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He stopped, and three heads nodded, almost in reflex.
CHAPTER 11
INTERVIEW WITH THE HEAD
HE SAW the four men, and be saw Laney stagger. He tried to turn and run, and in that instant there was a godawful clang, a sound like being inside a church bell. He jumped to the side instead, knowing the hall must be full of sonics.
"Shut the damn door!" a voice yelled. One of the guards jumped to obey. Matt felt the, numbness of the sonics, and his knees went watery. He kept his eyes on his four enemies.
One bent over Laney. "All alone," he said. "Crazy. Wonder where she got the clothes?"
"Off a crew, maybe."
Another guard laughed brayingly.
"Shut up, Rick. Come on, lend a hand. Let's get her to a chair."
"A hunting gun. Wouldn't you hate to get shot with this?"
"She came a long way to get to the vivarium. Most of them we have to bring."
The braying laugh again.
"Gas bomb didn't go off." One of the guards kicked a metal canister. Immediately the canister began hissing. "Nose plugs, quick!"
They fumbled in their pockets, produced things that looked like large rubber false noses.
"Good. We should have done this before. If we keep the room filled with gas, anyone who comes charging in will drop right away."
Matt had gotten the message. He'd held his breath from the moment he heard the hiss. Now he walked up to the nearest guard and wrenched his false nose away. The man gasped in surprise, looked directly at Matt, and crumpled.
The false nose had a band to fit around the neck, and some kind of adhesive to form a skin-tight lock around the nose. Matt got it on and found himself breathing through it, with difficulty. It was not comfortable.
"Rick? Oh, that idiot. Where the Mist Demons is his nose plug?"
"I'll bet the jerk forgot to bring it."
"Get me Major Jansen, please." One of the guards was using his handphone. "Sir? A girl just tried to crash the vivarium. Yes, a girl, in crew clothing... That's right, just one... She's sleeping in one of the seats, sir. We figured as long as she'd gone to all that trouble getting here.
Matt still felt dizzy, though the door must be blocking the vibrations of the big sonics. Had he been hit by an u
He bent over Laney. She was out of it, for sure. Punctured by far too many anesthetic slivers, her lungs filled with gas, a rhythmic sleep-inducing current playing through her brain... ?
He found three wires leading to her headset. He pulled them. Now she was a time bomb. When everything else wore off, she'd wake up. More of a firecracker, actually, with four armed guards in the room.
"One more thing, sir. The place is full of gas. It's just as well, we think.
"No, sir', we haven't. If you'll turn off the sonics, I'll look." He turned from the phone. "Watts, check in the hall and see if anybody dropped dead out there."
"But the sonics are still going!"
"They should be off. Try it."
A ballpoint pen peeped from the shirt pocket of the unconscious guard. Matt saw it, snatched it, and drew rapidly: a heart on the guard's forehead, three drops ru
The one called Watts opened the door a crack. No sonic numbness touched him. He opened it farther. "Hey!" He snaked out and ran down the hall toward Fox's body. Matt was on his heels.
"It's a guard," he called back.
"Check the ident." Watts began going through Fox's pockets. He looked up once as Matt sidled past him, then continued with his work.
"It's Elaine Mattson," said Jesus Pietro. "Has to be. You're sure she was alone?"
"If there'd been anyone with her, he would have been in the same condition. I think she was alone, sir."
That made sense. Which was hardly a guarantee, Jesus Pietro thought. "Thank you, Major Jansen. How are the hunting squads doing?"
"They've found nothing, sir. They're still quartering Alpha Plateau. Shall I see how far they've gotten?"
"Yes. Call me back." He hung up and tilted back his desk chair, with a frown wrinkling his forehead.
They had to be somewhere on Alpha. And they couldn't all be attacking the Hospital.
Elaine Mattson, captured. Well and good. She must have set off that mysterious explosion to cover her entrance. Had she also worn that Implementation uniform? It might be. She'd pass at a distance, long enough to knock out a crew woman and get a better disguise.
Maybe. Maybe.
He picked up the sixth dossier, the one lying alone next to the stu
Born twenty-two years ago, firstborn in a family with no known co
Raised on Delta, sector four. Studied at Colony University, with good grades. She'd met Jayhawk Hood there. Her first love affair. Why? Hood would have made a bad gigolo, small, puny, not good-looking--but some girls like a man with a mind.
Finished high school and college, went to work at Delta Retransmitting Station. Affair with Hood had cooled to friendship, apparently. But she'd joined the Sons of Earth. Revolting against authority? Her father would have turned her in, had he known. Look at the lines of disapproval in that ferret face... hmm? Without those lines, he'd look something like Jayhawk Hood!
It all helped. By now she'd been in the coffin cure for thirty hours. If a voice came to her now, the only sensory stimulus in her cosmos, she'd listen. And believe. As others had. Especially if the voice appealed to the right incidents in her past.
But for now she'd have to wait. The Sons of Earth came first. One down, four to go... Jesus Pietro reached for his cup and found the coffee stone cold.
A question touched, his mind. He grimaced, pushed it back to wherever it had come from. He opened his desk-phone and said, "Miss Lauessen, will you order me more coffee."
"Are you sure? You'll be awash with the stuff."
"Just get it. And"--the same thought crawled out into the light, and before he could stop himself--"get me Matthew Keller's file. Not the one on my desk, the one in the dead file."
She came in a minute later, slender and blonde and looking coolly remote, carrying a folder and a pot of coffee. He opened the folder at once. She frowned at him, started to ask something, saw that he wasn't listening, and left.
Matthew Keller. Born... Educated... Joined Sons of Earth tenth month, 2384, in middle age. Why so late? Why at all? Became a professional killer and thief, stealing for the Sons of Earth, killing Implementation officers foolish enough to venture into the colonist regions in insufficient numbers. Thief? Damn! Could Keller senior have stolen that car? The car Keller junior rode straight down into the void! Trapped in Sector 28, Beta, fourth month, 2397; captured, convicted of treason, disassembled for the organ banks. Oh, Jesus Pietro, you clever liar, you. Half the Hospital must know he really went off the edge, forty miles down to Mist Demons and hellfire.
So? Jesus Pietro dumped his cold coffee, into a wastebasket, poured a fresh cup, and sipped.
A flicking shadow somewhere at the corner of his eye. A noise. Someone was in the room. The cup jumped in his hand, searing his lip. He put it down fast and looked around.