Tek Net

Tek Net Read Free Page A

Book: Tek Net Read Free
Author: William Shatner
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rose up. “Even so, Sid,” he said, “if we don’t find some trace of her within the next few hours—we have to bring them in.”
    â€œAgreed. Besides, once her hubby finds out she’s among the missing, he’ll more than likely do that himself.”
    â€œWhat about the Cosmos Agency?”
    â€œI want to talk to our esteemed chief, Walt Bascom, about this whole business mañana ,” said Gomez. “If one or more of the big Tek cartels are planning some new deviltry—then our jefe ought to be able to sell that news to some of his many government agency contacts.”
    â€œMy thought exactly,” said Jake.
    The night fog hung heavy over the two-acre stretch of simulated beach. Most of the sand was real, but the clusters of large black rocks and the scatters of seaweed and driftwood were all holographic projections.
    An actual seagull was dozing beside a twisted, seemingly sea-worn chunk of wood. He made an annoyed sound, unfurled and then refolded his wings, as Jake passed him on foot on his way to one of the entry kiosks to the underground Tube City.
    Kiosk 7 was manned by a pair of gunmetal guardbots. “Welcome to Tube City, sir,” greeted the one with A25 stenciled in white across his wide chest. “You are?”
    â€œJake Cardigan,” he answered. “I have an appointment with Mervyn Illsworth, who lives down on Level 5.”
    The second bot—F14 was his name—opened a panel in his metal chest. “While my colleague is taking you through the identification routine, sir,” he said, “let me show you some of the popular Tube City souvenirs that are available at extremely reasonable prices.”
    â€œActually, I’m trying,” Jake informed him, “to free my life of any and all clutter.”
    F14 had a fairly large shelved compartment built into his upper torso. “Here you see,” he announced, pointing into himself, “our very popular Tube City nearcaf mug, the equally popular Tube City cap, the Tube City plazshirt and—”
    â€œIf you’ll hand me your ID packet, sir,” requested A25.
    Jake obliged.
    â€œYou’ll notice,” went on F14, “that all our sought-after Tube City souvenirs have an appealing likeness of the famous Tube City mascot, Lowell the Mole, emblazoned on them.”
    â€œCute little rascal,” remarked Jake as he took back his identification materials. “Can I descend now?”
    Nodding, A25 gestured at the grey floor. “Take the ramp to Entry Tube 7, sir,” he instructed. “Then follow the litearrows down to Level 5. You’ll find Mr. Illsworth residing in Section 5-N.”
    A portion of the floor came sliding open and Jake saw a brightly illuminated ramp slanting downward. “Thanks.”
    â€œWe’re having a two-for-one sale on the mugs,” called F14 as Jake started down.
    Mervyn Illsworth was very fat. Seeing him magnified to twice his actual size up on the high, wide vidwall made his bulk all the more impressive. “I appreciate, truly, your going along with this little quirk of mine, Cardigan,” he was saying in his chirpy voice.
    Jake was straddling a chair in the foyer of the researcher’s underground apartment, after having made his way down through a succession of snaking tubes and tunnels. “I’m more interested in getting information than in seeing you face-to-face,” he informed the fat man’s image.
    â€œI’m not exactly, you must understand, really a complete and total recluse,” explained Illsworth. “Yet, I readily admit, I feel much more at ease if I remain here, snug in my studio, and visitors stay out there and we communicate electronically.” The fat man was sprawled in a large, sturdy metal chair surrounded by keyboards and monitor screens.
    â€œOkay, fine,” said Jake, impatient. “Now what about Jill Bernardino?”
    â€œI was, really,

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