The clear material of the seal proved irritatingly resilient. All too aware that he couldn’t hold his breath indefinitely, Sergei switched to the flap itself. It charred slightly in the dim red glow of the laser, but the beam didn’t break through. He would have growled in irritation if he hadn’t been holding his breath. Whoever had engineered this laundry system should be rewarded. He had cut through solid metal with his scalpel before.
Sergei’s lungs started to burn, and the urge to suck in air, however tainted, grew greater. He wasn’t making fast enough progress with the scalpel. Time to backtrack—and hope six armed guards weren’t waiting in the laundry room.
There wasn’t enough room to turn around, so he had to scoot back down the chute feet first. By the time he reached the vertical portion, his lungs were fighting him, almost spasming in their demand for air. He let himself drop straight down, pressing the button on the remote as he fell. He landed on the flap, the noise audible. There hadn’t been enough room to bend his knees and soften his fall. Not that making noise was the most prominent thing on his mind at the moment. He was too worried that the flap hadn’t opened. The remote that had worked perfectly well to let him into the chute didn’t do a thing now.
He groaned in frustration, unable to fight his lungs any longer. The air he sucked in was heavy with the scent of those bitter orange peels, and he tasted it on his tongue, as well. Hoping he had time before the sedative kicked in, he tried the laser on the flap below him. Maybe it wasn’t as sturdy as the one up above.
But it defied him, too, doing no more than charring under his attack. His eyes blurred, darkness creeping into his vision. The tool almost fell out of his hand. With numb fingers, he dug into his pocket, reaching for the comm unit so he could call Jamie. But he feared he had waited too long. He didn’t even know if his vocal cords still worked. He should have tried her earlier. Maybe some computer could have opened these flaps. But it was too late. All he could do was warn her.
Even as these thoughts tumbled through his mind, his hand bumped against something larger than the comm unit. The glue tube. A desperate idea formed, and he used his last seconds to grab it instead of the comm. He pulled it out of his pocket, only to fumble and drop it. He patted around, afraid he wouldn’t be able to find it in time. Utter darkness surrounded him now, and he didn’t think it was all from the poor lighting. His vision had probably stopped working.
He located the tube, squeezed a few drops of glue onto the side of the scalpel with shaking hands, then did his best to hide the tool. He couldn’t even feel it when it touched his flesh, and he worried he hadn’t managed to attach it. His hand dropped away, too weak for a double-check.
As his eyes closed, his body too heavy to move, he hoped he would wake up again, that whatever guards waited down there wouldn’t simply shoot him. His last thought was that he was glad he had gotten to spend one night with Jamie before what might be the end.
* * *
At first, Jamie hid in the back of the workroom, tucked between two inactive robots, wincing every time a pot clanged or someone yelled in the kitchen. But she knew she wouldn’t be of any help to Sergei that way. In case he needed her, she wanted to do something.
She started by poking around in the control box behind the robots. It turned out to house a small mainframe with access to a private network just for the robots and other household computers. She didn’t have an identification chip that would give her the ability to alter settings or delve deeper into the programs running, but a holodisplay did pop out, showing all of the networked machinery in the towers. She took special note of some cleaning robots located in the penthouse where Laframboise presumably lived.
Maybe she could sneak up to the top of the tower and access the hard-wired circuits to override commands. Or maybe she could find someone who did have an ID chip that allowed access to all of the computer systems. Might someone in the kitchen have that kind of privilege? Or would it take a network supervisor? Even if Jamie knew who could get into the mainframe, how could she trick someone into coming in and pressing a finger on the sensor pad for her? It wasn’t as if she knew how to knock people out and tie—or glue—them up. Sergei hadn’t even returned her glue tube.
A soft buzz came from her pocket. Jamie yanked the comm unit out, afraid someone would hear it, and whispered, “What is it? We’re in the middle of infiltrating Laframboise’s house.”
“Sorry,” Ankari said. “I’ll keep it brief. You’re not the only one whose plans didn’t go as hoped. I wanted to warn you.”
“What happened?”
“It seems our senator was less interested in buying specimens for gut transplants and more interested in shooting us so we couldn’t sell any more of them here.”
Jamie stared at the comm unit. “What?”
“Yes, I was surprised at the violent reception. But apparently, there’s a faction of rebels downside, arranging food deliveries and medical treatments and all manner of help for the people, if you can imagine. The government isn’t happy about it.”
“Is that the faction that hired the captain?”
“Yes. It seems they stole the money to do so, or the equivalent in food items. It was hard to get the whole story between the laser beams flying across the room. They may be responsible for the people who attacked us and tried to steal my briefcase, an instance of the trigger of the rifle firing without checking to see where the barrel was aimed. Those four might not have known we came with Mandrake Company and were buddies with them.”
Buddies. That wasn’t quite the word for the relationship Ankari and the captain shared, but this wasn’t the time for such observations. “You got away, I assume? Are you still in the city over there? Or will we need to find another way back?” Maybe sending that shuttle off on its own private planet tour hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
“Given the state of the capital building here, I’m guessing we’re not welcome back in the city,” Ankari said. “Viktor and his men shot things up badly, and then there was the daring rescue by your pilot friend, Val. It also involved shooting. And cupolas catching on fire. I think a gazebo was blown up too.”
