Their first stop was the message center, more out of optimism than genuine hope. There was still nothing for Taj, but to his amazement Jerry found a message for him from Elaine Haverford.
Their second stop was the line at a pay phone. After twenty minutes, Jerry paid a scalper twenty dollars to use a cell phone that had been hacked to have a fire marshall’s priority so its calls would get through.
Dr. Haverford answered on the second ring. “Oh yes, Mr. Andrews, I did see Taj last night. He was at the chili cookoff. Were you there?”
“Ah, we were having a hot time of our own,” Jerry told her. “Did you talk to him?”
“Only for a minute. He placed second in the relativistic Tetris competition, you know, and he didn’t have much time. But I did find he’s staying with the people from, ah, Bizzareware at the Paladin.”
Shit! Jerry thought, right where we started. “The Paladin? Okay, thanks, Dr. Haverford. We’ll get in touch with him right away and set up a meeting with your folks later. Thanks again.”
“We gotta do something nice for that company,” Jerry said as he handed the phone back to the scalper.
“What now?” Bal-Simba asked. “I believe you told me that everyone is at the show all day and unreachable at their lodgings until evening.”
“Most people are,” Jerry corrected. “But it’s barely ten. If I know Taj he’s still asleep, especially after a relativistic Tetris tournament. So let’s pick up the truck, head for the Paladin and set up a meet.”
“Why not call him from here?”
“Because,” Jerry said grimly. “If he doesn’t agree to meet us, we’re going to waylay him in the lobby and kidnap him. I don’t want to take a chance on waking him up and letting him get away before we get there.”
It took nearly fifteen rings for someone to answer the phone in the Bizarreware suite at the Paladin. All the while Jerry fidgeted and Bal-Simba merely waited.
“Hello,” came a muzzy voice at the other end of the line.
“Is Taj there?’
“This is Taj. Whaddya want?”
“My name is Jerry Andrews, jerry@thekeep.org, and I’ve got to see you right away.”
“Hey, it’s not even noon yet.”
“I know, but this is important.”
Taj’s voice hardened. “And you’ll only take five minutes of my time, right?”
“Actually,” Jerry said, “it’ll probably take a couple of weeks of your time, but you’ll hate yourself if you don’t meet me.”
The voice sighed. “Well, that’s original anyway. Okay, I’ll tell you what. Let me get a shower and some breakfast and I’ll meet you in the lobby, by the bird cage, say, in an hour. Okay?”
“Fine. We’ll be there.”
THIRTEEN – MAKING A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL
“It has been longer than an hour, has it not?” Bal-Simba asked nearly two hours later.
“Yeah, but don’t worry. If he said he was coming, he’s coming. Probably. It’s just that time doesn’t mean the same thing to him it does to you or me.” Bal-Simba nodded. “Elven blood.” Jerry didn’t have a chance to respond before someone called out “Mr. Andrews?” and Jerry turned to see the object of their quest.
Seeing him once again Jerry appreciated how he got the nickname Tajmanian Devil.”
E.T. Tajikawa was rather over six feet tall and loose-limbed without being gangly. But it was the face that got you. It was thin, with an unusually aquiline nose, high cheekbones, narrow lips and topped by a pronounced widow’s peak of black hair. The only thing that kept him from looking positively satanic was the perpetual expression of bemused interest. “Jerry; please. And this is Bal-Simba.” “Cool.” Taj shook hands. “Now what’s this big deal?” “Come on out back Part of the problems in a truck.” “What are you guys gonna do, kidnap me?” “Only if we must,” Bal-Simba said mildly. “No, no,” Jerry put in hastily. “Nothing like that, but there’s something out there you gotta see.”
Taj eyed them suspiciously. “Prototype hardware?” “Kinda. Ah, look, have you heard anything about a dragon at the show?”
“Is that you? I’ll say! You guys are causing more of a stir than anything on the show floor. Even Intel’s pre-announcement leak of the Octium-and-a-half.”