzi, which had already started to bubble and churn.
—Make yourself comfortable and I’ll be right back, he said before turning to raid the kitchenette for a couple of glasses and a bottle of chilled champagne. He removed the cork and measured out the drinks and then he stopped at his desk where he removed his watch and set it out of the way. He then returned to the bathroom where Lynx was already naked and immersed in the roiling tub.
—You’ve read my mind, he said as he dimmed the lights with his VI. He offered the Martian woman a glass and then he set his own glass down and shed his clothes before joining her in the hot bath. Her hair danced and spiraled on the bubbles and Halpern could feel her legs as they reached out and began to coil around him like hungry tentacles. The edge of their glasses met and they sipped their champagne and Halpern allowed her to move in closer so that she could fasten her lean body to his. He felt her fingers riding down his stomach. He was hard now and she took him in her hand. Their lips moved together and Halpern leaned back and took a long and deep breath. His scar was twitching. It would be fed, he knew.
Then something happened…
An alert flashed over ESCOMnet on Halpern’s VI. It was an emergency notification from Frank Dendede: topic—Asimios. Halpern blinked a couple of times in disbelief and then mulled over the importance of the alert. With little effort, he opened the packet, but the churning water and Lynx’s touch and her shower of kisses prevented him from concentrating on the full text. He held up his hand and reluctantly asked her to wait.
—Excuse me for a moment, um, Lisa…but I have to take this. High level stuff, really.
Halpern touched Lynx’s matted wet hair as he stood up from the water. He was still hard as he turned away to focus on the message and then that’s when he felt it…a quick snap around his neck and in an instant he was lifted from his feet and dragged backward into the tub.
After the initial shock, Halpern quickly understood that this wasn’t some sort of sex game and that his relationship with Lynx had taken an unexpected turn. In his universe of hot foam and water, Halpern realized that he had only seconds to act. If he could get her slightly off balance, he thought, he could slide a finger between the wire and his neck and perhaps steal a breath…but everything depended on which way he turned. As the wire dug deeper, he cut the lights to the room and swiveled with such force that he spun his attacker around so that she was now on her back beneath him. In an instant he’d forced a finger under the wire and, just an inch above the surface, he gasped for what air he could while he wheeled the sharp end of his elbow around several times against the side of the girl’s head. The garrote loosened, but only slightly, but it allowed Halpern the opportunity to squirm himself halfway out of the tub with water sloshing over the edge and onto the floor.
Leveraging the weight of his body, Halpern was able to lift the slender woman behind him so that she emerged, gasping through her clenched teeth with an icy determination that was strangely out of character for someone so previously dulcet and impressionable. In the pitch-black room the garrote bit deeper into his throat and Halpern began to feel faint, so with every ounce of effort, he lifted her clear of the water and stumbled blindly into the darkness. Seizing the chance, the Martian knit her legs around his waist and began to ratchet up the tightness of the wire and Halpern felt the strength leave him.
As fortune would have it, he slipped on the wet tile. As he fell backwards, the woman struck her head on a stone step, and when they were together on the floor, Halpern was able to strip the wire free from his neck and gasp for air. He paused between inhalations. The only sound was the bubbling Jacuzzi.
Was it over? He crawled in the direction of the door where he was able to prop himself up and take a few more gulps of air. Was she dead? He turned on the lights, and to his surprise, she appeared at the side of the tub, naked and beautiful, her hand extracting some kind of steel pike from her handbag. Just as she was about to lunge in his direction he cut the lights again and fell backwards into the office.
Austin Halpern never really enjoyed the idea of physical altercation. It had its place in the interrogation room, but the thought of settling accounts through blows was not his style. His trade involved handshakes, mostly, and the smoothing over of intricate, transnational business dealings. Fending off a naked and deranged woman was not in the official ESCOM playbook. The company provided bodyguards for that sort of thing. Right now, though, Halpern’s main objective was to reach his desk, remove the pistol from its drawer, and fill this cobra’s abdomen with rail rounds. He knew the floor plan of his office. His chances were greatest if he worked in the dark.
His assailant was in mid-lunge when Halpern cut the lights and he rolled out of the way, but not completely clear, and he cringed as the pike entered the soft part of his waist. He surprised himself by just how loudly he screamed. As he pulled free, he felt the steel exit his body, and before she was able to deliver a second thrust he managed to roll away so that the sharp point only tore a surface wound near the back of his knee.
