Act 41: Alan's Theft
by A Clockwork Tomato
Roger looked up from a report. "Dorothy, why would anyone want half a ton of cadmium?"
She looked at him in sudden interest. "It takes about eight hundred pounds to make a Megadeus reactor."
Roger raised an eyebrow. "My client, Ronald Bellingham of Paradigm Specialty Alloys, says that a ton of cadmium was stolen from his warehouse, shortly after he received an order for nine hundred pounds. He told me that most orders are in for a few ounces or pounds, but big orders come in occasionally."
"What does your client want?"
"He says he's been offered a chance to buy half of the cadmium back at about 40% of market price. That would be about half a million dollars. But there's a catch. Apparently there is another bidder."
"The same person who wanted the nine hundred pounds?"
"Presumably. What does that mean to you?"
"The thief is building a Megadeus. The other bidder is also building a Megadeus."
"And that means …" he broke off as Norman entered the doorway.
"Excuse me, Master Roger, but Miss Angel wants to see you.'
Angel strode into the room. "Damn it, Roger, what are we going to about Alan Gabriel?"
"Hi, Angel. Good to see you. It's a nice day."
Angel glared at him. "You know what a snake Alan is! What are we going to do about it?"
Roger said, "We're going to leave it up to the Dories." He wondered if Angel knew how attractive he found her when she argued with him. He was sometimes tempted to rile her up unnecessarily. But not today; she was really upset this time.
"Have you taken leave of your senses? Dori and Dora are the only ones who don't know him from before! They're the last people who should be in on this!"
Dorothy said quietly, "They are the only ones who have met the R. Alan Gabriel of today. Dori is certain that he is very different from the cyborg we knew."
Angel paced back and forth. "This has already blown up in our faces. Beck is almost out of his mind. What's it going to take to get your attention? Roger, can't you talk any sense into her?"
Roger smiled. "I suppose there's always a first time."
Dorothy asked calmly, "What do you want us to do?"
"I don't know!" said Angel. "At least take this seriously! Dori's so calm, she's driving me crazy!"
Roger asked, "Is this really about the current Alan Gabriel, or is it about unfinished business from last time?"
She softened. "God, Roger, I wish that's all it were. I still have nightmares, don't you?" Her eyes went far away. "What he did to Roscoe Fitzgerald, murdering an old man in a wheelchair; and what he did to Dorothy. And I just stood there, doing nothing ..." She came back to the present with an effort. "Wouldn't it be nice if were all over and done with? But I don't think so—and you don't either."
"No, you're right; I don't. But I'm not going to go charging in when all three Wayneright sisters have told me not to. Especially when I don't know what I ought to do when I get there. You can't ask me to murder R. Alan or destroy a Megadeus who's so damaged that he's not even fully conscious. Especially when he's on Big Venus' 'friends' list."
She glared at him. "It's going to get worse before it gets better. You know it will."
"Sorry, Angel."
It was almost quitting time, and Tony hadn't seen Beck, R. Dori, or Dora all day. Big B was back in his place in Hangar B after last night's action with Big Tau, and Tony had checked him over and re-armed him before noon. Even if Beck had slept in, he should be been here hours ago, but R. Dori didn't sleep and Dora hadn't been involved in the fight at all. Strange.
He knew they weren't actually missing because they'd all checked in with Security at various times. But they hadn't set foot in Hangar B.
Tony decided to leave early and check with a supplier on the way home. He wasn't sure the mechanical drawings really expressed what he wanted done, and he wanted to talk to the foreman. He had just snapped his briefcase shut when Beck stormed in the office.
"Tony, you jerk! This is all your fault!"
"What is?" Beck was always blaming him for something.
"What is?" Beck seemed surprised, then angrier than ever. "Don't you even know?"
"No, sir."
"The day before yesterday, when you were god knows where, Dora went off to the soda counter at the usual time, completely unescorted, and ran into a crook. A con man. A psychopath. A murderer."
Tony was appalled. "What happened?"
"Have you ever heard of Alan Gabriel?"
Tony paled. He'd seen the demented cyborg several times, running errands for Alex Rosewater when Tony was working for a shop specializing in clandestine high-tech work. R. Alan Gabriel was the craziest, most dangerous, most terrifying person Tony had ever met. But wasn't he dead?
"Well, he fed Dora a line about Megadeuses in trouble and her glorious future as a Dominus, and she followed him home."
"Oh, my god."
"He seduced her, Tony! And where the hell were you? You're supposed to protect her! You two set up an iron-clad routine, but you can't be bothered to keep it! Sometimes she's there all alone! You jerk! I oughta kill you!"
Tony could hardly think. Part of him knew that Beck was out of line—Tony was not part of Beck's security team—but, nevertheless, Tony felt responsible. He hadn't been there when she needed him!
"Is … is she all right?"
"Is she all right? Is she all right? What the hell do you think? At least she got away. No thanks to you." And Beck turned around and stalked from the room.
Tony picked up his briefcase on the third try and headed for the door.
Beck returned suddenly, popping up like a jack-in-the-box. "Pack your things and be back here by seven," he said. "We're gonna salvage Big Tau."
After Angel left, Roger stood up and stretched. "Dorothy, what are the odds that R. Alan Gabriel isn't involved in the cadmium caper?"
"None. Big X's reactor material needs to be replaced."
"So is he the thief or the purchaser?"
"Just a moment." Dorothy crossed to the telephone and dialed a number. "Dori Wayneright please." After a short pause she said, "Hello, Dori. What is Alan Gabriel doing about Big X's reactor?" Then "Thank you. Good-bye."
She turned to Roger. "Alan is the purchaser, not the thief."
"Do we know anyone else who might need a Megadeus reactor?"
"No."
"Everybody knows about Big O, these days. People who've stolen Megadeus materials aren't going to like negotiating with Roger Smith. I'd better phone my client."
He dialed the number, asked to speak to Ronald Bellingham. A moment later he hung up. "He hasn't been in today. They can't contact him."
"Yes, I heard." Dorothy could eavesdrop on phone conversations, and also trace calls.
Roger considered for a moment. "He was probably kidnapped, or worse, when the thief learned that I was being brought in, to eliminate the back trail. Damn!" He touched the intercom button. "Norman!"
"Yes, Master Roger?"
"Make sure every call into this place is traced. My client has been kidnapped."
"Very good, sir."
Dorothy said, "Perhaps we should send word to R. Alan. He also represents a trail back to the thief."
Roger scowled, then nodded. After a moment, he smiled, "Sometimes I hate being the good guy."
"But not much."
"No. Not much. How do we contact him?"
"I'll ask Dori."
Tony paced back and forth in his apartment. That wretched Beck! How dare he blame me for this? I'm not Dora's keeper! He was ashamed of his meek reaction. I should have yelled back! I shouldn't let myself be victimized!
Tony wasn't always meek with Beck. Months ago, before Dora's arrival, he'd knocked Beck unconscious with a single blow when Beck's bad-mouthing had carelessly drifted from Tony to R. Dorothy. That had been a good day! But the contrast made today's effort seem particularly feeble.
Just the thought of Dora in the same room with R. Alan Gabriel made Tony feel ill. His heart raced; he was in a cold sweat. His imagination tormented him with images of Dora kissing R. Alan, of them making love, of her crying out in passion. God damn it! Why did she do it? He was overwhelmed by a sense of loss; of grief. He loved Dora's innocence, and now it was gone. He wanted to cry, and this filled him with rage. His father had taught him from his earliest childhood that a man never cries. His father had been humiliated when Tony had cried at his mother's funeral.
He sat down on the couch and buried his head in his hands. Damn it, I thought I was good to her. Why did she betray me? She never loved me. He got up and kicked the wastebasket, instantly regretting it, because the gesture reminded him of Beck. Why should I care? The little harlot! To hell with her!
Tony got up to get a couple of aspirin. He passed his father's liquor cabinet. The apartment had been his parents' before their deaths. Tony didn't drink. He hadn't even opened the cabinet since his father's death.
He opened the cabinet. It contained a half-bottle of whiskey and a .45 revolver; an ugly weapon. During one memorable drunken rant, his father had waved it around and bellowed, "Son, a man never cries. He shouts! He screams! He fights! He kills! He gets killed! But he never cries!"
