Wilson Tucker by Wild Talent

Author:Wild Talent
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-05-23T04:48:35+00:00

Ten

Peter Conklin was struck dumb.

He gulped down the bourbon without really tasting it and held himself still, enveloped with shock, his hand enfolding the empty glass. A thinner glass would have been crushed under the brutal pressure. While his eyes seemed to be staring at Paul, they weren't seeing him, weren't seeing the room; instead they were looking at something else far away and beyond immediate comprehension. Something halfway around the world.

In all the years Paul had known Conklin, this was the first time he has seen the agent lose his mental equilibrium, had witnessed a fall from character. Since that initial meeting in the captain's office nearly four years before, Conklin had always been the cool and self-possessed operative who cloaked his identity and his profession behind a poker face. Of late, the face was tempered with laughter and friendliness, with camaraderie and amity, but it remained constantly in original character. Until now.

"I—won't?" he asked uselessly.

Paul shook his head, mute.

"Oh, hell!" Conklin said again. He struggled to express his emotions, and managed, "I feel sort of pushed in."

"I'm not happy about it," Paul offered.

Conklin looked down at the glass in his hand and swished the tiny amount of liquor remaining in the bottom. The few drops raced around the glass. "I guess the honeymoon is over; I have to go back to work. It's been nice."

"Honeymoon," Paul repeated with a humorless grin. "Those are almost the words Slater used when he read Dr. Roy's report on me. Carnell didn't have the nerve to repeat them, but he was told to tell me, 'Tell that son of a bitch the honeymoon is over. He goes to work for us — or else.'"

"Carnell is delicate about such matters." Conklin looked up at Paul. "Or else?"

"Slater didn't elaborate. Maybe he meant the salt mines."

"Go easy, Paul. Watch your step. He can make it tough for you."

"Not half as tough as I can make it for him," Paul retorted flatly. "Not half. Carnell was partially upset because I wouldn't confirm a part of Roy's report. Roy had made some brilliant deductions in the field of telekinesis, and they wanted to know if the doctor was right or wrong. I gave them no satisfaction."

"They'll keep prying."

"Slater will make me mad someday and find out the sudden way. I owe him a lot of nastiness."

Conklin walked over to the window, sat down and put his heels up on the window sill. Paul moved another chair beside him and set the liquor bottle between them. The winter sky was dark with leaden clouds, threatening rain or snow. After a reflective silence, Conklin spoke.

"So I won't be seeing you again?"

"Not after you leave here—no."

"Well! We've come a long way together. And I think I've enjoyed every minute of it, despite some rather stiff jolts back there at the beginning. Is there" — he hesitated— "no chance?"

"None. Slater does not intend to let us see each other again."

Conklin moved his head away from the window to lock glances with him, a direct question in his eyes.

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