Phillip Garsten stood looking around his office in bewilderment. The screens were turned on, and a bug thing with a wire coming out of it was plugged into the computer. Another bug and a beer-can robot were up on the desk; there was a piece of cord hanging down over the edge from the lamp; and there was a carpenter's tape and other junk all over the floor. . . . What in the name of God was going on?
He looked at the screen facing him, and his face darkened. It was showing entries from the Heber files. This was serious. He touched the smaller bug on the desk warily. It fell over. He nudged the larger one; it was just as inert. Of course, he told himselfthey'd been controlled from the van, and the van was gone. All the same, he felt relieved.
What to do? His eyes darted around uncertainly while his mind worked. They had expected to find Heber's technical chief, Corfe, because Vanessa said Corfe was using the van. Without a doubt, Lang hadn't been working alone. Therefore, Corfe was still out there somewhere. Would he go to the police? Garsten didn't know. But one sure thing was that if they came here and found all this going on, a lot of inconvenient questions would get asked. And with one thing leading to another, all kinds of complications were likely to develop that everyone could do without. Get rid of the evidence and deny everything, he decided. First leave everything clean; then consult with Martin and Vanessa.
He went through to his own officethere was no sign of anything amiss thereand returned with a large leather briefcase that he used for carrying legal files. Still handling them cautiously, he put the micromecs inside, added the other things from the floor and the cord that had been tied to the lamp, plugged the keyboard back into the computer, and shut down the system. Then he stood back to survey the room one last time.
"Son-of-a-gun," he breathed. There were two more of them. One was wedged in the bracket of a wall lamp; the other was in the plant up on the file cabinet behind Susanne's desk. How long had they been there, for God's sake? Now he was getting really worried. He scooped them down and put them in the bag just as Royal came in from checking the outside of the building.
"There was a cover off a pipe at the back," Royal announced. "I found these in it." He opened his hand to show several more bug-size robots and a small plastic package. Garsten shook his head bemusedly and held open the bag. Royal's eyebrows raised. "Was all this stuff in here?"
"We had a mechanical zoo loose."
"Jeez!"
"Did you put the cover back on out there?"
Royal nodded. "Uh-huh. We'd better take a look at the inside as well." He led the way back to where he thought the place was, but Garsten had guessed where he meant before they got there. The inside cover plate was off, and there was another beer-can standing motionless to add to the collection.
While Royal resecured the inside cover plate, Garsten called Vanessa at Microbotics to let her know the situation and to say he was on his way. He and Royal gave the place a final inspection but found nothing more. They turned out the lights, reset the alarms, and left.
"You shouldn't have had them take her back to the firm, Vanessa. Now we're all implicated. It's a mess." Payne was talking over the phone from the yacht on Lake Union. He sounded agitated. Typical, Vanessa thought, controlling herself with difficulty. The minute the going started getting rough. Welcome to the real world, Martin.
She was back on the top floor of the laboratory block with Finnion. Eric was getting close to the target stretch now, where the road wound up a valleyside of sheer cliffs and gorges. Vanessa had changed into the VR body suit and had plugged in the helmet in readiness.
"Where else was there to take her?" she snapped. "Obviously she was working with Corfe, since he borrowed the van yesterday. We had to get her out of sight, off the streets."
"It means the whole thing's off," Payne began. "We're going to"
"No, it does not. We're all set to go here. It's literally a matter of a few minutes now, and it'll be all over. We can't let it pass by now, Martin. There's no knowing when there might be another chance like this. Everyone's keyed up. We have to see it through."
"But she's there at the firm," Payne protested. "She knows I'm involvedPhil, all of us. Are you going to get rid of her too? This has got to stop. And in any case, Corfe's still loose over here in the city somewhere."
Vanessa sighed. "Martin, calm down and think about it. If Eric has an accident up in the mountains, there's absolutely nothing to connect us with it. That was precisely why we decided on doing it this way. Whatever Corfe and this woman are involved in has to do with something else."
"But what?"
"How can I know yet? Probably they're just meddling. But it puts them more in the wrong than us. She was involved in breaking into premises that this company has a perfectly legitimate contract to protect. So at worst, Andy stands to be reprimanded for letting his security people act over-zealously, that's all." Finnion nodded silently from across the room. "And I'm sure that with his connections he's well able to take care of something like that." There was a knock on the door. Finnion moved to open it. A man in a gray overjacket stuck his head in and murmured something.
"Well, I just hope you're right, Vanessa," Payne went on. Finnion caught Vanessa's eye. "I can't afford to risk any"
"Just a moment, Martin."
"She's hereover in Security," Finnion murmured.
"Martin, they've got her here now," Vanessa said. "Phil should be on his way. Andrew will call you after they've had a chance to talk to her. But we need to take care of this other business first. It's almost time. I'll call you as soon as it's over." She hung up without waiting for an answer.
