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“If you do, Zapilote will have you shot on the spot. My organization will continue to work without me and he will lose the election. Because of your stupidity. Is that what you want?” He stood there, club raised, trembling, lusting to beat my brains out, but knowing that if he did that he might very well be dead as well. In the end he had to lower it. I nodded approval.
“That’s better. We will now go to see the General-President so I can tell him of a compromise plan that I am sure will please him.” “What is it?” “You will discover that if he permits your presence during our discussion. Call him.” Oliveira was neatly impaled on the horns of a dilemma, and I enjoyed watching him twitch there. He wanted to kill me, or at least to maim me-but he didn’t dare. What I had said about Zapilote was true. In the end he realized that and stamped out of the room, I dropped back into the chair and looked gloomily at the bruises that were begi
I was hauled to my feet. The soldiers formed a solid wall around me as we marched off down the hall, up a stairway, very tiring, and through a number of anterooms to face a pair of large gilt doors. It had armed guards, weapons ready, stationed on each side. We were getting close to the holy of holies. The doors swung wide, my personal bodyguards pushed me forward, staying so close that I had to peek over their shoulders to assure myself that we were indeed in the Presence. The General-President squatted in a chair like a loathsome toad, his bandy arms resting on an immense desk.
“Tell me about this person,” Zapilote said. Still as frogmouthed and ugly as the first time I had met him. If he recognized me as a beardless Harapo he wasn’t letting on.
“He gave his name as General James diGriz,” Oliveira said. “And claims to represent an organization named POOPI...” “I’ll have you shot if you are trying to make bad jokes!” “No, please, it is true your excellency!” I enjoyed watching the colonel sweat and tremble. “There must be some truth in what he says. This Paramilitary Organization of Political Investieation that he talks about could exist. Without a rioiiht hp in an ofiplanet agent. He came here first some months ago disguised as a tourist, to make contact with a traitor organization in Puerto Azul. I had him deported before he could cause any more trouble. He has since returned here illegally and is very high up in the Harapo organization that is causing us... some little problems...” “I will kill Harapo. Hang him. With his own intestines!” “Yes, all of the traitors, every one of them, lots of intestines!” Oliveira slavered. “Guts galore...” “Close your mouth, Oliveira, or you’ll be first.” There was a crackling sound as Oliveira slammed his mouth shut. I think he broke a tooth. Zapilote was glaring at me now, his beady red eyes trying to burn holds through me. “So you work for Harapo. You cause me all kinds of troubles. Now, before I kill you, tell me why you came here.” “To make an agreement with you...” “I do not deal with traitors. Take him out and shoot him.” The soldiers closed in, seizing me. It wasn’t going quite as I had pla
Then the blows struck my head and body, driving me to the ground where the soldiers began to kick me. I was only vaguely aware of Oliveira stopping them, bending over and dragging me to my feet. Soldiers held me tightly; I could barely breathe. Oliveira had his pistol out and the cold muzzle was pushed between my eyes.
“Speak!” he commanded. “One last time before I blow your brains out. Who wants to kill the General-President?” “I do,” I said hoarsely through my bruised throat. “I want to kill him and I have just done so. Don’t you see that scratch on his face, the drops of blood?” Zapilote raised his hand to his cheek and touched it, then looked at the red stain on his fingers.
“You searched me!” I shouted, “But you did not find the weapon. This nail, this fingernail, cut to a point. And coated with four-hour virus. Zapilote has been infected and will be dead within that time. You’re dead now. old man. Dead!”
Chapter 24
As you can well imagine, that made quite an impression on everyone present. Particularly Zapilote. His parchment skin went even whiter and he staggered back clutching at his face. You would think that after having lived for over two centuries he would have had enough of it. He hadn’t. He must have got into the habit. I spoke sharply now, too well aware of the gun against my head.
“You’re dead Zapilote-if you don’t get the antidote in time. Now get this idiot with the gun away from me!” Zapilote staggered forward and reached up to seize Oliveira’s ear, twisting it savagely as he hauled the man aside. The colonel shrieked and dropped the gun-which luckily didn’t go off-and clapped his hands to the now-bloody ear. Zapilote shouldered him aside and stood before me.
“Get him on his knees!” Zapilote ordered, and the soldiers kicked me in the legs and forced me down. He stood before me, glaring down, while his breath rich with garlic and heartburn washed over me. “What about the antidote?” he breathed redolently.
“Only I know where it is. If you receive the injection within three hours you will live. The virus that is now spreading through your bloodstream is unknown on this planet. Your doctors ca
“Tell these men to release me,” I ordered. “They will take 134 these chains off me and then they will leave. The creature Oliveira will stay in order to carry out your commands. Issue your orders.” Zapilote’s voice quavered as he spoke. “The chains dropped away and I dragged myself to a chair and dropped into it. Oliveira stood, dazed, his hands still over his torn ear.
“Here are your instructions, Oliveira. You will get on the telephone at once and issue orders to release the prisoner you captured last night. The prisoner will not be harmed. He will be taken to Harapo’s suit at the Hotel Gran Parajero in Puerto Azul. When he is safely there he will be given a phone number that will co