Halpern had vision augmentation with his VI, but he’d rarely used the feature and to go through a tutorial at this time seemed a bit reckless. Instead, Halpern slithered across the carpet on his belly, trying to keep as quiet as possible, while he prepared to make a break for his desk. He did make it a short distance and was about to stand when he felt the pike again. This time it came at his side and hung up on one of his ribs. As quickly as he tried to get away, another thrust hit home and buried the steel tip into his spine. The thrust must have hit a lung, Halpern thought, but on he went, fumbling and bleeding and delirious in an effort to reach his gun. He made it a few more yards, the sensation of perforation wounds suffusing his skin, but the more the steel entered his flesh, the less he seemed to feel it.
In the dark, Halpern met his desk with full force and the collision sent him reeling. In the painful chaos, he was still able to reach for the drawer and once his fingers found the handle he pulled it out with such agency that it broke free from its mounts and sent its contents spilling out around him. Halpern could feel the woman’s deadly hand as she groped his body…in search of the final target. Then Halpern felt something cold against his skin. He reached down and grasped th
e rail gun and in an instant removed the safety. Just as the pike entered his chest, he discharged the weapon. There was a loud report and then quite. He could feel the weight of his assassin as she balanced over him on his stomach. She hadn’t moved. In fear, Halpern turned on the lights and saw immediately that she had been hit in the face with the round. She was dazed and dissociated as she leveled the pike on him for one last thrust and BANG went the gun and a red hole opened in her head before she crumpled down over his body.
Under the light now, Halpern saw that he was bathed in blood; most of it was his own. He wasn’t breathing very well as he let the gun slip from his fingers. He pushed the woman’s glistening body to the side, and when she was face down on the floor he noticed a tattoo on her left shoulder blade. He leaned in to inspect the image of a serpent swallowing its tail. The serpent was coiled around a long sword. Then, as his VI lit up with a live call from Dendede, Halpern felt something beneath his arm. It was his Swiss watch.
—I hope this isn’t too late, Dendede said as Halpern opened the call. I’m sorry, sir, but this is rather urgent.
Halpern’s breathing was shallow. He spoke in a broken whisper.
—No, Frank, Halpern said. Go on.
—It’s Asimios, sir. We’ve just received a transmission from Asimios.
—Oh? Halpern said as he raised his watch to look at it.
—The wormhole has opened up again, sir.
—Oh?
—How would you like to proceed?
The crystal was shattered and the hands were bent and the dial had a hole in it the diameter of the pike. He brought the watch to his ear.
—Frank, Halpern said.
—Yes, sir?
—Can you call me a medic? I think I broke my watch…
7
Ernesto Lopez-Larkin gazed through the large window overlooking Elliot Bay and the city of Seattle. A late morning haze was suspended in the air, and the gantry cranes, their ghoulish hands suspended high over the water, were poised to reach out and claw the massive container ships into their sepulchral ports.
Ernesto had been on a bar-crawl the night before. While out with friends he had consumed five shots of bourbon and at least as many beers, and he was in the process of ridding himself of the consequent cobwebs. He listened to his heartbeat as it fluttered against his ribs. He took a sip from his quadruple soy latte and adjusted his tie. He smoothed back his hair and then returned to his seat next to a tall green fern that leaned out into the room. He brought up his VI and ran through his messages. He typed out a few sentences here and there on his V-pad so as to appear alert and functional to passersby. A short time later a man entered through the glass door at the end of the hall.
Could this be him? Ernesto wondered. Could this be the infamous Halpern of Phobos?
The man was dressed in black—stooped in some strange way—and he threw out a walking cane before him, like a climber testing the ice for integrity. The man’s left arm hung limp at his side, and his left leg, bandaged under loose slacks, was heaved stiffly along to keep pace with the other. He was somewhat older than Ernesto had expected. His head was shaved and a pair of thin, brown eyebrows cut abrupt lines above two hawkish green orbs. As the man approached, Ernesto noticed that his face was slightly disfigured. On his right cheek, travelling from the corner of his eye to his mouth, was a fresh, pink scar.
Ernesto leapt to attention. He gave a slight bow and offered his hand.
—Mr. Halpern? he said.
—And you are?
—Ernesto Lopez-Larkin, sir.
—And what purpose do you serve, Mr. Lopez-Larkin, Halpern said as he reluctantly took Ernesto’s hand.
—I am your introduction, sir.
—My introduction? That’s it?
—Well, I’m here to help you feel at home, sir. If I understand it correctly, this is your first time at the new ESCOM HQ.
—It is.
—If you need anything, sir, I’m here to facilitate.
—That’s good, Mr. Larkin. What’s your story?
