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. Icould use a little help here. I flexed the muscles of my shoulders experimentally, andfound that surgical staples hold you together better thanskin, sometimes.I d felt better, but then again, given theevents of the relatively few days since I d first been woken up,I d felt one hell of a lot worse. I think I can make it, I said.We headed for the far wall of the trench, shooting any ofthe doglike creatures that came too close.I only hoped thatI d been right and there really were openings in the side, andthat, in the end, they actually led anywhere. CHAPTER 8I ve mentioned how SecServ"! and their ilk had no ultimatelyofficial remit, but they operated in the form if not the fact of aplanetary-based policing service, and there are certain agreedprotocols that must be followed in a certain line of work inany case.These protocols should have had me formallycharged, and the details of the charges posted, but none ofthat happened.It s my guess that the bounty forapprehending an Open Target was the biggest scoreSecServ"! had had all year, and they wanted to keep meunder wraps for as long as they could to prevent any of thegenuinely heavy people laying claim to me.In any event, Iwas simply dragged into the holding cages and left there.This was fine by me.The longer I stayed out of the quasi-official records, the less chance there would be of everybodyand his dog getting a lock on me the instant I escaped.Ididn t have any fear that I couldn t escape the moment I feltlike it, of course: a Mickey Mouse outfit like SecServ"!operated on the same level in the law-enforcement stakes as,centuries ago, a US Savings and Loan did compared with areal bank.The effects of being zapped by a couple of tasers waswearing off.I hauled myself to my feet and looked around theholding cage and took in the standard low-level mix of petty-criminal and civil-action detritus.One large guy with moretattoos than skin surface, who I instantly pegged as the Bullaround these parts, caught me looking at him, consideredmaking something of it and then thought better of it when Ismiled at him in a certain way.I sat down on a bench thathad been hurriedly vacated by the occupants when I walkedtowards them smiling in the same way, and began toformulate my plan for escape. The plan was so audacious, so brilliant and such a work ofgenius that could only ever have been come up with by anutter, utter genius, that I hesitate to detail it here.It was sogood that Papillon, the Prisoner of Zenda and the Count ofMonte Cristo would have turned green with envy and turnedthemselves back in again in shame.It was a plan, in short,that was worthy of going down in the annals of intergalactichistory under Plans, Most Inconceivably Brilliant Ever, andthat s my story and I m sticking to it.All in all, it was a bit of a pity that the door of the cagechose that moment to swing open, and auodier armouredSecman chose to zap me again.A lower charge, this time,just enough to leave me weak and dazed. You.Out. The Secman pulled me out and shoved me downa corridor, bouncing me occasionally off the walls. You re alucky boy, you know that? he said, in the restrained-angertones of someone who would have liked to bounce me harderif he could. Friends in high places.They sent a car for you. Even in my groggy state, I knew that this was completebollocks.Nobody knew I was here - nobody who mattered -and one of the more distressing things about being an OpenTarget is that those who want you tend to prefer yousomewhat deader than alive.I was suddenly in bright sunlight that seemed to cast noshadow - the substation in which I was being held was undera power dome, which captured and stored available sunlight,outputting it over the entire inner surface of the dome duringthe local day .I was in the substation s internal parking lot, just the placeto stick some poor sod up against the wall and administerlaw n order at the blunt end by way of the judiciousapplication of a blaster bolt in the back of the neck.I tried tomake a fight of it, preferably with the option of putting in abit of distance first, but my muscles just weren t workingright. Take it easy, sonny. The Secman pushed me into the backof a waiting hov-car, giving me the flat of his boot for goodluck.The door gull-winged shut behind me and I lurched around spastically in some hope of getting a look at thedriver.The basic physics of my reaction time and the way mybrain s connected up mean I can pull an identification out ofback-of-the-head clues, integrating the data to peg a man orwoman I ve barely glimpsed before and come out with somequite startlingly extensive insights.None of that was needed though, since I recognized thedriver like a shot.It was Investigator Forrester and he washolding a gun. Look, take it easy! he said hurriedly, even before Ibelatedly realized that he was holding the Gun - my Gun -the wrong way round and offering it to me.There wassomething about the lines of his face: harder, but moreintelligent, and with a sense of buried humour somewheredeep inside.It was as if he had dropped an act and become,in some sense, more alive. I don t expect you to believe me on the spot, he said, butjust so you know.My name isn t Forrester, it s Cwej.ChrisCwej.I m helping Benny and Braxiatel for the moment andI m here to bring you in. * * * You could have told me Forr- I mean Cwej was on the team, I said. Ouch! Mira, you have the heart and soul of aTorquemada in training. And I know just how much it hurts, said Mira, droppingthe surgical stapler into a chipped, antique tin-and-enamelkidney dish.The gash inflicted on me by the creature in thetransit station had been slightly deeper than I d thought andhad opened up again. And hey, I didn t know about it till afew hours ago. And you didn t ask, said Irving Braxiatel.Apart from the injury, which hurt like hell, I felt one hell ofa lot better by now, slightly more on top of the game.Braxiatel s suite was precisely how I d left it, as though theman himself went and locked himself in a cupboard orsomething when there was nobody else around.Now he stoodthere in his pristine suit, watching Mira s impromptu doctoring with vague interest, as if it was something he hadknown about in theory, but never actually seen in practice. It would have served no purpose to, ah, blow his cover , Braxiatel continued, savouring words he had in allprobability never said aloud in his life. As it is, we only didso now to take you from the field of operation.You veannoyed quite a few people, apparently.Quite a few peopleare roaming the Proximan Chain with your description and shoot-to-kill orders. He proffered me one of the ubiquitousmartinis that he didn t touch himself [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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. Icould use a little help here. I flexed the muscles of my shoulders experimentally, andfound that surgical staples hold you together better thanskin, sometimes.I d felt better, but then again, given theevents of the relatively few days since I d first been woken up,I d felt one hell of a lot worse. I think I can make it, I said.We headed for the far wall of the trench, shooting any ofthe doglike creatures that came too close.I only hoped thatI d been right and there really were openings in the side, andthat, in the end, they actually led anywhere. CHAPTER 8I ve mentioned how SecServ"! and their ilk had no ultimatelyofficial remit, but they operated in the form if not the fact of aplanetary-based policing service, and there are certain agreedprotocols that must be followed in a certain line of work inany case.These protocols should have had me formallycharged, and the details of the charges posted, but none ofthat happened.It s my guess that the bounty forapprehending an Open Target was the biggest scoreSecServ"! had had all year, and they wanted to keep meunder wraps for as long as they could to prevent any of thegenuinely heavy people laying claim to me.In any event, Iwas simply dragged into the holding cages and left there.This was fine by me.The longer I stayed out of the quasi-official records, the less chance there would be of everybodyand his dog getting a lock on me the instant I escaped.Ididn t have any fear that I couldn t escape the moment I feltlike it, of course: a Mickey Mouse outfit like SecServ"!operated on the same level in the law-enforcement stakes as,centuries ago, a US Savings and Loan did compared with areal bank.The effects of being zapped by a couple of tasers waswearing off.I hauled myself to my feet and looked around theholding cage and took in the standard low-level mix of petty-criminal and civil-action detritus.One large guy with moretattoos than skin surface, who I instantly pegged as the Bullaround these parts, caught me looking at him, consideredmaking something of it and then thought better of it when Ismiled at him in a certain way.I sat down on a bench thathad been hurriedly vacated by the occupants when I walkedtowards them smiling in the same way, and began toformulate my plan for escape. The plan was so audacious, so brilliant and such a work ofgenius that could only ever have been come up with by anutter, utter genius, that I hesitate to detail it here.It was sogood that Papillon, the Prisoner of Zenda and the Count ofMonte Cristo would have turned green with envy and turnedthemselves back in again in shame.It was a plan, in short,that was worthy of going down in the annals of intergalactichistory under Plans, Most Inconceivably Brilliant Ever, andthat s my story and I m sticking to it.All in all, it was a bit of a pity that the door of the cagechose that moment to swing open, and auodier armouredSecman chose to zap me again.A lower charge, this time,just enough to leave me weak and dazed. You.Out. The Secman pulled me out and shoved me downa corridor, bouncing me occasionally off the walls. You re alucky boy, you know that? he said, in the restrained-angertones of someone who would have liked to bounce me harderif he could. Friends in high places.They sent a car for you. Even in my groggy state, I knew that this was completebollocks.Nobody knew I was here - nobody who mattered -and one of the more distressing things about being an OpenTarget is that those who want you tend to prefer yousomewhat deader than alive.I was suddenly in bright sunlight that seemed to cast noshadow - the substation in which I was being held was undera power dome, which captured and stored available sunlight,outputting it over the entire inner surface of the dome duringthe local day .I was in the substation s internal parking lot, just the placeto stick some poor sod up against the wall and administerlaw n order at the blunt end by way of the judiciousapplication of a blaster bolt in the back of the neck.I tried tomake a fight of it, preferably with the option of putting in abit of distance first, but my muscles just weren t workingright. Take it easy, sonny. The Secman pushed me into the backof a waiting hov-car, giving me the flat of his boot for goodluck.The door gull-winged shut behind me and I lurched around spastically in some hope of getting a look at thedriver.The basic physics of my reaction time and the way mybrain s connected up mean I can pull an identification out ofback-of-the-head clues, integrating the data to peg a man orwoman I ve barely glimpsed before and come out with somequite startlingly extensive insights.None of that was needed though, since I recognized thedriver like a shot.It was Investigator Forrester and he washolding a gun. Look, take it easy! he said hurriedly, even before Ibelatedly realized that he was holding the Gun - my Gun -the wrong way round and offering it to me.There wassomething about the lines of his face: harder, but moreintelligent, and with a sense of buried humour somewheredeep inside.It was as if he had dropped an act and become,in some sense, more alive. I don t expect you to believe me on the spot, he said, butjust so you know.My name isn t Forrester, it s Cwej.ChrisCwej.I m helping Benny and Braxiatel for the moment andI m here to bring you in. * * * You could have told me Forr- I mean Cwej was on the team, I said. Ouch! Mira, you have the heart and soul of aTorquemada in training. And I know just how much it hurts, said Mira, droppingthe surgical stapler into a chipped, antique tin-and-enamelkidney dish.The gash inflicted on me by the creature in thetransit station had been slightly deeper than I d thought andhad opened up again. And hey, I didn t know about it till afew hours ago. And you didn t ask, said Irving Braxiatel.Apart from the injury, which hurt like hell, I felt one hell ofa lot better by now, slightly more on top of the game.Braxiatel s suite was precisely how I d left it, as though theman himself went and locked himself in a cupboard orsomething when there was nobody else around.Now he stoodthere in his pristine suit, watching Mira s impromptu doctoring with vague interest, as if it was something he hadknown about in theory, but never actually seen in practice. It would have served no purpose to, ah, blow his cover , Braxiatel continued, savouring words he had in allprobability never said aloud in his life. As it is, we only didso now to take you from the field of operation.You veannoyed quite a few people, apparently.Quite a few peopleare roaming the Proximan Chain with your description and shoot-to-kill orders. He proffered me one of the ubiquitousmartinis that he didn t touch himself [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]