TekWar 02 TekLords by William Shatner

Author:William Shatner [Shatner, William]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781453286784
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

22

TWO ANDROIDS, THREE ROBOTS and a human were standing around something on the floor of the large grey room.

The human, a fat man with shortcropped blond hair and a bright pink face, stepped clear of the group to frown at Jake as he was escorted in. “What do you know about this, Cardigan?”

A darkhaired female andy and a chromeplated robot moved aside so that Jake could get a look at what they’d been circling. It turned out to be an opaque plastiglass coffin, the lid off and leaning against it. The coffin was empty.

Jake rubbed his thumb knuckle across his chin. “Is this where Chesterton was supposed to be reposing?”

“It is,” said the fat man. “Would you have any idea where he is?”

Grinning, Jake replied, “Seems to me you folks are in a better position to answer that than I am.”

“I’m Deputy Warden Silverman,” the fat man said. “I was here while you were serving your sentence, Cardigan.”

“We didn’t meet at the time.” He tapped the empty coffin with the toe of his boot. “I came up here to the Freezer—not a favorite spot of mine—specifically to talk to Chesterton. If I’d known in advance he was missing, I’d have spared myself the trip.”

“He’s not necessarily missing,” said the deputy warden.

“It’s possible,” suggested the darkhaired female android, “that he’s simply been misfiled.”

“How often has that happened?”

“Never, but it remains a possibility.”

Jake eyed the fat warden. “I’ve never heard of anybody escaping from up here.”

“That would be impossible, since all our prisoners are kept in a state of suspended animation,” said Silverman. “We also have a very efficient security system, no one could’ve broken in from outside and sprung him.”

Jake nodded at the empty box. “How often do you check the coffins?”

“We prefer to call them resting cells.”

“How often?”

The darkhaired android answered, “Every cell is constantly monitored electronically, Mr. Cardigan.”

“But do you ever actually look inside them?”

“In the case of long-term prisoners such as Dr. Chesterton, we do that once every six months.”

“When was the last check made?”

“Four and a half months ago.”

“And he was there then?”

“If he hadn’t been, the inspector for that tier of the penal colony would have reported it.”

Jake kicked at the coffin again. “Why didn’t your monitoring gear notice he wasn’t inside here?”

“We’re investigating that,” said Silverman.

“Tampering,” said one of the robots.

“How’s that?” asked the deputy warden.

“A report’s just coming in.” The robot tapped his temple. “The monitoring equipment connected to the resting cell of Prisoner #18,977 has had a Diverter Box attached to it.”

“Feeding in fake information,” observed Jake, “for the last four or five months.”

“This is extremely serious.” Deputy Warden Silverman frowned deeply. “It’s starting to sound as though this prisoner has been smuggled out of here. Something that has never happened before.”

“As far as you know it’s never happened before.”

“We won’t be needing you any longer,” Silverman told him. “Should we determine the current whereabouts of Gordon Chesterton—”

“Or his remains.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Several people who were associated with Chesterton down on Earth have died lately,” Jake said.

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