Part 22 (1/2)

It's a lot to a.s.similate, Ingram said, and looked down at his bound arms. I could think better if you untied me.

Is he safe? I asked Marty.

You're still armed?

I held up the trank pistol. More or less.

We could untie him. Under some circ.u.mstances he might make trouble, but not in a locked room, observed, under armed guard.

I don't know, Amelia said. Maybe you ought to wait until he's had the sweetness-and-light treatment. He seems like a dangerous character.

We can deal with him, Mendez said.

It's important to talk with him while he's just had interrogational contact, Marty said. He knows the facts of the matter, but he hasn't been engaged at a deep emotional level.

I suppose, Amelia said. Marty untied him and sat back.

Thank you, Ingram said, rubbing his forearms.

What I'd like to know first is- What happened next was so quick that I couldn't have described it until after I saw the record from the overhead camera.

Ingram s.h.i.+fted his chair slightly, as if half-turning toward Marty as he spoke. Actually, he was just getting leverage and clearance.

In a sudden move worthy of an Olympic gymnast, he twisted out of the chair and up, clipping Marty on the chin with his toe, and then making a complete spin halfway down the table to where I was sitting, the pistol in my hand but not aimed. I got off one wild shot and then he slammed into my chest with both feet, breaking two ribs. He s.n.a.t.c.hed the gun out of midair and shoulder-rolled off the table, landing feet-first with a balletic spin that ended with his foot catching me in the throat as I fell. It was probably intended to kick my brains out, but n.o.body's perfect.

I couldn't see much from my vantage point on the floor, but I heard Marty say Won't work, and then I pa.s.sed out.

I woke up back in my chair, with Megan Orr withdrawing a hypodermic gun from my bare forearm. A man I recognized but couldn't name was doing the same to Amelia-Lobell, Marc Lobell, the only one of the Twenty I hadn't jacked with.

It was as if we'd gone back a few minutes in time and had been given a chance to start over. Everybody was back in their original positions; Ingram safely tied up again. But my chest hurt with every breath and I wasn't sure I could talk.

Meg, I croaked. Dr. Orr? She turned around. Can I see you when this is over? I think he broke a rib or two.

You want to come with me now?

I shook my head, which hurt my throat. Want to hear what the b.a.s.t.a.r.d has to say.

Marc was standing at the open door. Give me half a minute to get situated.

Okay. Megan went over to Ingram, the only one not awake now, and waited.

Observation room next door, Mendez said. Marc watches what's going on and can flood the room with knockout gas in seconds. It's a necessary precaution, dealing with outsiders.

You really can't do violence, then, Amelia said.

I can, I said. Mind if I kick him a few times before you revive him?

We can defend ourselves, actually. I can't imagine initiating violence. Mendez gestured at me. But Julian presents a familiar paradox-if he were to attack this man, there's not much I could do.

What if he attacked one of the Twenty? Marty asked.

You know the answer to that. It would be self-defense, then. He'd be attacking me.

Should I go ahead? Megan asked. Mendez nodded and she gave Ingram his shot.

He came to, instinctively pulling at his bonds, jerking twice, and then he settled back. ”Quick anesthetic, whatever it was. He looked at me. I could have killed you, you know.

Bulls.h.i.+t. You did your best.

You better hope you never find out what my best is.

Gentlemen, Mendez said, we'll agree that you two are the most dangerous people in this room- Not by a long shot, Ingram said. The rest of you are the most dangerous people under one roof in the whole world. Maybe in all of history.

We've considered that viewpoint, Marty said.

”Well, consider it some more. You're going to make the human race extinct in a couple of generations. You're monsters. Like creatures from another planet, bent on our destruction.

Marty smiled broadly. That's a metaphor I hadn't thought of. But all we're really bent on destroying is the race's capability for self-destruction.

Even if that could work, and I'm not convinced it could, what good is it if we wind up being something other than men?

Half of us aren't men to begin with, Megan said quietly.

You know what I mean.

I think you meant just what you said.

How much does he know, I asked, about why this is urgent?

No details, Marty said.

'The ultimate weapon,' whatever that is. We've been surviving ultimate weapons since 1945.

Earlier, Mendez said. The airplane, the tank, nerve gas. But this one's a little more dangerous. A little more ultimate.

And you're behind it, he said, looking at Amelia with an odd, avid expression. But all these other people, this 'Twenty,' know about it.

I don't know how much they know, she said. I haven't jacked with them.

But you will, soon enough, Mendez said to him. Then it will all become clear.

It's a federal offense to jack someone against his will.

Really. I don't suppose they'd be amused about our drugging someone and kidnapping him, either. Then tying him up for interrogation.

You can untie me. I see that physical resistance is futile.

I think not, Marty said. You're just a little too fast, too good.

I won't answer any questions, tied up.