Creation In Death

Jumpy, Eve thought, rolling her shoulders. Damn chemicals from the energy pills were bouncing around inside her like little springy balls.

“Transmission’s going a little fuzzy on the homer,” Feeney commented, then glanced over at Roarke. “You getting that?”

“I am. A little interference. Could be some stray transmission that bled onto the frequency. Can you clean it up?”

“Working on that. Peabody, you still have her?”

“Yeah. McNab says the beacon’s jumping a little.”

“It’s interference,” Roarke repeated as the signal went in and out. “It’s another transmission, crossing ours. Bloody hell.” He shoved back from his station. “It’s another homer. Another homer on her vehicle. It’s crossed ours now because she’s near or at the base point. He’s tracked her, that’s how he knew to call her in. He knew she was close.”

“Dallas, Dallas, you copy?” Feeney shouted into the receiver. “Dallas, goddamn it. Peabody, move in, move the fuck in.” He leaped up, rushed after Roarke as Roarke ran out of the room. “She knows what she’s doing,” Feeney said as they shoved onto an elevator.

“So does he.”

E ve parked, then moved across the sidewalk. The courtyard gate opened for her. Awfully damn accommodating, she mused, and shifted her shoulders just to feel the weight of her weapon.

“At the door,” she murmured into her receiver and pressed the bell.

The droid opened it. “Lieutenant, thank you for coming. Mr. Klok is in the parlor. May I take your coat?”

“No. Lead the way.”

She’d keep the droid where she could see him, just in case.

The curtains were drawn, the lights low. She could see the figure of a man in a chair near a quiet fire, his foot wrapped with a soft cast and resting on a padded stool.

He had a short brown beard, short brown hair, some bruising around his left eye. “Corpulent” would have been the polite word for him, Eve supposed. Hers would have been “really fat.”

“Lieutenant Dallas?” He had the slightest Germanic accent. “Please pardon me for not getting up. I was clumsy, banged myself up a bit this morning. Please sit down. Can I offer you something? Tea? Coffee?”

“No.”

He offered his hand as he spoke. She moved in to take it. The common gesture would bring her closer, close enough, she judged for her to determine if he was Robert Lowell.

And as she angled herself to look into his eyes, she knew. She shifted, pulling her right hand back to reach for her weapon. “Hello, Bob.”

He only smiled. “No one has ever called me Bob. You saw right through me.”

“Get up. You.” She gestured toward the hovering droid. “If you don’t want your circuits fried, stay exactly where you are.”

“I’m a little hampered,” Lowell said pleasantly. “All this padding, and the cast.”

Eve kicked the footstool away, so his foot thudded on the floor. “On the floor, on your face, hands behind your back. Now.”

“I’ll do my best.” He slid and humped his way off the chair, huffing as he struggled to roll onto his belly.

When she reached down to grab his wrist, to pull his arm behind his back, he turned his hand, closed it over hers.

She felt the prick, cursed. “Son of a bitch tranq’d me.” She aimed her weapon mid-body, fired a stream. Then her legs buckled and sent her to her knees.

“An old method,” Lowell said as he effortfully rolled over. “Often used in assassinations at one time. Just a tranquilizer now, as you said.” He smiled as she slid the rest of the way to the floor. “Very quick acting, of course.”

He sat where he was until he’d unbuttoned the padded suit, pulled it aside. Underneath he wore standard body armor. “I thought, as you’re very skilled, you might fire your weapon. It’s always wise to take precautions. Carry her down to my workroom,” he ordered the droid.

His duplicate droid was already taking her car away, very far away.

“Yes, sir.”

Plenty of time, Lowell thought. When he was certain all was well, he’d call the droid home, replace his hard drive as he would replace this house droid’s memory. As he’d done many times before.

Clean slate.

For now, he gathered the suit, the cast, picked up the weapon Eve had dropped. It was possible she’d called in her intention to stop there. Someone would come, be that the case. But there would be no sign she’d been there.

Her vehicle would be found miles away.

He would have all her communication devices, and all would be shut down.

He would have her, Lowell thought as he started down the steps to his work area. And complete his life’s work.

O utside the house, Peabody stood sick with frustration and dread. She’d called for a battering ram for the door they couldn’t budge, and for laser torches to cut through the riot bars on every window.

Eve was inside, and she couldn’t find a way in.

“You’ve got to override the security.”

“I’m working on it,” McNab said between his teeth as he pulled out every trick he knew. “It’s got backups on its backups. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

They both whirled as a car squealed to a halt in the street. Some of her dread lessened when she saw Roarke and Feeney jump out.

“We can’t get past the system. The place is locked down like a fort.”

“Move aside.” Roarke shoved McNab away, pulled out his own tools.

“Tried the master, tried the override, got my comp to spit out codes. But when you input, they shift to another sequence.”

“It was a Stealth base during the Urbans,” Feeney told Peabody as sweat rolled down his back. “The minute she walked in, all comms were useless. We got the data on the way over. First Robert Lowell had it titled in his wife’s maiden name, ran a branch of the business out of here. More a front during the Urbans.

“Get that damn system down,” he ordered Roarke.

“Quiet and let me work.”

“You don’t get that down, get us inside before he puts hands on her, I’ll be kicking your ass for the rest of my natural life.”

A riel’s eyes tracked to him as he came in behind the droid. “Who is she? Who is she?”

“You could say the last of her breed.” He leaned over the table where the droid laid Eve, went through her pockets for her ’link, her communicator, her PPC. He removed her wrist unit. “Take these and put them into the recycler. Go upstairs, shut down,” he told the droid.

“Well, now.” Gently Lowell brushed a hand through Eve’s hair. “You’ll need to be washed and prepared. Best to do that while you’re sleeping. We’re going to spend some time together, you and I. I’ve been looking forward to it.”

“Are you going to kill me now?” Ariel asked.

“No, no, indeed, your time’s still ru

“She…she looks familiar.”

“Hmm?” Absently, he looked at Ariel again. “Yes, I suppose you might have seen her on some of the media reports. Now-”

“Mr. Gaines!”

He stopped his pivot back to Eve, frowned down at Ariel. “Yes, yes? What’s so urgent? I have work.”

“What…what is the most time? I mean, how long is the longest anyone-any of the women you’ve brought here-has lasted?”

His eyes brightened. “You’re such a delightful surprise to me! Are you challenged? Have I tapped your competitive streak?”

“I can’t…if I don’t know how long, I can’t try to last longer. Will you tell me how long?”

“I can.” With her clutch piece in her hand, Eve sat up on the steel table. “Eighty-five hours, twelve minutes, thirty-eight seconds.”