Ryan figured another set of double doors at the far end of the room had to open onto the busy main corridor of the wing. It took him only a moment to check that those doors were locked.
“Wait in here,” he said. “I’ll go back and recce who’s coming this way.”
Trader stepped inside, whistling at the stark cleanliness of the place. “Looks like it hasn’t been touched in a hundred years.”
Edna-Evangelina followed him, the heads swiveling separately, trying to take in what it was seeing.
“Been here before,” the dominant head said, fear making the voice ragged.
“Yes. Remember lights in the air and the pretty knives on the wall.”
“Sharp pretty knives,” the first head agreed.
“Quiet,” Ryan warned. “Whitecoats and sec men behind that other door.”
He went through the room with the washbasins and flattened himself against the wall by the entrance. He reached out with his left hand and very slowly turned the white plastic doorknob, squinting through the narrow gap into the corridor.
The sound of feet was much closer, with a strange tapping sound that reminded Ryan of the ferrule of Doc’s sword stick. But he couldn’t recognize the voices.
Then they suddenly came into sight, the slight figure of Ladrow Buford, limping on his cane, cloak hunched around his shoulders. With him were two of the sec men.
“In here, Buford,” Ryan whispered urgently.
He closed the door and moved to stand behind it. It was flung open and the two guards charged in, Buford at their heels. Neither of them spotted Ryan hidden by the open door. Keeping all three men covered with the automatic blaster, he heeled it shut, the noise making them turn.
“Morning,” Ryan said. He gestured with the SIG-Sauer as he saw one of the sec men make a threatening move with the Mossberg that he held. “Best put those big shiny blasters down on the floor, slow and careful. Good.”
“Cawdor! It’s really you.” Buford’s glasses nearly fell off his narrow, beaky nose, he was shaking so much. “How can you be alive?”
“Easy. Live a good clean life, go to bed early and get up with the sun.”
“But, is Thea with you?”
“No. Thea met with an accident.”
“The rest of the patrol?”
“Trader’s with me. Rest of the sec men sort of headed for the exit, pursued by a bear.”
Buford swallowed, his prominent Adam’s apple nearly choking him. “We didn’t know.”
“Sure.” Ryan grinned. “How’s everyone?”
“They’re fine.” A glint of hope shone in the scientist’s watery eyes. “No need for the blaster, Cawdor. You come along with us, and you can meet your friends.”
“Sounds good.” Ryan waved the blaster at the sec men. “Stand still awhile. Movement makes me nervous, and when I get nervous my fingers become sort of tense.”
Ladrow Buford was sweating so much that Ryan could see clear beads trickling down the inside of the smeared lenses of his glasses. “Is there just you and Trader here? You haven’t met with anyone else?”
Ryan could almost taste the whitecoat’s fear. “We met a patrol. Tried to take us in. We chilled them all.”
“Oh, no!”
“And then we broke in and met two more of your guards.”
“Where?”
Trader had appeared unseen in the doorway behind the three men. “By your freaks’ prison.”
Buford spun. “Freaks! Prison! What in the name of science are you talking about?”
“Go through into the operating room,” Ryan said, “and we’ll talk a little more.”
One of the sec men spoke for the first time. “What happened to the two guards by the” be hesitated for a long moment, “by the quarters for the unsuccessful experiments? You bastards chill them also?”
Trader smiled at him. “You can bet mother’s tits to a crock of shit that we did.”
Buford turned to babble desperately to Ryan. “I don’t know what you heard or saw, but it’s all a total lie. We never did anyone no harm.”
“Any harm,” Ryan corrected.
“Right. Not never any harm. And we wouldn’t have hurt you or your companions. Never hurt a fly.”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Once again, in perfect unison, the words floated from both Edna and Evangelina.