his paramour.”
“Hey, I hardly know the man!”
“I realize that. You’re a fine tech, with an enviable record. An asset to Kifel.”
Why was there an undercurrent of a warning in those words?
Politely, Marlee said, “Thank you, ma’am.”
“If anyone questions you about your pip, would you let me know?”
Fear slashed at Marlee’s gut. “Is that likely?”
“No telling. Asuka’s got every available Guardian and security unit tracking down Deacon’s activities since he arrived on Kifel. Teams are covertly scouring the station for a bomb.”
“Such a calamity.”
Woodridge nodded. “Shall I keep you posted on Deacon’s condition?”
Skom, did Woodridge want confirmation there was more going on between her and Deacon? Well, the woman was in for a letdown. “No, ma’am. Don’t bother. I seem ill-fated to cross paths with way too many weirdoes. So, the less I know, the better off I am.”
Woodridge almost grinned, and with, “Enjoy the rest of your day off,” she left.
After the door snicked shut, Marlee trembled with relief. By the time she deposited her mug and the one Woodridge had used, her hands stopped shaking.
When she let Henry out of the closet, the robot rolled past her and pivoted around. He kept his voice low. “Marlee, what are we to do now?”
“I’m not sure. Let’s review what we know, see what our options are, maybe make a plan or two…or three…”
****
Deacon sat on his narrow bed and watched his hospital cell door open.
Henry trundled in, a med-tray in one hand. Dangling from his other appendage was a black cloth bag stenciled with a white smiley face.
The robot stopped at his bedside. “Good evening, Deacon.”
“It’s not a good evening.”
“Affirmative. Yes. Due to your present circumstances, you would conclude it is not a good evening. Rest assured, I shall not be long. I am here to change your burn dressing.”
“Swap vials is what you really mean.”
“Affirmative. Yes. Please cooperate.”
“Do I have a choice? No, don’t answer that.” He stuck out his arm and pulled the sleeve of his hospital pajamas back, revealing the cylinder.
When the robot completed his task, he removed the black bag and handed it to Deacon.
Deacon took the bag, which wasn’t heavy. “What’s this?”
“Patients often become bored when hospitalized. Since you are not permitted the stimulation or stress of a vid-link to movies, news, and other entertainments, I have brought you something.”
“I’m not bored.” He was still angry about Nick not believing him. But Henry had a point. Boredom would set in sooner not later. He reached into the bag and pulled out a glossy black and chrome tablet. “Great. I get to bore myself reading.”
“Negative. No. I personally loaded games for you that will sooth your mind and entertain. Turn the gamepad on. Try G5. ”
Why had Henry emphasized G5?
Curiosity got the better of him. Deacon tapped the on icon and the screen filled with colored squares, but no start menu. He eyed Henry.
Out of Henry’s mouth came a palm-sized holographic display. Words scrolled. Marlee gift. Lower right corner. Blue, blue, red, green. The hologram vanished.
Deacon tapped the squares. The screen flashed to a menu of numbers. He tapped number one. Up came a memo from Marlee. After reading her message, hope and relief filled him. He fought back a grin and looked at Henry to give him Marlee’s code words. “Thank you, Henry. Bottoms Up looks like a fine game to start with.”
“Indeed it is.” Henry picked up the med-tray and the empty black bag, then departed.
It took Deacon less than ten minutes to check out the tools and devices Marlee had incorporated into the gamepad.
The next morning, he followed Marlee’s instructions and lied convincingly enough so the CMO believed him when he said the accident with the bomb demonstration had triggered nightmares about Yokovnin that resulted in lack of sleep and less than clear thinking—the
“Hey, I hardly know the man!”
“I realize that. You’re a fine tech, with an enviable record. An asset to Kifel.”
Why was there an undercurrent of a warning in those words?
Politely, Marlee said, “Thank you, ma’am.”
“If anyone questions you about your pip, would you let me know?”
Fear slashed at Marlee’s gut. “Is that likely?”
“No telling. Asuka’s got every available Guardian and security unit tracking down Deacon’s activities since he arrived on Kifel. Teams are covertly scouring the station for a bomb.”
“Such a calamity.”
Woodridge nodded. “Shall I keep you posted on Deacon’s condition?”
Skom, did Woodridge want confirmation there was more going on between her and Deacon? Well, the woman was in for a letdown. “No, ma’am. Don’t bother. I seem ill-fated to cross paths with way too many weirdoes. So, the less I know, the better off I am.”
Woodridge almost grinned, and with, “Enjoy the rest of your day off,” she left.
After the door snicked shut, Marlee trembled with relief. By the time she deposited her mug and the one Woodridge had used, her hands stopped shaking.
When she let Henry out of the closet, the robot rolled past her and pivoted around. He kept his voice low. “Marlee, what are we to do now?”
“I’m not sure. Let’s review what we know, see what our options are, maybe make a plan or two…or three…”
****
Deacon sat on his narrow bed and watched his hospital cell door open.
Henry trundled in, a med-tray in one hand. Dangling from his other appendage was a black cloth bag stenciled with a white smiley face.
The robot stopped at his bedside. “Good evening, Deacon.”
“It’s not a good evening.”
“Affirmative. Yes. Due to your present circumstances, you would conclude it is not a good evening. Rest assured, I shall not be long. I am here to change your burn dressing.”
“Swap vials is what you really mean.”
“Affirmative. Yes. Please cooperate.”
“Do I have a choice? No, don’t answer that.” He stuck out his arm and pulled the sleeve of his hospital pajamas back, revealing the cylinder.
When the robot completed his task, he removed the black bag and handed it to Deacon.
Deacon took the bag, which wasn’t heavy. “What’s this?”
“Patients often become bored when hospitalized. Since you are not permitted the stimulation or stress of a vid-link to movies, news, and other entertainments, I have brought you something.”
“I’m not bored.” He was still angry about Nick not believing him. But Henry had a point. Boredom would set in sooner not later. He reached into the bag and pulled out a glossy black and chrome tablet. “Great. I get to bore myself reading.”
“Negative. No. I personally loaded games for you that will sooth your mind and entertain. Turn the gamepad on. Try G5. ”
Why had Henry emphasized G5?
Curiosity got the better of him. Deacon tapped the on icon and the screen filled with colored squares, but no start menu. He eyed Henry.
Out of Henry’s mouth came a palm-sized holographic display. Words scrolled. Marlee gift. Lower right corner. Blue, blue, red, green. The hologram vanished.
Deacon tapped the squares. The screen flashed to a menu of numbers. He tapped number one. Up came a memo from Marlee. After reading her message, hope and relief filled him. He fought back a grin and looked at Henry to give him Marlee’s code words. “Thank you, Henry. Bottoms Up looks like a fine game to start with.”
“Indeed it is.” Henry picked up the med-tray and the empty black bag, then departed.
It took Deacon less than ten minutes to check out the tools and devices Marlee had incorporated into the gamepad.
The next morning, he followed Marlee’s instructions and lied convincingly enough so the CMO believed him when he said the accident with the bomb demonstration had triggered nightmares about Yokovnin that resulted in lack of sleep and less than clear thinking—the
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