It was all over, he realized sickeningly. What other conclusion was there? Michelle was very likely in danger. There was no time for any more games of pretend heroics. He had stuck a toe into waters that he didn’t understand, and promptly gone in over his head. He stood on the corner of the street with his bag, looking first one way, then the other. He wasn’t even sure which direction the nearest police station was in.
Wearily, he pulled his mobile phone from his jacket pocket and first tried calling Neurodyne to let Kevin know what was happening, but there was no reply. He pressed the Reset button and called Emergency.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Phillip Garsten stood looking around his office in bewilderment. The screens were turned on, and a bug thing with a wire coming out of it was plugged into the computer. Another bug and a beer-can robot were up on the desk; there was a piece of cord hanging down over the edge from the lamp; and there was a carpenter’s tape and other junk all over the floor. . . . What in the name of God was going on?
He looked at the screen facing him, and his face darkened. It was showing entries from the Heber files. This was serious. He touched the smaller bug on the desk warily. It fell over. He nudged the larger one; it was just as inert. Of course, he told himself—they’d been controlled from the van, and the van was gone. All the same, he felt relieved.
What to do? His eyes darted around uncertainly while his mind worked. They had expected to find Heber’s technical chief, Corfe, because Vanessa said Corfe was using the van. Without a doubt, Lang hadn’t been working alone. Therefore, Corfe was still out there somewhere. Would he go to the police? Garsten didn’t know. But one sure thing was that if they came here and found all this going on, a lot of inconvenient questions would get asked. And with one thing leading to another, all kinds of complications were likely to develop that everyone could do without. Get rid of the evidence and deny everything, he decided. First leave everything clean; then consult with Martin and Vanessa.
He went through to his own office—there was no sign of anything amiss there—and returned with a large leather briefcase that he used for carrying legal files. Still handling them cautiously, he put the micromecs inside, added the other things from the floor and the cord that had been tied to the lamp, plugged the keyboard back into the computer, and shut down the system. Then he stood back to survey the room one last time.
“Son-of-a-gun,” he breathed. There were two more of them. One was wedged in the bracket of a wall lamp; the other was in the plant up on the file cabinet behind Susanne’s desk. How long had they been there, for God’s sake? Now he was getting really worried. He scooped them down and put them in the bag just as Royal came in from checking the outside of the building.
“There was a cover off a pipe at the back,” Royal announced. “I found these in it.” He opened his hand to show several more bug-size robots and a small plastic package. Garsten shook his head bemusedly and held open the bag. Royal’s eyebrows raised. “Was all this stuff in here?”
“We had a mechanical zoo loose.”
“Jeez!”
“Did you put the cover back on out there?”
Royal nodded. “Uh-huh. We’d better take a look at the inside as well.” He led the way back to where he thought the place was, but Garsten had guessed where he meant before they got there. The inside cover plate was off, and there was another beer-can standing motionless to add to the collection.
While Royal resecured the inside cover plate, Garsten called Vanessa at Microbotics to let her know the situation and to say he was on his way. He and Royal gave the place a final inspection but found nothing more. They turned out the lights, reset the alarms, and left.
“You shouldn’t have had them take her back to the firm, Vanessa. Now we’re all implicated. It’s a mess.” Payne was talking over the phone from the yacht on Lake Union. He sounded agitated. Typical, Vanessa thought, controlling herself with difficulty. The minute the going started getting rough. Welcome to the real world, Martin.