The intercom buzzed. Jesus Pietro unhooked it from his belt and said, "Castro."
"Jansen, sir. I'm call' from the vivarium."
"Well?"
"There are six rebels missing. Do you want their names?"
Jesus Pietro glanced around him. They'd carried the last unconscious colonist away ten minutes ago. These last stretcher passengers were carport personnel.
"You should have them all. Have you checked with the operating room? I saw at least one dead under a door."
"I'll check, sir."
The carport was back to normal. The rebels hadn't had time to mess it up as they'd messed up the halls' and the electricians' rec room. Jesus Pietro debated whether to return to his office or to trace the rebels' charge back through the rec room. Then he happened to notice two men arguing by the garages. He strolled over.
"You had no right to send Bessie out!" one was shouting. He wore a raider's uniform, and he was tall, very dark, enlistment-poster handsome.
"You bloody raiders think you own these cars," the mechanic said contemptuously.
Jesus Pietro smiled, for the mechanics felt exactly the same. "What's the trouble?" he asked.
"This idiot can't find my car! Sorry, sir."
"And which car is yours, Captain?"
"Bessie. I've been using Bessie for three years, and this morning some idiot took it out to spray the woods. Now look! They've lost her, sir!" The man's voice turned plaintive.
Jesus Pietro turned cold blue eyes on the mechanic. "You've lost a car?"
"No sir. I just don't happen to know where they've put it."
"Where are the cars that came back from spraying the woods?"
"That's one of them." The mechanic pointed across the carport. "We were half finished unloading her when those fiends came at us. Matter of fact we were unloading both of them." The mechanic scratched his head. He met Jesus Pietro's eyes with the utmost reluctance. "I haven't seen the other one since."
"There are prisoners missing. You know that?" He didn't wait for the mechanic's answer. "Find Bessie's serial number and description and give them to my secretary. If you find Bessie, call my office. For the moment I'm going to assume the car is stolen."
The mechanic turned and ran toward an office. Jesus Pietro used his handphone to issue instructions regarding a possible stolen car.
Jansen came back on the line. "One rebel dead, sir. That leaves five missing." He listed them.
"All right. It's beginning to look like they took a car. See if the wall guards saw one leaving."
"They'd have reported it, sir."
"I'm not so certain. Find out."
"Sir, the carport was attacked. The guards had to report five prisoners stealing an aircar during a mob attack!"
"Jansen, I think they might have forgotten to. You understand me?" There was steel in his voice. Jansen signed off without further protest.
Jesus Pietro looked up at the sky, rubbing his moustache with two fingers. A stolen car would be easy to find. There were no crew pleasure-cars abroad now, not in the middle of Millard Parlette's speech. But they might have landed it. And if a car had been stolen in full view of the wall guards, it had been stolen by ghosts.
That would fit admirably with the other things that had been happening at the Hospital.
CHAPTER 8
POLLY'S EYES
GEOFFREY EUSTACE PARLETTE's house was different inside. The rooms were big and comfortable, furnished in soft good taste. They were innumerable. Toward the back were a pool table, a small bowling alley, an auditorium and stage with pull-down movie screen. The kitchen was the size of Harry Kane's living-room. Matt and Laney and Lydia Hancock had moved through the entire house with stun guns at the ready. They had found no living thing, barring the rugs and the no-less-than-six housecleaner nests.
Lydia had threatened force to get Matt to return to the living room. He wanted to explore. He'd seen incredible bedrooms. Hobbyists' bedrooms ...
In a living room two stories tall, before a vast false fireplace whose stone logs showed red electrical heat where they touched, the five survivors dropped into couches. Harry Kane still moved carefully, but he seemed almost recovered from the stunner that had caught him in the Hospital. Hood had his voice back, but not his strength.
Matt slumped in the couch. He wriggled, adjusting his position, and finally put his feet up. It was good to feel safe.
"Tiny hearts and livers," said Hood.
"Yah," said Matt.
"That's impossible."
Harry Kane made a questioning noise.
"I saw them," said Matt. "The rest of it was pretty horrible, but that was the worst."
Harry Kane was sitting upright. "In the organ banks?"
"Yes, dammit, in the organ banks. Don't you believe me? They were in special tanks of their own, makeshift-looking, with the motors sitting in the water next to the organs. The glass was warm."
"Stasis tanks aren't warm," said Hood.
"And Implementation doesn't take children," said Harry Kane. "If they did, I'd know it."
Matt merely glared.
"Hearts and livers," said Harry. "Just those? Nothing else?"
"Nothing I noticed," said Matt. "No, wait. There were a couple of tanks just like them. One was empty. One looked ... polluted, I think."
"How long were you in there?"
"Just long enough to get sick to my stomach. Mist Demons, I wasn't investigating anything! I was looking for a map!"
"In the organ banks?"
"Lay off," said Laney. "Relax, Matt. It doesn't matter."
Mrs. Hancock had gone to find the kitchen. She returned now, with a pitcher and five glasses. "Found this. No reason we shouldn't mess up the place, is there?"
They assured her there wasn't, and she poured for them.
Hood said, "I'm more interested in your alleged psychic powers. I've never read of anything like you've got. It must be something new."
Matt grunted.
"I should tell you that anyone who believes in the so-called-psi powers at all usually thinks he's psychic himself." Hood's tone was dry, professional. "We may find nothing at all."
"Then how did we get here?"
"We may never know. Some new Implementation policy? Or maybe the Mist Demons love you, Matt."
"I thought of that, too."
Mrs. Hancock returned to the kitchen.
"When you tried to sneak up to the Hospital," Hood continued, "you were spotted right away. You must have run through the electric-eye net. You didn't attempt to run?"
"They had four spotlights on me. I just stood up,"
"Then they ignored you? They let you walk away?"
"That's right. I kept looking back, waiting for that loudspeaker to say something. It never did. Then I ran."
"And the man who took you into the Hospital. Did anything happen just before he went insane and ran back to the gatehouse?"
"Like what?"
"Anything involving light--"
"No."
Hood looked disappointed. Laney said, "People seem to forget about you."
"Yah. It's been like that all my life. In school the teacher wouldn't call on me unless I knew the answer. Bullies never bothered me."