Dark World (Undying Mercenaries Series Book 9) by B. V. Larson

Author:B. V. Larson [Larson, B. V.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Published: 2018-03-11T22:00:00+00:00

-29-

When the air car landed, I took a good look around. I found myself in a luxurious office, a real surprise for Central.

First off, the room was big. Possibly, this entire floor of Central had been used to make this one, gigantic chamber.

Distantly, I saw a figure rise from a desk and approach the car. As if the car itself recognized the man, it rolled down a window for me.

“Ah, McGill!” Praetor Drusus called out. “There you are!”

It was time for a grin of greeting, so I created one, despite the fact it didn’t come from my heart.

“Praetor Drusus!” I called out, bellowing back at him.

I opened the car door gently, not wanting to do any further damage, and climbed out.

“What do you think of my new car from Pegasus—Sweet Jesus!” Drusus broke off.

Dumbfounded, he walked around the vehicle and surveyed the damage.

There was a wisp of smoke and a powerful odor. My best guess was one of the tires had been abraded down to nothing, like a pencil eraser in the hands of a grade-schooler.

Standing beside the vehicle, my smile faded away.

“Uh…” I said. “I think the AI might need some adjustment.”

“I don’t believe this…” Drusus said, making a second circuit of the car, faster this time. He spotted and touched each damaged component.

Shaking my head, I made tsking sound. “A damned shame. Surprising too, seeing as it’s a genuine Pegasus product. Those aliens really know what they’re doing—usually.”

Drusus looked like I’d run over his cat. “This car was trained to come down that shaft to my new office on its very first day, and it’s never made a navigational error before!”

“Calibration,” I said firmly. “That’s what it needs. These vehicles can be tricky, sir. Just ask Turov, she’s had several air cars.”

Drusus finally looked up at me, peering into my eyes. His expression had shifted from open and welcoming to suspicious.

For my own part, I thought his mind was traveling down unfair pathways. He was already suspecting me. Sure, I’d wrecked his car, but that wasn’t the point. Why couldn’t he at least give me the benefit of the doubt?

None of my thoughts showed on my face, naturally. In fact, I maintained a dumbfounded frown of shared concern. My hands were on my hips, and I eyed the car curiously, as if trying to fathom the mystery of its status.

Drusus let his eyes travel over the car, then me, and then the shaft overhead.

“When you got out of the car, you were in the driver’s seat, weren’t you?” he asked.

“Um… yes sir. I get sick in backseats. It’s been that way since I was a kid.”

He nodded slowly, he opened the back door. There, plain to see, the seatbelt and seats had been slashed. The foam padding underneath was exposed and mushrooming up in an ugly-looking manner.

Drusus straightened and looked at me with his teeth clamped together.

“I shouldn’t have done it,” he said. “It’s my fault.”

“Uh… what’s your fault, Praetor, sir?”

“I shouldn’t have allowed a man of your caliber into my air car.

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