Maylo watched with a growing sense of dread as the carefully laid out farms gave way to low-strung factories and rank after rank of identical high-rise buildings. They looked like what they were meant to be: cold, cost-effective boxes in which workers were “stored” during nonproductive “rest and regeneration periods.”
The business executive glanced sideways, saw the look of eager anticipation on Ishimoto Six’s countenance, and was reminded of how adaptable human beings were. First, they had colonized every conceivable comer of their native world, and later, other planets as well. Even those that swirled with methane, were almost entirely clad in ice, or subjected them to 1.5 gees. More than that, they frequently came to love them, like ducks that imprint on the first animate object they see, and claim it as their own. And here, where an effort had been made to establish the “perfect” society, one could expect to see even more of that. “Beautiful isn’t it?” Six inquired as the ship flared in for a landing.
“Yes,” Maylo lied, remembering similar questions from Booly. He enjoyed looking at rank after rank of carefully arranged legionnaires .. . and couldn’t understand her lack of interest. Men. They were the true aliens.
There was a noticeable thump as the ship settled in. The senator’s assistant, Gorgin Three, appeared at the center of the aisle and announced the obvious: “We’re on the surface now—I will check on the ground transportation.”
Ishimoto Six wanted to stand and choke her into submission. The ‘bitch had boarded the ship at the last possible moment, and by her miserable presence, had prevented him from enjoying some time with Maylo. Some zero gee sex, a pleasure he had enjoyed only once before, would have been a wonderful way to pass the time.
Now, determined to dog him, and report everything he said or did, she was like a cloud hanging over the clone’s head. Solely because she was a fanatic? Or because she had a crush on him? It hardly mattered. The senator growled a reply, gathered his belongings, and prepared to disembark. Maylo did likewise. The tarmac shimmered in the afternoon heat, drives roared as an insystem freighter fought its way up through the atmosphere, and the courier settled onto the blast-scarred pad. The kill ball had been waiting for the better part of a local day. But machines are patient, especially those designed to assassinate people, so the delay was unimportant.
Some environments are difficult to operate in, especially those where a spherical self-propelled droid has a tendency to stand out, but there was no such problem here. The kill ball had simply lowered itself onto a pylon- mounted sensor pod where it looked very much at home. So much so that any number of birds landed on the machine, crapped on the brushed aluminum housing, and made it appear that much more natural.
Now, as the courier’s lock cycled open, the mechanical assassin activated its weapons and rose into the air. The moment had arrived. There was a task to perform. What it was made no difference. A variety of droids converged on the spaceship. The kill ball joined the throng. Gorgin Three stepped out onto the rollup stairway, nodded to the Jonathan Alan Seebo who’d been sent to greet them, and scanned her surroundings. The assassins were waiting, of that she was sure, but where were they? In among the hangers that lined the tarmac in front of her? The thought that cold-blooded killers might be staring at her through high-powered telescopic sights sent a chill down the staffer’s spine.
However, while Ishimoto Seven had told Three what to expect, he hadn’t told her who, or even how. Perhaps death would find Maylo ChienChu, while having a drink or taking a shower. It made little difference. The slut needed to die, deserved to die, for any number of reasons: for her opposition to the Hegemony’s legitimate interests, for the exploitation of workers, and for having sex with Ishimoto Six. Gorgin Three heard movement behind her, turned, and allowed Six to pass. He looked so handsome that feelings bubbled up from deep within her. What did it feel like? she wondered. To let a man... But no, such things were forbidden. She pushed the thought away.
Maylo nodded to the staffer and descended the stairs.
They bounced slightly. The sun warmed her face.
Gorgin Three caught movement from the comer of her eye. turned, and saw the sphere closing in. Some sort of guide drone? On its way somewhere else? No, those were orange. Then it struck her... Something was wrong! The droid paused, hovered, and fired a targeting laser. The dot wobbled across the top of Ishimoto’s head.
Gorgin Three screamed. “No!” at the top of her lungs, launched herself off the stairs, and hit Six with both her outstretched hands. He fell facedown. The high velocity slug tore through the staffer’s body, and the shot echoed across the spaceport.
Jonathan Alan Seebo saw what took place and fired a quick series of shots. Later, after the investigation had been completed, official documents would show that twelve of the fourteen shots fired hit the target and four caused serious damage.
The kill ball took note of the fact that it had failed to hit the assigned target, knew it was damaged, and tried to self-destruct. The mechanism failed, the device lost altitude, and crashed into the tarmac. All in a matter of five seconds.
Six did a pushup, made it to his feet, and turned toward the ship. Gorgin Three lay in a pool of her own blood. The politician rushed to her side. The clone was very near to death. She knew it, and so did he. There was something in her eyes, a tenderness the clone had never seen before, and suddenly wished that he had. “Samuel?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“I would have done it, if you had asked me to.”
Ishimoto Six looked surprised. “Done it? Done what?”