“Well, that’s what they get for messing with you, right?”
“Hm, perhaps. I may be wrong, but I got the impression that Microbacteriotherapy, Inc. was simply going to be asked to leave the planet—and to return the money the hospital paid us—but the fact that Viktor walked in at my side is what caused things to escalate. Apparently, the senator recognized him and was well aware that there’s a bounty on his head. That’s what started the little battle.”
“Uh oh.”
“Yes. Hence my warning. We didn’t give anything away in regard to your mission, but if the senator and Laframboise know each other, she may have sent word that Viktor has been spotted and that his shuttle is nearby. We’re flying around the city now, avoiding some police fighters that were sent to drive us out of the atmosphere, but Viktor has called down the Albatross for backup. We’re not planning to leave without you, but if you haven’t already made your move, you may need to soon. Laframboise is going to know Mandrake Company is in the area, and she’ll be able to take security measures, if she hasn’t already.”
“I understand.” Jamie would have to end this conversation quickly so she could warn Sergei. “Thanks.”
“Call me when you’re ready for a pickup. We’ll find a way to get you. But—” the sound of curses came through the channel, “—we are a little pressed here, so the sooner you’re ready, the better. Viktor said that if you have to abort, it’s fine. He’ll find another way to deal with Laframboise.”
“I understand,” Jamie said again.
“Call back when you can.”
“I will.” Jamie hung up, then immediately called Sergei’s comm unit. She bounced from foot to foot, waiting for him to answer.
How had this night turned so crazy so quickly? For both parties? They had underestimated their enemies, that was for sure, especially how closely connect
ed everyone seemed to be down here.
She nibbled on her lip. Sergei wasn’t answering. He was probably hiding within hearing range of someone. She might need to find another way to communicate with him. Too bad she didn’t know what floor he was on. Maybe she could search for him with the computer system. If she could access the network.
Jamie stepped out of her tiny cubby and grabbed a few tools from the workbenches. Before long, two of the robots were powered up, turned on, and ready to cause some mayhem—or at least fumble around and bump into things. In the pot-rack and cabinet-filled kitchen, that was bound to attract attention.
Before she unleashed her unwitting helpers, she hunted around for someplace to hide. This room had plenty of open shelves, but nothing in the way of closets or even cabinet doors. Where would Sergei hide? He would just appear out of nowhere behind some unsuspecting soul. Or…
Jamie looked up, considering the ceiling. A small vent in the corner marked a heating duct. She didn’t think she could fit through it, but those utility shelves by the door nearly reached the ceiling. Because of their location, a person might walk in without glancing toward them. Walking out was a little more questionable, but she climbed up, anyway, checking out the top. She moved a couple of boxes to lower shelves and carved out a spot where she might curl up. She tossed a drop cloth up there, too, though she didn’t know if she would have time to artfully arrange herself before someone burst in.
She returned to the robots, put them into idle, and rolled them to the door. She listened for a quiet moment, then waved at the sensor to open it. When she released the robots, they rolled out into the big kitchen and began the floor-buffing program she had manually switched them to. She had also disabled the object sensor. They were soon crashing into racks and counters in their eagerness to clean the floor.
Within seconds, someone was shouting.
Jamie closed the door and climbed up the shelving unit. In her haste, she almost upended it. So much for finding inspiration from Sergei—he wouldn’t crush himself under a heavy rack of boxes and painting supplies. She slowed down and made it to the top, curling onto her side on the shelf. She tugged the drop cloth over her body, trying to make her form look more like paint containers than a person lying on her side.
The door opened before she had arranged everything as artfully as she would have liked. She froze.
Heavy footsteps clomped in, audible over the clatter of malfunctioning robots arising from the kitchen.
“I said hold it,” someone out there growled.
“I’m trying. These things weigh half a ton, and I have cake batter all over my hands.”
“I don’t want to know about your personal kinks; just keep it from knocking everything—” The words transitioned into curses.
A clank came from one of the benches in Jamie’s room. Someone grabbing a few tools? The footsteps sounded again, this time racing out of the room. She grimaced. If someone figured out that the robots could be fixed manually, her ruse would have been for naught. Not only that, it might make people start looking around to see who had tinkered with the machinery in the first place. If she ended up doing something that got Sergei in trouble…
She bit her lip. He had almost replaced her with a more experienced engineer and fighter. Maybe that would have been a better choice.
Footsteps sounded again, these the pinpoint clacks of heels. They entered her room and stopped near the far wall. Near the control box? Jamie couldn’t see with the drop cloth draped over her. She risked lifting up the flap high enough to peer out.
It was hard to see much from her elevated perch, her back pressed to the wall, but she could make out the back of a head full of long black hair. Yes, the woman had opened the control box, and she had breezed past the security measures to call up the program that controlled the household robots.
“Did that do anything?” she called over her shoulder.
Jamie lowered her flap, afraid she would be all too noticeable from the control-box side of the room.
The clatter of a heavy pan falling answered the woman.
