William Shatner Tek War 2 Tek Lords

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"That would include Dr. Mildred Rhodie and Colonel Keazby."
"And probably Winterguild, since he was starting to follow up rumors about
this, apparently."
"But why try to kill your"
"They may have done that for some entirely different reason."
"Or they might have figured, when you started looking for Win informants, that
you were on the same trail."
William Shetner
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"What we have is the Teklords turning loose a manmade virus on
San Vrancisco. They wanted to make sure anyone who could stop the spread of
the plague was out of the way," said Jake. "Why are they doing it?"
"Terrorism doesn't need a motive, does it?"
"It does, sure. It may turn out to be a crazy reason, but there's always a
motive." Jake stood, began pacing the large oval living room of their suite.
"The Teklords want something. They figure if they kill enough people and then
promise to stop that they'll get what they want."
"But what do they want? It can't be my father's anti-Tek system,
because they must know that's a long way from being ready to go."
"I wouldn't tale that out, but my notion is that, yeah, they have a more
immediate objective."
"Then why haven't they made it known?" "They're not ready. Not enough people
have died." "What's the next step for us?"
I'll contact Bascom, since I'm sure this is linked with the Win
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terguild case, and tell him I'm going to stay here a day or so," Jake said.
"Then I'm going to look up some of my contacts and informants in
Frisco."
"San Francisco is going to be a very dangerous city from now on."
Jake grinned. "Greater Los Angeles hasn't been all that safe for me lately
either," he said.
':16:'
ake was, he realized, alone in bed. According to the floating hall-clock up
near the ceiling, it was a few minutes past seven in the morning. Yawning
once, scratching at his ribs, he sat up.
"Beth?" he called as he swung off the hovering air float bed.
"In here."
He followed her voice into the living room of their hotel suite.
"Something?" he asked.
She was, fully dressed now, sitting in the vidphone alcove. "I
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thought of someone who might have some pertinent information, and it turns out
he does." Smiling, she left the phone. "Friend of mine who teaches at UC here
in Berkeley, in the Neobio Depart-menU'
"A guy?"
"Yes, and handsome, too. But that isn't why I left your side at such an early
hour to contact him." She came over, put her arms around him and rested her
head against his bare chest. "He used to know Gordon
Chesterton down in GLA, and he suggested we look up a neo biologist named
Jordon Belarski."
"Jordon and Gordon," muttered Jake. "Where do we find him?"
"Well, that's the problem. Belarski was teaching at UC until two years ago,
when he had some kind of breakdown. My called it a crisis of conscience, but
he likes to use phrases like that." Beth moved back from Jake. "Belarski, when
last heard from, was living a nomadic street life over in Frisco."
I'll see if I can run the guy down. Would his crisis have anything to do with
the biological weapons Chesterton was developing?"
"My friend says Belarski worked closely with Chesterton, although I
don't recall ever having heard of the man before," she said. "I'm going up to
UC later to have lunch with him and see what else I can
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find out. If that's okay with you?"
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"Sure, I don't want you coming along to Frisco because--" "I know, the city
isn't safe for someone as fragile as I am." "Exactly," he said, grinning.
At a vidphone booth in a transit station deep under the bay Jake, alone now,
put through a call to the Marina Hospital. He reached the same smiling blond
android doctor he'd spoken to the night before. "How's my former wife doing?"
he asked after identifying himself.
"There has been no change in her condition, Mr. Cardigan." "What about my
son?"
"He's still in Observation and no symptoms of infection have developed.
We would, however, suggest that he remain here for at least another two days."
Jake let out his breath. "Yeah, that's fine," he said. "Can I talk to him?"
"Hold on, please. I'll transfer you."
The screen went blank.
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There were few people in the grey and black underground station. Not more than
ten or so waiting for the next tubetrain to San Francisco.
The screen remained blank.
A fat man in the next booth was arguing loudly. "I tell you, Frances, I don't
think it's safe for me to hop over there to Frisco. The stories I've been [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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