The Albino Knife by Steve Perry Read Free Book Online Page B

ordre was sometimes passed along, but only one person had any given tag. There was only one "Pen," one "Moon," and so on. Once they died, the names could go back into the communal pot to be reassigned. The original Pen had been one of the founders of the order, as had Diamond. For the siblings to give someone either of these designations was considered a vote of confidence.
    "Yes," Pen said. "He's got great potential."
    After a few more minutes, a half-shrouded student arrived. The system of clothing used by the siblings was such that past a basic starting point, each student had to earn his or her way to a complete outfit, much like a martial artist had to earn rank pins.
    Diamond carried a small case, which he opened, after being introduced to Khadaji and Veate. He was a young man, Khadaji saw, and he had to pull his attention away from Veate, much as a man might shake himself out of a drug trance. Khadaji grinned slightly. Oddly enough, he had not felt anything hormonal when he and Veate had met. The pull of an Albino Exotic was usually very powerful.Maybe because she was his daughter?
    Diamond said, "The bomb got past our security because when it came in, it wasn't a bomb."
    Khadaji glanced at Pen, who remained silent. Listen to the boy tell it, Emile, the older man seemed to say.
    "When we received the materials for the planned construction, they were, of course, scanned at the port.
    A second scan took place when we brought them into the compound."
    Diamond removed a projector and a controller from the case. He clicked an inducer and the air over the desk lit with a three-dimensional representation of the exhibit that had blown up inside the compound's museum.
    Khadaji sucked in a quick breath. It was the office of Marcus Jefferson Wall. The late and unlamented Factor Wall, who had in fact been the real power behind the Confed's puppet president during the final days before the end. Khadaji had never been inside, but he knew the place. He had sent the young-old woman who had killed the Factor with a poison spew to which there had been no antidote.
    Diamond clicked the control and got a macro image of one of the exhibit's three chairs, a custom orthopedia. He pushed the viewpoint in closer.
    "These are computer records of before the explosion, of course," Diamond said. "The plastic of this one was the culprit.An oxidation explosive. The color is a giveaway, see there?"
    Khadaji nodded.Very clever.
    Veate said, "Oxidation explosive?"
    Diamond turned to her, obviously happy to have a chance to explain something—anything—to this beautiful woman. "Yes. You see, the plastic as it is created is inert. It won't show up on a sniffer or scanner because it is harmless. But a number of substances oxidize, that is to say, they combine with oxygen in the air in a chemical process, like rust on unprotected iron or steel.Actually a process similar to fire, but much slower."
    Veate was not a chemist but neither was she inept. She could feel him struggling to control the attraction he felt for her, and as she had done so many times before, she altered her position slightly, roughened her voice a hair, and deliberately became more provocative.Testing his control against her attraction. As it had always done before, she felt it start to overcome another's resolve. He was partially covered, but Veate could feel his sexual heat rising. But her voice was cool again, the attraction toned down when she spoke.
    "And you are saying that the oxygen in combination with whatever was in the chair became an active explosive."
    "Exactly.With proper mixing of the basic elements anda knowledge of how fast such a chemical process usually takes, one could time the explosion fairly accurately, plus or minus an hour or two. When enough oxygen had combined with the chair, it simply went off."
    "That's a rather iffy way to assassinate somebody," Khadaji put in.
    "Indeed," Pen said. "We have concluded that there was intent to cause mayhem, but no particular