“It just tried to sand the shoe off my foot,” someone said.
“Those are ugly shoes, anyway,” another kitchen worker commented.
“Ha ha.”
The woman inside the room grumbled something and returned to the control box. Jamie resisted the urge to fidget, though she did mentally will the woman to go out into the kitchen and check for herself, thus leaving that computer online but unattended for a couple of minutes.
“I’m getting Sasha,” the woman finally grumbled and walked out.
Jamie lifted her head. The robots were still giving the kitchen people trouble. “Best chance I’ll get,” she breathed and climbed down. The door had remained open, and she slid it shut, hoping nobody out there would think anything of it. She darted for the control box. The holodisplay remained active, and Jamie swiped a finger through the program, hoping it responded to her.
“Yes,” she whispered when the display changed.
She tapped on the penthouse map, hunting for robots she could use to search. There weren’t many on that floor, but she activated a cleaning robot stationed in a wall cubby next to what looked like a bedroom or perhaps an office. Unfortunately, there weren’t camera feeds that she could check out, not on any program she could see in the settings. The robot had a small camera, however. It would have to be her eyes. She ordered it out of its cubby, hoping nobody would think anything of it, if the robot ambled out to sweep the floor at an unscheduled hour.
Jamie winced at new sounds coming from the kitchen. Someone cried a triumphant, “Got it!” and she didn’t know how much longer she would have. That Sasha person might walk in at any moment, or someone might try to shove the robots back into this room.
The legs of a handmade ebony desk and richly upholstered chair came into view through the robot’s display. A light was on somewhere to the side, casting long shadows across the wooden floorboards. It took a moment for Jamie to identify a large brown suede box with elaborate gold stitching as a trash bin.
This wasn’t a tall robot—its “eyes” weren’t quite high enough to see the top of the desk. Just as well. Maybe the unit would be less likely to be noticed. Jamie turned it to polish mode, guessing that would be the quietest setting, and ordered it to turn a circle so she could see if anyone was in the room. Despite the light being on, the office was empty. Jamie directed the robot to an open door and into a wide hallway. Countless rooms opened up to either side, with the hint of larger rooms on either end and more halls beyond that. The robot rolled toward the next door. Actually, it inched along, determined to polish the floors, not simply traverse them. Its top speed was a quarter of a mile an hour.
“This is going to take forever,” Jamie grumbled.
The din had settled down in the kitchen, and she feared she didn’t have forever.
“…coming,” a voice floated through the door.
Jamie punched in a few orders to direct the robot along a circuit that would take it through the next few rooms, but there wasn’t time to program in a message for Sergei if it happened to locate him. An, “I said I’ll take care of it,” sounded only a few feet from the door. She was out of time.
Jamie swiped a hand through the display to close the program, then sprinted for the shelves. She climbed up, wincing when she kicked a paint container. It wobbled precariously, but she dared not stop to make sure it didn’t fall. The door was sliding open. She lunged for the top shelf, drawing her knees in and yanking the drop cloth over her body again. She didn’t get herself completely covered, but someone was walking in, and she dared not fidget further. Her shelving unit was already trembling suspiciously, thanks to her hasty assent.
But the stocky, toolbox-carrying woman who stalked in was too busy looking at the far wall to notice. Before the cloth fell over her face, Jamie glimpsed the holodisplay and realized why. It was all she could do to keep from groaning. She must have been pulling away as she had sw
iped a finger through the program, ordering it to close. She had missed. The cleaning robot’s camera was still displaying the suite. It was now polishing the floor of a library full of books and reading chairs.
“What the hell?” the woman muttered, then raised her voice. “You said the problem was just with those kitchen robots?”
“That we know about, yeah,” someone said from the doorway.
Well aware that her butt and one of her shoes hadn’t made it under the drop cloth, Jamie held very still, hoping neither person would look up at her shelf.
“That’s the queen’s suite, isn’t it?” another voice asked from the doorway.
“How would I know?” the woman with the tools asked. “It’s not like she invites me up there.”
“Maybe we’ll catch her naked,” a man snickered.
“Ugh, who would want to? She’s like a hundred.”
“She’s not that old. She’s still sexy too.”
“A dozen surgeries will do that for you.”
“I don’t know why that robot is cleaning at this time of day, but I’m going to stop it,” the tool woman said.
“Wait, look.”
The robot had drifted out into the hallway again, then, per Jamie’s programming, turned into a massive bedroom with wrought iron fixtures and dark blue and maroon walls. The decor wasn’t what caught Jamie’s eye. Two men were holding someone against the wall, buckling the person into… were those shackles? A queasy sense of certainty moved into her stomach even before she could fully see the prisoner.
One man squatted down, and the victim came into view. He dangled by the wrists, his bare feet several inches off the floor. The squatting man grabbed one of those feet and locked the ankle into another shackle, then shifted to do the other leg. The victim hung limply through all of this, his chin to his chest. All of his clothing had been removed as had the facial disguise that should have been there. Even if it had still been in place, Jamie would have recognized Sergei by the scars on his torso alone.
Mandrake Company- The Complete Series Page 74