Royal Flush
Page 2
He hit a red button, and the bucket-o-Jeppsen became translucent, shimmered, then disappeared.
“Where’d you send him?” asked Gary.
“I set it for an asteroid in the Belt. Nobody will ever find the evidence. And according to this telemetry, it worked. The Mover can now send matter millions of kilometers in an instant.”
“Good. I never doubted it would.”
Gary stepped into the Mover and entered a new set of coordinates.
New Tokyo, Mars.
“You realize no living human has ever transported more than one hundred kilometers,” said Bench.
“We’ve run the tests ten thousand times,” Gary said. “It’ll be fine. All we’ve needed is the energy source, and now we’ve got it. Besides, have you ever heard of a better getaway?”
“Good luck, Mr. Shamus. And enjoy your retirement.”
Bench pressed the red button, and Gary closed his eyes, awaiting the strange sensation of chem-teleportation.
While his eyes remained shut, Bench quickly keyed in a new destination.
“Oh, by the way, Mr. Shamus. You should know – operatives such as yourself never really retire – they just get flushed.”
“What?” asked Gary, as he began to shimmer and fade away. “Where are you sending meeeeeeeeee?”
He disappeared before Bench could respond.
The answer Gary never heard was that he was being flushed away to the outer reaches of the solar system.
Uranus.
THE END
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