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Kittridge's?"
"A joint effort. He and Hilda worked together on the an dies answered
Pat. "And, initially, she helped him on the anti-Tek work, too. But
once Kittridge got close to achieving his goal, he and Hilda parted
company. That happened about a month or so ago."
"Was there a romance, tooT"
Nodding, she drank some of her ale. "More on her side than his,
however."
"Would she be likely to try to kill him? Out of anger at being--"
"No, Hilda doesn't work that way. She'd be much more likely to consult
a team of good attorneys and sue the man."
"Any idea where she might be hiding out?"
"Across the border. She went down there a lot, with Kittridge and
alone."
Jake sipped his ale. "If Bennett Sands is financing the anti-Tek
research--what's he get out of it?"
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"He sells it to the government when it's perfected. Don't even bother
about the possibility of his planning to donate it to the world.
Your wife didn't tell you much about Sands, did she?" "Not a lot, no.
Mostly because I never asked." "You should've, Jake." "Why?"
"Because he isn't exactly a decent man. He's in this simply out of
greed, which is never a very admirable motive."
"Do you know where he is?" \Finishing her ale, she leaned back.
"Be very careful," Pat cautioned. "Something could happen to
you---even worse than what happened to Gomez."
"So I've been told."
Jake sat straddling the white chair. He'd just given Gomez a concise
account of what he'd found out during the day. "A lot more than
insurance seems to be involved," he concluded.
His injured partner was propped up in the wide white bed. His left leg
was uncovered and in a white plasticast for about two-thirds of its
length.
"Okay, there's another obvious possibility that seems to be lurking
behind the facts here." Gomez's curly hair was somewhat subdued
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tonight. "It must've occurred to you."
"The possibility that Dr. Kittridge and his daughter aren't dead--and
didn't even crash."
"Yeah, that the crash is a fake"
"Rigged by who?"
"Could be the Kittridges themselves."
Jake nodded. "To throw off the Tek kingpins who are anxious to halt
their researches."
"Or, amigo, they may want to elude Bennett Sands. He contributes
millions to the perfecting of the anti-Tek gimmick. Then Dr.
Kittridge appears to die. A few months later another scientist
entirely introduces his anti-Tek gimmick and reaps all the profits.
He's a front for Kittridge, but Sands doesn't know that. You're making
forlorn faces. You don't like this scenario?"
"I don't, even though it's plausible."
"You object because it would mean Beth Kittridge is a party to a
fraud--and you don't want to believe she's capable of anything like
that."
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"Her father could' ye faked the crash without telling her about it in
advance."
"She's supposed to be smart. Wouldn't she be likely to
inquire--"Gloriosky, Daddy, why ever are we landing here in the middle
of this great big old forest instead of at the goddamn airport?""
\Jake said, "Another obvious possibility, with Sonny Hokori
involved, is that they were shot down deliberately. And are dead."
"Just as likely that he waylaid their skycmiser and grabbed them,"
suggested his partner. "Because there's another interesting
possibility to this electronic Passover the doctor and his daughter
have been planning. If that comes off, then all the Tek in the
universe is going to go blooey." He held up a forefinger. "But maybe
not Sonny's. Not Sonny's if he gets Dr. Kittridge to provide his Tek
chips with a defense against this high-frequency stuff."
"Sure--that way Hokori would have a global monopoly on Tek," said Jake.
"In a way, I hope he is involved in this. I'd like to meet him
again."
"Revenge can be tricky," cautioned his partner.
"You've got to depart, Mr. Cardigan," the nurse said and withdrew.
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Jake stood up and said, "I'll be leaving for the Borderland early
tomorrow,"
"Good luck, amigo," said Gomez. "I hope you find them alive." The
Borderland was a vast, miles-wide strip of land that ran between the
United States and Mexico and stretched along the border from California
as far as Texas. A wide-open territory, it was governed by Mexico and
attracted tourists from all across the world.
Las Cruces was as freewheeling as any of the Borderland towns, and when
Jake arrived there early in the afternoon all its many streetlights
were full on, glaring, blinking, flashing and offering hundreds of
bright-colored invitations and temptations. There were also dozens of
huge vidscreens, animated ad walls tri op billboards and hologram
teasers.
Through the dust-streaked plaswindows of the lan&ab he'd taken from the
airport he saw a succession of hotels, cards, cantinas, gambling
joints, sports pavilions, bordellos and souvenir shops--PACO'S POKER
PALACE, CRAPSHOOTERS' CLUB DELUXE, MOVIE MUSEUM BORDELLO-SLEEP
WITH ANDY REPLICAS OF YOUR FAVORITE STARS PAST
& PRESENT!" ROOSTER FIGHT STADIUM CASA DEL BINGO MAMA
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LAVIDA'S NATURAL BORDELLO--LIVE HOOKERS ONLY! WRESTLING
HALL--STRONGMEN VS. ROBOTS!
\"Here's something that hasn't changed much in four years," he said
to himself.
"Caramba/" exclaimed the robot cabbie. "We are arrive, seho?." He was
copper colored and his costume consisted of just a multicolored serape
and a tasseled sombrero.
The land cab rattled, gave out a few moderate explosive sounds and
thunked to a stop in front of the Paloma Hotel, a narrow ten-story
structure of glass, silvery metal and adobe.
Jake dropped the proper amount of pesos into the meter box in front of
him and picked up his single suitcase. "Gracias," he said. "Allow me,
senor, to ask of you a question, pot favor." Jake halted halfway out.
"Sure."
"Have I struck you as sufficiently picturesque, as colorful enough?"
"More than enough."
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"I'm one of the new models the company is trying out. I'd like to get
the tourist reaction."
Jake climbed all the way out of the cab. "Well, they just might want
to run a few more tests. Adios." He made his way into the hotel and
checked in.
Captain Ernest Manzano was not in uniform. A long, lean and sad-faced
man of forty, he was wearing a faded blue warm-up suit. His office, in
one of the underground wings of the Mexican Federal Police Building,
was large and smelled faintly of damp earth. He was sitting behind his
carved wood desk in a slumped position, and he didn't become any more
animated when he noticed that Jake had entered. "Tell me this, }ake,"
he said. "Why waste your time over a couple of missing tourists? Down
on this side of the border people are vanishing all the time. It's
easier just to let them stay that way." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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