He picked up the weapon. It was cold and heavy. He wanted very much to shoot R. Alan Gabriel. Why am I blaming Dora? It's not her fault! Dora trusts everybody. R. Alan seduced her; he abused her innocence. Damn him! The image of her listening to R. Alan calmly, attentively, believing his lies, taking his hand as he led her off to his lair, left him feeling weak and sick. Did she have any idea what was happening before it was too late? He was wracked by visions of her crying out in fear and pain.
His self-loathing returned. Dora had been struck by tragedy, and he had blamed her! She had shown him more friendship and affection than anyone ever had, and he had condemned her, sight unseen, as a harlot. She was far too kind to him. He didn't deserve her friendship. He didn't deserve to live.
His eyes were still on the pistol and the bottle. He set down the pistol, snatched the bottle and took it into the kitchen. He poured the whiskey into the sink and threw the bottle into the trash.
The gun. Well, that part he could manage. He would find R. Alan Gabriel and kill him.
Tony packed some clothes into a duffel bag, then went into the bathroom and emptied his medicine chest into a bag: toothbrush, razor, odds and ends. What else? He'd stop at the bank and get some money—that would have to be tomorrow, it was long past banking hours— and go to the hardware store for a few odds and ends and a box of cartridges. He put the pistol into the duffel bag and hoisted it to his shoulder.
He took one last look around the living room. Time to go. Would he ever return? He doubted it.
He opened the front door and stared.
Dora was standing on the stoop, her finger poised to ring the doorbell. She looked up at him, surprised.
Tony's mind reeled. Before he could pull himself together, Dora said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." She stepped forward and hugged him, then stood back and said, "You're upset. I see you're packed, though. I'm glad. Come on, we're taking my car. Jason and Dori have gone ahead in Big B."
That was quite a long speech for Dora. Tony felt numb, confused. The last thing he expected was to have her appear on his doorstep, the same as ever. Expecting him to be the same as ever. He wondered if he were going insane.
She looked up at him, concerned. "What did Jason say to you?"
"Never mind," he said thickly.
"Don't listen to him. He had a fight with Dori. He's taking it out on everyone but her."
Relief flooded Tony. Beck had lied, just to make Tony mad! Of course he had. Dora wasn't like that! He locked the front door with a shaking hand and allowed Dora to lead him to her car.
"We're salvaging Big Tau," she said. "Jason especially wants the shock vortex. He's so erratic right now that I can't let him out of my sight for long." She started the engine and they drove off.
They drove in silence for a while. After a few blocks, Dora patted the seat next to her. After an inner struggle, he scooted over and put an arm around her. She was always doing this. It bothered him a little, since it stirred up feelings he didn't want to examine, and tonight his inner turmoil was such that he was afraid that … he didn't know what he was afraid of.
Her sister R. Dori was the same way, insisting on physical contact with all her friends. It was odd, but the other touchy-feely women Tony had known had seemed fake to him. Dora and R. Dori really cared. They loved all of their friends, even the ones they had just met. It was endearing, yet terrifying. You just knew it was going to break Dora's heart someday, or worse. Dora was small, weak, fragile, inexperienced—and utterly fearless.
Was Dora aware of his agitation? She didn't seem to be. She kept her attention on her driving and seemed quietly cheerful. Tony began to relax, soothed by her presence, her confidence, her warm body, the smell of her hair.
They ate at a truck stop at the edge of town. People pretended that Paradigm City was all there was, but it wasn't really true. All sorts of things came from outside town, especially from the north. Electricity, lumber, food, and who knew what else. The truck stop's diner served a surprisingly good meal. Tony discovered that his appetite had returned. Dora's self-possession was deeply comforting. His inner turmoil drained away. Whatever had happened, it hadn't pushed her to the limit. Maybe nothing had happened.
The phone rang. R. Dorothy picked it up. "Hello?"
A rough male voice. "Let me talk to Roger Smith."
"One moment, please." She handed the receiver to Roger.
"Hello?"
"Listen up, Smith. Drop the case, and I'll let your client go. Otherwise, there won't be anyone to sign your check. Understand?"
"Let me talk to my client."
The line went dead.
Dorothy had written a couple of lines of numbers on a piece of paper. "The caller was tapped into a cable between these two switching stations."
"It wasn't a regular phone line?"
"No. He could have tapped in anywhere between the two stations."
"Let's take a look at Norman's maps."
Half an hour later, they entered the Underground. The two stations were both at the subway level, a quarter of a mile apart. Roger expected to find his kidnapper camped out there, or perhaps in a side tunnel. He wouldn't be hard to find. The spot was less than two miles away, an easy walk from the entrance to the Underground in Big O's hangar. They had gone over all of this with Norman.
As usual, neither of them bothered with special clothing. Roger was in a black suit; Dorothy wore a black dress. He smiled at her as they took the elevator down to the Underground. She pretended not to notice. She was most adorable woman alive. He was a lucky man.
They went past the subway level and into the first level of the true Underground, with its tall corridors and eerie lighting. They walked in a companionable silence. The Underground was a maze, but Dorothy knew the way. Roger was careful to note each turn in case they became separated.
Finally, Dorothy stopped next to a ladder headed up to the subway level. "The first station is near this ladder," she said.
"Ladies first," said Roger.
After two seconds of Dorothy's silent stare, he remarked, "Well, you could have worn pants," and climbed the ladder. Dorothy followed.
Dora asked Tony to drive when they got onto the road again. Tony was content. Being on an undemanding road trip with Dora was a welcome change from the emotional whiplash of working directly with Beck.
She leaned up against him he drove down the highway, and he put an arm around her, happy for the first time in his life to be driving a car with power steering. Driving through the night on a well-maintained highway with an arm around a beautiful girl, he wished they could keep driving forever, and almost believed that they could.
They discussed their route for a little while. She expected to fall asleep before they arrived, and there would be a couple of hours on unmarked dirt roads that neither of them knew. Folding the map and putting it in the glove compartment, she asked, "Shall I tell you what happened with Alan?"
Tony winced at the name, but said "Yes, please."
"I met him at the soda fountain. He said that I might be his Dominus. He propositioned me and described Big X. He didn't have the money or equipment to repair him. I went with him and looked over Big X. Big X is in a sad way, Tony. I talked to him for a long time. Then Alan took me to his apartment. We were kissing when Persephone walked in on us. She was terribly upset, and I realized I had been duped. Persephone and I left together, and I brought her back to Hangar B. Neither of us wanted to face Alan just then."
Tony, horrified and relieved at the same time, blurted out, "Are you sure you only got as far as first base?"
Dora stiffened. Tony felt himself blush. "Sorry."
She subjected him to a long, cool stare that made him feel like something very small under a microscope. The she relaxed. "This is upsetting you," she said at last. "I'm sorry."
"Me, too," he said, ashamed of himself for no apparent reason.
"Do you want me to drive?"
"No, I'm better off driving. It gives me something to do. I often go for long drives when I'm upset."
"I'm all right, Tony, really," she insisted. "Persephone is all right, too … Maybe I should tell you the rest later."
"No. Please ... don't leave me hanging."
Dora continued her narrative. The next day, they had told R. Dori about what had happened. Somehow, they had hit upon the notion of enlisting Big B's help to telepathically interrogate R. Alan. R. Alan had agreed, and had instantly suborned Big B by suggesting that telepathically enhanced sex would be more fun than questions. Dora and Persephone had fled when the waves of telepathic, amplified lust had struck them, but R. Alan and R. Dori remained.
Dora neglected to mention that fleeing wasn't all she and Persephone had done. She wasn't sure any of it really counted—or, if it did, what it counted as. But hearing about it would upset Tony, and he was already upset enough.
R. Dori had then interrogated R. Alan telepathically and at length, wringing him dry, and had concluded that he could not be trusted. Much as she would like to help Big X, R. Alan was on his own. R. Dori had dismissed him regretfully.
R. Dori had then told Beck what had happened, and Beck had been very upset. When news of Big Tau's incursion reached him, he had dashed off with Big B to vent his frustrations on the strange Megadeus, taking unnecessary risks. If Big O hadn't also been there, he would have been killed. Now Beck was off to salvage Big Tau, and wasn't much calmer than before. Persephone, by the way, had returned to R. Alan.
Tony, thoroughly rattled by the tale, asked, "How can you be so calm about all this?"
"I'm not. I'm worried about Jason."
"I mean, how can you be so calm about Alan?"
"Why not?" She seemed puzzled.
"He's an evil, manipulating seducer!"
"Yes, I'm worried about Persephone, too. She loves him. She takes care of him, but he doesn't take care of her."
