The Pharoah Contract

“Ah, yes. For what reason did you wish to learn about him? It seems to me that our response would be much the same, no matter who he turns out to be. If he’s a tourist, kill him. If he’s free-lance, kill him. If he’s League, kill him carefully. If we’d just killed him carefully at the beginning, that would have covered all the possibilities, and we might have saved ourselves much uncertainty.”

“Marmo, you’re too logical. I know that’s what I pay you for… but have you no curiosity?”

Marmo made no further appeals to logic. For some reason, Corean was unwilling to admit that she wanted the unknown for a toy — though this was abundantly clear in the flush of her cheeks, in the sparkle of her eyes, and in the eager stance of her body.

* * *

Ruiz stepped into the corridor. The initial section was empty, as it had appeared from the Terratonic’s cockpit. The walls were featureless gray meltstone, finished smooth as glass, with lume strips installed at knee height and head height. The greenish light revealed that the corridor ran straight for about a hundred meters, then angled abruptly to the left. Whatever reception had been prepared, it waited around that turn.

Ruiz moved forward swiftly, making little sound. He covered the distance in seconds, conscious of the destruction that might fill the tunnel at any instant. At the turn, he eased carefully up and listened, straining for some clue to what lay beyond.

He heard nothing. Making up his mind, he took out the nerve lash, and rolled around the corner. As he did, a shock wave arrived at the end of the tunnel. It buffeted him as he tried to regain his feet in the still-empty corridor, and then the sound of the explosion reached him. Ruiz rolled helplessly, until he fetched up at another bend, jolting into the wall with enough force to knock the breath from him.

He didn’t notice the tiny fitful buzz of the disabled spy bead that lay a short distance down the corridor.

* * *

Marmo stabbed at the touchplate of his spyscreens, but the screens stayed blank.

Corean looked at him. “When will we see him again, Marmo?”

“When he enters the bunker, so I would suppose.”

Corean gave Marmo another look, lambent with appraisal, and Marmo was suddenly reminded of his place. “Yes, certainly,” Marmo said hurriedly. “I have an additional spy bead there.”

“Can we move it to the foyer?”

“Not until he opens the door.” Marmo was carefully diffident. “But after all, what can he do in the foyer, except go into the bunker?”

* * *

Ruiz got to his feet, wincing. Apparently no enemies would attack him from the tunnel. He looked along the featureless corridor and saw that it ended in a broad foyer. At the far side of the foyer Ruiz saw a series of side-by-side closed doors. A strip sign over the doors flashed: launch control bunker. He approached gingerly. Anything might be lurking in the ends of the foyer to either side, out of sight.

When he reached the foyer, he cautiously extended the lash past the edge, wiggling it enticingly. When nothing pounced, he followed. To one side the foyer ended in blank meltstone. But on the other side, a steep ramp rose to a surface door. Ruiz moved silently past the closed foyer doors and up the ramp, but when he got to the surface door, his heart sank. The thick metal door had been spot-welded to the frame. A warm draft of air slid in under the door, air filled with the green scent of freedom. He leaned against the door for a long moment, thinking pointless wishful thoughts.

Evidently he was being herded into the bunker. Ruiz wondered what sort of surprise he could contrive for whoever waited within. He returned to the linked doors of the bunker, this time giving each a careful examination. When they were all open, the foyer wall would become a broad portico. Each was operated by a separate touchbar. To the left of the first door, a control cluster opened and closed all the doors simultaneously.

Ruiz examined the cluster carefully. He fished out one of the daggers, now warm enough to touch without loss of skin. With great care, he inserted the tip of the dagger into the almost invisible top seam of the cluster. He chipped delicately at the seam, until the cover separated. He managed to catch the cover before it hit the floor.