[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Now Reine sought to bat at the thing, but its head was already inside the protective suit. He felt
it reach his skin.
Ahh! It s biting me! Get it off!
Dryner reached for the thing s tail, but his gloved hands slipped on the gore that coated it. It
moved away from his touch, pulling more of itself into Reine s suit.
Help! Help me! Aahh! Oww!
The tech with the catch net grabbed Reine, but the doctor twisted away from him in panic. In
his fear, he tried to run from what was attacking him.
The inner hatch had not cycled closed. Reine ran for it.
Louis, no! You ll breach isolation!
Reine was beyond hearing, beyond caring. The only thing that mattered was that this thing was
eating into him, burning like molten metal!
Stop him! Dryner yelled.
The tech reached for Reine, missed. Got in Dryner s way. They tangled, fell.
Dryner scrambled up, in time to see Reine clear the inner lock, lunge for the outer lock s
control.
Freeze the door controls! Dryner yelled.
Too late. Reine pounded on the emergency override. The outer door slid wide. He staggered
out into the hall.
Isolation was blown.
Dryner ran after his boss, yelling for him to stop.
Kill it, kill it! Reine screamed.
The security guards pulled their guns.
No! Dryner yelled. Don t shoot it!
The guard looked confused.
Shoot him in the head! Dryner commanded.
Now the guards really looked puzzled.
Do it!
The guards didn t move. Reine started to run. He might damage the specimen!
Dryner moved. He grabbed a gun from the nearest guard, who didn t try to stop him. Raised
the weapon. Dryner had been a champion pistol shot while in college. Could have gone to the
Olympics if he d worked at it harder. He hadn t fired a gun in years, but the old reflexes were still
there. Reine was only ten meters away. Dryner put the red dot square on the middle of the fleeing
man s cleansuit helmet, took a deep breath, let part of it out, held it, and squeezed the trigger
carefully, so as not to pull his aim off. At twelve meters now, it was an easy shot.
Reine s head shattered. He fell.
Dryner lowered the weapon. Sorry, Louis, he said. But you were the one who said how
valuable the alien was. We can t chance hurting it.
The guards and techs stared at him.
Now, he said, bring the catch net.
He still had the gun. They all moved very fast.
And in the end, they didn t even need the net. Apparently the thing liked where it was. Good.
That made it even easier.
16
Pindar the holotech lay on a table with a pressor field holding him down. He could turn his
head, but that was about it. Since he was a tech, he knew how a pressor field worked, knew also it
was impossible for an unaugmented man to break free of one. Even an expendable android built for
short-term bursts of strength would have trouble with a functional pressor field, maybe it could
escape, maybe not. That was an academic question, in any event. He wasn t going anywhere.
Two men in pearl-gray uniforms stood near the table, looking down at Pindar. The uniforms
identified them as TIA, members of the Terran Intelligence Agency, and that was bad. Very bad.
T-bags didn t stir themselves for menial crimes, only those that might threaten the security of the
planet itself.
Pindar was in trouble, aprieto mucho, and he knew exactly why. Salvaje. After the last time
with the man, Pindar had done some investigating on his own. He had stumbled across something he
shouldn t know, something so terrifying he wanted to block it from his memory. And now, TIA had
stumbled across him. He had known it was coming and he knew there was no way out.
One of the agents, a kindly looking man who could be somebody s grandfather, smiled at
Pindar. He said, Son, we have some questions we need answers to, if you don t mind.
The other agent, a lean, hatchet-faced young man with chocolate-colored skin, said, You
understand that we have full authority to question you in any manner in which we choose?
Pindar licked dry lips. Si. Yes, I understand. Here it was. The beginning of the end. Adios,
Pindar. Any way you look at it, you lose.
Good, Grandfather said. He put a small plastic case upon the table next to the platform upon
which Pindar lay. Opened the case. Removed from it a pressure syringe and a small vial of reddish
fluid. Loaded the vial into the injector.
I I there is no need for that, Pindar said. He hurried to get the words out. I will answer
your questions! I will tell you everything!
Hatchet-face grinned, showing teeth that were too perfect to be natural. Vat-grown implants,
had to be. Oh, we know that, Senor Pindar. But this will save us all a lot of worry about how
truthful your answers will be.
Grandfather leaned over Pindar, pressed the injector against the big artery in the tech s neck.
Touched the firing stud. There was a small pop! and Pindar felt an icy rush begin in his throat,
swelling to fill his head with coldness. Dios!
Hatchet-face looked at his chronometer. Three. Four. Five. That s it.
Pindar felt the cold in his head change into a pleasant, muzzy warmth. It was okay. In fact, it
was better than okay. He couldn t recall when he had felt so wonderful. His earlier worries
evaporated like dew in the hot sunshine. Why, if he wanted to, he could get up off this table and leap
into the air and fly like a bird! He didn t want to do that, though, he just wanted to lie here and visit
with these nice men, Grandfather and Hatchet-face. After all, it was easy to see that they were his
friends, and they cared deeply for him, and that anything he could do for them he should do,
immediately.
Feel good? Grandfather asked.
Yeah!
That s great. Mind if we ask you a few questions?
Why no, Grandfather, not at all!
Grona leaned back in his chair. The TIA agent across from him wasn t wearing the pearl-gray
uniform as regulations said he must while on duty, but there was no doubt about his identity. Shall I
run it? he asked. Orona nodded. I hope you re wrong about this.
They don t pay us to be wrong, Doctor. Sorry. The agent touched a control on the
holographic projector on Orona s desk. The air shimmered and the picture flowered. A close view
of a man on a pressor table, smiling as if drugged.
Tell us again, a voice off camera said. Just like before.
