To Ride Pegasus
- Автор: Маккефри Энн
- Серия: Talents #1
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «To Ride Pegasus». Краткое содержание книги:
“It’s just that…that…hell, you’re not a star-gazer anymore, Mister
Darrow. You’re for real.” The apprehension in Frank Hummel’s face was equally real.
“Frank, thank you. This isn’t easy for you and I will make it less easy but I want you to remember fourteen years of a very pleasant relationship. I knew you’d be here today. I knew it four months ago when Molly and I had that series of graffiti painted on the door and the so-called burglary attempts. I’ve a lease on new quarters. We’re moving tomorrow.”
Frank already had too much to think about “You mean, you knew? Already? But I just got the orders yesterday and you told me that you didn’t see individual…and you’re-“
“I’m not lying about what I can see, Frank, but I’d certainly better see what affects myself, or a fine star-gazer I’d be. Right?”
Hummel was slowly backing out of the apartment, less and less convinced. Once again Henry wished he were a telepath-or at least empathic-and could know what was running through Frank’s mind and counter it.
“Do me one favor, Frank,” Henry said. “On the 18th of next month, in the fourth race at Belmont, bet every credit you’ve been saving on a horse named Mibimi.
Only don’t place your bet until the last minute before the race. Will you do that for me? And then when Mibimi wins, remember Talent is useful.”
Frank had retreated to the elevator and Henry wondered if the confused man had taken in his tip. He didn’t often give them but for a friend you can do a favor…if it’ll cement his friendship.
Henry shrugged as he closed the door. The scene just played in his living room had been repeated over and over, with acknowledged Talents as reluctant dramatis personae.
Just another of those paradoxes which assailed them from all sides now that
Talent was respectable. By removing the onus of haphazard performance, by having
Talents registered with the Center, they could contract for premium wages. But suddenly the Talents were also elevated into the genus “pariah,” found themselves untouchables, unwelcome and feared, all through misunderstanding.
Watson Claire was mounting a massive soft-sell public information program, abetted by his contacts in the media profession who were delighted at something newsworthy. Judiciously applied blackmail kept the worst newsmongers at bay. But it would take time, Claire said (and Henry understood), for the program to seep down to the level where it was most required…in the housing developments which were now ousting anyone suspected of possessing Talent.
Well, the immense warehouse Henry had leased in the dock area would suffice until he’d figured out how to appeal to George Henner. That financial wizard had an accounting to make and Henry was vastly amused by recent findings. It was going to be fun watching Henner’s reactions.
He picked up the comunit to call the warehouse: the shielding had been in place a week ago so there had been just the finishing of the living quarters. Maybe he should have used telekinetics to move his furnishings? No, that would be a bad scene, however personally satisfying it might be. Some things even Talents had better do the usual way.
“My name is Henry Darrow, Commissioner Mailer. This is my wife, Molly; Barbara
Holland is our finder, and Jerry comes along to lug the Goosegg. I believe this is your list of most wanteds?”
“Just what is this?” The Commissioner for Law Enforcement and Order had risen in indignation from his paper-free desk. “My appointment was with James Marshall, not you, Darrow.”
“I know. Jim got it for us because you’ve refused to see…”
“A bunch of tearoom crackpots!”
“Well, we’re here and you’re going to listen…”
“Not if I have any say…” The Commissioner was fumbling with his desk set and swore when the telltale lights did not wink on at his touch.
“It won’t work, Commissioner Mailer,” Henry told him. “I forgot to mention that Jerry’s telekinetic and keeps closing the switches as soon as you press. Sorry. You’re incommunicado until you listen. And watch. Barbara, if you would, please?
Here’s the list. Just sit here. Ready, Molly?”
The Commissioner’s raging did him no good since his office was soundproofed. He continued to fumble futilely with his comunit, unable to believe that it wouldn’t function because some nondescript young man stared at it. He didn’t notice that Molly was quietly placing the electrode net on Barbara’s head. The girl adjusted it into the scalped spots in her hair and nodded to Henry.
“I gather these are in order of preference?” Henry asked the Commissioner. Henry perched on the desk, unperturbed by the Commissioner’s belligerence and profanity.
“Preference? What’n hell are you talking about, Darrow? Get your circus out of here. This is a law enforcement and order…”
“Neither of which you are able to maintain with the current restrictions on your men,” said Henry, interrupting with such a forceful tone that the Commissioner’s sputtering died and he stared at Darrow in amazement. Few people had addressed the LEO man in that tone of voice. “That’s why I’m here, to render assistance you can’t get from any other agency. Now sit down, shut up, and listen. Who do you want us to find for you first?”
“Find?”
“Find!”
The two men locked eyes and there was a quality in Henry’s that wrought a sudden change in the Commissioner.
“All right,” Mailer said in a tight hard voice, “find me the man they call Joe Blow.”
“The Joy Pill man?”
“That’s him.”
Henry flicked out the second IBM card and handed it to Barbara Holland.
“Enough for you, Babs?”
The girl studied the sketch drawn by police artists from verbal descriptions of victims of the elusive Joe Blow. She read the notations on his most frequented locations, his general modus operandi. Then she looked up at Henry with a grin.
“This isn’t a really fair test, Henry,” she said.
“Ha!” exclaimed the Commissioner, an unholy delight in his eyes.
“No,” said Barbara, “because I’ve encountered him so it’s easy to track him down.” She closed her eyes, clasping the card between her hands. The needles on the Goosegg began to whip across the graph paper. Her smile widened and she opened her eyes. “He’s on the corner of 4th Avenue New East and 197th Street.
He’s wearing a long blue duty mac, with waterproofed shoulders, and a long blond wig. No moustaches today. He’s carrying nothing illegal but he has a great deal of money on him and some folded papers.”
The Commissioner was fumbling with his comunit. “For God’s sake release it or whatever. I’ve got to get…”
“Why?” asked Barbara. “You want him with dust or acid or the Brown Joy, don’t you?”
“I want him in any way.”
“Can you charge him?”
“I’ve only got to get him…”
Suddenly the comunit came alive on every previously pressed band, but the Commissioner got it sorted out and had a squad vehicle dispatched to the coordinates, to apprehend a man answering Barbara’s description. Then he turned back, smiling sourly at the four people. “We’ll see what we’ll see. If such a man is there, we’ll have him in three minutes. My people are quick and efficient.”
“So are mine,” said Henry and looked expectantly at Barbara, who nodded.
“What’s that all about?” demanded the Commissioner.
“I’m keeping track of him,” Barbara replied, and suddenly the third band began to show activity.
“That is the Goosegg at work, Commissioner Mailer,” said Henry.
“Are you reading my mind?” Mailer looked alarmed and angrier.