Destroyer 90 - Ghost in the Machine by Warren Murphy & Richard Sapir

Author:Warren Murphy & Richard Sapir
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

At first, Randal T. Rumpp thought his executive assistant had broken down. She was babbling again. Worse, she was raving.

"It-it's a ghost! A real ghost!" Dorma Wormser cried.

"What's a ghost?" Rumpp asked calmly. It was important to be calm when dealing with the unstable.

Dorma grabbed his arm. "The thing in the trophy room. Come see, come see. You'll see. It's real."

Randal Rumpp looked out the window. The BCN helicopter was fluttering around aimlessly. He wasn't finished being quoted yet, but the chopper didn't seem interested in coming back for more pearls of Rumpp wisdom.

He let his executive secretary tug him to the trophy room, thinking this had better be worth his time.

Randal Rumpp saw right away that it wasn't a ghost. Even though it was white and floated just under the ceiling like a ghost probably would float, it was no ghost.

It looked vaguely humanoid. There were two arms, two legs, a trunk, and a head. The head was not like a human head. It was too big, too smooth, too white, and too hairless, and where its face should have been there was a kind of puffy balloon.

In the dim light, the thing shone. Its edges were misty.

Dorma whispered, "See, Mr. Rumpp? A ghost."

"It's no ghost," said Randal Rumpp, grabbing an original Frank Lloyd Wright chair. He lifted it up over his head and poked at the floating apparition with the chair's hard legs.

The legs went right through the floating white being.

"See? It's unreal," Dorma said.

"It's no ghost," repeated Randal Rumpp sternly. "Get a grip on yourself."

"How can it not be a ghost?"

"Because," Randal Rumpp pointed out reasonably. "It's got two cables sticking out of its shoulders. They look like coaxial cables. Coaxials mean electricity. Ghosts aren't electric."

"How . . . how do we know that?"

"Because we have a grip on ourselves," said Randal Rumpp, moving around to get a better look at the floating thing.

The thing was emitting a kind of soft shine, like a low-energy light bulb. Through it, certain details could be made out. The pulsing golden veinwork. The fact that it wore boots and gloves, and there were straps that snugged at his shoulders.

Randal Rumpp was trying to see what the straps were holding on to when he noticed the thing's belt. The buckle-it was round and white-suddenly blinked red. It was a very angry red color. It made Dorma shrink in fear. Then it turned white again. Then red. It was like something short-circuiting.

Randal Rumpp took this as further proof that the thing was electrical. Randal Rumpp feared nothing electrical. Not even the electrician's union, which could make or break a construction project.

"What does the red light mean?" Dorma wondered from the safety of the open door. She looked ready to bolt.

"It means," Randal Rumpp said, pointing to the Sears DieHard battery clearly strapped to the floating thing's back, "that its power is running low."

"I don't understand."

"That makes two of us. Where did it come from?"

"I think . . . I think it came from the telephone .

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