[Wildcards 10] - Double Solitaire by George R. R. Martin Read Free Book Online

would be a night of forgetfulness.
    The snick of the lock brought her bolt upright, bile clawing at the back of her throat. Moonlight glinted off the soldier's belt buckle. This was it then. They had come. Blaise. Rape...
    A shadowy form darted past the guard, carrying something. Tach screamed, shrill and desperate. Light exploded in her eyes, leaving floating red dots imprinted on the retina.
    "Shit, Tachy, shut up! They'll have my nuts!" A harsh whisper. A familiar voice. Digger Downs. Sleazy reporter for a sleazy rag called Aces .
    Tach raked back her hair with a trembling hand. Climbed up off the floor. Air trickled back into lungs, and Tach tried to stop shaking. Digger snapped another picture.
    "God, this is great. Could you turn sideways?
    Humiliation gnawed at Tach's guts like a frenzied animal, and she wanted to kill something. "So who's the father? Inquiring minds want to know." Digger grinned at her, the smile deepening as he saw her hands closing into fists. "Can't make me pour brandy over my head now, can you, Tachy? So, how's it feel?"
    It surprised her, how fast she moved despite her ungainly bulk. The back of the metal chair slid easily into her hands.
    " Goddamn you!" Three quick steps, heft, swing. "You son of a bitch!" Bring the chair down firmly on the top of the head.
    "Owwww!" Digger's camera went flying. Tach had to give the reporter points for doggedness. He went scrabbling on hands and knees across the floor for the fallen camera. Tach whacked him again, hard, across the back this time. "Shit!"
    "You could have helped me. Instead you shame and humiliate me!" The word spiraled into a shriek as Tach flung the chair at him.
    Digger recovered the camera, scrambled to his feet, and went barreling for the door with Tach running awkwardly after him. The guard was in a panic at the noise and uproar. The wad of bills peeping coyly from his shirt pocket wasn't enough to get busted for. He stiff-armed Tachyon, his palm taking her hard in the chest. The blow knocked her to the floor. She was on her back, legs open, belly thrust aggressively for the ceiling. Digger took a final picture.
    "Even better than a profile," he said.
    The door slammed shut.
     
    "I am an American citizen. You cannot hold me without cause. I demand that I be released." Tach was discovering that stiff speeches delivered in soprano voices don't have much impact.
    The office was a thrown-together affair. Metal desk, a very nice leather executive's chair, filing cabinets of three different colors. Headquarters of an army on the move, thought Tachyon.
    Von Herzenhagen didn't respond. He just stubbed out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray on his desk and swiveled his chair to face a filing cabinet. He began rooting through the files while Zappa said, "You're a necessary resource during this crisis."
    "What resource? I have no powers to assist you. I have told you all that I know about the situation on the Rox. You have to let me go." Silence. "There are laws in this country, and you are breaking them."
    Von Herzenhagen emitted a sound of satisfaction and swiveled back to face Tachyon and Zappa. He was holding a piece of computer printout. With a snap of the wrist he unfolded it. It was a very long piece of paper. Offered it to Tachyon.
    The heading read, KELLY ANN JENKINS. Under it was an impressive array of charges. Accessory to armed robbery. Accessory to kidnapping. Accessory to assault and battery. Accessory to murder. It was quite a rap sheet.
    Tach tossed it back onto the desk with a disdainful flick of the fingers. "So? What has this to do with me?"
    "You are Kelly Ann Jenkins," von Herzenhagen said.
    "Fascinating. And I thought I was here because I am Dr. Tachyon."
    "Fingerprints say you're Kelly Ann Jenkins." Von Herzenhagen smiled from the teeth out. "I don't think you're in any position to make demands, Doctor. Now be a good boy, and maybe we won't put you in the county jail. Inmates are very hostile toward jumpers. You won't