“Really?” ChienChu asked unsympathetically. “How ‘bout the people on Long Jump? You know ... the ones you killed. I’ll bet that hurt too. Now get up.”
“Screw you,” Jepp said sullenly. “Wait till I tell the
Hoon—he’ll send some robots .. “
“Who can kiss my hundred year old ass,” the industrialist said conversationally. ChienChu bent over, secured a second grip on the human’s collar, and dragged him toward the hatch. Jepp squealed all the way.
Alpha dithered for a moment, stepped forward, and stopped when Veera sang two or three notes. Once in the corridor, ChienChu jerked Jepp to his feet and stood him against a bulkhead. Veera, who had just discovered that the portly middle-aged man was more than he seemed, watched in openmouthed amazement.
“Now,” the industrialist said, “Veera tells me that you know where the Hoon’s processor is located. More than that, she says you know how to kill the damned thing. Is that true?”
The human directed a dirty look toward the Prithian.
“She lied.”
ChienChu’s normal reaction to people like Jepp was cerebral rather than physical. But the industrialist was tired, frustrated, and more than a little angry. He hit the would-be messiah in the gut, watched him bend over, and let go. The exprospector collapsed.
ChienChu waited for Jepp to recover, pulled him to his feet, and held him there. “There’s a liar aboard this ship... but it isn’t Veera. You know where the Hoon is because this ship is identical to the one used by Hoon number two. It switches back and forth but is currently in residence. Jepp nodded reluctantly.
“Good. Take us there.”
“Senator Ishimoto Six?”
A hand touched his arm, and the clone awoke with a jerk. His neck hurt from steeping in the waiting room chair, and his mouth tasted like the bottom of a recycling vat. “Yes?”
The doctor looked tired. “We’ve done everything we can. Miss ChienChu is stable ... but in serious condition.”
Six stood. “Can she travel?”
The doctor shrugged. “Under normal circumstances I would say ‘no,’ but given the resources at your disposal,
I’ll say ‘yes.’ “
“Thank you. Doctor,” Six said gratefully. “You won’t be sorry. I know you think the Hegemony is strange—but when it comes to culture grown organs—ours are the very best.”
The doctor nodded. What the clone said was true, and everyone knew it. “I’ll have the orderlies transport her to your ship.”
The medic left, and Six peered into the murk. A khaki clad body lay on the floor. The politician walked over, bent down, and touched a shoulder. “General? She’s ready to go“
Booly groaned, rolled over, and shielded his eyes.
“She’s okay?”
“As okay as someone who has severe cardiopulmonary damage can be.”
The clone extended a hand, the legionnaire took it, and pulled himself up. “Can I see her?”
Six jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “If you hurry.”
Booly nodded, made his way past the reception desk, and located Maylo’s cubicle. Tubes snaked into her arms, through her nostrils, and up under the covers. Her eyes were closed, the respirator wheezed, and a monitor beeped. A pair of androids were there, fussing with her sheets, and checking the portable monitors. The officer looked into a pair of scanners. “Can I be alone with her for a moment?”
The reply was respectful but somewhat flat. “Sir, yes, sir. Five minutes. The ship’s waiting.”
