Deadman Switch Read Free Page A

their interest in me; equally clear was the fact that he intended to draw out their uncertainties as far as he could. “May I say, first of all, that I appreciate your getting all the accommodations trivia out of the way—it certainly made life easier for my aides.” He waved vaguely in my direction; like magic, both sets of eyes shifted to me. The gesture shifted smoothly, Randon’s hand ending up pointing at the computer sitting on the table. “You’ve brought me copies of your records?”
    â€œUh, yes, sir,” Aikman said, shifting gears with visible effort, his attention lingering on me for a second after his eyes had gone back to Randon. Standard business etiquette said that entourages like me were to be ignored in direct address until and unless they were formally introduced, and Randon’s deliberate failure to do so was beginning to irritate him. “I thought we could take a few minutes to go through them now, if you’re willing.”
    â€œYou have all HTI’s records here?” Randon asked.
    â€œOh, no—just those involving shipment through Whitecliff,” Aikman said. “The complete records are of course kept only in the Solitaire office.”
    â€œAh,” Randon nodded. “Well, then, I think I’ll pass. Not much sense in spending time studying one corner of the painting when I’ll get to see the whole thing in a couple of days, is there?”
    A flicker of surprise touched both men, followed immediately by annoyance in different degrees. I gathered the local HTI office had gone to some effort to gather the records into easily digested form, and Aikman in particular was clearly put out at Randon’s casual dismissal of all that work. “As you wish, Mr. Kelsey-Ramos,” he said, managing to keep his voice civil. “In that case—”
    â€œWhat I’d rather do,” Randon interrupted him, “is see what kind of night life Whitecliff has. I presume it does have some?”
    Another flicker of surprise. DeMont recovered first. “Oh, certainly,” he said. “Nothing like what you’re used to on Portslava, I don’t suppose, but enjoyable in its own way. Here in Alabaster City, particularly, we have a wide mix of different entertainments.”
    â€œYes, port cities tend to be that way,” Randon nodded. “Though I certainly wouldn’t like to think I’m too much of a snob to enjoy something new. You’ll both be my guests, of course?”
    Aikman and DeMont exchanged glances. Clearly, Randon wasn’t fitting into their expectations, and they weren’t entirely sure how to handle him. “We’d be honored to serve as your guides, Mr. Kelsey-Ramos,” Aikman said diplomatically.
    â€œExcellent,” Randon said with a smile. “I’ll have to bring a couple of my shields along, too, of course. Company policy, I’m afraid.”
    â€œUnderstandable,” Aikman nodded. “Well, then, whenever you’re ready—”
    â€œOh, and Mr. Benedar will be coming, too,” Randon said blandly, gesturing a hand toward me. “I’m sorry; I’ve been remiss, haven’t I? Mr. Aikman, Dr. DeMont—Gilead Raca Benedar.”
    It was a game on Randon’s part, of course—nothing more or less than a way to suddenly spring my name and Watcher status on them and force a reaction. Certainly he had no interest in trying to carouse through Alabaster City’s night life with someone he considered a religious fanatic hovering disdainfully in the background. My own interest in playing that role was equally microscopic.
    But Aikman and DeMont didn’t know that. “Mr. Benedar,” Aikman said in acknowledgment, his formal stiffness turning abruptly rigid. “Mr. Kelsey-Ramos … with due respect for your position, I’d like to suggest that it would be best if your associate remains behind.”
    â€œOh?”