“This is diGriz speaking.” “Are you all right?” Angelina asked. “I’m just fine. How is Bolivar?” “He’s right here beside me. Eating. Now get out of there!” “I’m on mv wav.” I slammed the phone down and walked through the door without a backward glance. Following my instructions there was a chauffeured car waiting outside in Freedom Square, door open, motor running. As soon as I was seated it hurtled forward in the direction of the airport. My jetcopter was there, fueled and ready. I took off, circled and headed north to meet the heavily armed command copter with James at the controls. He waved to me as he swung his craft up beside mine and his voice echoed in my headphones.
“You did it. Dad! There’s nothing in the sky-and if anything does appear we can blast it.” “Good. Send the signal to Zapilote with the name and address of the doctor in Primeroso-then let’s head for home. It has been a long day. “ I had visited the doctor on the way to the Presidio that morning: it seemed at least a hundred years ago. A very large sum of money had obtained his exclusive services for the day. He had a hypodermic syringe filled and ready and just waited for someone to come and get him and bring him to the person to be injected. I knew that he would get a very warm (welcome indeed.
We were joined by the rest of our tiny aerial fleet halfway back to Castle de la Rosa. They had pulled out and left Puerto Azul as soon as Bolivar had returned. None of us wanted to be within range after Zapilote had received the injection and had recovered. We landed together. I killed the ignition and climbed stiffly down from the copter; my side was beginning to ache. Bolivar was standing there when I turned around. He had bruises on his face and I could see a bandage under his shirt. He noticed my attention and smiled.
“Not bad. Just a little kicking around when they caught me. You look a lot worse.” “I’ll feel a lot worse if I don’t get a little shot of painkiller soon. Take me to your medkit!” “I have some here. Morn told me about the plan, what you did.” His face was hidden as he gave me the injection. “I really do appreciate it. Dad-1 don’t really know how to say this...” “Then don’t. You’d do the same for me. Now lead me to a soft chair and a strong drink and I’ll tell you all about my visit to the lion’s den. Not the ribs!” I called as Angelina ran up to embrace me. “Let us just sit quiet for a bit before the doc straps them up. They’ve lasted this long. You know, it has really been one of those days!” The marqubz must have been told of my arrival as well because he was the next one to rush up arms outspread to embrace me. James stopped him before he managed to puncture one of my lungs with a broken bone. “Let us take this party inside,” I ordered.
“Champagne!” de Torres shouted. At this rate he would be running out soon. “The best in the cellar. The crucial hours of this day will be talked about for years, a century from now!” Which, even if a little confused in its syntax, was emotionally understandable.
We sat in the deep chairs and raised our glasses. It really was the best champagne in the cellar I realized as it spread happiness and warmth throughout my system. I sipped again, and had my glass topped up before I told them the story of my visit to the Presidio. Leaving out the gory bits and making it sound far more exciting than it really had been, which is the way to tell a story.
“... after the phone call I just walked out of there and into the car. I took off and you know the rest of what happened then. We ended up here.” “Incredible!” de Torres gasped. “What formidable courage to go into that den of murderers like that.” “You would do the same for your son, wouldn’t you?” I asked.
He nodded. “Of course. But I did not do it and you did. And what bravery to carry death at your fingertip. But is it not dangerous to travel to the planets, carrying this deadly virus with you...” He stopped and looked around at us as though we were all insane as my family burst into wild laughter, Angelina leaned forward and patted his hand to reassure him.
“It is not you that we are laughing at, marquez, but at Zapilote. The best part of this is that my Jim would never kill anyone. He couldn’t carry through a plot like this if there were the slightest chance that even an animal like Zapilote might die by accident.” The marquez biinked in confusion. “I do not understand?” “There is no deadly virus. The fingernail was coated with a pyretogen and a neural anesthetic. One of them gave Zapilote a hieh fever, the other numbed his extremities. The effects of both of these drugs wear off in about four hours. That’s why the deadline.” “But the doctor-the injection?” “Just sterile water. Now do you see the beauty of it all? It was just bluffl Not only is my husband the world’s greatest hero, but he is also the galaxy’s greatest con man and actor at the same time!” I lowered my head in false modesty. But what she had said was true and I did not find it too hard to take. It had been a long, hard day and so a little soothing of the ego was very much in order.
Chapter 25
I reluctantly spent a rather painful evening, since the effects of the neocain had to wear off before the doctor could treat my bruises and contusions. Afid broken ribs. Three of them had been fractured by the Colonel, and I sat there and cursed and thought evil thoughts about him while the medic shot bone rejuvenator into the rib marrow, then bound me up. When he was finally finished, a small shot of neocain and a large ron lacked me off to dreamland for some well-deserved rest.
Angelina let me sleep late the next morning, and did not look in until I was taking my second cup of coffee from the bedside dispenser.
“And how are we feeling today?” she asked cheerily.
“I don’t know how we are feeling but I are feehng like I have been drawn through a knothole.” “Poor dear,” she said, brushing my tousled hair and kissing me lightly on the forehead. “The boys have prepared a surprise that should take your mind off your troubles. “ Even as she said this the door opened and James entered carrying a projection TV set. Bolivar was right behind him with the screen. I scowled with instant distrust.
“I hate the box,” I animositied. “Particularly moronic morning cretin fodder.” Angelina patted my head soothingly.
“There, there, mustn’t get irritated. It is not morning TV because it is no longer morning but early afternoon. The traditional time on this planet for the big midday meal. Which is also traditionally followed by the news broadcast watched by almost everyone as they relax, comatose, fingers laced over distended stomach. “ “My fingers are clutched to my starving stomach. And I hate news broadcasts.” “Here comes the maid with your nine-course breakfast,” Bolivar said, stepping aside so the laden table could pass.
139 “And this is no normal broadcast either. After the trap that was laid for us outside of the Broadcasting Center we can be pretty sure that we were backtracked. Which means that the dummy interrupters were surely found. But James ran a circuit check last night and the real interrupters are still in place. It took us most of the night to get the tape ready-but we think that you will really enjoy the news today.” “I will, I will,” I enthused through a mouth full of food. “And I take back all of my earlier, surlier suggestions. I should have known. Angelina my love, sit beside me and help yourself to a chop and we will enjoy the show together.” The program that preceded the news was just ending as I ended my meal. It was a romantic opera of the kind that mental cripples are said to enjoy, with all kinds of fat people singing into each others faces, clumsy stabbings with collapsible swords followed by hearty songs from the death bed. Happily it ended just as I was reaching for something to throw at the set. A series of repulsive commercials followed, of which only the ron advertisement was bearable, all dewy glasses and clinking ice cubes. But even the most dreadful commercial must come to its sodden end. An off-key fanfare heralded the news and a smart-looking girl swam into focus.