Part 15 (1/2)
”Not yet,” replied Colby. ”So I don't want you stuck in sick bay, a high profile target. I'd rather have you moving around and working, not sleeping in your own apartment. I'm putting a decoy guard on your door, and another pair to follow you around, but that might not help.”
Abbot turned to t.i.tus. ”The two centrifuge attendants were knocked out. Expertly. The damage was done very crudely. The a.s.sa.s.sin doesn't know computers or machinery.”
”But he was strong,” added Colby. ”Very, very strong. Ripped out fail-safe boards by force. And clever. Not a clue to his ident.i.ty. We'll not underestimate him again.”
t.i.tus ignored the searing ache in his body. ”I flatly refuse to be put under guard.” Oh, s.h.i.+t. Wrong approach.
”I'm afraid you have no choice-at least until we catch this ”b.a.s.t.a.r.d,” as you so aptly put it.”
t.i.tus went to Colby, summoning all his patience, trying not to think about hunger. ”Carol, look, I don't want to resign over a matter of principle that has nothing to do with my work here. I'll accept a guard on my door. But don't put a tail on me. One of the guards could be the hitman.”
”Brink's? Not likely, but I'm rechecking everyone. t.i.tus, if I you get murdered-especially after this warning-it may as well be me in the coffin. Listen, we have professionals in these matters here and on Earth. You don't have to worry. Your guards will be screened. You're going to be safer than anyone else on the station.”
Inea said, ”I've an idea. Give t.i.tus another apartment for tonight-Abbot's or yours, Dr. Colby, or any vacant one. He'll drop out of sight until the reporters leave, then we can trap the a.s.sa.s.sin using a ringer for t.i.tus.”
Colby ran a hand over her face. ”The timing of this attack was no accident. The terrorists wanted to divert those reporters from anything good we have to show them. And without t.i.tus, the Project would really be crippled. They'd argue it's hopeless to send the probe out at all. If that's their game, they'll attack again while the press is here.”
”Good,” said Inea. ”Then we only have to live with this for a few hours. You can have extra plainclothes guards around during the demonstration in t.i.tus's lab. But leave him alone in the meantime, and he can get lost. This is not a small place, and there's probably only one a.s.sa.s.sin on the station. I mean, how could security have slipped up twice?”
”Well, if there was a vacant apartment. But we're moving people out and tripling up in order to squeeze the reporters in for a night.”
”t.i.tus can have my place for the duration,” offered Abbot. ”I'll take his. n.o.body would mistake me for him.”
Oh, no you don't! He'd never find all the bugs Abbot would leave behind. How am I going to get out of this?
Inea was looking at him strangely. Suddenly, she said, ”For that matter, who'd confuse me with t.i.tus? And it's less remarkable for a woman to invade a man's bedroom-than for another man to just. well, move in. I mean, neither of them has that sort of reputation. Here, switch with me.” She dug her key out of a hip pocket and shoved it at t.i.tus. ”After all, I owe you something for putting my copyright on my program.”
Colby agreed to the plan, but the medics insisted on a battery of tests before letting him go. Colby's parting remark proved she accepted t.i.tus's claim to health. ”I'll expect a full report on my desk in four days-everything you noticed before and during the incident.”
Abbot turned at the door and, cloaking his words, asked, ”You're sure you can handle the humans now?”
”Of course,” he replied cheerfully. ”They got the jump on me when I was unconscious. Thanks for the rescue. I'm in your debt.”
”No.” He shrugged. ”Merely a parent's duty.” He left.
Glumly t.i.tus turned from the closing door. Abbot had only been obeying luren law, keeping humans from discovering too much. There was no affection in him.
t.i.tus couldn't brood over his feelings about Abbot. He had to gather all his strength for the ensuing challenge. The medics weighed and measured him, scrutinized his private parts, poked and prodded and attached electrodes, and made him lie on cold tables while slow scanners floated around him.
All of this had been done countless times before, and if Connie's agents' work on the computer records still stood, the results would be the same this time. But t.i.tus had to stay alert, misdirecting, twisting and averting suspicion. These doctors were no ordinary clinicians. They had worked on luren and orl corpses. The trained medical mind never forgot anything and continually integrated new data.
