William Shatner Tek War 8 Tek Kill

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But, I swear to God, I'll send you that list of the other unfortunate ladies
whose lives were blighted by Dwight since we split up."
Jake studied the six comp screens again before heading for the way out.
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"I'd go with the blue," he advised. adjusted his big red nose and went, huge
yellow shoes flapping, hurrying into the seventeenth level of a Westwood
Sector building. Just across the threshold, he set down a sample case that had
BUFFOON ELECTRONIC TOYS, [NC. emblazoned on its bright green side.
"Pipe the getup on this dodo," commented a little goldenhaired doll that
rested on a low ivory pedestal.
"A rube from Hicksville if ever I saw one," added a large robot rag doll who
was slumped in a little plaz rocking chair.
A two-foot-high mechanical cowboy whipped off his Stetson. "Don't let
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them impolite bimbos a-rile ya, pardner," he drawled. "What kin I do ya fer?"
"Is the lady of the house in?" Gomez scratched at his frizzy wig.
The golden-haired blond doll suggested, "Why don't you take a
Zeke?"
"Yeah," seconded the rag doll, thumbing her nose in a floppy manner, "hit the
road, bozo."
"Little dears, for shame." A fat silver-haired woman in a flowered tent dress
had come jiggling out of the back office of the toy shop.
"Is this any way to treat a respected customer?"
"This do ink not a paying customer, Corky," said the rag doll disdainfully.
"He's just a schlep of a salesman."
Clearing his throat, Gomez said, "Chiquita, I have to communicate with you,
muypronto. For the usual fee, be it understood."
Blinking, Corky Keepnews took a jiggling step back. "Holy crow, is that you,
Gomez honey?"
"S, but cleverly disguised so as not to tip off the opposition." "Wow,
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it's not especially safe for you to be seen in the open." "Hence the mummery,
boaita." He went flat-footing after her into her office.
Bidding the door to shut, Corky seated herself in an ample armchair. "I
can't chat with you for more than five minutes, hon,"
she warned him.
From the one narrow vie window you could see part of University of
SoCal Campus 26, where either a riot or a rally was in in the Glade.
"Why, in this instance, do I find myself on list?" Gomez inquired.
"Any hints?"
"Corky narrowed her left eye and scrutinized the pale pink above her.
"Somebody powerful is annoyed with you."
Teklords. One Teklord actually."
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He sat on the edge of the armchair opposite her and motion with both
yellow-gloved hands. When Corky shook her head, her silver-blond hair
flickered and danced. "I've got no details, Gomez. Don't, if you want the
absolute truth, want any more than I got. But it's a very powerful gent."
"There are any number of Tek industrialists who fit that description.
Can you zero in some, Cork?"
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"West Coast, probably. As close as I can get, honey."
"Has it got to do with the Dwight Grossman kill?"
Giving the pink ceiling her attention again, the information dealer answered,
"So they say."
"How the devil was Grossman connected to the Tek trade, Corky?"
"That I have no idea about." She lowered her husky voice. "Way I hear it, this
poor sappo Grossman found out something he really wasn't supposed to know."
"And they want to eradicate me before I find out the same darn thing?"
"It's not certain, sweet, that they want you completely and totally dead," she
informed him. "Might be they just mean to incapacitate you for a good while."
Gomez stroked his clown nose. "What about the Bascom frame-up?"
"Same bunch is behind that."
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"I'm trying to find out who faked the security camera tapes," he told her.
"But my usual experts at providing that sort of information have been alerted
to booby-trap, sabotage, and otherwise futz me up. Who else besides the usual
gang can I get what I need from?"
Corky's voice dropped even lower. "You might try a guy who does business as
Einstein, Inc. Out in the Woodland Hills Sector of
Greater
LA."
"Never heard of the hombre." "Neither have the Teklords. Yet,"
Corky said. "You better talk him before they get wind."
Rising, Gomez said, "Gracias, dear lady. How much do I owe you?"
"On the house, honey," she told him.
"Por que?"
"A going-away present."
"I'm not going away."
"But you ought to," Corky advised as he took his leave.
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J. J. BRAC K V N bounced twice in his high-back black metal chair, jabbed a
finger in the direction of the empty chair facing him, and laughed. A lock of
his pale blond hair fell down across his smooth forehead. He brushed it back,
laughed again. "It appears, appears, cousins, that my Hotseat guest for
tonight, yes, tonight's vidnet broadcast of your favorite, and mine, that's
for sure, Facin' Bracken, is too yellow, yellow and chickenhearted, I'd say,
wouldn't you, to show up." He clapped his hands together several times. "Or
could it be, you think maybe, that the old girl came to what senses, senses,
she has left and decided, as I've long maintained about her and the nattering
nitwits who follow her, that it's time to throw in the towel, right, the
towel."
A faint shimmering commenced in the vicinity of the other chair.
Bouncing again, Bracken made a chuckling sound and brushed back the lock of
unruly hair again. "Hush, cousins, somebody's
Gradually, with some electrical sputtering and a few flashes of light, the
holographic image of a lean, gray-haired of seventy-five appeared in the guest
chair.
hunched, watching the newly materialized projection. When Corky shook her
head, her silver-blond hair flickered and danced. "I've got no details, Gomez.
Don't, if you want the absolute truth, want any more than I got. But it's a
very powerful gent."
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"There are any number of Tek industrialists who fit that description.
Can you zero in some, Cork?"
"West Coast, probably. As close as I can get, honey."
"Has it got to do with the Dwight Grossman kill?"
Giving the pink ceiling her attention again, the information dealer answered,
"So they say."
"How the devil was Grossman connected to the Tek trade, Corky?"
"That I have no idea about." She lowered her husky voice. "Way I hear it, this
poor sappo Grossman found out something he really wasn't supposed to know."
"And they want to eradicate me before I find out the same darn thing?"
"It's not certain, sweet, that they want you completely and totally dead," she
informed him. "Might be they just mean to incapacitate you for a good while."
Gomez stroked his clown nose. "What about the Bascom frame-up?"
"Same bunch is behind that."
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"I'm trying to find out who faked the security camera tapes," he told her. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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