But with all the Judge Naeb and Su Dival and Garm and election nonsense, I didn’t want to risk a crowd of people standing over my drooling form trying to figure out how to kill me.
I got to Delovoa’s and was met by the usual handsome young men.
I was taken to a rear apartment where Two Clem and Delovoa were lounging and supping on wine and crackers.
Two Clem was not young. He had been a celebrity maybe a century ago, or even longer than that. Still, he didn’t look bad. Whether a combination of good genes, or drugs, or surgeries, he certainly appeared a lot better than I did after the same span of time.
“Two Clem,” I said, entering the room. “It’s good to see you again.”
He gave me an uninterested half-glance and went back to speaking to Delovoa.
“Uh, Hank,” Delovoa interjected, on my behalf, “have you met my guest? Two Clem, this is our Supreme Kommilaire and Secretary of City.”
This time he didn’t even acknowledge me.
“It’s been a pleasure as always, Delovoa. I’ll talk to you again soon,” Two Clem said.
With that, he wiped his mouth and removed some crumbs from his outfit, which I noticed was rather subdued from the clothing I had seen him wear in the past. Though our styles tend to change after eighty years. Actually, I was wearing the same clothes from that era, only wider.
“Hey,” I said. “I need to talk to you.”
He walked past me without a word.
“Stop him,” I said to Delovoa.
“Me? You could stop him with just your nose.”
But he was fast-walking to the door and I couldn’t fast-walk to anything. I could shoot him, but that’s not very useful against someone I wanted to speak to.
“You have a bunch of manservants, or boyservants, tell them to grab him.”
Delovoa rang his bell like mad and four twinks rushed in.
“Don’t let that man leave!”
As they reached Two Clem, he suddenly turned, and kicked the living crap out of them all!
There was no way he could beat up Delovoa’s chiseled man-muffins unless he was a mutant or something. The guy was likely within a few decades of my age, which meant he could reasonably be considered a senior citizen.
But he was a blur of motion and combat finesse. I had seen such skill exhibited only a few times: by Garm and other assassins like her from the Quadrad.
Other than bleeding on him, the twinks did nothing to Two Clem. However, they did manage to slow him down. And I walked past and planted myself in front of the door.
He was fast, I’ll give him that. But unless he could move eight tons, he wasn’t going to get out of here.
“Two Clem, I only want to talk,” I said.
Delovoa came into the hallway leading to the door and gawked seeing all his servants groaning on the floor.
“I would like to leave,” Two Clem said. His eyes did not focus on me but seemed to be looking past.
“Why are you and Hobardi on the outs? Did you know they are looking for you? Is this—” and I realized I didn’t understand most of what had just happened. “How did you do this?”
“I would like to leave,” he repeated.
I looked back to Delovoa, who shrugged helpfully.
“What were you talking about?” I asked Delovoa.
“Nothing. Just normal stuff. He says he might run for office.”
“That’s not nothing!” I asked Two Clem, “Is that true?”
He stood there impassively.
The twinks on the floor warily scooted away when they regained consciousness and the use of their limbs. I kept throwing questions at Two Clem but he didn’t answer. It’s like he completely shut down.
“Do you think he’s hypnotized or something?” I asked Delovoa.
“I was talking to him for hours.”
“Why didn’t you call me right away?” I asked.
“I was lonely and wanted to talk and figured you would do something like this,” he said, as if that was a good answer.
I didn’t want to move away from the door and try and grab Two Clem because I didn’t know what that would gain me. If I had him in my hands what would I do, break his legs?
I wondered what Hobardi wanted done. Would he pay me for Two Clem’s return? Pay me for his murder?
It was ridiculous that I was thinking about sending a courier to go get someone else to give me information on the person standing seven feet away from me.
And then I saw it:
A light twinkled between Delovoa and me and this time I was ready.
“It’s 19-10! Get down.”
I had my guns out… about half as fast as 19-10 appeared, fired, and vanished again.
Two Clem hit the floor.
“Damn!” I shouted.
I walked to his body and saw he had four of those unique puncture wounds in his skull.
“Behind you, Hank!” Delovoa yelled.
I turned just in time to see 19-10 again. He fired. But it wasn’t at me. It was at the already dead form of Two Clem.
Huh?
Two Clem was shot again in the head.
As I was trying to see why, or what the pattern was, 19-10 disappeared from behind me and reappeared on the other side and fired four more shots and vanished. He kept hitting Two Clem’s head.
“Hank, he’s still here, remember?”
“Why is he still shooting him?” I said to the ether: “hey, he’s dead.”
“Who knows, cover him up,” Delovoa said hastily.
“With what?”
“Your body!”
I looked down just in time to see 19-10 appear again, fire, and disappear. Two Clem was shot in the head again.
I didn’t want to do this for a lot of reasons. I couldn’t get back up on my own. A dangerous assassin was teleporting around me. And I was going to squish the body a lot more than 19-10 ever could.
But he seemed to be aiming for the head over and over.
So I turned sideways and fell to the floor.
“Ow!” Delovoa said, presumably because of the vibrations in his feet.
I then reached out my arm and kind of pulled the corpse of Two Clem in like a morbid stuffed animal and snuggled it, keeping his head covered with my elbow and between my knee and chest.
“Now what?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Delovoa said, “this is as far as I thought.”
CHAPTER 37
“Is this going to give me cancer?” I asked, as Delovoa tried to fit his personal deep scanner into the space I was leaving for Two Clem’s corpse.
“You wish all you had was cancer. Actually, I’m not sure. But it would take longer to metastasize than you’ll likely live anyway.”
“Thanks,” I said gloomily.
It had been some hours since 19-10 had been here and I hadn’t moved much. He had appeared a few more times attempting to try and get shots on Two Clem, but I had his skull sufficiently covered so that it wasn’t possible.
Delovoa and I weren’t especially anxious for our own safety. If 19-10 had wanted to shoot us, he could have done so at any point in the past months. The more looks I got at 19-10’s guns, the more I was sure I wouldn’t even feel them. And Delovoa was simply too valuable to anyone who treasured their own existence and quality of life—at least on Belvaille.
When Delovoa had some of his personal security leave their posts at the walls and gates and come inside to protect my prone form, that was the last we saw of 19-10.
It was possible he was still hanging around waiting and watching in his other dimensions, but Delovoa figured he would waste fuel doing so. It’s not like that armor was a space ship with a gigantic fuel tank.
I had some of the twinks bring me food and drink while I was waiting.
A few hours past this and Delovoa had scanned, probed, poked, scraped, and otherwise examined the former Two Clem.
We were alone in the hallway, my side hurting from lying on it for so many hours, when he made his pronouncement.