Tek Power by William Shatner

Author:William Shatner [Shatner, William]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense, Technothrillers, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science Fiction, Adventure, Thrillers
ISBN: 9781480465015
Amazon: B00NQKYBCO
Publisher: Open Road Media Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Published: 2014-11-11T00:00:00+00:00

22

THE SOFTLIT GREY corridor was full of loud mournful organ music and it reeked of flowers. Taking two careful steps forward, the chromeplated robot in the black suit and grey gloves held out his hand. “Allow me to express our sympathy at your loss, Mr. Bascom,” he said in a polite whisper.

“What?” Richard frowned at the mechanical man. “I can’t hear you with that damned music booming.”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry.” He slid his lefthand glove partially off his sparkling metal wrist, pressed at the small control panel embedded there. “Perhaps the hymns are a bit loud.”

The music diminished in intensity.

“Which room is the funeral service in?” asked Richard, taking out a plyochief and rubbing at his nose.

“Go ahead and sob freely, sir. We find it—”

“I’m not sobbing. The smell of flowers makes me—”

“I’m terribly sorry, sir.” He tapped his wrist again and fresh air replaced the thick flowery scent. “Allow me, as I was saying, to welcome you to the Riverside Crematorium & Columbarium. In your hour of need, we feel we can serve you in—”

“Which room is my wife in?”

The darksuited robot touched gloved fingers briefly to his lips. “Allow me, if I may, to correct a possible misunderstanding, sir,” he said. “Your wife, the late Eve Scanlon Bascom—a lovely name, I might mention—your wife, sir, is not actually in Mourning Room 3.”

“Where the hell is she, then?”

Bowing his silvery head, the mechanism replied, “We’ve found, during years of faithful service, that it’s much better to do the actual cremating before any of the mourners arrive for the service. Some people react very—”

“What are you talking about? You mean her body has already been—”

“At seven-thirty AM this morning, sir.”

Richard grabbed hold of the robot’s arm. “Damn it, nobody told me about that.”

“Allow me to point out that you’re not actually paying for this service.” He pulled free. “Mrs. Bascom’s last rites are covered by the Larson-Dunn Employees Insurance & Burial Plan.”

“I still should’ve been told. Now I’ll never see her again or—”

“Not in this world, no. Yet many believe that—”

“Never mind. What room did you say?”

“Mourning Room 3,” answered the robot. “At the end of the corridor on your left, sir. You’ll find quite a crowd has already gathered.”

“A crowd?”

“At least a half dozen of your wife’s friends and colleagues, plus the standard fifteen android mourners, provided at no extra cost, by us.”

“When does the service start?”

“In exactly seven minutes, sir.”

Nodding, Richard walked stiffly along the hall and into the indicated room.

There was a small dais at the front of the small dim room. Resting on a low pedestal was a pewter urn, illuminated by a small overhead spot.

Sitting up in the front row were Andre Larson and a plump blonde woman Richard thought might be one of Rosco Dunn’s private secretaries.

“Good morning, Mr. Bascom.” Detective Busino, wearing a dark suit, was standing just inside the door.

“Why are you here?”

“Nothing official. I just like to attend the funerals of victims in my cases.”

“Are the police still investigating my wife’s

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