Finnion looked at the man who had brought the news. "We've got some business to wrap up here. Tell Kyle I'll be over there as soon as we're through. She's a lawyer, and we're probably a bit out of line, so lay off any rough stuff. Give her a cup of coffee or something." The man in the gray overjacket nodded and left, closing the door.
They brought Michelle across the Evergreen Bridge and out to Redmond. She saw the Microbotics sign from the highway. The Lincoln took the next exit, followed a tree-lined avenue to the premises, and parked behind what appeared to be the main building. The man in the dark raincoat led the way up to a second-floor room with consoles and closed-circuit TV monitors that looked like a security center, to a small office at the back. Then he disappeared, leaving her with the two who had sat beside her in the car. They remained as uncommunicative as they had been through the drive.
Now she was even more scared. This whole facade of running a legitimate business was little more than a cover. The real moneymaking line that these people were in, that bought mansions in Bellevue and yachts like the Dolores, was stock manipulation and illegal use of investors' funds. Threatened with exposure, they had already shown themselves prepared to kill. And why hadn't it troubled them to bring her here? By the time Garsten showed up and told the other two to wait outside, she was close to having convinced herself that she was about to be shot on the spot.
"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded hoarsely. "You can't go grabbing people off the street whenever you feel like it. It's"
"Do you think you can go breaking into buildings when you feel like it?" Garsten retorted. "This company happens to take care of my security. Legally."
"This still isn't some banana country where people run private armies. How long do you think you'll stay in practice after this?"
"Oh, you just let me worry about that. For now, I'm asking the questions. What did you expect to find there?"
"Enough that you should be very worried." From the frown that crossed Garsten's face, Michelle knew she had scored a point. But just at that moment, all that really mattered to her was finding a way to stall somehow and make her situation safer. Even though a part of her knew that she was going too far, she carried on, unable to check herself. "I wouldn't let your friends here do anything rash, Mr. Garsten. We know about Jack Anastole . . . and the scheme you've been working on since. Don't make it any worse."
That evidently did it. Garsten looked as if he had been punched in the face. He seemed to lose the thread of what they had been saying, and glanced unconsciously at his watch. The transformation was so abrupt that Michelle was at a loss to know what she had said to produce it. Seemingly losing interest in her, Garsten went over to the door and opened it, still looking dazed. He said something to the two men standing outside and went into another office opposite. The two came back in, closing the door, and resumed standing guard.
Jack Anastole had been strictly Martin and Vanessa's affair.
Garsten had been just a go-between carrying messages. He hadn't even known what they were planning until after it was over. He could clear himself of the worst from that; there was no reason why he should have to go down with them over it now. He pulled across the phone and punched in the number of the room at the top of the adjacent building, where Vanessa had her stuff set up. Finnion answered. Garsten told him to put Vanessa on. Her voice came on the line a couple of seconds later.
"Whatever it is, Phil, you'll have to sit on it. We're almost ready to go here. I'm not available for anything until we're done."
"That's the whole point." Garsten spoke in a low voice, but urgently. "You may have to call it off. I think she may know everything."
"You mean about Eric?"
"I think so."
There was a short pause. "That's not possible." For once Vanessa sounded nonplussed.
"You haven't heard what she just said. I'm telling ya, hold off for Christ's sake."
A long, dragging silence followed. Then, "Get her over here," Vanessa's voice said.
Garsten went back out and collected Michelle and her two escorts. As they were leaving to go across to the lab block, Kyle, the duty supervisor, took an incoming call. "One moment, Mr. Garsten." Garsten stopped. Kyle drew him aside while the others waited.
"I've got the Seattle police on the line," Kyle muttered. "They're at your office now, with a Mr. Corfe. He's saying something about a stolen van, and that a woman is being held inside, but they don't have sufficient grounds to enter. Would you like to talk to them?"
Garsten groaned and shook his head. "Not now. I'm not here, understand? You're the security company responsible. Can you get over there and deal with it?"
"Yes, sir, I can."
"Do that. I'll clear it with Andy later." Garsten rejoined the others at the door, and they left together.
Something didn't add up, Vanessa could see. Although she was trying hard not to show it, the Lang woman was a lot more frightened than someone ought to be for just being caught raiding an office. She looked as if she thought her life was at stake.
They were in a storage room a few doors along from the room where the VR equipment was set up. Garsten and Finnion were with them, and two of Finnion's men were outside in the corridor.
"Jack, my ex-husband?" Vanessa said, when Garsten finished repeating what Michelle had told him. "What about him?"
"You tell me," Michelle shot back.
"And exactly what is that supposed to mean?"
"I think you know very well." Michelle's show of defiance seemed to require some effort. "And even if your friendly family lawyer gets you out of that, it would be just too much of a coincidence if anything happens to me too."
Vanessa was becoming aware then of a feeling welling up within her that she was not accustomed to, that she normally managed to keep under control and out of her mind. Only now was she beginning to realize just how much she hated this woman. "And what was this about Eric?" she demanded coldly, ignoring the remark.
