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ASHLING

forty-five

After leaving the rear of the department store in the shopping mall, Josef and the other Pipeline agent, whom he introduced as Leon, drove Ashling on a zigzag route around Atlanta to be sure they were not being followed. When Josef was satisfied, they headed for the Hyatt, where Josef had already arranged a reservation. They brought Ashling in through a side door and took him straight up to 7319, which turned out to be a suite of two main rooms: a living room and a bedroom at the rear, each served by a separate bathroom. Two more Pipeline agents were there already when Ashling and his escorts arrived. With them was an Offworld scientist called Kay, a colleague of Ulkanov's, whom Ashling had talked to before from a public viewphone when the plans for his defection were being finalized.

"Good to see you again, Conrad," she said. "It won't be much longer now."

"Let's hope so," Ashling replied.

He sat down at the table, and Josef took the chair opposite. Kay perched on the side of an armchair nearby, while Leon and the other two men dispersed themselves around the suite.

"You'll be staying here tonight," Josef informed Ashling. "A courier will be arriving tomorrow, who will stay with you all the way through to the FER."

"What route will we be taking?" Ashling asked out of curiosity.

Josef showed his palms in a brief, apologetic gesture. "Just in case anything goes wrong . . . it would be better if you didn't know the details. That way there can be no risk of our methods being compromised."

Ashling nodded tightly. "Of course. I understand."

"But I can tell you that you will be launching from Semipalatinsk on December sixth," Josef said. "That gives us three weeks: time enough for you to take it slowly, and an ample allowance for contingency. We want to get you out of the Consolidation fast, before they have time to react. If there is time to spare, you can spend it relaxing after you get to the FER."

"Fine," Ashling agreed.

Josef looked at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I was a bit shaky earlier, but I think it's passing. Tired. I think I'll turn in early this evening."

"Kay has got some questions about Southside that she'd like to talk about while you're here," Josef said. "Are you up to it?"

"Oh, sure," Ashling said.

Kay reached for a folder of papers that she had with her and rose to pull a chair up to the table. "How about -doing it over a meal?" she suggested.

"Maybe later," Ashling said. "I had lunch fairly late. And with all the excitement since, I don't have any appetite. Maybe something to drink, though."

Leon ordered tea, coffee, and soft drinks from room service, and for the next couple of hours Kay and Ashling talked about his work at Pearse and as much as he had discovered of Nordens's true motives. When they had finished, Josef announced that he and Kay needed to take care of a couple of other things.

"We'll be back sometime tomorrow," Josef said. "Leon will stay here, with at least one of the others at all times, so you'll be all right. And you know how to get in touch with me if there's a problem?"

"Yes, I've got the number," Ashling confirmed.

"Anything else you need for now?"

"No, I don't think so."

"We'll see you tomorrow, then."

Josef and Kay left. Leon and his companions talked with Ashling for a while, and then settled down to watch a movie in the living room. Ashling stayed through most of it, even though it didn't really interest him. Then he stood up, excused himself, and announced that he was going to get some rest.

In the bedroom, he sat down on a chair and sat -thinking for a while about the journey that lay ahead of him over the next three weeks, culminating, if all went well, with his leaving Earth completely and going to Luna. It was a bit late in life for changes of environment as radical as that, he reflected. He hoped he was capable of surviving it. He patted his pockets to make sure he had his Panacyn pills with him, then remembered that he'd taken one on arriving and left them in the other bathroom. Not to worry. He didn't feel as if he needed one right now. Surprising.

Without warning, the door flew open and Leon hurled himself through. He started to turn, but before he could close the door a chair hit it from the other side with enough force to make him stagger back. An instant later, a figure hurtled through the doorway in a crouching posture, its body canted away and leading leg doubled back in readiness, and sent Leon crashing back over the bed with a sidekick. Before Leon could move or recover, the assailant leveled a pistol and shot him through his shirt.

"Oh, my God!" Ashling whispered, rising to his feet, horrified.

The man laughed. "Don't worry. We don't want killings. Too many complications. It'll keep them out until I get back here to tidy things up."

Ashling stared, confused, as he recognized him as from the project. "But you're one of the volunteers. Demiro, isn't it? . . . I thought you'd been transferred away. What's -going on? I don't understand."

Demiro turned with a wave and strode back through the living room. Ashling followed. Another of the Pipeline guards was unconscious on the floor. There was no sign of the third.

"Let's just say for now that there's more going on than you know about," Demiro said. "There isn't time now. Ask Nordens to tell you about it when we get back." Then Ashling felt a pain and clutched at his chest, falling against the side of the doorway.

"What is it?" Demiro demanded.

"Pill," Ashling croaked. "White jar . . . other bathroom."

Demiro sat him down, then went away and came back with the pills and a glass of water.

Ashling took one of the capsules and sat for a while, recovering. On the room's TV, a program was just beginning about tropical insects. Finally Demiro said, "Okay? Can you move now?" Ashling didn't respond, but continued panting, staring down at the floor.

"Come on," Demiro said, straightening up. "We have to get your briefcase. What else do you need?"

"Where are we going?"

"Back. Where do you think?"

They left the hotel through the side door that Josef had brought Ashling in through. Demiro had a car parked nearby. He handed Ashling the keys and, still keeping the pistol in his hand as a warning, gestured toward the driver's-side door. "Get in, and don't try anything clever. You're driving. . . . And things have changed since you last had anything to do with it. The name, to you, is Gordon. Maurice Gordon."

 

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Framed