Asimov's Science Fiction: April/May 2013 by Penny Publications Read Free Book Online Page B

began, but didn't get to finish as she shot off through the door concerned. Obviously the most secure doorway was the one into the building I most wanted to enter because, if my data was correct, Gad Straben himself had entered here just a few hours ago. I now entered to be greeted by the sound of gunfire and the commingled screams of pain and terror that were the usual result of Harriet's presence. It occurred to me that she might have been uncomfortable about my questioning and that was why she had gone ahead, but why this occurred to me I don't know.
    Through pin cams on their clothing I observed the thetics in the other buildings moving from room to room and killing anyone who resisted, just so long as they weren't Straben. It was brutal, but then Straben's organization was brutal, and anyone working for it had to know they were culpable in mass murder. Those on the roof were now in too and working their way down—just as efficient and methodical as those working up from below—but also just as indifferent to personal survival. I reckoned on walking away from here with maybe just twenty or so surviving thetics. The rest would crawl off and die completely to become food for the honey fungus, or else turn into something nasty in the drains.
    Directing my course by pin-cam feeds, I climbed the stairs since the building's drop-shafts were keyed to staff ID tags and wouldn't work for anyone else. Most of the action was now taking place on the third floor. At the second floor, some man in businesswear carrying a heavy flack gun charged down, skidded to a stop on a landing, and took aim. I raised my other gun just as a flack round exploded against the wall behind me and peppered me with shrapnel, then changed my mind, and raised my QC laser, a short while afterward stepping over the burning corpse.
    By the time I reached the third floor it was all over. The main data room looked like an abattoir and over in one corner Harriet was tearing chunks off of some rather corpulent individual and gobbling them down. Many of the consoles were smashed and smoking, holo-displays flickering through the air like panicked specters, and flimsy screens seemed to burn with internal blue fires. Over to one side a chainglass window overlooked all this, plush office space inside, and there, working a console in frenetic panic, sat Gad Straben. I ran over to the door—armored of course—kicked it hard, then swore as my other boot went straight down through the floor and the door remained in place.
    "Get me a charge!" I shouted, heaving my leg back out of the hole.
    There were only two surviving thetics in the room, and they were guarding two women and a man who lay face down with their hands behind their heads.
    "You three," I said, brushing debris from my trousers as I walked over. When they looked up I continued, "Get up and go," and stabbed a finger toward the door. They slowly stood up, eyeing me as I replaced my weapons in their holes in my legs and closed them up, then took off just as fast as they could. They were probably only temporary employees of Straben since they hadn't resisted, so whether they lived or died was a matter of indifference to me. I turned to the two thetics.
    "I want an explosive charge to get through that door," I said concisely, since neither of them had understood me the first time.
    One of them went over to one of its fellows, who was quietly deliquescing in a corner, pulled some sticky bombs from his belt and returned with them. I stared at the bombs for a moment then went over to the dead thetic myself and checked the belt. There—just what I needed. I detached a circular object like a coaster and took it over to the office window, slapped it against the chainglass and hit the pressure button at its center. With a whumph the chainglass turned to white powder and collapsed to the floor. I stepped over the ledge and into the office, seeing Straben simply stand and hold out empty hands.
    "You move quickly," he