Tony didn't know what to make of her. Did she really fail to grasp his meaning? She never seemed to worry about herself at all, just the people around her. Or did she simply refuse to talk about it? "You don't love him?"
"No. But he's wonderfully attractive."
"What? He's like an emaciated, crippled girl!"
"He's like a slim, athletic girl now."
"Even so!"
"Don't worry, Tony. He won't fool me again."
Tony subsided, but he was far from satisfied. R. Alan had her under some kind of spell. She acted as if he were normal; someone who, okay, wasn't boyfriend material, but whom she'd be happy to spend some time with. That was the same way she thought about Tony! But her physical attraction to R. Alan made her vulnerable. She wasn't safe; she wasn't safe at all. She was overconfident and always wanted to think well of everyone. Really, she was defenseless in the hands of someone like R. Alan. She'd walk straight into his next trap, thinking she could handle him. Tony's anger returned. God, how he hated R. Alan Gabriel!
Dora glanced at him sidelong. He tried not to squirm. She can't read my mind, he thought. I'm almost sure of it. It was just an illusion caused by her alert intelligence and the way, by never saying much, she rarely said anything stupid.
She said, "Everything's going to be okay, Tony. You'll see."
"You and Dori always say that."
"We're always right."
Conversation ceased, and soon Dora was asleep, still leaning against him. When he turned onto the first in a series of horribly bumpy dirt roads, he stopped and fished the seat belts from where they had gotten lost in the crack at the back of the seat. Dora never used them. It turned out there were only two for the front seat. There ought to be one in the middle—no one ever rode way over on the passenger side in Dora's car. He made a mental note to fix that for her.
Tony scooted Dora over and buckled her in, then rolled up his sweater and put it behind her head as a pillow. She slept through all of this. Then he got back behind the wheel and fastened his own seat belt.
Bumping down the road, he was surprised at how much difference a couple of feet of separation made. She was right here in the car, but he missed her.
Was it wrong for him to love her so much? He wasn't even sure he wanted her as a girlfriend. No, that wasn't true. If she showed the slightest romantic interest in him, he'd fall for her like a ton of bricks. But she fully expected to acquire a Megadeus and an android and live happily ever after—true love—damn R. Alan Gabriel for taking advantage of her fantasy!
Tony tried to shove R. Alan Gabriel out of his mind. Dora thought Tony deserved a Megadeus and an android as much as she did. Tony smiled. How could he not love her? The casual way she assumed that he deserved more than he'd ever imagined, that he was up to it. In her mind, the fact that Beck signed Tony's paychecks was a detail, a quibble—almost a game, like Norman pretending to be Roger's employee, when he really belonged to Big O.
Tony considered this angle. R. Dori had dropped a few hints along these lines, too. He hadn't understood them at the time. How pleasant it would be to tell Beck, "You got any complaints, take 'em to Big B." Big B was a lot like Beck in some ways, but he had a catlike complacency where Beck was irritable and prickly. Beck always needed to show you who was boss; Big B didn't. And Big B valued Tony. He gave the impression that Tony was the fourth member of the team: Dominus, Megadeus, android, mechanic. He wasn't an afterthought, an appendage, a second-class citizen. He was essential. On the other hand, Big B had betrayed R. Dori to R. Alan.
Well, if Dora found her Megadeus, he'd transfer his allegiance to them in a second. Big B would understand. Tony had his doubts about being Dominus material, but he was sure of one thing: he was a superb Megadeus mechanic; every bit as good as Norman, and maybe better.
Dora loved him, he knew that. He was her best friend. She'd go through the gates of hell to save him if she had to, just as he would for her. The problem was that this didn't put him in an exclusive category; there were a lot of people Dora would risk everything for. Was R. Alan in this category? Probably. And that girl, Persephone—she definitely was. Anytime R. Alan wanted to reel Dora in, he'd use Persephone as bait.
Dora could be as kind and understanding as she liked, but Tony knew better. Persephone was letting herself be used. Dora had given up on R. Alan, but Persephone had stuck. She'd chosen the wrong side with her eyes wide open. Tony wouldn't soon forgive that.
After a couple of hours on very bad dirt roads, Tony reached the rendezvous. There was Big B, standing motionless. Tony stopped the car, reached over, and gave Dora a little shake. "We're here, Dora."
Dora opened her eyes and smiled sleepily at Tony, melting his heart.
Tony got out and walked towards Big B. Beck appeared from the shadows. He was weary and unhappy.
"Wild goose chase," he said. "Big Tau's flown the coop."
"I thought he was dead."
"He is. Core memory completely destroyed. Somebody must've piloted him out in manual mode. We forgot to lock him down. Damn it to hell! Everything's gone wrong, the last few days."
"Can we track him?"
"Not at night. They did a couple of obvious things to cover their tracks. At dawn, sure. We'll find him. Damn it! Legally, he's salvage. He belongs to whoever took him. I'll be lucky if I can get him back by paying through the nose for him."
A young man was hanging around near them. Beck waved him over. "This is Mitch. He's the partner of Big Tau's Dominus. He's gonna show us where Big Tau came from. There might be some good stuff there." Beck sighed. "Tomorrow. Let's get the tents up. We could all use some rest."
Beck himself would sleep in one of the staterooms in Big B, Tony knew, but he was particular about who he invited there.
Dora drifted up, still sleepy. She gave Beck a smile and a hug, which calmed him noticeably. He said, "Hi, honey. Nice trip?"
"You were mean to Tony."
"I'm sorry, honey." To Tony he said, "No hard feelings, I hope?"
Reluctantly, Tony said, "Forget about it." This was always happening. No matter what enormity Beck had committed, he would get out of it through a simple apology. It wasn't fair. And Tony didn't like the way Dora smiled at Beck. What had Beck ever done for her?
Beck turned back to Dora. "We'll have the tents up in a jiffy, and then you can go back to sleep."
R. Dori appeared, gave Dora and Tony hugs, then put an arm around Beck's waist. He smiled down at her. This completed Tony's black mood. R. Dori had betrayed Beck, and he didn't even care!
"Come on, Dora," said Tony, "You can wait in the car."
"Wait," said R. Dori. "Dora, do you know how to get a message to R. Alan?"
"No," replied Dora, "except by visiting him in the Underground." Then she looked in surprise at Beck and Tony, who were both staring at her sister in deep suspicion.
R. Dori explained, "Roger has a message for him. About a case."
R. Alan Gabriel looked across the hangar and gloated. Two Megadeuses! Big X still hung limply from his gantry, but Big Tau stood erect in the center of the huge hemispherical space.
It had been so easy! He and Persephone had located the Megadeus, and, much to his surprise, found that he was mostly intact. Oh, there was some trifling battle damage, especially to the transparent throat armor. The head was smashed and the core memory completely destroyed, but it had taken very little work to engage manual control. A human would have found it enormously difficult to walk him more than a few steps, but for a Class M android like R. Alan, it was a delight. They had paid off the men they had hired to help with the salvage and sent them home.
The real surprise had been Persephone's deftness in getting Big Tau ready to move. She had always been quick with the mechanical and electrical work, but R. Alan has supposed she was being guided by Big X. But here she was with a dead Megadeus—no possibility of telepathy—and she worked with as much sureness as ever.
A tedious march cross-country, with time spent to obscure the trail with every crossing of rock or river, and then they'd reached the nearest entrance to the Underground, well outside the city. Big X's hangar shared a transport system with another nearby hangar, currently empty, which apparently had first held a Megadeus R. Alan didn't know—Big Ramses—then, later, Michael Seebach's Big Duo. A quick run underground using the wheeled transporter, and here they were, safe and sound.
Two Megadeuses! What joy!
But only one core memory. Only one reactor. What a pity.
The phone rang. R. Alan drifted towards the nearest extension. Persephone picked it up from inside the apartment. R. Alan could hear both sides of the conversation through the wires.
"Gabriel and Company."
"You still want the cadmium?"
"One moment, please." Persephone put the caller on hold. A moment later, she spotted R. Alan and called, "Hey, Alan! Do we still want the cadmium?"
R. Alan considered. The call would be from the thief. Buying the cadmium from thieves didn't trouble him, except that the original supplier had been reliable, while the thief might try to cheat him. R. Alan had Big Tau's reactor, so he didn't really need the cadmium.
Two Megadeuses!
"Yes, my queen! We want it. Then all we'll need is a core memory." He giggled. "We can pick that up practically anywhere."
