The Eyes of Heisenberg by Frank Herbert Page B

Hospital’s new computer nurse got Max Allgood on the phone after only a short delay while Security traced him. Allgood’s eyes appeared sunken. His mouth was pulled into a thin line.
    â€œYes?” he said. “Oh, it’s you.”
    â€œSomething important’s come up,” she said. “Svengaard’s in the vat room examining the Durant embryo under microscope.”
    Allgood rolled his eyes. “Oh, for the love … Is that why you got me out of … is that why you called me?”
    â€œBut there was a noise and you said—”
    â€œForget it.”
    â€œI tell you there was a commotion of some kind in that room and now Doctor Svengaard’s gone. I didn’t see him go.”
    â€œHe probably left by another door.”
    â€œThere is no other door.”
    â€œLook, sweetie, I have half a hundred agents there covering that room like a blanket. A fly couldn’t move in that room without our scanners picking it up.”
    â€œThen check with them to see where Svengaard’s gone.”
    â€œOh, for—”
    â€œCheck!”

    â€œAll right!” Allgood turned to his hot line, got the duty agent. The computer nurse could hear him through her open line. “Where’s Svengaard?”
    A muffled voice responded, “Just went in and examined the Durant embryo under microscope, then left.”
    â€œWent out the door?”
    â€œJust walked out.”
    Allgood’s face came back onto the computer nurse’s screen. “You hear that?”
    â€œI heard, but I’ve been down at the end of the hall ever since he went in. He didn’t come out.”
    â€œYou probably turned your back for five seconds.”
    â€œWell …”
    â€œYou did, didn’t you?”
    â€œI may’ve looked away just for a second, but—”
    â€œSo you missed him.”
    â€œBut I heard a commotion in there!”
    â€œIf there was anything wrong, my men would’ve reported it. Now, forget this. Svengaard’s no problem. They said he’d probably do this and we could ignore it. They’re never wrong about such things.”
    â€œIf you’re sure.”
    â€œI’m sure.”
    â€œSay, why are we so interested in that embryo?”
    â€œYou don’t need to know, sweetie. Get back to work and let me get some sleep.”
    She broke the connection, still wondering about the noise she had heard. It had sounded like something being hit.
    Allgood sat staring at the blank screen after the nurse signed off. Noise? Commotion? He formed a circle with his mouth, exhaled slowly. Crazy damn’ female!
    Abruptly, he stood up, turned back to his bed. The doxie playmate he’d brought in for the night lay there in the rosy light of a gloom dispeller, half awake, looking at him. Her eyes under long lashes filled him with sudden rage.
    â€œGet the hell out of here!” he roared.
    She sat upright in the bed, wide awake, staring.
    â€œOut!” he said, pointing to the door.

    She tumbled out of bed, grabbed her clothing and ran out the door, a flash of pink flesh.
    Only when she’d gone did Allgood realize who she’d reminded him of—Calapine, a dull Calapine. He wondered at himself then. The Cyborg had said the adjustments they made, the instruments they’d implanted, would help him control his emotions, permit him to lie with impunity even to Optimen. This outburst now—it frightened him. He stared down at one of his slippers abandoned on the gray rug, its mate vanished somewhere. He kicked the slipper, began pacing back and forth.
    Something was wrong. He could feel it. He’d lived almost four hundred lovely years, most of them in Optiman service. He had a well-trained instinct for rightness and wrongness. It was survival.
    Something was wrong.
    Had the Cyborg lied to him? Was he being used for some trick of their own?
    He stumbled over the slipper, ignored it.
    Noise.