Part 8 (1/2)
”Then I found out Adler was Sinc's right hand.”
”Right hand? Nothing was said of hive cultures.”
”Huh?”
”One more thing the prelim team will have to answer for. Continue talking. You fascinate me.”
”I kept working on it. What could I do? Morrison was my client, and he was dead. I collected plenty of evidence against Adler, and I turned it over to the cops. Morrison's body never turned up, but I had good corpus delicti evidence. Anyway, Sinc's bodies never do turn up. They just disappear.
”I turned what I had over to the cops. The case was squashed. Somehow the evidence got lost. One night I got beat up.”
”Beat up?”
”Almost any kind of impact,” I told him, ”can damage a human being.”
”Really!” he gurgled. ”All that water, I suppose.”
”Maybe. In my line you have to heal fast. Well, that tore it. I started looking for evidence against Sinc himself. A week ago I sent Xeroxes off to the Feds. I let one of Sinc's boys find a couple of the copies. Bribery evidence, nothing exciting, but enough to hurt. I figured it wouldn't take Sinc long to figure out who made them. The Xerox machine I borrowed was in a building he owns.”
”Fascinating. I think I will make holes in the Lady of Preliminary Investigation!”
”Will that hurt?”
”She is not a-” Gurgle. ”She is a-” Loud, shrill bird whistle.
”I get it. Anyway, you can see how busy I'm going to be. Much too busy to talk about, uh, anthropology. Any minute now I'll have Sinc's boys all over me, and the first one I kill I'll have the cops on me too. Maybe the cops'll come first. I dunno.”
”May I watch? I promise not to get in your path.”
”Why?”
He c.o.c.ked his ear, if that was what it was. ”An example. Your species has developed an extensive system of engineering using alternating current. We were surprised to find you transmitting electricity so far, and using it in so many ways. Some may even be worth imitating.”
”That's nice. So?”
”Perhaps there are other things we can learn from you.”
I shook my head. ”Sorry, short stuff. This party's bound to get rough, and I don't want any bystanders getting hurt. What What the h.e.l.l am I talking about. Holes don't hurt you?” the h.e.l.l am I talking about. Holes don't hurt you?”
”Very little hurts me. My ancestors once used genetic engineering to improve their design. My major weaknesses are susceptibility to certain organic poisons, and a voracious appet.i.te.”
”Okay, stay then. Maybe after it's all over you can tell me about Mars, or wherever you came from. I'd like that.”
”Where I come from is cla.s.sified. I can tell you about Mars.”
”Sure, sure. How'd you like to raid the fridge while we wait? If you're so hungry all the time- hold it.”
Sliding footsteps.
They were out there. A handful of them, if they were trying to keep it a secret. And these had to be from Sinc, because all the neighbors were under their beds by now.
The martian heard it too. ”What shall I do? I cannot reach human form fast enough.”
I was already behind the easy chair. ”Then try something else. Something easy.”
A moment later I had two matching black leather footstools. They both matched the easy chair, but maybe n.o.body'd notice.
The door slammed wide open. I didn't pull the trigger, because n.o.body was there. Just the empty hallway.
The fire escape was outside my bedroom window, but that window was locked and bolted and rigged with alarms. They wouldn't get in that way. Unless- I whispered, ”Hey! How did you get in?”
”Under the door.”
So that was all right. The window alarms were still working. ”Did any of the tenants see you?”
”No.
”Good.” I get enough complaints from the management without that that.
More faint rustling from outside the door. Then a hand and gun appeared for an instant, fired at random, vanished. Another hole in my walls. He'd had time to see my head, to place me. I ran low for the couch. I was getting set again, both eyes on the door, when a voice behind me said, ”Stand up slow.”
You had to admire the guy. He'd got through the window alarms without a twitch, into the living room without a sound. He was tall, olive-skinned, with straight black hair and black eyes. His gun was centered on the bridge of my nose.
I dropped the GyroJet and stood up. Pus.h.i.+ng it now would only get me killed.
He was very relaxed, very steady. ”That's a GyroJet, isn't it? Why not use a regular heater?”
”I like this,” I told him. Maybe he'd come too close, or take his eyes off me, or- anything. ”It's light as a toy, with no recoil. The gun is just a launching chamber for the rocket slugs, and they pack the punch of a forty-five.”
”But, man! The slugs cost a buck forty-five each!”
”I don't shoot that many people.”
”At those prices, I believe it. Okay, turn around slow. Hands in the air.” His eyes hadn't left me for a moment.
I turned my back. Next would be a sap- Something metal brushed against my head, feather-light. I whirled, struck at his gun hand and his larynx. Pure habit. I'd moved the instant the touch told me he was in reach.
He was stumbling back with his hand to his throat. I put a fist in his belly and landed the other on his chin. He dropped, trying to curl up. And sure enough, he was holding a sap.
But why hadn't he hit me with it? From the feel of it, he'd laid it gently on top of my head, carefully, as if he thought the sap might shatter.
”All right, stand easy.” The hand and gun came through the doorway, attached to six feet of clean living. I knew him as Handel. He looked like any blond brainless hero, but he wasn't brainless, and he was no hero.
He said, ”You're going to hate yourself for doing that.”
The footstool behind him began to change shape.
”Dammit,” I said, ”that's not fair.”
Handel looked comically surprised, then smiled winningly. ”Two to one?”