Persephone laughed—core memories were unobtainable—and went back to the phone, "Yes, we're still interested."
"You have to pick it up tonight. Get a pencil." The man rattled off an address. "The offer expires at 5 AM." He hung up.
R. Alan had strolled into the room. "What a beastly man! I almost don't want to buy his disgusting cadmium. He has no respect." He then struck a pose with his hand on his heart. "I swear I will not tolerate this treatment! We'll stand him up." He laughed. "He'll be more respectful next time. Besides, I traced the call. We can steal it from him whenever we like. One thief deserves another."
"I thought we were in a bidding war."
"Then we need to steal it before it changes hands. Who knows? Maybe we can get the money, too."
Beck paced the short corridor on Big B's secondary deck, just below the command deck. He had dark circles under his eyes. His yellow suit was rumpled. He often suffered from insomnia, but tonight his problem was different. He could barely keep his eyes open, but he was afraid to go to bed. He was afraid of what he might say, what he might do. Or, to be honest, what he might be unable to do. The shadow of R. Alan still stood between him and. R. Dori.
"Jason," called R. Dori softly.
"Yeah?"
There was no response. This was so unusual that he hurried, alarmed, into the cramped master bedroom.
She was lying stretched out on the bed, rigid, eyes closed, arms at her side. She was wearing an outfit he didn't know she had, an expensive black dress just like the ones Dorothy wore, correct in every detail, down to the green brooch and soft black shoes.
And, of course, he remembered. This was exactly how she'd looked when they first met, back when he was the Master Criminal and she was a not-quite activated R. Dorothy Wayneright that he'd stolen, that he hoped against hope he could bring to life and be the girl he so desperately needed to love him as much as he loved her. He'd been rumpled and scared and exhausted that night, too.
"Dorothy," he said gently, just as he had before. "Dorothy, it's time to wake up."
She opened her eyes. They grew wide as they focused on him, taking in his weariness. "Jason! Are you all right?"
Abandoning the script, he laughed his horrible cackling laugh. "I am now."
She stood, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him. He held her tight, as if clinging to the one thing that prevented him from being swept away and lost forever. That's exactly how he thought of her when things got bad, she knew. He was high-strung, subject to every kind of worry and fear, with oceans of guilt lurking just beneath the surface. R. Dori loved this strange, difficult, brilliant man with all her heart, with an intensity that frightened her sometimes; almost as much as he loved her. She'd dealt him a terrible blow when R. Alan had seduced her; she'd stabbed him in the heart, yet here they both were. He believed in her in spite of everything. She was the luckiest girl in the world.
Somehow she communicated this to him without words or even conscious movement, and he responded with more passion than she'd imagined possible in his exhausted state. Much of it was the nostalgic reminder of their first hours together. But some was surely the dress. He'd loved her original dress, but it had been destroyed some time ago.
She pulled him down to the bed, not giving him time to undress or even loosen his tie. For the first time, she kept the dress on while they made love. She was agog at the manly way he took both hands and tried to rip her pantyhose, though as a mere human he lacked the strength. She assisted. And the feel of the pistol in its shoulder holster behind his still-buttoned coat was ... but there were no words. Their cries reverberated off the metal bulkheads.
Afterwards, Beck quickly dropped into a deep sleep, arms around her, every bit of tension gone from his body, while R. Dori remained awake in a happy glow. This is what true love feels like. By comparison, her encounter with R. Alan now felt contrived and mechanical; powerful mostly through surprise and the artificial amplification provided by Big B. Tonight, Big B hadn't dared do anything at all. She reminded herself to tell all this to Beck in the morning—but only after a repeat performance!
She needed to thank R. Dorothy for the dress and report that it was a complete success. Yes: that was the best way of confessing that she was never giving it back.
And perhaps they should move the other stateroom to the end of the corridor, or even to another deck. It was a mercy that Beck had refused to invite anyone to sleep there tonight.
Mitch walked through the open door of the hospital room. There was half an hour to go before evening visiting hours ended.
The room was set up for four patients but held only one. Ricky was dozing in the bed, his left leg in traction, his right arm in a cast almost to the shoulder, his chest and left shoulder tightly bandaged, his left arm in a sling. It was warm in the room and Ricky's covers had been pulled back to the waist. Those parts of him that weren't covered with bandages or plaster were bruised. His face was in better shape. Someone had shaved him, but no one had done anything about his unruly brown hair, which at the moment was obscuring his left eye.
Ricky opened his eyes, or perhaps only the right eye, and focused on Mitch. "Hey," he whispered.
"Hey, yourself," said Mitch. He approached Ricky's bedside. "You look like hell."
Ricky smiled. "Funny, I feel like hell, too."
"So what do the docs say?"
"Oh, they say I'm young, I'll heal, I'll be out in a few weeks and chasing Megadeuses in a couple of months."
"You still game?"
"There's one out there for me, Mitch, I swear it."
Mitch looked away. "I led Beck to the hangar. He poked around for a little while and then left. I don't think he found anything."
"Maybe he didn't want you to see."
"Maybe. He paid me a couple of grand, and said he'd take care of your hospital bills."
"Don't see why."
"He says look him up when you get out. That android girlfriend of his, Dori, she told me to tell you to please look them up."
Ricky raised an eyebrow. "Little old me?"
"The Megadeus picked you, not me, pal. Maybe that means something. Maybe they know it."
Ricky smiled. "I could live with that." His smile faded after a moment, though.
Mitch glanced back through the open doorway. They were still alone. "You okay?"
"Oh, you know. My bones ache, I'm cramped from being in one position all the time, and with both arms out of action I can't do anything for myself, and it's embarrassing." He blinked away tears.
"Somebody gave you a nice shave. Too bad they didn't give you a haircut, too."
"Yeah. It gets in my eyes."
Mitch brushed the hair out of Ricky's eyes.
"Thanks. It was driving me crazy. It's boring here, too. I can't read, there's no radio or TV, and there's no one to talk to."
"I got here as soon as I could."
"I didn't mean that." Changing the subject, he asked, "How's Clarisse?"
"Oh, she's fine. I proposed, she accepted, we're going to set a date sometime soon. But she wants to pick my friends."
"It's been nice knowing you."
"She backed off when I went to bat for you, but I don't think I've heard the end of it. Don't expect any gift baskets from her, and she'll probably manage to keep me from coming here as often as I'd like."
Ricky sighed. "We knew this would happen. Say, have you heard from Persephone? Mom tried to get a message to her, but she moved out of her apartment. Dropped all her classes, too."
"She's around," Mitch reassured him. "People have seen her, talked to her, but no one seems to know where she's staying or what she's doing."
"I wish I could afford a P.I."
Mitch went to pat Ricky on the shoulder, then thought better of it. "I don't even know if a P.I. is expensive. I'll check it out. I'd be a lot happier knowing that she was visiting you every day. I'd have thought she'd have been here already. Maybe she hasn't heard. Most of the news stories didn't mention your name."
"Maybe she doesn't care."
"She's liked you since kindergarten. She'd be here if she knew."
Ricky nodded. "Thanks, pal."
"Don't mention it." Mitch turned to go.
"Hey, Mitch?"
"Yeah?"
"Sorry I screwed everything up. We'd be rich now if I hadn't gone back."
"Yeah, like you had a choice. Forget about it. Take it easy, buddy."
As he left, he thought about Persephone. She and Ricky had always been pals, and she was a bright, responsible girl. She'd spend time with Ricky if she knew. Mitch swore under his breath. He ought to be doing that! He and Ricky had always been partners. He'd never seen Ricky so depressed. Damn Clarisse, anyway! Her timing really stank.
"Here we are," said Roger. They had climbed back up to the subway level. An access panel had been removed from a telephone wiring cabinet and a cable spilled out of it, crossed the tunnel floor, and vanished into the wall at floor level.
"There's an elevator here," said Dorothy. She pressed the concealed call button. After a while, the concealed door opened and revealed a perfectly ordinary freight elevator, a little scarred and battered inside. The cable disappeared down the narrow gap between elevator car and the door.
Roger looked at the car suspiciously. He pulled the "Door Open" knob, then jumped for the access hatch at the top of the elevator car. He couldn't reach it.
Dorothy cupped her hands. "Thanks," said Roger, putting a foot in her hands. She boosted him effortlessly. He lifted the hatch and looked around, squinting in the gloom.
"There's an emergency ladder and everything," he reported. "The shaft looks okay and the cable looks fine." He replaced the hatch. Dorothy lowered him, and he wiped the cable grease off his hands with his handkerchief. He smiled. "Shall we?"
