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"How serious?"
"You might end up graveyard-dead, dear."
Perching on the edge of the pink desk, he leaned toward her and studied her
plump face with narrowed eyes. "Who are these peadejos?"
Corky's voice dropped even lower. "You're messing with a big Tek cartel
here."
"I already know that--a combo of European outfits who seem to--"
"Nope, that's not what you have to worry about, Gomez," she assured him. Then
held up a hand in a wait-a-minute gesture. "Well, let's amend that. Sure,
you've got to worry about them, because they want to get their hands on your
ex, too. But there's danger much nearer to home."
"Somebody else got to her first, somebody local?"
Corky nodded, her chair jiggling. "Why I hear it, honey, it's that runt who
calls himself Johnny Trocadero."
"&; the little hombre who runs the San Diego Sector Tek cartel," said
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Gomez, frowning. "So what do we have here, Cork, Teklords going up against
each other?"
$ 6 "All I know is that dear little Jill must know something that several
nasty bastards are anxious to find out about."
"Trocadero grabbed her?"
"He hired the goons who did the job."
"And they are?"
She glanced toward the closed door of' her of' rice "I think it was a weasel
named Dunkirk. He usually works with a rumdum robot that he built himself ."
"Skinny pertdejo who doesn't even know how to grow a decent moustache.
Gomez fingered his own moustache.
"That's him, hon," she answered. "And before you bother to ask--no, I
don't know where they took her."
"This Dunkirk--is he also the one who's planning to do me and Jake harm?"
"That's what I've picked up, kid."
"Anything else you've come across that I ought to know?" Corky said, "You
better watch out for a lady called Yedra Cortez. Very nasty critter from your
homeland who is the brains and the muscle of
Trocadero's whole setup."
"I've seen that puta before," Gomez said, standing up. "How much do I
owe you for this wealth of information, Corky? It's enough to make a paranoid
of any man and ought to be worth a tidy fee."
"So far it's on the house, lover. For old time's sake and as a little gift to
a damned good customer." She stood, too. "If you want any more--it's going
to be a thousand dollars."
"Top price, huh?"
"It wouldn't take much for any and all of these lowlifes to put my name on
their shit lists right next to yours, Gomez," she
$ ? explained as she came around her desk and took hold of his arm.
"If I'm going to get killed, I ought to make as much as I can off it."
"Sound business philosophy." He allowed her to escort him out of the toyshop.
The small bald man smiled sweetly as he tightened his grip on
Eleanor Monkwood's upper arm. "That's a terrible bad wheeze you got there,
love."
The big green robot was looming on the other side of her chair.
"It's the btoomin' air in these parts," he rumbled, tapping his broad metal
chest with a fist. "Affects my breathing setup some thing awful at times."
The thin woman said, "What .. . do you .. . want?"
"Now, dear, you'll have me believing that you're not paying close enough
attention."
"We already told you," reminded the big hot, "what we want."
"That's absolutely true," seconded the bald, sparsely whiskered man. "I
informed you soon as we arrived that we'd popped in for a bit of
conversation."
Eleanor said nothing, concentrating on letting the oxikit help
? her to breathe.
"To continue." He increased the pressure on her thin arm.
"
"What we came to talk about is this--where's your damned husband?"
"I don't know," she answered. "Probably .. . the university."
"Naw, not so," the robot informed her, tilting toward her some.
$ 8 "He's not on campus where he's supposed to be. Nobody at the school knows
where he's gotten to or what's become of him."
She took a few slow, shallow breaths. "If you know .. .
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where my husband works .. . and you know where I live," she said, "then you ..
. must know .. . that we're separated."
The bald man cocked his head to the right, frowning. "I don't know about you,
mate," he said to the green robot. "But I'm having the devil's own time
understanding what this dear lady is saying."
"Me too."
"Why do you suppose that is?"
The hot's arm creaked when he raised his hand. "Must be that breathing mask
she's wearing."
"I do believe you're right." His stroked his wispy whiskers with his
fingertips. "The bloody thing filters out most of her words, it does."
"Shall I," offered the robot, raising his big metal hand again, "rip it off'?"
"No, that's all right. I can handle the job."
Eleanor pleaded, "No, please .. . I really won't be able to breathe without ..
. it."
The robot shook his head sympathetically. "That's a pity for sure, mum."
"Maybe then you'd best speak up now. Tell us what we came to find out."
"I don't .. . know where .. . he is."
The bald man glanced at his companion. "Did you catch any of what she just
said?"
"Nary a word, no."
5 9 "Sorry, love." The bald man shook his head, sadly, and reached for the
breathing mask.
But he never managed to touch it.
Instead both of his hands went flapping up above his head, His body stiffened, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]