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titled "Perdido."
The overhead voxbox broke in to inform him, "Cardigan on Holostage 1,
chief." The agency boss's eyes snapped open and he ceased tootling.
"Great, put him on." He crossed to his desk, tossed the sax down atop
the sprawl of clutter.
Jake, straddling a straight chair, materialized on the platform.
"Still in the office, huh?"
"Been trying to get hold of you. I have... You're looking
exceptionally glum, Jake. Something wrong?"
"No, must be the transmission," Jake assured him. "Before I report
what I know, tell me why you've been trying to reach me."
Bascom dragged a wing chair over closer to the holostage. "I was
contacted by Kay Norwood, your pal Alicia's lawyer chum--and, I might
add, a handsome lady indeed," he commenced. "Before I assisted her in
scramming to a place of relative safety, she passed on some information
that pertains to the whole Surrogate 13 mess."
"That's why Eve was killed," Jake said, shaking his head. "Certain
bastards were afraid she knew what was going on. She didn't actually,
but it was simpler just to kill her and not take chances."
"No, she didn't even know much about the original plan," said Bascom.
"That involved substituting an android ringer for that buffoon
President Brookmeyer."
"Yeah, so he could sign himself up for a Tek cure and not be missed
while undergoing the treatment."
"Typical halfassed government duplicity and flimflam," observed the
agency chief.
"Unfortunately Junior Maxfield got wind of that original switch plan,
which was being staged out of the American Embassy in Nicaragua," said
Jake. "A diplomat-OCO agent name of Dominic Hersh was running that,
with the cooperation of several local thugs. Maxfield got the notion
he could finance his independent communications operation with dough
extorted from Hersh and other officials."
"Stupid yunk. That's what got him killed," said Bascom, scowling.
"He's no loss, but Eve..."
"There are vidtapes of the two of them together, Walt," said Jake, his
voice low. "He confided in her some of what he found out and what he
was planning. That's how the others found out." "There's no need for
my son to see any of that footage."
"He won't," said Jake. "Maxfield and Eve were killed to keep them from
talking about Surrogate 13. But, as I see it, that was because
somebody worked out a variation on the original plan. That second plan
is the dangerous one."
"That's what I figure, too," Bascom told him. "Whoever's behind it
isn't going to let the real Brookmeyer come back from his cure. They're
going to run the country from here on out with the sim."
"That could be very lucrative," said Jake. "The biggest Tek cartel
down here is tangled in this as well. They must figure an android
Brookmeyer will be more sympathetic to their point of view."
"Okay, there's a lady down there in Managua who can give you a lot more
details," said the chief. "I got her name from Kay
,.
Norwood. She was cozy with this Hersh schmuck and now she's lying low
for fear of--"
"Gabrielle Kastle?"
"The same. Have you talked to her already?"
"Nope, I haven't been able to track her down yet. Got people working
on it."
"I know where she's hiding out." Bascom gave him an address and a
password. "Get to her quick, find out what she knows and then help her
get the hell out of Nicaragua intact."
"How's Richard doing?"
"Growing up, which can be painful as hell. He trusted that woman
and..." Bascom didn't finish his sentence.
"Don't blush, Walt. I see the parallel between your son's faith in his
wife and mine in Kate," said Jake. "You can talk about stuff like that
to me now and I won't scream, yell or swoon."
"Sorry. What about Gomez--what's he up to?"
"He's tracking down an informant named Dreamer Garcia."
Bascom said, "Both of you lads take care of yourselves."
"You're sounding almost paternal."
"Ignore it," advised Bascom. "I'm not myself lately."
DOMINIC HERSH I-IAD been an exceptionally good boy and this picnic this
afternoon was his reward.
The day couldn't have been better, all sunshine and crystal blue
skies.
And the best part of it all was that his mother was going to attend the
picnic.
Sitting stiff and straight in the sky limo Hersh smiled in
anticipation. He was eight days beyond his tenth birthday. His mother
hadn't been at his party. That wasn't her fault, though. Hersh's
father had made her go to Europe someplace.
It wasn't really fair, but his mother had asked him, please, not to
make a fuss. It upset his father when he did that.
Shit, just about everything upset his father.
But the picnic was going to be great. The day was wonderful and he'd
be seeing his mother any minute now.
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