Salind had seen that pose before from other people who served the same purpose on other worlds - immediate testicle protection.
‘Well, well, Mr Salind, what do you have to say for yourself?’
Salind was momentarily distracted from replying, for another car had pulled up. The third plain-clothes cop who stepped out seemed familiar. Someone in the Tronad probably - someone about whom Salind had read a file. Was this one of Soper’s associates? He looked the part - a shaven-headed thug with slightly more muscle than necessary.
‘Sorry . . . what?’
Callus went on, ‘I suppose it was professional jealousy that made you do it.’
‘Oh shit,’ said Geoff.
Callus glanced at him. ‘I imagine your accomplice will be able to tell us.’
‘You have got to be kidding,’ said Salind.
‘I’ll need your aug for evidence of course.’
Now the two thugs moved up on either side of Salind.
‘My aug is internal and backs up to the Tarjen AI every four minutes. It doesn’t retain a recording itself, but that backed-up information will prove I was nothing to do with this.’
Shit, get me some help out here. This fucker is going to kill me.
Message received: the legal department is onto it right now.
I don’t need the legal department! I need Polity monitors!
Polity monitors do not have jurisdiction here.
Callus smiled. ‘Here on Banjer we are aware how it is possible to interfere with computer-stored information.’
‘Argus is encryption-sealed! Nothing less than a major AI could interfere with it! And it’s internal - you haven’t got the facilities here to remove it!’
Callus gave the nod to his two thugs. ‘Mr Gem Salind, in the name of the Banjer Council I arrest you for the murder of Merril Torson, and with the powers vested in me by said Council, seize all evidential material. Please do not resist arrest.’
A fist like the bony end of a ham crashed into the side of Salind’s head. He slid along the car and the second thug hook-punched him twice in the gut.
‘I said “Please do not resist arrest” Mr Salind.’
Hazily he realized just what they intended. He would either die whilst resisting arrest or when they attempted to remove Argus. Case closed.
For a little fat guy Geoff could move very fast. He had jumped up on the bonnet of the car and slammed his recorder down on the second attacker’s head before Salind thought to react.
Salind punched the one on his right then fervently wished he’d used his boot. That hamfist came down again and the next thing he knew he was lying dazedly on the floor watching Geoff, his face covered with blood, being held by the scruff of the neck and having his head repeatedly pounded against the car’s wing.
‘That’s enough!’ someone bellowed.
Salind tried to stand as his attacker loomed over him. He saw the shaven-headed one moving up behind. Shavehead took hold of the thug by the shoulder and just threw him. The man hit the car then the ground, bounced and lay still. The second thug released Geoff in time to walk into a backhander that lifted him clean over the car. Salind staggered groggily to his feet. He glanced back and saw the two uniformed officers standing dumbfounded. Callus was on his knees holding his wrist. He looked up as Shavehead came up beside Salind, and real fear twisted his features. Scrabbling inside his coat he produced a nasty-looking pulse-gun.
‘You gonna do it to me, Mikey?’ asked Shavehead.
Callus did. The pulse-gun flashed. There came a thud and burst of smoke from Shavehead’s chest.
‘I just love this body.’ Shavehead strode forward and drove his fist down into Callus’s face.
Salind felt that familiar churning in his stomach: one hell of a story and now he knew the punchline, so to speak. One of the uniformed officers drew his own weapon - a similar pulse-gun to Callus’s.
‘Drake, put that away will you,’ said Shavehead.
The cop looked at his weapon in bewilderment, then he
‘Well, well, Mr Salind, what do you have to say for yourself?’
Salind was momentarily distracted from replying, for another car had pulled up. The third plain-clothes cop who stepped out seemed familiar. Someone in the Tronad probably - someone about whom Salind had read a file. Was this one of Soper’s associates? He looked the part - a shaven-headed thug with slightly more muscle than necessary.
‘Sorry . . . what?’
Callus went on, ‘I suppose it was professional jealousy that made you do it.’
‘Oh shit,’ said Geoff.
Callus glanced at him. ‘I imagine your accomplice will be able to tell us.’
‘You have got to be kidding,’ said Salind.
‘I’ll need your aug for evidence of course.’
Now the two thugs moved up on either side of Salind.
‘My aug is internal and backs up to the Tarjen AI every four minutes. It doesn’t retain a recording itself, but that backed-up information will prove I was nothing to do with this.’
Shit, get me some help out here. This fucker is going to kill me.
Message received: the legal department is onto it right now.
I don’t need the legal department! I need Polity monitors!
Polity monitors do not have jurisdiction here.
Callus smiled. ‘Here on Banjer we are aware how it is possible to interfere with computer-stored information.’
‘Argus is encryption-sealed! Nothing less than a major AI could interfere with it! And it’s internal - you haven’t got the facilities here to remove it!’
Callus gave the nod to his two thugs. ‘Mr Gem Salind, in the name of the Banjer Council I arrest you for the murder of Merril Torson, and with the powers vested in me by said Council, seize all evidential material. Please do not resist arrest.’
A fist like the bony end of a ham crashed into the side of Salind’s head. He slid along the car and the second thug hook-punched him twice in the gut.
‘I said “Please do not resist arrest” Mr Salind.’
Hazily he realized just what they intended. He would either die whilst resisting arrest or when they attempted to remove Argus. Case closed.
For a little fat guy Geoff could move very fast. He had jumped up on the bonnet of the car and slammed his recorder down on the second attacker’s head before Salind thought to react.
Salind punched the one on his right then fervently wished he’d used his boot. That hamfist came down again and the next thing he knew he was lying dazedly on the floor watching Geoff, his face covered with blood, being held by the scruff of the neck and having his head repeatedly pounded against the car’s wing.
‘That’s enough!’ someone bellowed.
Salind tried to stand as his attacker loomed over him. He saw the shaven-headed one moving up behind. Shavehead took hold of the thug by the shoulder and just threw him. The man hit the car then the ground, bounced and lay still. The second thug released Geoff in time to walk into a backhander that lifted him clean over the car. Salind staggered groggily to his feet. He glanced back and saw the two uniformed officers standing dumbfounded. Callus was on his knees holding his wrist. He looked up as Shavehead came up beside Salind, and real fear twisted his features. Scrabbling inside his coat he produced a nasty-looking pulse-gun.
‘You gonna do it to me, Mikey?’ asked Shavehead.
Callus did. The pulse-gun flashed. There came a thud and burst of smoke from Shavehead’s chest.
‘I just love this body.’ Shavehead strode forward and drove his fist down into Callus’s face.
Salind felt that familiar churning in his stomach: one hell of a story and now he knew the punchline, so to speak. One of the uniformed officers drew his own weapon - a similar pulse-gun to Callus’s.
‘Drake, put that away will you,’ said Shavehead.
The cop looked at his weapon in bewilderment, then he
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