Dorothy nodded. The floors were numbered "B1" through "B10." They were at level "B1." Dorothy returned the "Door Open" knob and pressed "B2."
The elevator moved down smoothly and soon the doors opened. They looked out on the eerie Underground corridor they had occupied moments before. The phone cable continued down the elevator shaft. Dorothy pressed "B3."
This corridor was similar to B2, but the light was dimmer. The phone cable stretched away down the corridor. Roger and Dorothy followed it. Soon they passed an archway into an enormous hemispherical chamber, clad in gleaming copper sheets. They were on a walkway partway up the dome. They had never been in this chamber before. Roger walked to the rail and looked out. A Megadeus was stretched out, spread-eagled, on the floor. Its torso armor had been removed, exposing the gleaming golden globe of the reactor in its belly. The access hatch had been opened. A cable from a crane disappeared inside.
Roger heard a strange, high-pitched gasp behind him, and then a thud. He spun around. Two men were standing there. One, a youngish, slim man with short black hair and a goatee, stood next to Dorothy's unconscious form. He held an electric cattle prod. The other, a muscular middle-aged man with mad, pale eyes, held a double-barreled shotgun. It was pointed at Roger's midriff. Roger vibrated with anger, enraged by the sight of Dorothy's unconscious form, fists clenched, barely able to hold himself back. But there was no arguing with a shotgun, and the man holding it seemed more than a little crazed. Even a pro forma protest might convince him to pull the trigger.
The first man put away his cattle prod and took a small glass jar out of his coat pocket. He pulled out a reeking cloth and, without a word, placed it over Roger's nose and mouth, careful not to block his partner's line of fire. There nothing Roger could do. The smell of chloroform filled Roger's lungs, and soon he knew no more.
Roger woke slowly, feeling ill. He opened his eyes, to see Dorothy gazing down at him. His head was cradled on her lap.
He sat up suddenly, then held his head in his hands. "What a headache!" he said.
"I see your physiological responses are back to normal," said Dorothy.
Roger smiled. "Yours, too."
"We're in a hole in the ground. The walls are steel. I can't get out."
Roger looked up. They were in a cylindrical shaft about twenty feet deep and eight feet in diameter. There was nothing in the shaft at all. "How inconsiderate," he said. They could at least have left us a magazine."
"What happened?" asked Dorothy.
"They got you with a cattle prod and gave me a whiff of chloroform while they held a shotgun on me," said Roger. "It was very quick. They knew exactly what to do. Too bad all their work will be for nothing." He pulled back his sleeve, intending to call Big O.
His watch wasn't there.
He glanced at Dorothy.
"I can't raise Big O, either," she said. "This area must be shielded."
"Well, it won't take the others long to find us, anyway."
He looked around their prison, banging on the walls and floor. It seemed to be made out of thick steel.
"How high can you jump?" he asked.
Dorothy demonstrated. Roger whistled. "Amazing."
"Not amazing enough."
He circled their prison, looking up, and said, "What do you think is at the top?"
"I have no idea."
"How high can you throw me?"
She looked up at the wall, then at him.
"I'm fine," he lied. His headache was killing him, and nausea wasn't far behind. He hoped he wasn't visibly pale or shaking.
Dorothy then cupped her hands. "Let's try it and see."
He put a foot in her cupped hands. "Now the other one," she said.
He put his hands on top of her head to steady himself, put his weight on the foot she was holding, and stood up. He put one foot on top of the other. Dorothy didn't show the slightest sign of strain and stood as steady as a rock.
"Okay," said Roger. "If you can, toss me so I graze the wall just as I reach the top. And catch me on the way down if I don't make it. On the count of three. One … two … three!"
Dorothy heaved him up. He was flying! He rose and rose, his hands held above him.
Not high enough. Eighteen inches separated his fingertips from the top of the shaft. He began to fall.
Uh-oh, he though. It was easy enough to tell Dorothy to catch him, but could she do it? His mind was filled with interesting ways to land wrong, or be caught wrong.
In the event though, he fell feet-first, and she simply held out her arms as he came down, swept his legs out from under him as he went by, and caught him with one arm under his knees and the other around his chest. She clasped him to her and broke his fall by going down on one knee, spreading the deceleration across a foot or two of fall rather than having it happen all at once on the steel deck.
He rolled away from her—it hurt where she held him—got to his feet, staggered a little, and said, "Thanks."
He was dizzy and nauseated, but paid no attention, "This might work if you can toss me a couple of feet higher."
"That was the best I can do."
"Do you have any surprises saved up?"
"No."
"Well, let's inventory our possessions and see if any of this might be useful."
Roger turned out his pockets. He had a billfold containing two credit cards, some money, and some business cards; a notebook; a fountain pen concealing a lock pick; a black silk handkerchief; a pocket knife; a comb; and a ring with six keys. He had his clothing: Black suit, white shirt, black and white tie, belt, shirt, socks, shoes, black gloves, and black silk boxers. Two cufflinks. His flashlight had gone astray. No watch.
Dorothy's pockets contained a comb, a white cotton handkerchief, and a ring of five keys. She wore a black dress, white cuffs, a jabot with a green brooch, shoes, black pantyhose, and a black bra.
Roger surveyed the list glumly. "In stories, the heroes always find something clever to do with stuff like this."
Dorothy couldn't think of anything, either. Possibly they could make a slingshot out of the elastic in her bra or a sling out of her pantyhose, and loft some of their remaining possessions out of the prison, but what would be the point? Even if they could make a rope out of their clothing, it would be too heavy to heave out by such means, and they had nothing to use as a grapnel. Worse, their limited view out of the prison showed nothing for a grapnel to hook onto.
After a while, with nothing better to do, and his chloroform-induced headache still pounding away, Roger stretched out on the floor, his head on Dorothy's lap. He smiled up at her. Words seemed unnecessary. Then he closed his eyes. Soon he was asleep.
Dorothy sat quietly, calm but alert. If something happened, she would be ready for it.
"Hi, Norman," said Angel, walking into the kitchen. "Is Roger around?"
"No, miss. He and Miss Dorothy are out on a case."
"When do you expect them back?"
"I couldn't say." He glanced at the clock, hesitated, then opened a cupboard, revealing a picture phone console. He pressed a button and listened for several seconds. He pressed a second button and spoke into the microphone. "Master Roger."
There was no reply.
Norman turned a knob to a new position. Numbers appeared on the screen. He wrote them down on a piece of paper.
Angel snatched it from his hand. "You stay here. I'll find them."
"Very good, miss."
According to the coordinates, Roger was in a shopping district outside the dome, above ground. Nevertheless, Angel decided to bring a few things with her. She went to her room and threw open her wardrobe, meaning to grab the purse with her pistol and a few odds and ends. Her eye was drawn to what Roger called her "lady spy outfits."
"Why not?" she said, reaching for a pink leather catsuit.
Tony was working late, catching up on his paperwork. There were footsteps outside his office, but he didn't look up.
"Hi, Tony," said Persephone cheerfully.
What are you doing here?" He asked, suspicious and annoyed. Her smile vanished; she looked as if he had slapped her.
There was a security guard with her. He said, "Hey, Tony, do you know where Dora is?"
Tony wished he had the nerve to claim that she had left. "Squaring away the electronics bench, I think." He sighed. "I'll escort her, Ted."
Ted nodded and left.
Tony wordlessly led Persephone across to the electronics bench, where Dora had half a dozen oscilloscope probes laid out. She was soldering a connector onto one of them. The tip of her tongue protruded as she concentrated. She was so adorable! It was too bad she had no taste in friends. Tony wouldn't trust Persephone as far as he could throw her.
She finished and looked up. "Persephone!" She put down the soldering iron and gave Persephone a hug.
Tony looked on with disapproval. Persephone was in league with the enemy. He didn't like Dora's obvious pleasure at seeing her, didn't like the way a weight seemed to lift from Persephone's shoulders, didn't like the way the hug went on so long.
Dora let go and took a step back. "Have you eaten?"
"No."
"Tony will take us out to dinner."
Tony groped for an excuse. "I really need to keep working," he said. Then he realized that he didn't want Persephone alone with Dora. Who knew what she was up to? But the moment had passed. He'd look like an idiot changing his mind without prompting. Still, he had let her out of his sight once, and look what had happened. "You should have an escort," he said. "Take Ted."