Sure, the man on the table said. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl akte20.pev.pl
Now Reine sought to bat at the thing, but its head was already inside the protective suit. He felt
it reach his skin.
Ahh! It s biting me! Get it off!
Dryner reached for the thing s tail, but his gloved hands slipped on the gore that coated it. It
moved away from his touch, pulling more of itself into Reine s suit.
Help! Help me! Aahh! Oww!
The tech with the catch net grabbed Reine, but the doctor twisted away from him in panic. In
his fear, he tried to run from what was attacking him.
The inner hatch had not cycled closed. Reine ran for it.
Louis, no! You ll breach isolation!
Reine was beyond hearing, beyond caring. The only thing that mattered was that this thing was
eating into him, burning like molten metal!
Stop him! Dryner yelled.
The tech reached for Reine, missed. Got in Dryner s way. They tangled, fell.
Dryner scrambled up, in time to see Reine clear the inner lock, lunge for the outer lock s
control.
Freeze the door controls! Dryner yelled.
Too late. Reine pounded on the emergency override. The outer door slid wide. He staggered
out into the hall.
Isolation was blown.
Dryner ran after his boss, yelling for him to stop.
Kill it, kill it! Reine screamed.
The security guards pulled their guns.
No! Dryner yelled. Don t shoot it!
The guard looked confused.
Shoot him in the head! Dryner commanded.
Now the guards really looked puzzled.
Do it!
The guards didn t move. Reine started to run. He might damage the specimen!
Dryner moved. He grabbed a gun from the nearest guard, who didn t try to stop him. Raised
the weapon. Dryner had been a champion pistol shot while in college. Could have gone to the
Olympics if he d worked at it harder. He hadn t fired a gun in years, but the old reflexes were still
there. Reine was only ten meters away. Dryner put the red dot square on the middle of the fleeing
man s cleansuit helmet, took a deep breath, let part of it out, held it, and squeezed the trigger
carefully, so as not to pull his aim off. At twelve meters now, it was an easy shot.
Reine s head shattered. He fell.
Dryner lowered the weapon. Sorry, Louis, he said. But you were the one who said how
valuable the alien was. We can t chance hurting it.
The guards and techs stared at him.
Now, he said, bring the catch net.
He still had the gun. They all moved very fast.
And in the end, they didn t even need the net. Apparently the thing liked where it was. Good.
That made it even easier.
16
Pindar the holotech lay on a table with a pressor field holding him down. He could turn his
head, but that was about it. Since he was a tech, he knew how a pressor field worked, knew also it
was impossible for an unaugmented man to break free of one. Even an expendable android built for
short-term bursts of strength would have trouble with a functional pressor field, maybe it could
escape, maybe not. That was an academic question, in any event. He wasn t going anywhere.
Two men in pearl-gray uniforms stood near the table, looking down at Pindar. The uniforms
identified them as TIA, members of the Terran Intelligence Agency, and that was bad. Very bad.
T-bags didn t stir themselves for menial crimes, only those that might threaten the security of the
planet itself.
Pindar was in trouble, aprieto mucho, and he knew exactly why. Salvaje. After the last time
with the man, Pindar had done some investigating on his own. He had stumbled across something he
shouldn t know, something so terrifying he wanted to block it from his memory. And now, TIA had
stumbled across him. He had known it was coming and he knew there was no way out.
One of the agents, a kindly looking man who could be somebody s grandfather, smiled at
Pindar. He said, Son, we have some questions we need answers to, if you don t mind.
The other agent, a lean, hatchet-faced young man with chocolate-colored skin, said, You
understand that we have full authority to question you in any manner in which we choose?
Pindar licked dry lips. Si. Yes, I understand. Here it was. The beginning of the end. Adios,
Pindar. Any way you look at it, you lose.
Good, Grandfather said. He put a small plastic case upon the table next to the platform upon
which Pindar lay. Opened the case. Removed from it a pressure syringe and a small vial of reddish
fluid. Loaded the vial into the injector.
I I there is no need for that, Pindar said. He hurried to get the words out. I will answer
your questions! I will tell you everything!
Hatchet-face grinned, showing teeth that were too perfect to be natural. Vat-grown implants,
had to be. Oh, we know that, Senor Pindar. But this will save us all a lot of worry about how
truthful your answers will be.
Grandfather leaned over Pindar, pressed the injector against the big artery in the tech s neck.
Touched the firing stud. There was a small pop! and Pindar felt an icy rush begin in his throat,
swelling to fill his head with coldness. Dios!
Hatchet-face looked at his chronometer. Three. Four. Five. That s it.
Pindar felt the cold in his head change into a pleasant, muzzy warmth. It was okay. In fact, it
was better than okay. He couldn t recall when he had felt so wonderful. His earlier worries
evaporated like dew in the hot sunshine. Why, if he wanted to, he could get up off this table and leap
into the air and fly like a bird! He didn t want to do that, though, he just wanted to lie here and visit
with these nice men, Grandfather and Hatchet-face. After all, it was easy to see that they were his
friends, and they cared deeply for him, and that anything he could do for them he should do,
immediately.
Feel good? Grandfather asked.
Yeah!
That s great. Mind if we ask you a few questions?
Why no, Grandfather, not at all!
Grona leaned back in his chair. The TIA agent across from him wasn t wearing the pearl-gray
uniform as regulations said he must while on duty, but there was no doubt about his identity. Shall I
run it? he asked. Orona nodded. I hope you re wrong about this.
They don t pay us to be wrong, Doctor. Sorry. The agent touched a control on the
holographic projector on Orona s desk. The air shimmered and the picture flowered. A close view
of a man on a pressor table, smiling as if drugged.
Tell us again, a voice off camera said. Just like before.
Sure, the man on the table said. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]