So why the charade with the Dydeetown girl?
Maybe I'd never know.
"Anything else you can tell me?"
"That's it. Except there's a whisper about The Man From Mars being involved in the deal."
Laughed. "Sure! And I'm a Boedekker heir!"
Elmero shrugged. "You asked me what I'd heard, not what I thought was sensible."
Got up and headed for the door.
"Thanks, Elm."
"De nada — as long as you remember my cut."
— 8-
Was back in my office cubicle, whiffing some tay. Had just let Ignatz loose to start gobbling up the cockroaches and was watching Newsface Six doing this interesting interview with Joey Jose when some graffiti about inhumane treatment of chlorcows warped into the holochamber. Wondered if they had this much datastream graffiti in the Western Megalops or Chi-Kacy or Tex-Mex. Annoying at times, especially when the datastream was interviewing my favorite comedian.
Turned the set off when a stranger walked through the door. Short, strutting, roosterish creature, slightly older than me, with curly blondish hair banged in front, wearing a worn, dark green pseudovelv jump. Figured him for a client.
Luckily, I was wrong.
"You Dreyer?" he said in a nasal voice.
"That's me." Already didn't like him.
"Where's my clone?"
"Don't know. Never seen anyone who looks like you before."
"Not me, you jog! The Harlow clone!"
"Oh. Who are you?"
"Ned Spinner. Her owner."
Neither of us offered to shake hands.
"Never heard of her."
"Don't give me that dreg! She didn't work last night like she was supposed to. I found your name and address in her room."
Shrugged. "So?"
"So she's mine and she's missing and if you're trying to steal her, you're as good as dead!"
Getting mad now. Gave him one of my best glares.
"Going to say this once, then you can leave: The only thing I like less than clones are people who own them. Goodbye."
He opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind. Seemed to believe me. He stalked out without another word.
Easy to see why he wanted Harlow-c back. He'd given up his right to have a child and invested a load of credit to buy a clone gestated from Jean Harlow's DNA, then he'd set her up in a Dydeetown cubicle and proceeded to live off her earnings. Without her he was broke.
My heart was breaking.
Wasn't too much later that Harlow-c herself walked into the office. Saw how the left side of her mouth was swollen and discolored and got a queasy tug inside.
"What did you tell Spinner?"
"That I never heard of you."
"You did? " She looked shocked. "Thanks."
"Why'd you miss work?"
"I can't work. I'm too worried about Kyle. I've got to talk to you!" she blurted, her words tumbling over each other. "It's important. It's about Kyle."
"Sure," I said. "Sit down."
She stood and stared at me, obviously taken aback. "I thought you'd throw me out."
"Now why would I do that? Just because you lied to me about your boyfriend? Don't be silly!"
Knowing what she knew about me made me want to crawl under the desk. But I couldn't let her see any of that. Had my position to maintain. Couldn't let myself feel lower than a clone. So I washed out yesterday. It never happened. That was the only way I could sit in front of her.
"I promised him I'd never tell anyone what I knew about him. But I'm going to tell you everything now."
"You mean that his real name's 'Kel' and that the 'exporting firm' he works for is really Yokomata?"
"His real name's Kyle Bodine — and he works for the R.A."
Almost choked on my tay. Kel Barkham working for the Rackets Authority — this I had to hear.
"Sit down and tell me all about it. All about it."
She sat and began doing just that.
"Kyle is an R.A. agent. He's been working his way up through the ranks of the Yokomata organization for years, waiting for the fight moment to run the whole gang in."
All I could do to keep from laughing in her face — clones are so dumb.
"Why didn't he?" I said. "Understand he's been Yokomata's right-hand man for years."
"He was waiting for the fight moment. And then an undreamed-of opportunity presented itself."
"He met you."
Never thought of myself as a subtle sort, but she flashed me a very genuine smile as the remark whooshed right by her left ear.
"Oh, how nice of you to say that! But the truth is that he had an opportunity to catch The Man From Mars."
Stiffened in my chair. The Man From Mars — second time in as many tenths that his name had come up. Didn't take to the idea of the most notorious smuggler in Occupied Space having a hand in this.
But it made a sort of sense. Earth-produced Zem had a premium value on the Sol worlds, and a triple premium on the outworlds — except on someplace like Tolive where I'd heard it was legal and could be bought over the counter.
Who better to get it off-planet than The Man From Mars?
Had a bad feeling that I was getting further and further out of my depth there. But I couldn't stop now.
"Where do you fit into all of this?"
"I told you: We were going to married and move-"
"— Out Where All The Good Folks Go. Bloaty. But didn't you play any part in the plot?"
"Why…yes. How did you know?"
"Lucky guess. What did you do for Barkham?"
"Bodine — Kyle Bodine."
"Whatever. Talk."
"I delivered a package to The Man From Mars for him."
"You saw him?"
Far as I knew, nobody had ever seen The Man From Mars.
"Not…not exactly. I heard a voice. It told me to put the package down and go. So I went."
"Where and when was this?"
"Friday morning. In a cave on the Maine Coastal Preserve."
"And when did you last see Bar — Bodine?"
"That morning."
"And he was supposed to meet you Friday night?"
She nodded. "We were supposed to leave for the outworlds right away. Kyle said his life in Sol System wouldn't be worth a soupbowl in freefall after he turned in The Man From Mars. We had tickets for the Friday night shuttle."
"How come you waited until Wednesday to come to me? Why didn't you go to the R.A. first?"
"I did. But they said they'd never heard of Kyle. Which was what I expected — Kyle told me his cover was so deep that only a privileged handful in the government even knew he existed."
"Fewer than that even, I'm sure," I said.
She nodded. "Probably. But I was getting so worried when there was no news release from the R.A. about the capture of The Man From Mars…I thought something might have gone wrong. And since he told me never to go to the Officials about him, I came to you."
"My lucky day. Can you find your way back to that cave?"
"Yes. I have the co-ords written down."
That startled me.
"Clones can't write."
Actually, most Realpeople can't read or write, either. But I'd never heard of a clone who could.
She drew herself up. "I'm teaching myself. For Kyle."
Felt a wave of disgust. Poor dumb thing. Led on and lied to by this dregger, teaching herself to read just for him, thinking he was going to take her to the outworlds. Realpeople shouldn't treat clones like that…
But on the other hand, what if he'd been straight with her? If he did work for the R.A., he'd have to get off-planet real fast after blowing his cover. And being with the R.A., he'd be in a position to wrangle a nice new greencard for anyone, even a clone.