Oberheim (Voices): A Chronicle of WarLeadem, Christopher
Science
Oberheim (Voices): A Chronicle of War
Leadem, Christopher
Science fiction
After several minutes he got up and began pacing back and forth,
pulling angri-nervoursly at a heavy ring on his right hand. The guards
watched him. Sounds still came from the bedroom at irregular
intervals, horrible to hear. That they were muffled didn't help. At
last he felt that he must make his move.
"May I go into the kitchen? I want another drink."
The guards exchanged glances. The larger of the two said, "Go with
him." The other rose and followed him into the kitchen.
"You want one?" asked the Undersecretary gruffly.
"You know I can't."
"Of course." He looked past the standing man's shoulder. "Wait a
minute. Sergeant, what's that?"
The guard half turned to look behind him. There was a flash of metal
as Morgan brought the blade-tipped ring across his neck. The man
staggered but made no sound, as the poison collapsed both lungs and
heart. Morgan carried him by the armpits and set him down, dead, in a
chair. He unclasped the pistol from the man's belt and peered out into
the hallway.
At that moment there was a cry, suddenly stifled, from the bedroom.
The voice belonged to a man. The bodyguard leapt up from his seat.
"Forget about it, Snipes."
"Morgan. What are you doing with that? Where's Bonnard?" Morgan
fired two short bursts into his chest, then casting aside the body,
broke open the door and entered the bedroom.
Elonna sat shaking on the edge of the bed, trying to dress herself.
Hunter lay dead upon the floor, his face contorted wildly, his limbs
drawn up like a shriveled spider. A trickle of blood could be seen at
his crotch.
"Are you all right?" Morgan asked. He helped her into the coverall,
swept back her tear stained hair. There was a sharp sound as the outer
door was thrown open. A lone soldier rushed in, was killed by Morgan.
"Are you well enough to run?"
"Yes." She shook her head severely, trying to force herself back. "He
was really very gentle at the beginning."
"Don't think about it. We've got to get you out. As soon as his pulse
stopped the soldiers below knew it. Come on! We've got to get you
out!"
He threw back the carpet beside the bed, lifted a trap door. They had
just shut it behind them when four more soldiers burst into the room.
With a shout their captain ran past the body, now half covered by the
rug, and fired a laser burst into the lock. It fused and fell inward,
but even as it did so the door was sealed from without by thick bars of
treated steel. The captain tried to lift it, realized his mistake.
"Tarkin, Nemiah, get your men below and fan out. Block all exits." He
lifted his hand-com, ordered the building and neighboring sections
surrounded, called in air patrols to block the skies. He rolled back
the carpet with his foot, looked with angry disgust upon the body of
Hunter. Two men in white entered with a stretcher.
"Get him out of here." They lifted the body and took it away. The
captain paced the floor.
*
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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