“He’s not in his suite.”
Dorn Horsten reached over to the night table and got his glasses and put them on and then stared at the dog. “Well, where did he go?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there. Rosemary doesn’t like dogs watching when she’s making love. I slept in the living room on the couch.”
Dorn shook his head in an effort to drive the remains of sleep away. “Is she gone, too? Maybe they took a walk, or something.” He was speaking in whispers, so as not to awaken the redhead on the pillow beside him.
“She’s still there, sleeping like a log. She didn’t even wake up when I licked her.”
The Section G agent swung his feet over the side of the bed. Barbara, his bedmate, continued to sleep on, in spite of the talk. No wonder. They’d had quite a siege of it the night before. The woman had seemed insatiable. He reached over for his trousers and struggled into them, then, without even shoes, headed for the door. “Come along,” he said to the dog.
They entered Ronny’s suite without knocking. Rosemary was still stretched out, nude, on the bed.
Among other degrees, Dorn Horsten held an M.D. He stared down at her for a moment, then reached out and with his fingers opened one of her eyes.
“Drugged,” he muttered. He slapped her face back and forth for a moment.
Finally, she awakened, looking groggy. “Whaz amatter?”
Dorn said urgently, “Where’s Ronny?”
She vaguely looked over at the pillow next to hers. It was, of course, empty.
“Why… why, I don’t know.”
“He’s not here,” Dorn said urgently, “and you’ve been drugged.”
“Drugged!” Suddenly, she was more alert. Her eyes went about the room searchingly. “But… that’s impossible.”
He looked around too. “How could it have been administered? I ate everything and drank everything that you two did, and I haven’t been drugged.”
She shook her head. “I simply don’t know.”
“Did you two eat or drink anything, after you left the rest of us?”
“No. No, of course not.”
The dog looked at her strangely, but didn’t say anything. He also looked about the room. There was no sign of the bottle of champagne and the two glasses.
“Come on,” Dorn said to him. “Let’s search the rest of the house.”
They went through every room of the underground building, finding exactly nothing and finally winding up in the patio’s center.
“Maybe he went for a walk,” the big man said, knowing full well that was nonsense.
“And maybe he didn’t,” the dog growled. “She’s lying. Either that, or she’s so dopey she’s forgotten.”
Dorn glowered at him. “What in the name of the Holy Ultimate are you talking about?”
Boy said, “Last night, she came into the room with a bottle of wine and two glasses in way of a nightcap. Then she objected to my sticking around, so I left. The bottle and the glasses aren’t there now.”
Dorn muttered something and returned to his own suite. Barbara was still in the bed, out like a light. He wondered if she, too, was drugged, but doubted it; her breathing sounded perfectly normal. He got into the rest of his clothes and his shoes and headed for the living room, Boy trailing after.
He sat at the center table and brought forth his communicator and propped it up before him and activated it. Irene Kasansky’s face faded in, looking harassed, as usual.
Dorn said, “Is the Old Man available?”
“No. He’s gone over to London for some sort of confab. What’s up?”
“How about Sid Jakes?”
“He’s in conference. What’s wrong?”
“Get him out of conference. Ronny’s been nabbed.”
Her eyes widened. “What the Holy Ultimate are you talking about? The assignment you’re on is a milk run. What could possibly go wrong?”
“I don’t know,” Dorn said emptily.
She flicked a switch, and shortly Sid Jake’s face beamed out at him from the small phone screen of the communicator.
“Dorn!” he said happily. “How’s it going? Having a good time? I envy you field men. I haven’t had a vacation since… ”
Dorn Horsten interrupted him. “Something’s developed here that doesn’t make sense. We’ve only been here two days but the night before last, I caught two men searching my luggage. They got away. Last night, Ronny disappeared. His bedmate was drugged and he’s simply gone.”
“Bedmate?” Sid Jakes chortled. “You’ve been there only two days and already he’s sleeping with some mopsy? Ronny’s a fast operator.”
“I’ve got one too,” Dorn growled. “But the thing is this. Remember that Count Felix Fitzjames, the top scientist from Phrygia? Well, when he disappeared before we could brainwash him, he didn’t exactly disappear. He came here to Einstein and they took him in. He told them all he knew about the Dawnworlds, and he probably knew as much about them as anybody did, including Ronny. There was only one thing he couldn’t tell them. Where they’re located. Nobody living knows that… except Ronny.”
For once, Sid Jakes’ face was less than happy. He said, “Oh, wizard. I can see it coming.”
“Yes. Somebody on this brainworld has got hold of Ronny and it’s only a matter of time before they put him under Scop or some other truth serum, and he tells them where the Dawnmen are.”
“Why should they care?”
“How would I know?”
Sid Jakes closed his eyes in pain. “Otherwise, how are they, there on Einstein?”
“Very advanced, very reasonable, in an off-beat sort of way. I can’t see any reason for keeping them out of the United Planets, or any way of doing it when it’s put to a vote among the member worlds.”
Sid Jakes opened his eyes and said, “Find him. Find Ronny, Horsten. Find him before they get the secret from him.”
“How?” Dorn Horsten said plaintively.
“How would I know? You’re there, I’m not. But whoever has nabbed Ronny, as you put it, can’t be allowed to have the information about the location of the Dawnmen. Take whatever steps necessary. You’re a trouble shooter. Start shooting.”
“And if I have to take rugged ones, tough steps? Section G backs me to the hilt?”
“Don’t be silly,” Sid Jakes snorted. “If your methods get too rugged, we won’t even admit knowing you exist.” His face faded, glowing a sardonic grin.
Dorn Horsten closed his own eyes in mute agony.
He opened them and looked at Boy. He said, “I haven’t been out of this house since we came to Einstein. How in the name of the Holy Ultimate am I supposed to find Ronny Bronston?”
The dog hung his tongue out of his mouth and for three quick pants, wagged his bobbed tail twice and said, “What do you think I’ve got this nose for?”
“Nose?”
“Nose.”
“How do you mean?”
The dog had been stretched out on the floor. Now he arose. “Come along,” he said. “We’ll trail the Boss.”
Dorn Horsten hesitantly followed him. All his inclinations were to get into immediate touch with Fredric and the other members of the committee. On the face of it, they couldn’t be part of the conspiracy. Had they wanted to question Ronny about the location of the Dawnworlds they wouldn’t have had to abduct him. They could have taken him, there at the spaceport, and injected him with the truth serum, Scop, then and there. Besides, after the day-long conversations they’d had, he couldn’t believe the six committee members could be Machiavellian. However, how had Ronny put it? High intelligence was no guarantee of integrity.
He followed the Vizsla back to the door of Ronny’s suite and the dog scurried around the room sniffing. Then he hung his tongue out several inches, turned and trotted toward the patio, then the entry to the underground house, his nose near the ground.