him. Didn’t you say he threatened to nuke you from orbit on that planet?”
“That was different. He pulls a stunt like that here and all kinds of people are going to get suspicious. Questions will be asked, people will start poking around. As I already said, for some reason he wants his presence to go unnoticed.”
“So you think he’s going to just walk in here for a face-to-face?” Grimes looked skeptical.
“No. But he’ll want to talk. It’s part of his arrogance. He’ll hack into the comms network, or send a slaved human in to talk. Something like that.” Hamilton replied.
“All we can do is wait?” Grimes didn’t look happy.
Hamilton nodded. “All we can do is wait.”
CHAPTER FOUR
The waiting lasted two more days. During the wait, the automated systems kept them supplied with food and drink and the facilities kept them occupied. But two days waiting for the hammer to fall wore on them.
Lewis did not appear, leading to further speculation that she had sold them down the river and worked a deal of her own with the authorities. Whatever the reason for her absence, it was too late for them to worry about it now.
Eventually, however, Walsh made his move. It came not as any of them had expected. As they sat around, discussing the situation at hand, or old times, a computerized voice warned them all to stand clear of the entryway.
Seconds later, a man in a protective biohazard suit entered, looked around and, seeing nothing untoward, lay a small package down on the ground. The speaker in his suit announced that there was a “delivery for a Mr. Hamilton, from a Mr. Walsh.” Then the man turned and stepped back through the Q-section door into the decontamination corridor beyond and was gone before they could ask any questions.
Hamilton and the others approached the package warily.
“Do you think it’s a bomb of some sort?” Jones asked.
Rames shook his head. “Explosives wouldn’t get past the port scanners.”
“No explosives we know about.” Klane added.
“No.” Hamilton frowned. “It’s not his style. Not right now, anyhow.”
“Why let us know it was from him?” Grimes inquired.
Hamilton shrugged. “He has a sense of theater, or drama. It seems to be the way he does things.”
“We could just ignore it.” Jones suggested.
“No, that’s exactly what we can’t do.” Hamilton said. He bent down and picked up the box. It was a standard transport carton, in use all across the Empire. The difference was that it had no transit markings of any sort. Whatever it contained, the box had originated on the station. Which meant that the deliverer probably had something to do with Walsh.
Or he could just be some patsy paid a few credits to deliver it . Hamilton thought. He walked back over to the comfortable lounge area with the box and sat down. The transit seals were still in place on the box.
The rest of the two ship’s crews followed and sat around him, eager to know what it was. Rames had told his crew a little more over the last two days. Not the truth about Walsh, but just that he was a dangerous individual that they were trying to catch.
Hamilton snapped the seals and lifted the carton’s lid, revealing a small, dark gray box several inches square. Hamilton reached in and removed it, then cleared the carton from the table he sat at and placed the box in front of him. There was an obvious button on the top of it.
Hamilton hovered a finger over it. “Just in case, you might want to stand back a bit.” He advised the rest. They moved away a little, but not that much. Hamilton prodded the button with a finger.
The box began to change shape then. Parts slid aside and flipped. Other areas rotated. Some pieces even folded over onto themselves via some manner. It quickly became apparent what the device was turning into.
“It’s a communicator of some sort.” Klane observed.
The box was becoming a communicator. The sort that was frequently used by
“That was different. He pulls a stunt like that here and all kinds of people are going to get suspicious. Questions will be asked, people will start poking around. As I already said, for some reason he wants his presence to go unnoticed.”
“So you think he’s going to just walk in here for a face-to-face?” Grimes looked skeptical.
“No. But he’ll want to talk. It’s part of his arrogance. He’ll hack into the comms network, or send a slaved human in to talk. Something like that.” Hamilton replied.
“All we can do is wait?” Grimes didn’t look happy.
Hamilton nodded. “All we can do is wait.”
CHAPTER FOUR
The waiting lasted two more days. During the wait, the automated systems kept them supplied with food and drink and the facilities kept them occupied. But two days waiting for the hammer to fall wore on them.
Lewis did not appear, leading to further speculation that she had sold them down the river and worked a deal of her own with the authorities. Whatever the reason for her absence, it was too late for them to worry about it now.
Eventually, however, Walsh made his move. It came not as any of them had expected. As they sat around, discussing the situation at hand, or old times, a computerized voice warned them all to stand clear of the entryway.
Seconds later, a man in a protective biohazard suit entered, looked around and, seeing nothing untoward, lay a small package down on the ground. The speaker in his suit announced that there was a “delivery for a Mr. Hamilton, from a Mr. Walsh.” Then the man turned and stepped back through the Q-section door into the decontamination corridor beyond and was gone before they could ask any questions.
Hamilton and the others approached the package warily.
“Do you think it’s a bomb of some sort?” Jones asked.
Rames shook his head. “Explosives wouldn’t get past the port scanners.”
“No explosives we know about.” Klane added.
“No.” Hamilton frowned. “It’s not his style. Not right now, anyhow.”
“Why let us know it was from him?” Grimes inquired.
Hamilton shrugged. “He has a sense of theater, or drama. It seems to be the way he does things.”
“We could just ignore it.” Jones suggested.
“No, that’s exactly what we can’t do.” Hamilton said. He bent down and picked up the box. It was a standard transport carton, in use all across the Empire. The difference was that it had no transit markings of any sort. Whatever it contained, the box had originated on the station. Which meant that the deliverer probably had something to do with Walsh.
Or he could just be some patsy paid a few credits to deliver it . Hamilton thought. He walked back over to the comfortable lounge area with the box and sat down. The transit seals were still in place on the box.
The rest of the two ship’s crews followed and sat around him, eager to know what it was. Rames had told his crew a little more over the last two days. Not the truth about Walsh, but just that he was a dangerous individual that they were trying to catch.
Hamilton snapped the seals and lifted the carton’s lid, revealing a small, dark gray box several inches square. Hamilton reached in and removed it, then cleared the carton from the table he sat at and placed the box in front of him. There was an obvious button on the top of it.
Hamilton hovered a finger over it. “Just in case, you might want to stand back a bit.” He advised the rest. They moved away a little, but not that much. Hamilton prodded the button with a finger.
The box began to change shape then. Parts slid aside and flipped. Other areas rotated. Some pieces even folded over onto themselves via some manner. It quickly became apparent what the device was turning into.
“It’s a communicator of some sort.” Klane observed.
The box was becoming a communicator. The sort that was frequently used by
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