Coren glanced at the security, both of whom had risen to their feet upon his entrance. "I really am rather busy, Mr. Socras. "
"Mr. Towne realizes this. It will be a brief lunch."
Coren considered his options: run, call the police, or comply. From the look of the pair of security types, it was even odds that he could get away. Dragging in the police might complicate things to the point that his investigation of Nyom's death would have to be postponed or abandoned. It always seemed to be the petty things that interrupted one's plans.
That was the problem, though. If it were petty; why would Towne be so insistent? Reluctantly, he concluded that his only viable option was to go along and find out.
"Very well. Shall I meet him somewhere?"
"We have a car, Mr. Lanra."
"Of course you do." Coren made himself smile. "Shall we, then?"
"One moment, sir," one of the security said and pulled out a palm monitor that looked remarkably like Coren's own. He walked around Coren twice, then reached into Coren's pocket and removed his hemisphere. He handed it to Towne.
"I don't think you'll need this, Mr. Lanra," Towne said, setting it on the Desk. "Our security is very good."
"I'm sure it is," Coren said tightly.
Socras led the way out of the building and across the avenue to the garage.
The drive lasted fifteen minutes, during which time Socras made a few attempts at polite conversation which Coren ignored. To his credit, Coren thought, he took the hint and lapsed into a polite silence.
The windows were all darkened. When they stopped, he had no idea where exactly he was.
He was shocked to see a garden.
Outside? No-he saw delicate ribbing overhead, supporting a high vaulting ceiling. Relieved, he surveyed the rest of the chamber. A garden, yes, and an expensive one.
A large dead patch off to the left, an area that looked as if some withering blight had eaten the life out of the very air around it, spoiled the placid beauty around him. Even the pavement and wall nearby were blackened.
A touch on his elbow prompted him to move forward.
Myler Towne sat behind a small table covered with dishes. He dwarfed his chair and made the people around him appear small. He looked up as Coren stopped.
"Mr. Lanra, " he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "I'm pleased you accepted my invitation. "
"Is that what it was?"
"Of course. It's illegal to coerce people."
"Of course it is. What can I do for you, Mr. Towne?"
"Come to work for me."
Coren held back a laugh.
Towne looked at him, scooped a mound of mashed potato onto his fork, and smiled.
"Neither of us," he said, "has time for banter. I have some questions before you answer me. You saw the damage when you came in?"
"Yes…"
"I used to take my lunch there."
Coren glanced back at the dead patch. "You mean that was an attack?"
"Did you engineer it?"
Coren started. "Excuse me?"
Towne smiled briefly. "I didn't think so. Have you ever worked for Imbitek?"
"I think you'd know."
"Possibly. I don't have all my predecessor's records." Towne waited, ate another bite of potato, then pushed the plate away a thumb's width. "Did you?"
"No."
"You were involved in that imbroglio last year that put Mr. Mikels in prison, weren't you?"
"No."
Myler Towne glanced around at his people. "I was misinformed? I was under the impression that you met with the Auroran liaison from the Calvin Institute. Was that on some other matter? I ask, you see, for a number of reasons, not all of which may be immediately connected-"
"My employer was under suspicion for the events that put your employer in prison, Mr. Towne. I was doing my job, seeing to his security. I was not, however, involved in any of it."
"Hmm. Indeed. Then why have you been twice to the Auroran embassy in the last two days?"
"Your first message to call came before either of those meetings, so I assume your reasons had nothing to do with that. Have they changed?"
"When I hire someone I want to know about them."
"You aren't hiring me."
Towne gave a mock frown of disbelief. "You 're turning my offer down?"
"I am."
"But you haven't even heard it."
Coren sighed. "Must I?"
Myler Towne stood. He was an enormous man, easily head and shoulders taller than Coren, and not, as Coren first suspected, run to fat. For his size, he had a trim waistline, which implied that the shoulders filling his smock were solid and powerful.
"It's such a good offer," Towne said.
He came around the small table and an attendant immediately began clearing off the dishes. Another removed the table, and a third took away the chair.
Towne took Coren's upper right arm in a massive hand that nearly encircled his bicep. "Walk with me, Mr. Lanra."
Coren moved without thinking. There was no question of refusing.
Towne guided him deeper into the arboreta. The scents of various flowers mingled, almost too sweet. The colors competed for his eye.
"Do you like it?" Towne asked.
"It's…astonishing."
"Not entirely decorative. Beautiful, yes, but this is a working facility. There are several plots of non-Terran plantlife."
"Isn't that…?"
"Illegal? No, we have permission. Well, for most of them. A few unexpected forms got in with the authorized seeds and have proven useful. We do a substantial business in pharmaceuticals, as well as our industrial divisions. "
Coren glanced back in the direction of the "accident" and shuddered.
"No, that wasn't caused by an alien plant," Towne said. "Not directly, at least. We manage the biospheres here better than that. What you saw was a deliberate attempt to kill me. A very fast-acting substance-something we call a decompiler-was introduced in a standard defoliant. The plants we grew there possessed a method of self-defense that produced a cloud of protein molecules as they tried to rid themselves of the infection-in this instance a hopeless task, but it kept the poor things spewing vapor. I liked to eat there because the molecules so produced have a very pleasant aroma and a side benefit for the palate. Anyway, the moment this compound, which the plants continuously kept in the air, came into contact with flesh, it reacted with the adiposa and began to work faster. Much faster. One of my gardeners wandered in there just before lunch a few day sago. The entire plot was reduced to the state you saw in about ten minutes."
"Um…" Coren worked to keep the image out of his head and failed. "So someone is trying to assassinate you?"
"Absolutely."
"What does this have to do with me?"
"Nothing. That's why I called you. I live within thick layers of security, Mr. Lanra. For someone to get that close…"
Coren nodded, understanding perfectly. "You don't trust your own staff."
"There are a few, of course, but I'm not sure I would secure the results I need if I were to put them to finding the traitor. I think it would be better done by an outsider, someone not overly familiar with the situation or the personnel involved."
"I suppose its pointless to ask if there was surveillance."
"Constant. We have nothing. We've reviewed the record and nothing unusual happened. I have one gardener for that plot-had, I should say-and he was the only one recorded tending the area. I doubt he would have been stupid enough to step into his own trap had he laid it."
"It would be extreme. Any idea who ordered it?"
"Oh, yes, I have a very good idea. I can't prove it. And I'd rather not say just now."
At that point, Towne released Coren's arm and stopped. Coren turned to face him.
"I would rather wait till I hear your answer," Towne said.
Coren shook his head. "Any other time, Mr. Towne, I might consider it. But just now…"
"I'll pay you half a million credits. Half now, half when your investigation is successful."
Coren's breath exploded as if he had been punched.