"Just that we know all about your plans for him too. Husbands tend not to do very well around you at all, do they?" Michelle made what looked like a feigned tired look. "You might as well acknowledge it now and save yourself a lot of trouble, Vanessa. It's over. Let's be realistic."
Vanessa searched Michelle's face. If this was bluff, she was unable to tell. She went through the implications in her mind, one way, then another, touching on all the possibilities.
And what they added up to was, she couldn't risk it. She hadn't bothered answering Martin on the phone earlier about getting rid of Michelle because then the question had been too idiotic; but now, suddenly, there was no choice. There seemed a real chance that Michelle and Corfe had indeed unearthed something damning to do with Jack's death; therefore, they would have to be silenced. One was here already, and it wouldn't take long to track down the other.
The ironic part was that Michelle herself had brought it on them both by not keeping her mouth shut, which made her a fool on top of everything else. And that made all the other things that Vanessa had been holding back come boiling out. It might be quick when it happened, maybe just a bullet without warning. There might not be time then. But just in case, before it happened, Vanessa wanted her to know.
"You stupid little bitch!" she spat. "You had to, didn't you? You just had to! You couldn't leave it alone. Can you see what your interfering in what wasn't your business has done for both of you now?" Now Michelle was looking bewildered. Vanessa pressed on, "Yes, all right, we did it! Jack was another one like you: didn't know how to be satisfied when he was on to a good thing. He had to come back and interfere in what was over his head too." She paused for a moment, enjoying the incredulous expression spreading over Michelle's face. "Do you want to know how? You might as well, because you're not going to be telling anyone now. Well, just ask yourself, what can go in through a locked hotel-room door . . . or maybe under it?" She waited, then gave a satisfied nod. "That's right, honey. I think you're getting the picture now."
Michelle was shaking her head protestingly. "It still won't do you any good. Eric will"
Vanessa laughed. "Forget Eric. He won't be around for much longer to be doing anything. In fact . . ." She looked at Finnion. "How are we doing?"
But before Finnion could say anything, Michelle gasped. Her face went pale. She was staring, horrified at the VR body suit that Vanessa was wearing. Its significance had just dawned on her. "Oh, my God, it's now! You're doing it today!"
Vanessa saw then that Michelle's own bluff had backfired on her. Michelle hadn't known about that part. Neither, then, would Corfe know. It followed, then, that if Eric went ahead and had his accident, neither would anyone else. They didn't have to postpone things at all.
Vanessa also saw something else. It was just a glint of light off something metallic, but enough for her to spot the mec ducking back into Michelle's coat pocket. With a masterful effort of self-control, she managed not to let her expression alter while her mind raced. Who was controlling it? It couldn't be Corfethe van was here at Microbotics. Eric was on his way to the conference. But whoever it was had heard and probably taped everything. It could only be Kevin, relaying through the van, which meant he had to be in the lab at Neurodyne.
"I think our friend here could use a glass of water," she said to Finnion. "I'll be back in a moment." Finnion looked puzzled, but nodded. And forcing herself not to show undue haste, Vanessa left the room.
Outside in the corridor, she walked quickly back to the room where the equipment was and activated the communications software in one of the processors. She set it to call an access number into the Neurodyne research system, and it connected after about twenty seconds. This was a system that Vanessa knew intimately. Working deftly, she identified the control computer handling the DNC coupler that Kevin was using. He was still coupled in, with the executive program running. Vanessa typed in a patch of code and sent it over the link to disenable the exit routine. It meant that the operator would be locked into the system, unable to decouple using internal commands. For good measure, Vanessa also blocked the device control supervisor, making it impossible for him to communicate with any mecs.
Then she went back to the other room, called Finnion outside, and explained what had happened. "It's Kevin," she said. "Something in the van downstairs is still operating. He's linking through from the lab back at Neurodyne. But I dialed in and fixed the software to stop him coming off the machine. So we can figure out what to do with him later, after I talk to Martin. In the meantime, it doesn't change the main business. We take care of that first. It's almost time. Do you want to bring Phil?"
For a while, Kevin was too numbed by what he had heard to know what to do. The talk seemed to have stopped. He risked another peek from Michelle's pocket and saw that Vanessa, the mustached man whom he now knew to be Garsten, and the thickset one they called Andy, had left. Michelle didn't seem to be in any immediate danger. While things were quiet, he could exit quickly and warn Eric via his car phone. He called down the Control menu and flagged the exit option to decouple. Nothing happened.
He tried again. Again the system didn't respond. Something was suddenly very wrong.
When he tried reconnecting to the mec, that was dead too. Desperately he selected alternate channels to the other mecs that they had left in Garsten's office. Nothing. He tried activating others that were still in the van, development models in the lab around him, and models in other parts of Neurodyne. Nothing.
And that was when he panicked. His father was about to be murdered, and apart from Michelle, he was the only person who knew. But he was trapped, unable to move, with all his senses and motor functions locked into a machine. In effect, paralyzeduntil somebody released him from the outside.