“They only get my body cleaner,” she said. “There are other factors to getting clean.”
We dressed and went out for dinner and that’s when they tried to kill me.
There was a gritty ripping noise and bits of a storage dome fell from a sudden long slit. Nova stared at it curiously, then protested as I grabbed her wrist and threw us into the dark between domes. She protested, both verbally and physically.
“Here? My god, Diego, don’t you get enough? Hey, what are you doing?” I was dragging her, kicking and fighting, further into the dark. I saw a shadow move on the dome across the street and I had no time to explain things. I found her jaw in the dark and punched her out. I lay very still, my heart pounding, my mind racing.
Why were they trying to kill me? Us? No, it had to be me. A good marksman could take me out with a laser and leave Nova holding a hand with no arm attached.
I watched the light patch on the dome across the narrow street, hoping to see a shadow, although what I was going to do then I hadn’t the faintest idea. I had no weapon, except my brain.
I felt around in the dark and found a rock, a wedge of permaplast, a broken electronic plug-in, all things that had escaped the notice of the cleansweepers. I took a good grip on Nova’s wrist and threw the three bits high into the night. I started to drag Nova away and I felt a plasticon box by my foot and I flipped that back toward the light. The bits of trash fell on domes and started sliding to the ground. The box skidded noisily and crashed against the far dome. A shadow moved and I yanked the limp Nova around the curve as I saw the ruby light glowing. Behind me something suddenly hissed and there was a crumbling and a gushing of liquids.
I scooped Nova up in my arms and ran. I zig-zagged in a stumbling fashion, then found I was at the back of a bar, or at least a place with some people in it. I slumped against the curving dome, drawing air with ragged breaths, still holding Nova. Finally, I eased her to the ground and tried bringing her around, then I stopped. I had to think before she awoke and came at me with questions. Who the hell was trying to kill me? The first answer was that Nova had a jealous suitor, but I hadn’t expected this from any of them. The nuvomartians I had met were stand-up, punch-out types, not backshooters or assassins.
Who, then? I hadn’t made any enemies on Mars, except those connected with Nova.
But Brian Thorne had enemies. Nothing personal, mind you, but a thousand men would like to see me dead. A stock shift here, a chairmanship there, a directorate given to someone else. Five-to-four decisions made five-to-four the other direction. Nothing personal, Thorne, but drop dead.
Or one of the Neopolitikons, with their ideas of Communism mixed with a sort of ego fascism. Kill Thorne for the People’s Sake. Nothing personal, Thorne, you are just a symbol.
A nut, driven mad in the ghettos of the poor, one day sees me drive by in a car at the moment he goes manic, and I am the focus. Nothing personal, mister, because I am mad.
Or something personal. A failure who blames me. An incompetent employee fired by one of my managers and I am in the crosshairs. The son of a board chairman whom I have caught stealing and who turned suicide as a result of the discovery. The present lover of an ex-mistress who thinks there might be something in my will for her. A man with a laser.
I knew I would have to check. I wondered if they would have any Null-Edit tapes here. No, that would take too long. A tight beam was the only fast way. Would a Publitex flack be allowed to spend that kind of money? My only hope was that they knew nothing of the way a flack operates.
Then I grinned ruefully. Who was I hiding from? At least one man here knew who I was. I was either being killed because I was Nova’s lover or because I was Brian Thorne.
As gently as possible I slapped Nova awake and stifled her groaning questions with a hand over her mouth. I ignored her protests about a broken jaw and told her someone was trying to kill me and did she know who it might be?
“Sure, about ten or twelve diggers, a handful of grubbers, one computer jockey, and a Marine. At last count.”
“I’m serious, Nova.”
“So am I. But I don’t think they’d do it from the dark. Well, maybe one . . . no, he’d switch control units on your sandcat and it would seal the doors and exhaust the oxy about fifteen kilometers out. Or something. Jesus, Diego, don’t you have any old enemies?”
“You don’t seem surprised that people would try.”
She rubbed her jaw as she got to her feet. “That’s life. And death. Some people buy what they want, some charm it, some build it. Some kill for it. Someone either wants me bad enough to void you, or there’s more to you than flackery.”
“Come on,” I said wearily. “Let’s get in where there are people.”
She limped along next to me and shook her head. “Well, I must say being around you is not dull. Why did you knock me out? Oh, never mind, I understand. There was no time to explain. Next time I’ll be more alert. It isn’t often I’m next to Ground Zero at an assassination.”
I looked at her in amazement “Does this happen around here often?”
“No You are the first assassination I know of.”
“Attempted assassination.”
“Yeah, that, too. Well, this isn’t exactly Fun City Park, but it’s not the Vault of Horror either. The people here feel strongly about things. I’ll have Dad’s agent get that dome sealed up and the damages paid.”
“There are two domes. One full of something wet.”
“Oh, dear. We’d better tell Maintenance. Come on, there’s a telecom in Flynn’s.”
She walked on ahead of me, then stopped to take a rock out of her boot. “You sure mess up a girl dragging her like that,” she said. “I’m bleeding in a couple of spots.”
“Better red than dead,” I said.
“Better bed than dead. Listen, Diego, let’s make that call and go over to the Guild for tonight, huh? I suddenly feel very interested in life-enhancing actions.” She looked up at me with a sudden grin. “Don’t get yourself killed, huh? I haven’t used you up, yet.”
“Oh, thanks,” I said.
“You’re welcome. But don’t get a big head; I tell that to everyone who has failed an assassination assignation. You were a terribly uncooperative assassinee, Diego.”
“Goddamn, you are a cheerful demidead person.”
“Not me,” she grinned. “I am going to live forever and get the money-back offer on my geriatric treatments. Come on.”
I followed her, looking carefully into the various darknesses we passed. We made the call to Maintenance, bought a few drinks and evaded hands; all the while I rather nervously scrutinized everyone. We rented a new room for the night, this one guarded by a two-meter hulk who smiled at Nova as though he were a child and it was his birthday, and glowered at me as if I had taken away all the presents. Nova coaxed him into lending me a spare Colt laser that someone had forgotten. Even as we made love, with that special kind of feverish intensity that people have when life seems short, I knew where that weapon was every second.
In the morning I coded two messages and put them on the net that would move it around to the side facing Earth, or the synchronous satellite that was in equilateral orbit. They would be sent in tightbeam high-speed blurts to Earthcom, then down to the surface. When Huo received it with my Drop Everything Else colophon I expected he would do just that, and a reply should be back in a few days at the latest. The message to him was simple and short: Who is trying to kill me and why?