By now, both doctors were haunted by a nightmarish deja vu when they considered t.i.tus, Abbot, or the aliens. When the Influenced memories finally surfaced, they might well raise a hue and cry. But before then, Abbot will kill them. It was universal luren policy-Tourist and Resident alike. They had to protect their secret or be exterminated. But Residents tried to recruit the suspicious, not kill them-a risk the Tourists found unconscionable.
So t.i.tus labored to convince the doctors they'd found nothing unusual. Contusions and abrasions aside, he was very lucky. And that's all it was-luck.
But their disturbed subconsciouses had to fasten on something, so when they suggested he see the Nutritionist about his Wood pressure and diet, he capitulated, letting them believe they'd done their medical duty. Then they handed him his package with the gold Thermos which he'd left in a gym locker, and escorted him to the Nutritionist.
He regretted it the moment he stepped into the woman's domain. She was a portly, middle-aged expert with a dictatorial stance, and a face like a bull dog. ”I'm Dr. Dorchester, and I've studied your data with great care. I think we can get you off medication in two months if you'll follow my regimen-and stop missing meals.”
She punched her orders into the kitchen computers so his meal card wouldn't bring him any forbidden substances. ”And you've got to increase your calcium intake to one and a half times normal. Do you understand that, t.i.tus?”
”Yes, of course. I will.”
”You're too young for such problems. There's no excuse for it. You're certainly not overweight. So you must eat properly, and get more exercise. Then, as soon as you're off medication, I want you to get out in the solarium, not tanning, just a little sun. But you'll have to be careful despite your complexion. You can get skin cancer.”
”I know.” He listened to her lecture on campus living being too sedentary while campus politics produced too much anxiety. Then he accepted her advice eagerly. When he finally escaped, he was exhausted. He wondered if even Carol Colby could stand up to Dorchester.
Free at last, he made his way to his apartment on rubbery legs. He nodded to the guard who wore the Brink's uniform with the Project Hail patch. Then, hiding the shaking of his fingers, he tucked the Thermos package under one arm and triggered the door signal. Come on, Inea.
The guard said, ”Pardon, Doctor, but I was told-”
”I know. But the object of the game is to be where I'm not expected to be, no?” He rapped on the door, harder than he'd intended. Inea!
”But Brink's doesn't make mistakes-”
”Yes, of course.” His teeth were clenched together, but t.i.tus strove to sound pleasant. ”The lady is home, isn't she?” Her aura was so strong he could taste it.
”Perhaps she's sleeping?” suggested the guard.
Inea opened the door. In her left hand she held the vial of his blood pressure medication which he'd left on the table. In her other hand were several tablets. ”Rip the door off the hinges, why don't you.”
He squeezed past her. ”It's a hatch, not a door.” She shut it and followed him to the kitchenette. ”Why do you always do that? Just when I'm all consumed with sympathy for your plight, you make me crazy mad!”
He splashed water into his pitcher and shoved it into the microwave, then unwrapped the Thermos. ”I'm sorry. I'm a little crazy myself right now.”
As he turned toward her, she stifled an exclamation, then discarded the pills on the table and pulled out the chair. ”Sit down! You're not as well as you were pretending to be, are you? Why did they let you go then?”
He just looked at her.
”Oh,” she said, eyes round. ”Your whammy.”
”I had to get out of there.”
”Well, so I'd figured when I heard what had happened. That's why I bullied my way in. to help you-you-”
”Go ahead, call me names if it will help.” He rummaged in a cabinet for a packet of crystals, fighting off the idea that Abbot was right about the artificial blood. Luren biology demanded more.
She picked up the vial again and toyed with the pills. ”No. I outgrew name-calling years ago. I've had a while to think about this-this ma.s.s of contradictions you've handed me. Maybe you haven't lied to me, but you haven't told me the whole truth, have you? You're scared witless, aren't you?”
She's fis.h.i.+ng. She doesn't know about Abbot. ”Witless? That's not name-calling?”
Wearily, she answered, ”You trying to pick a fight? Because you keep it up, you're going to succeed. I'm only asking you to level with me. Are you afraid-so afraid of something that you'd rather offend me than face it?”
The microwave bleeped, and he fetched the Thermos and dumped in crystals and water. With his back to her, he answered, ”Isn't there any way to get through to you?”
He turned, aware that his face and stance revealed too much. ”I'm not dealing with just ordinary hunger here. I went dormant-as if I'd died. But only for a very little while. Stilla” I'm starving.”