Part 18 (2/2)
Richter smoldered.
”You can't be surprised, Richter. Did you think that I would speak with you via an unsecured telephone line if I were going to say anything else?”
”No,” Richter said. He tried to keep the anger out of the word and did not succeed.
The tone of his superior's voice became consoling. ”Sometimes the simplest-looking jobs turn out to be the most complicated, my friend. This one wasn't your type, anyway. Come home, and I promise something good for you. You aren't so old that we're putting you out to pasture. There's an individual representing a certain foreign company who has been taking advantage of the current social disorder to engage in unfair business practices. You may be able to persuade him to desist. Yes?”
Richter almost said ”Yes,” but stopped himself.
You aren't so old that we're putting you out to pasture.
It was a lie, but it contained the truth.
They weren't going to give him a sanction when he had failed at an apprehension. An operative only failed once, and then he was no longer an operative. Usually that was because he was dead, but there were a few who survived and were merely considered incompetent.
”Problem,” Richter said. His throat began hurting.
”What is it?”
”Leg's hemorrhaging. Request two days recuperation.”
There was a long silence. At last his superior said, ”Very well. We'll a.s.sign another man to the business problem. I a.s.sume you'll be coming home for your R and R.”
”No. Possible concussion. Dizziness. Don't want to fly until it's gone.”
Another silence. ”Your order to return home will be in force in forty-eight hours.” The line clicked.
Richter hung up the phone. Whatever happened now, his career was over. His life was over.
They had done it to him. Vale. The woman. The dog.
The dog that could catch bullets in its teeth and spit them out again.
Richter didn't care. n.o.body did to him what they had done. n.o.body made him look like a fool.
He limped down the hall to Emergency and struggled through the packed bodies again. He had paid the men in the tow truck quadruple their usual rate in exchange for a promise that they would replace the Jaguar's blown tires and bring the car to the Emergency parking lot. He found that they had fulfilled thatpromise.
Richter slid behind the wheel and sat for a few minutes until the throbbing in his leg subsided to a tolerable level. Then he reached under the seat and took his weapon and shoulder holster from the compartment where he had hidden them. He removed the pistol from the holster, ejected its ammunition clip, and checked the action. Then he replaced the clip and started the Jaguar.
Amphetamines would not relieve his fatigue now, so he would take some time to recuperate, just as he had said he would.
But not much.
CATHY AND JEREMY.
Jeremy sat on his haunches in the pa.s.senger seat of the Datsun and scratched himself behind an ear. ”We should've had this car fumigated when we bought it,” he said.
”Which way at the next light?” Cathy said, holding her nose with one hand and steering with the other.
The stench of crude oil was heavy even thought it was Sunday morning.
”Left,” Jeremy answered. ”Past the refinery.”
”Wonderful,” Cathy muttered, taking the corner and accelerating.
”Sorry. This is the way Ringo went.”
Cathy's eyebrows rose. ”I just had a thought. Can you see where he is now?”
Jeremy closed his human-eye and opened the other. ”He's caught up with Vale again. He's lying among some trees and watching the house where Vale's hiding.”
”Great. Let's buy a road map and justgo there. There's got to be a more direct route.”
Jeremy shook his head. ”I can see what Ringo sees, so in one sense I know where he is-but I don't knowwhere he is. I couldn't even figure out his current location by trying to trace his route on a map, because he doesn't care about north or south, east or west. He just follows the motorcycle and occasionally looks at the scenery. So the scenery's all I've got to go by.”
They came up on the oil refinery tower, its flame burning bright orange in the gray dawn. Cathy shuddered. ”How can they stand it? All these odors flooding their senses for their entire lives....”
”Human beings can get used to anything.” Jeremy stiffened as he spoke and looked to the east.
”What?” Cathy asked. ”What's wrong?”
”Pull onto the shoulder and stop.”
Cathy did so, then looked out to see what Jeremy saw. ”Can you feel them?” he asked.
She nodded. ”I knew they were here somewhere, but the stink kept my senses occupied.”
”So this is SkyVue,” Jeremy said.
”Not an impressive place.”
”Impressive enough. Read the marquee.”
Cathy did, and grimaced. ”Bill w.i.l.l.y? Here? Are the pro-fles.h.i.+estrying to defeat themselves?”
”Sort of looks that way. Should we drop in and say h.e.l.lo?”
Cathy steered the Datsun onto the road again. ”Why? To gloat? With all that's happened in the past two days, our point's been proven. The fleshbound peoples of Earth aren't ready for the responsibility of noncorporeality. All that you and I have to do now is see to it that Vale remains unharmed, and our consciences are clear.”
”What about the rest of the world?” Jeremy asked. ”A lot of people besides Vale stand to get hurt.
Some already have been.”
Cathy jerked her left thumb at the receding drive-in theater. ”That's the responsibility of our two cousins back there. The only part of it that you and I have had anything to do with is Vale. And he's going to be fine. Right?”
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