Dora glared at him. Tony said, "Never mind. I'd be delighted to take the two of you to dinner."
Dora shook her head. "Not this time." She gave him a brief hug, whispering "You're my friend, not my keeper, okay?"
Then Dora took Persephone's hand and the girls departed.
Tony returned to his office, angry with himself. He couldn't concentrate. The paperwork seemed to be laughing at him.
Angel swore. Norman had called to inform her that Roger had moved but had not responded to communications. Angel was now at the new position, a loading dock at one of the branch offices of the Paradigm Post Office. She checked the coordinates with Norman once more, and was now examining the exact spot. Wearing her pink woolen overcoat over her catsuit, she looked stylish and hardly like a lady spy at all.
In front of her was a bin of unsorted mail.
A postal employee came up, "Hey! What are you doing!"
She smiled brightly at him and pulled out one of her cards, which identified her as a "Security Consultant." "Are you going to sort this mail soon?" she asked.
"Well, yes, but…"
"Do it now."
Two postal employees wheeled the bin into the sorting room, where they dumped it out. Angel used her own watch to call Roger repeatedly, producing a muffled beeping from somewhere in the mail. She quickly tracked it down to a lumpy envelope. "This is mine," she said.
"You need a warrant for that!"
"What was your name again?" she asked.
He hesitated. Paradigm was pretty much run on a law-and-order basis now, more or less, but it paid to be cautious. He didn't really believe what her business card said, but didn't want to investigate, either—it might be dangerous—and he certainly didn't want to give his name! He said. "I forbid you to touch that envelope. Now if you'll excuse me a minute, I have to answer the phone." He turned her back on her and left the room. She put the envelope into her overcoat pocket and left in the opposite direction.
Back at her car, she called Norman and told him the news.
In Dora's car, Persephone said glumly, "Alan wants me to seduce you." When Dora didn't reply, she went on, "He says that I should try it on my own, but bring you home to him for a threesome if that seems like a good idea, or maybe see if Dori is interested, and don't forget Beck."
Dora said, "This must be hard on you."
"I handed him the Paradigm phone directory and asked him to cross off any names he found totally unacceptable. He laughed."
Dora smiled. "Tell him I've sworn off physical relationships for a while. Until my head stops spinning, at least."
Persephone, who was snuggled up against Dora and was holding her right hand while Dora steered left-handed, asked, "How physical?"
"This is fine."
"How about first base? Please?"
"Anything up to but not including first base," said Dora firmly.
Persephone turned her face away, "I know what you're thinking. Alan must be really bad for me if I need someone else so desperately." Actually, Persephone was afraid Dora was thinking far worse things than that.
Dora did not reply. She pulled into a parking space in front of the restaurant she'd selected. "Here we are," she said.
R. Alan hummed to himself as he strolled through the Underground. Persephone was taking the evening off to visit friends, and that was good! R. Alan was tracking down the cadmium, and had no idea what he'd do when he found it. Persephone didn't like plunging into danger without a plan.
He was in no hurry. At one point he found a short piece of pipe and used it to trace a hopscotch outline. His android reflexes were good, but it became a challenge if he spun around three times and did the whole thing with his eyes closed.
Eventually, he reached the point where the phone call had been made. Look! There was the cable! And three sets of tracks. One set, carefully obscured, must have been made by the person who installed the cable. The other two … he laughed. They must be from Roger Smith and R. Dorothy Wayneright. Dorothy had the most darling little feet! And Roger … R. Alan was torn. He loved feet. If he had the choice, whose toes would he play with first?
There was a soft metallic sound behind him; the safety being released on a pistol.
"Alan Gabriel!" said a woman's voice.
R. Alan turned. Oh, what joy! It was darling Angel! And she'd come to play! She was wearing her pink leather jumpsuit. It was so slutty, he wanted to squeal with delight. She was pointing a pistol at him—an ugly, black automatic, very masculine—and looking at him with loathing.
He grinned at her. "Sneaky kitty! I've missed you so much!"
"Don't give me that crap, Alan. I ought to shoot you right now."
"Oh," breathed R. Alan, "you should. You should!" He threw out his arms, "Shoot me in the heart that longs for you so desperately!"
Angel looked disgusted. This excited R. Alan. He was indifferent to Angel's smile, but her negative feelings were powerful turn-ons. He took a step forward.
"Don't come any closer," said Angel.
"Or you'll shoot? Oh, poor Angel. Poor, sweet, innocent Angel," said R. Alan. "You've never shot anyone, have you?" He took another step forward. "It bothers you, sometimes. I can tell. 'Other people kill, why not me? Is there something wrong with me?'"
"Shut up."
"It's all right, Angel. Shoot me! You know you want to. We're all alone. No one will know. You can say I forced you!" He laughed again.
"I mean it, Alan! Stop right there!"
"Just think how it will feel," he said, softly. "All that rage bottled up inside, released all at once. Think of the passion bursting forth from your gun! The harsh feel of the trigger, the kick of the gun in your faintly trembling hand, the report, the sharp smell of gunpowder. Oh, Angel! Is there anything more erotic than the smell of gunpowder?"
"Stop it!"
He took another step forward. "And the bullets slamming into my perfect android body, one after the other. Destroying me. Will you kill me quick, or make it last? Imagine the sound it will make. And look how close we're standing!" He laughed and laughed, producing ghastly echoes. "You'll be spattered with my shards!"
Angel had closed her eyes. She was shaking. She opened them suddenly, eyes ablaze, but the look faded as she realized that she couldn't pull the trigger. She looked miserable.
"Poor Angel," said R. Alan. His chest was almost touching the gun barrel. He reached out his index finger and raised the barrel slowly. Then he gently kissed the end of the barrel. With his eyes locked on Angel's, he licked the length of the pistol. When his tongue stroked her fingers, she shuddered and took a step back.
"Damn you, Alan!" she said. "What have you done with Roger and Dorothy?"
"Me? Nothing!"
"Then why are you here? You've scuffed your nice shoes."
He looked down, and realized to his horror that it was true. He'd been seen in scuffed shoes! It ruined his victory. Then he brightened. No, it took the shine off his victory! Grinning broadly, R. Alan indicated the phone line. "A nasty man tried to sell me some stolen cadmium. One thief deserves another."
Angel considered him coldly. She glanced past him along his fresh footprints in the dust, the only ones on his side of the corridor, and the three sets on her side, one of which was hers. R. Alan could almost hear her thinking about how difficult it was for an android to attack a human, or tell a direct lie. Not impossible; oh no! But difficult, so very difficult. She scowled, holstered her pistol, and wiped her hand on her jumpsuit. In a hard voice, she said, "Roger and Dorothy came here on the same mission and haven't been heard of since."
"A rescue! I'll be their knight in shining armor!"
"Get lost, Alan. I'm doing this alone."
"Shoot me!"
She sighed, defeated. "Come along, then."
"That's a good girl. There's just one thing." He reached out to the big brass ring on the partly unzipped zipper on her catsuit. She jumped back with a cry, but he was too quick for her. He zipped it all the way to her throat, then patted her on the cheek. "Let's not look like a tramp, shall we?"
Dora pulled into a parking space at the hospital. Persephone got out, then hesitated. "Do you want to come inside? I'm sure Ricky would like to meet you."
"Next time."
Persephone plunged back into the car and gave Dora a hug. "Thanks for listening."
"Remember what I said."
Persephone laughed. "Oh, I will!" She walked quickly to the entrance, not looking back. She'd told Dora everything over dinner: salvaging Big Tau, the cadmium, that she knew Ricky, how she'd lied to R. Alan and said she didn't know him, her fear of getting Ricky mixed up in things, her confusion about what side she was on.
Dora had described her own philosophy in a few words. Persephone couldn't quite grasp its essence. It seemed to consist of a transcendental stubbornness motivated by love. But her main point was that you didn't have to choose sides and you didn't have to assign blame. Dora didn't have to choose sides just because Beck hated R. Alan while Persephone loved him; she'd take care of Beck and Persephone—and even help R. Alan if she could. And many things that people imagined were a package deal simply weren't. Just because R. Alan was Persephone's boyfriend didn't mean Persephone had to do what he said. That was her decision.
At the moment, all this made perfect sense to Persephone and she felt empowered. She was going to take action before she reverted to form. And she'd known Ricky since she was five. She was a lot more confident, a lot more comfortable with him than with most people.
She took the steps two at a time. Soon she was in the doorway of Ricky's hospital room, a little breathless.
