threat,” said the Iceman. “If a man of such obvious power is worried about the Prophet, how the hell can the Democracy not know a thing about him?"
"Beats the hell out of me, Carlos,” admitted Gibbs. “But if anything turns up on him, I'll make it available to you under the same conditions: I won't release any material that might embarrass the service.” He paused. “That's the best I can do."
"All right,” agreed the Iceman.
Gibbs left the room, walked down a long corridor, entered his study, activated his computer, and put through his request for the Anointed One's file, while the Iceman got out of his chair and walked around the room, admiring the pieces of alien and human art that Gibbs had acquired—or, more likely, had purchased from his decorator.
A few moments later the old man reentered the room. “It should be just a couple of minutes,” he announced.
"What I mainly want,” said the Iceman, “are a list of the places I'm most likely to find him or his chief underlings, a couple of holographs, some material concerning his past, and a list of the hit men he's used in the past."
"I think he hires free-lancers whenever he can,” answered Gibbs. “And I'll tell you right now: there aren't any photos or holos of him. He's always had his associates represent him in court."
"Then how do you know he's a male?” demanded the Iceman.
"Why do you think he's not?"
"Because no one seemed to have heard of him six years ago."
Gibbs paused, trying to follow the Iceman's train of thought, and finally smiled. “You think he's Penelope Bailey?"
"It's possible,” said the Iceman, taking his seat again.
"You're wrong, Carlos. His name is Moses Mohammed Christ, which I think you will agree is a most unfeminine name. Also, we've taken a number of his followers into custody, and they've testified that the Anointed One is a male in his forties.” He paused. “Besides, Penelope Bailey is dead."
The Iceman leaned forward intently. “Say that again."
"She's dead, Carlos."
"Not a chance,” said the Iceman with absolute certainty.
"She was confined in a cell on Alpha Crepello III."
"Last time I saw her, yes,” said the Iceman. “The locals called it Hades."
"Well, Hades no longer exists."
"What are you talking about?"
"It was struck by a huge meteor about eighteen Standard months ago,” answered Gibbs. “There's nothing left of it except some dust and a bunch of asteroids in orbit around Alpha Crepello."
"You're sure?"
"Fly out there yourself if you don't believe me.” Gibbs got to his feet. “The file should be here by now. If you'll excuse me..."
The Iceman sat, silent and motionless, for the entire time that Gibbs was censoring the Anointed One's file. Finally the older man re-entered the room and handed the Iceman a hard copy in a folder.
"I hope this file proves useful to you,” said Gibbs. “I'm no longer empowered to make such assignments, but the Democracy would be very grateful if you found a way to terminate the Anointed One."
"The Democracy has got a bigger problem than some half-baked religious fanatic with delusions of empire,” said the Iceman grimly. He stood up and walked to the door.
"What are you talking about?” asked Gibbs.
The Iceman reached the doorway and turned. “None of you ever understood what you were dealing with.” He paused. “You still don't."
"Perhaps you'd care to enlighten me,” said Gibbs, his voice reflecting his annoyance.
"Why bother? You won't believe me."
"Try me."
The Iceman stared at him. “Penelope Bailey is alive."
"You're mistaken,” scoffed Gibbs.
"The hell I am,” said the Iceman.
"I told you: Alpha Crepello III was destroyed by a meteor."
"I don't doubt it."
"Every living being on the planet was killed—including her."
The Iceman looked at Gibbs for a long moment and sighed deeply.
"You're a fool,” he said, and walked out to his waiting vehicle.
[Back to Table of Contents]
10.
The Kid was waiting in front of the
"Beats the hell out of me, Carlos,” admitted Gibbs. “But if anything turns up on him, I'll make it available to you under the same conditions: I won't release any material that might embarrass the service.” He paused. “That's the best I can do."
"All right,” agreed the Iceman.
Gibbs left the room, walked down a long corridor, entered his study, activated his computer, and put through his request for the Anointed One's file, while the Iceman got out of his chair and walked around the room, admiring the pieces of alien and human art that Gibbs had acquired—or, more likely, had purchased from his decorator.
A few moments later the old man reentered the room. “It should be just a couple of minutes,” he announced.
"What I mainly want,” said the Iceman, “are a list of the places I'm most likely to find him or his chief underlings, a couple of holographs, some material concerning his past, and a list of the hit men he's used in the past."
"I think he hires free-lancers whenever he can,” answered Gibbs. “And I'll tell you right now: there aren't any photos or holos of him. He's always had his associates represent him in court."
"Then how do you know he's a male?” demanded the Iceman.
"Why do you think he's not?"
"Because no one seemed to have heard of him six years ago."
Gibbs paused, trying to follow the Iceman's train of thought, and finally smiled. “You think he's Penelope Bailey?"
"It's possible,” said the Iceman, taking his seat again.
"You're wrong, Carlos. His name is Moses Mohammed Christ, which I think you will agree is a most unfeminine name. Also, we've taken a number of his followers into custody, and they've testified that the Anointed One is a male in his forties.” He paused. “Besides, Penelope Bailey is dead."
The Iceman leaned forward intently. “Say that again."
"She's dead, Carlos."
"Not a chance,” said the Iceman with absolute certainty.
"She was confined in a cell on Alpha Crepello III."
"Last time I saw her, yes,” said the Iceman. “The locals called it Hades."
"Well, Hades no longer exists."
"What are you talking about?"
"It was struck by a huge meteor about eighteen Standard months ago,” answered Gibbs. “There's nothing left of it except some dust and a bunch of asteroids in orbit around Alpha Crepello."
"You're sure?"
"Fly out there yourself if you don't believe me.” Gibbs got to his feet. “The file should be here by now. If you'll excuse me..."
The Iceman sat, silent and motionless, for the entire time that Gibbs was censoring the Anointed One's file. Finally the older man re-entered the room and handed the Iceman a hard copy in a folder.
"I hope this file proves useful to you,” said Gibbs. “I'm no longer empowered to make such assignments, but the Democracy would be very grateful if you found a way to terminate the Anointed One."
"The Democracy has got a bigger problem than some half-baked religious fanatic with delusions of empire,” said the Iceman grimly. He stood up and walked to the door.
"What are you talking about?” asked Gibbs.
The Iceman reached the doorway and turned. “None of you ever understood what you were dealing with.” He paused. “You still don't."
"Perhaps you'd care to enlighten me,” said Gibbs, his voice reflecting his annoyance.
"Why bother? You won't believe me."
"Try me."
The Iceman stared at him. “Penelope Bailey is alive."
"You're mistaken,” scoffed Gibbs.
"The hell I am,” said the Iceman.
"I told you: Alpha Crepello III was destroyed by a meteor."
"I don't doubt it."
"Every living being on the planet was killed—including her."
The Iceman looked at Gibbs for a long moment and sighed deeply.
"You're a fool,” he said, and walked out to his waiting vehicle.
[Back to Table of Contents]
10.
The Kid was waiting in front of the
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