Ernesto straightened his tie and cleared his throat. Been here at ESCOM for about four years, he said. Stanford MBA, and Pepperdine as an undergrad.
—I see. So they’ve got their hooks in you, eh?
—Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, sir.
—You’re either dumber than you look or you’re far too smart for your own good.
Ernesto grinned.
—And you smell like a distillery.
Ernesto lowered his eyes and cleared his throat again.
—Is this my office? Halpern said as he swung his cane around and pointed it in the direction of the corner door.
—It is, sir.
—My bag is in the hallway. Bring it to me, please.
—Yes, sir.
Austin Halpern hobbled past the young man, jimmied with the door handle and then entered the bright room. He paused for a moment—took measure of the office—and then went to the window where he looked out over the bay and at the spires of Seattle and at Mt. Rainier emerging high above the horizon to the southeast. Down below, in the brackish water, a pod of orcas was playing in the wake of a giant rust-colored cargo ship. Halpern looked upon this scene with a combination of nostalgia, joy and trepidation, as if he were looking through the lens of a distant dream. Seattle was where he had built his career, after all. This is where he had led his consulting firm to its elite status, and this is where ESCOM had later purchased it and made it one of the arms of its global expansion. Through Avery Graf, he had met and married Esther here, and this is where Esther had given birth to Nava. But that was long ago. A lifetime ago, it seemed. These thoughts were bittersweet, of course, for all things change.
Halpern turned away from the window and scanned his VI for any new packets and then lurched over to the brown leather couch that was pushed up against a wall. He lowered himself lengthwise onto the seat so that he could elevate his injured leg. Soon Ernesto returned with his bag and Halpern instructed him to place it near his desk.
—I’m supposed to remind you that your meeting with President Carrera is at one o’clock, the assistant said.
—I know, I know, Halpern said as he leaned back into the couch with a wince.
—Are you in pain, sir? Can I get you anything?
—No, thank you. But I do have a question for you…
—Yes, sir?
—Why do I frighten you?
—I don’t know what you mean, sir?
—You’ve been shaking like a leaf since I arrived. It’s making me rather uncomfortable.
—It’s just that you have a bit of a reputation, sir.
Halpern looked over at Ernesto. I do? he said.
—Um… Well, yes. It’s just that people are a little bit afraid of you, is all.
—Ah-ha.
—People have this idea that you’re kind a bit hard on your underlings. It’s not that that is necessarily a bad thing, in my perspective. Everyone has his or her management style, and yours, I’m guessing, is one on the more autocratic end of the spectrum. Not that that’s bad…
—Excuse me.
—Sorry, sir. Yes?
—So, if I’m to be feared, as you say, why did you volunteer to be my assistant? Why subject yourself to the misery?
—Well, sir, Ernesto said as he backed up a few steps and lowered himself slowly into a chair not far from Halpern. I’ve been trying to understand ESCOM in respect to systems analysis. In a sense, I’m experimenting with my own internal audit, from an operations standpoint, if you will, on how ESCOM hierarchical structure can adapt, vis-à-vis, evolving competitive exigencies. In other words…
—Enough!, Halpern said. You’re giving me a headache.
—Sorry, sir. I just…
—No, no. Tell me the real reason why you’re here.
Ernesto sat still for a moment. He bit at the corner of his cheek. Well, now that you’re back on Earth, there are rumors going around that you’re next in line for the pres
idency. I guess I enjoy being where the action is.
Halpern raised an eyebrow and peered at the assistant. So they’re saying I’m next in line, are they? he said.
Ernesto leaned forward and nodded. That’s what I’ve heard, he said. Now whether they’re true or not is a matter of interpretation, but I’m hedging my bets.
Halpern laughed. Oh, this is rich! he said.
Ernesto grew serious. He leaned in to ask his next question.
—Is it true that you were nearly killed on Phobos, sir? Is it true that Martian separatists have infiltrated ESCOM and that you were attacked by one of their agents?
Halpern paused. He raised his hand and carefully pulled down the high collar of his sweater so that Ernesto could see the scar running across the manager’s throat. Ernesto looked slightly disappointed.
—Mr. Larkin, Halpern said. I’m going to need a lot of help over then next few days, and I hope you’re up to the task.
Ernesto leaned back in his chair.
—But I’ll need you to be one hundred percent present. No hangovers. If I smell booze on your breath or if I think you’re not at the top of your game, you’ll never work at ESCOM again. Am I clear?
—Yes, sir.
—Now, I need to rest here for a little while. I need to shut my eyes. Come and get me at one o’clock.
Beyond Asimios: Book One Page 15