There he was, his leg in traction, staring sadly at the ceiling. Persephone lounged against the doorway and said, "You lazy bum. I'll bet you haven't been out of bed in days."
His face lit up. "Persephone!" His delight dazzled her.
She felt her answering grin. "That's me." She crossed over to his bedside and kissed him on the cheek. "I'd give you a hug, but I might break you."
"Did you get my message?" he asked, smiling, pleased by the kiss.
"Sorry, I'm hard to get hold of, these days."
"You got that right. Where have you been?"
"It's a long story. I'll tell you in a minute. Are you going to be okay, Ricky? Do you need anything?"
"Company. Friends. Other than that, well, they say I'll heal okay, and Beck paid my hospital bills."
Persephone nodded. "I can be here most days. Maybe not every day."
"It won't get you in trouble?"
She brushed the hair out of his eyes. "Not me. You, maybe."
"You have a boyfriend who's gonna beat me up?"
She shook her head. "If only it were that simple. Are you okay right now? Glass of water, maybe?"
"I'm fine."
"Then listen."
She told him everything.
When she finished he said, "Wow."
"What do you think?" It had been an enormous relief to get it off her chest, but she was sure that her story made her look like an idiot and a tramp. Would he still like her?
He shook his head. "Just … wow." He was silent for a moment, then smiled at her. "Can you really see me almost every day?"
She laughed, delighted, relieved. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course I can! You're a Dominus. Alan will want me to win you over. Seduce you."
"Hey, give it your best shot."
"He may try it himself."
Ricky's face went blank. "Tell him not to bother."
"Okay."
After another pause he said, "I never expected any of this. I'm a true Dominus, and I have been before, in another life."
She nodded.
He continued, "Yes have a special role, too, don't you?"
"Yes. I'm a natural Megadeus mechanic, like Norman Burg. I don't know about the past lives part."
He shook his head in wonder.
"Ricky?" she asked in a small voice.
"Yeah?"
"You don't mind that, that, that I … ?"
"Remember that guy you dated, your junior year?"
"Oh, god, don't remind me!"
"Alan has money, talent, looks, experience, a Megadeus ... At least, this time, you have an excuse."
She laughed, then turned serious. "What about Dora?"
"Doesn't count," he said firmly.
She reached over and brushed the hair out of his eyes again. "Thanks."
"What are friends for? Anyway, you've always stood by me."
The wall split, revealing the elevator car.
Angel bristled, "If you think I'm getting into that, you're crazy!"
"Roger and Dorothy did," said R. Alan.
"And they're missing! They could have died in there!"
"And did Roger's ghost drop his watch into the mailbox?"
"It could've been taken off him after he … I'm not going in there, Alan!"
R. Alan glanced at the cable, headed down. "Is there a ladder?"
"This way."
Roger sat up. "Which headband are you wearing?"
"The one that makes me invisible to Megadeuses."
"Is that one of Beck's or one of Norman's?"
"They're all Beck's. Norman has the plans, but hasn't made any."
"Are you sure there isn't any escape equipment in it? I thought Dori was loaded with stuff like that."
"I never asked." She unclipped the false hairband that covered the slot in her forehead. Her eyes suddenly went very wide. "Oh!"
"Dorothy!" Roger slapped the hairband back into place. He took her by the shoulders and shook her. "Dorothy! Snap out of it!"
Dorothy closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again. "Thank you."
"What happened?"
"There's a Megadeus. Very close. He is ready to be activated. All he needs is an android, willing or no."
"I wonder if those two guys know that."
Dorothy didn't answer. They both stared up at the top of their prison, twenty feet above.
Angel found level B3 without any difficulty. An archway revealed a short corridor that opened onto a broad walkway circling a large hemispherical chamber. She crept cautiously down the corridor, with R. Alan sauntering silently behind. She reached the end of the corridor and bent forward to take a cautious peek. If she hadn't known what to expect from R. Alan, she would have screamed when he put both hands on her butt.
They heard footsteps approaching. Two men were talking. They stopped almost within view.
"I can't believe Gabriel stood us up," said one. "He was on fire for that cadmium."
"Doesn't matter now. Waste of time. We should have stood him up."
"Tell me again. How are we gonna activate it?"
"We're almost there. Let's get the last of the torso armor back on before we try anything else."
"You thought it was going to wake up as soon as you put the reactor on-line."
"Will you shut up? I just hoped, okay? Now that some of the controls are working, maybe we can figure it out."
"Maybe we should just sell it to Beck. Take the easy money."
"We'll get a lot more if we can make it walk around. Come on, I need a beer."
The two walked off. Angel swore inwardly. Amateurs! Well, to hell with them. They couldn't activate a Megadeus unaided in a million years.
She peeked out into the chamber and saw the two disappear into another side corridor.
Angel crossed the walkway and looked down over the rail. Below her was a Megadeus, lying on the floor. It seemed complete except for a couple of torso armor plates. Through the gap, she could see the golden gleam of the reactor, its access hatch bolted in place.
Where were Roger and Dorothy? Angel adjusted her watch, which had the same functions as Roger's, including the ability to track their other watches, and Dorothy as well. Since she and Dorothy were both on the same side of the dome's shielding, she got a fix easily enough. Up that side corridor off the main floor, or maybe a level below it.
"Come on, Alan," said Angel.
No response. "Alan?"
R. Alan had vanished.
"Good riddance," muttered Angel. She vaulted the rail, landing on the cab of a crane a few feet below. Another jump took her to its caterpillar treads. Soon she was running across the main floor.
She reached the corridor without incident. It was empty except for a shaft sunk into the floor; a storage tank, perhaps. If Dorothy were in there, it would explain why her position had been reported as below floor level.
A familiar yet unwelcome noise made her turn around; the Megadeus had just activated. The lights on its face were blinking furiously as it sat up. In the distance, Angel heard an inhuman scream. R. Alan was walking towards it like a badly operated marionette, his eyes wide with fear. His mouth was gabbling data at the Megadeus.
Suddenly, the Megadeus snatched R. Alan and lifted him up to its throat hatch. The gabble of data had stopped. R. Alan was now talking rapidly, shaking his head, trying to convince the Megadeus to let him go. The probe cables reached out like tentacles and pulled him to the command chair. The throat hatch snapped shut.
The Megadeus seemed more alert, more alive now. Its attention was drawn to two men who appeared on the hangar floor, calling to it. The Megadeus slowly got to its feet. The two men ran towards it, shouting. Slowly, deliberately, the Megadeus lifted its foot and brought it down on the nearest man, then twisted the foot as if snuffing out a cigarette butt. It raised its foot again. The second man was running pell-mell for the nearest side tunnel, but he wasn't fast enough. He was stamped in his turn.
The Megadeus' head snapped towards Angel. She could feel its malevolent intelligence. She turned and ran. Surely there was a way out of this corridor!
There wasn't; it was a dead end. She was safe from being stepped on, but the Megadeus threw itself prone and reached an arm down the corridor. Damn these wide corridors, anyway! The Megadeus' questing hand sped towards Angel like an express train. She jumped screaming into the open shaft.
She found herself cradled in Dorothy's arms. This was so unexpected that she wondered if she were dreaming.
Dorothy set her down immediately, and the Megadeus' arm was still overhead, reaching, searching, knocking concrete from the ceiling, with pieces up to fist-sized raining down into their prison. Through some miracle, its fingers failed to discover the shaft, and soon it withdrew.
Angel looked around. No one seemed hurt. She listened. After a couple of minutes of relative silence, she heard the familiar whine of a wheeled Megadeus transport system, which soon faded away. They were alone.
Dorothy asked, "Another blind date?"
Angel, still shaken, just shook her head and sank to the floor. It was going to be a few minutes before she was up to repartee. Right now, she just felt drained; too tired even to weep.
The throat hatch shut behind R. Alan as the probe cables lashed him to the command seat. His forehead tray extended despite his efforts, and the ends of the probe cables rammed home. R. Alan screamed.
The Megadeus was so far gone that it didn't have a name or even a gender. It had lost its humanity and most of its emotions; all but a smoldering malevolence. R. Alan was nothing to it; an accessory, a subassembly. It could act on its own with an android on board. That didn't mean it had to listen to him.
It wanted a Dominus, too, to complete the set. It wouldn't listen to him, either.
