The Centauri Conspiracy

by G Russell Peterman

Chapter Twenty-seven

  Panic

  An hour and a half later, down in the secret seventh level of the basement Bakman and Zee find Woll the Clone pacing the floor with an agitated look on his face. At the sight of a seven minute late Bakman, Woll blurts out, "It can't be done!"

  "What can't be done," Bakman wants to know.

  "Any jobs . . . no more jobs . . . for a while!"

  "Why not?"

  "The police are watching every one—every lab. Independent all-night recorders set up inside and out, wandering patrols moving in the area, and motion sensor inside of every lab"

  "Every lab."

  "Every lab on the planet . . . the U.N. ordered all fertility labs protected. They are catching some serious heat for a recent rash of lab robberies. Information Screens are running stories about evil Cloners involved in black market selling eggs and sperm. The police in every city are out searching places for Cloning Labs. At first, we thought we could just go outside of our first proposed collection area and surprise them. But, every lab on the planet is protected the same way. It is according to a U.N. plan and directive."

  "Have you got a copy of the plan?"

  "Sure."

  "Do their new recorders, motion sensors, and area patrols have a starting time?"

  "Five in the afternoon everything starts when the lab close and end at eight-thirty when lab workers arrive in the morning for work. Each business opens for the day at nine and the police guards can go home and sleep," Woll says sarcastically.

  "Can't disable the system, sweep up the guards, and finish the job?"

  "Everything is temporary. Nothing hooked into the main system and no way to patch into their temporary network. We miss one wire, one patrol changes course, a citizen sees something, and they swoop down and get us all. It's too dangerous, and it would be fool hardy. The only thing we can do is sit and wait until they stop all extra security."

  "We need two and maybe three more Doctor Tjercks tells me."

  "It can't be done. Every night they turn on their private net and send out their patrols."

  "Then, Woll, we have two choices. One is to wait and we don't know how long. The other is to do a robbery during the day when the net is off to save power and the police night shift is home sleeping or on the way home. The rest would be awake. It would have to be between eight-thirty and nine, no later than a quarter-hour after nine, and we hit them all at once."

  "Just take all the workers you mean."

  "No. We have to get a few with their families the night before and the rest before they scatter for the day. This one we do in New Dallas, all labs . . . all three at the same time. Breen and his men will help. Zee and I will go on this one too."

  "It might be possible. I'll have to have my people study the actions of the families of all three labs. One or two in each lab we might have to take the night before to reduce the number transported out. No witnesses left behind. Take the rest of families after the worker leaves for work. In the morning rush no one will pay any attention to a cart of mechanicals in building hallways guided by a mechanical. The one we started to case had six workers in the daytime. We might get by with one or two workers in each lab sending in an early morning single recorded message, ‘I'm sick and not able to come into work today.’"

  "Now, you're starting to think. The only way you could move a group of people during daylight that I can think of is to gas them, slip on domestic mechanical color tunics, put them in racks, and transport them as mechanicals on the way to repair. No one would think twice, not even a policeman, about a hover transport load of mechanicals moving down a causeway or a cargo-transport headed out of the city. It would be just another vehicle transporting legal cargo."

  "That might work. The police are looking for hover buses anyway; we could move down hallways and freight elevators in daylight easier with a rack of domestics. Our people get inside a lab, or apartment, during daylight on a rack like a mechanical delivery, gas the workers in the lab, and haul them to the lab’s rear freight elevator and down to the nearest causeway. Our people would have to be disguised as service mechanicals too. We could that way, if the elevator is out of service, go out the front door with the gassed workers lying on racks dressed in mechanical gray tunics."

  "Do the same to families. It takes fewer people. Load them in a Cargo Transport like mechanicals again with the children and old people on the inside of the load. Is them being gassed going to cause any problems later in getting them to the Silo?" Bakman wonders out loud.

  "No. I’ll just need a few more people later, a couple of hover-lifts, to unload and load. I'll need a few more people in the gathering operation and with Breen's we might get the job done. It will take sometime to study the habits of families and workers. I'm glad New Dallas only has three labs I hope they all have a freight elevator inside. We won't get in a hurry on this one," Woll the Clone explains.

  Bakman knew that any pressure and it was no more lab robberies. Even so, he also knew that Woll was taking a huge risk. Bakman walked over to a closet, slid his card down the slot, and opened the door, stepped inside to pickup a full box of books from a stack of three boxes, and carried a full box outside. Bakman pointed at the full box, thirty-six books the outside printing label said, and Bakman told Woll, "Unusual risk means a higher price so for these three jobs and transport for this one box of books . . . Okay."

  Woll nods, walks over, picks up the box of books, and speaks over his shoulder as he walks to the elevator. "I'll get my people busy on it. I'll call Breen when I have something." Then, the elevator door closed behind Woll.

  Bakman looks at the clock display to wait three minutes before going up. When he steps toward the hallway Zee walks with him.

  Suddenly, Breen’s face fills the conference room screen. “Bakman, I’ll contact Woll. I’ll have two families for emergency transport tonight. One, a cousin, stationed at front freight elevator security and the other, a niece of a former deceased worker, worked in the warehouse where the meeting was held. Must have used some kind of signaling device but it wasn’t in the warehouse. We’ll look at her place tonight. My guess is it’s in a piece of jewelry. My teams will gather both families and transport. You know how and why . . . hope your head has stopped buzzing. Hope you’re okay. Talk to you tomorrow at ten-thirty . . . Breen out.”