R. Alan hated and feared his own robotic side. Androids, like Megadeuses, had a tendency to go insane, robotic, mechanical. R. Alan clung to his humanity, his emotions, his hormones, even his all-too-human neuroses. This Megadeus found this distasteful, and would snuff them out if had the chance, just to keep R. Alan's thoughts from distracting it.
R. Alan writhed. It was all his nightmares rolled into one. He'd never escape on his own. Who would help poor Alan? He thought of Persephone. Perhaps. She had a touching loyalty. R. Dori? Beck would hold her back. Dora? She was a child. Angel? R. Dorothy? None of them would lift a finger for him. He didn't deserve it.
And the cables had been greasy. His beautiful suit was ruined!
These thoughts took almost no time at all, and then R. Alan was wrenched into the present as the Megadeus raised its foot and deliberately stamped on a fleeing man.
R. Alan screamed again, a shrill sound. Its mocking, metallic echoes made him shudder. Megadeuses were inhibited from killing, just like androids. They could only kill if their Dominus approved. This Megadeus was delusional, and pretended—believed—that the orders were coming from R. Alan. The feedback from the probe cables meant that R. Alan briefly believed this, too, and his inner compulsions punished him.
The Megadeus killed the other fleeing man. Through his agony, R. Alan felt a flash of pleasure from the Megadeus. It liked killing.
Now the Megadeus caught sight of Sneaky Kitty fleeing pell-mell. R. Alan whimpered. He loved Angel and also feared her without knowing why. He tried to stop the Megadeus, reason with it, distract it, sabotage it, but it wasn't paying any attention. He raised a flicker of annoyance; that was all.
R. Alan thought hard about Big O and Big B, powerful, fully armed Megadeuses that worked together, and their friend Big Alpha who would join them in an emergency. He thought about the chromebusters and other new weapons of the Military Police. He concentrated on the fact that here, not far underneath Paradigm, they were surrounded by enemies. Their activity would be noted. Time to get out. The Wasteland was so large, so empty. They would be safe. They had to leave right away; drop everything and leave now!
The Megadeus withdrew its arm from the tunnel, abandoning its quest for Angel's life. One human more or less didn't matter. They would escape to the Wasteland and then plan their quest for a Dominus. Preferably one who didn't talk all the time and wasn't disgustingly over-sexed.
The transport system was in perfect working order. Soon they were underway.
Angel sighed. She held out a hand and Roger hoisted her to her feet. Normally she would have flung herself into his arms, but right now it seemed like too much trouble.
"Hard day?" asked Roger. He squeezed her hand before letting go, for which she was grateful. She could let her mask slip with Roger and it was okay.
"Yeah," she said. She leaned against the wall of the shaft and said. "I have your watch. Those bozos sent it by mail so we'd have some fun chasing it." She handed it to him.
Roger accepted it, smiling, then asked, "You okay, Angel?"
Still reeling from the horror of seeing those two men killed, but unwilling to talk about it yet, she settled for saying, "That Megadeus just kidnapped R. Alan Gabriel."
"I wondered how it managed to power up so quickly," said Roger cheerfully, putting on his watch. "Do you have any ideas about getting us out of here?"
Angel had recovered a little. She found Roger's confidence comforting. Also, his hair was disheveled; she loved that. Still, she didn't find her smile until the second try. "It just so happens …" She opened her belt pouch and pulled out something that looked like a hockey puck. "Electromagnet." She took a rod out of the pouch and screwed it into the center of the electromagnet. She removed the clip from her pistol, worked the slide to eject the round from the chamber, and put the round back into the clip. Then she pulled out another clip, slapped it in, and worked the slide. "Blanks." She pulled a spool out of her pouch. "Cord." She attached the spool to an attachment under the barrel of her pistol, set a couple of switches on the electromagnet, and stuck its shaft down the barrel. She took aim and fired. The electromagnet struck the wall of the shaft about six inches from the top.
"Dorothy's probably best for this next part," said Angel.
As Roger and Angel watched, Dorothy swarmed up the cord, stuck one hand over the lip of the shaft, and vaulted onto the floor of the corridor.
Angel smiled at Roger and said, "All black is a fashion blunder. She should wear white panties to make it worth your while."
Dorothy pretended not to have heard. She called down, "Put a loop in the cord and I'll haul you up."
Angel came up first, then Roger. Angel retrieved her electromagnet and respooled the cord. Then, wordlessly, they moved quickly to the elevator, skirting two red smears that had once been men.
Roger pressed the elevator's call button, then said, "My client! I forgot all about him!"
Angel laughed. "Then who's going to sign your check, Mister Negotiator? You call Norman; I'll look around."
"I'll come, too," said Dorothy. She and Angel turned around and ran back into the hangar.
Roger took the elevator up one level. His watch lit, showing that he was beyond the shielding and had a signal. He spoke into his watch, "What's happening, Norman?"
"Master Roger, it's good to hear from you at last! A Megadeus has appeared at the edge of town and is moving rapidly towards the Wasteland. Mr. Beck has already been alerted to its presence."
"That Megadeus just kidnapped R. Alan Gabriel," said Roger.
"Indeed sir. It has my heartfelt sympathy."
"Is it causing any damage?
"None to speak of, sir."
Dorothy and Angel had retrieved Roger's client from the living quarters of the two men. He looked rumpled and unhappy but unharmed.
Roger brought the two women up to date. Then he asked Dorothy, "What will happen if we let the Megadeus go?"
"I have no idea."
"Can we make it give Alan back?"
Dorothy looked at Angel, who shrugged. "Beck might know," said Dorothy.
"What? Are you crazy?" shouted Beck into the telephone. "No, I'm not going to rescue Alan Gabriel. What kind of an idiot do you think I am? If his damned Megadeus causes trouble, okay, we'll kill it. That's our job. And I suppose we can make an effort to pull Alan out of there alive. Otherwise, good riddance. I hope they're very happy together." He slammed down the receiver. "Jerk."
R. Dori was standing behind him. She said nothing.
Without turning around, Beck said, "Stop looking at me like that." When she didn't reply he said, "I hate Alan Gabriel! I hate what he's done to this family. I hate what he's done to you."
She put her arms around him.
"I'm not rescuing him," he said.
"I haven't asked you to. But if you don't, someone else will."
He stiffened. "I hadn't thought of that." Maintaining their monopoly on Class M androids was essential in preventing anyone but their friends from activating otherwise comatose Megadeuses. Even a nut job like R. Alan Gabriel would be worth his weight in diamonds to their enemies. "Damn it to hell!"
But the Megadeus had vanished. After making a thorough search in Big B, Beck returned home and declined to look further.
Persephone was talking quietly to Ricky—he was tired and in pain, so they were talking of inconsequential things—when she realized that they were no longer alone. Dora was in the doorway.
Persephone looked from Dora to Ricky and back again. She said, "He knows everything."
"Alan has been kidnapped by a rogue Megadeus."
A horrible, sharp smell filled her nostrils and a woman's voice said, "Wake up, dear." Persephone was lying in one of the other hospital beds in Ricky's room. A nurse was waving a bottle of smelling salts under her nose.
"What happened?" asked Persephone. She instantly felt embarrassed by her clichéd question and the inevitable clichéd response.
"You fainted, dear. Just lie there for a few minutes before you try to get up." She departed.
"Sorry." She tried to gather her wits. Dora came over and held her hand, which embarrassed Persephone anew. Not in front of Ricky!
Dora said, "Alan's been kidnapped by a rogue Megadeus. The Megadeus killed two treasure-hunters and left town. We don't know its name."
"Is it one of the crazy ones?"
"Yes. Angel watched it kill the treasure-hunters, and she says it enjoyed it."
"We have to save Alan!"
"Roger and Jason have already refused. We don't expect to hear from Will and R. Emily for six days."
"Oh, if only Big X were working!"
Ricky groaned, "What a time for me to be in traction!"
Persephone got to her feet, still feeling just a little light-headed, and crossed over to Ricky. She kissed him on the forehead. "It would be great to have you at the controls when we rescue Alan." She turned to Dora. "Do you have a plan?"
"Yes. Big X will accept me as a temporary Dominus."
This was news to Persephone, but wasn't it academic? "But he's so badly damaged! Just moving the reactor will take forever, and there's his leg, too!"
"We'll move Big X's core memory into Big Tau."
Persephone gasped. Of course! It was much simpler that way. "How long will it take?"
"A week."
"Anything could happen in a week! If that Megadeus causes trouble, they'll kill it, and Alan, too!"
"We'll get more people. Tony will be glad to help."
[To Be Continued]