Bypass Gemini

Chapter 13

“My card did have contact information on it. You didn’t have to come in person, you know,” said Patel, leading Lex back into the more hospitable portion of the complex as the pilot struggled come to terms with what was happening.

“Uh, yeah. So, did you make it to that meeting?” Lex said.

“That I most certainly did, thanks entirely to your skill in the chauffeur’s art. If you’d told me you were a freelance courier I likely would have more aggressively pursued your employment.”

“Who said I was a freelancer?”

“Mr. Alexander, you illustrated an almost supernatural talent behind the controls of a vehicle, then show up at my doorstep in a flight suit and smelling as though you haven’t bathed properly in three weeks. Those are the two hallmarks of the profession.”

“Hey! … It’s more like ... twelve days.”

“Pardon the overestimate. Now, what’s this I hear about you intruding upon the affairs of my clients?”

“Hey, listen, I just need to check those inverters. I didn’t-”

“Stick to piloting. Subterfuge and espionage are not among your skills. If you are checking up on a potential recall you have violated several dozen corporate and regulatory protocols. Now. My clients, the ones you’ve indicated in particular, expect a degree of discretion, and I do so aim to please. Thus, you are through prying. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Excellent. Generally I would be inclined to treat a breach of this sort far more severely, but the meeting you helped me to attend on time was the source of a truly remarkable amount of income, so I am willing to suspend punishment,” he remarked, approaching a panel on the wall and pressing a button, “Preethy? I will be in my office with a guest. Scotch and soda please.”

He turned and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, uh. Rum and coke.”

“And a rum and coke. I rather think a tube of the skin cream would be appreciated as well.”

“Yes sir,” came the voice of the receptionist.

The trip through the building had taken them from the concrete dungeon, back through a maze of flimsy walled cubicles, and finally through a frosted glass door to a hallway that would look at home in a museum. The walls were paneled with dark stained hardwood. The floor was polished marble. Lining the hall, each in its own lighted recess, were works of art. There were wood carvings, statues, metal sculptures, and paintings. Lex wasn’t an art buff, but some of them even he recognized. Judging from the quality, there was almost certainly a gifted forger involved. The real question was whether or not it was the museum that had the forgery.

“Open,” Nicholas said.

The door opened quietly into an office triple the size of Lex’s apartment.

“If you don’t mind, take a seat on the wooden chair. The usual guest chair is leather and I would rather not learn what sort of lingering character you might lend to it, judging from the state of your outfit,” the wealthy businessman said, indicating an antique chair at one corner of his desk.

“Don’t stink up the fancy chair. I gotcha,” Lex said, carefully sitting down on the antique. Chances were very good that if he broke it, he would have to sell everything he owned to pay for the replacement.

No sooner had he taken a seat than a second door opened to allow the young woman from the front desk to enter bearing a tray. The pleasing way that her immodest business suit had traced her shape while she was seated had been noticeable. Seeing what it did for her while she was in motion was downright impossible to ignore. At some point a voice in his head pointed out that it was not nice to stare. A louder voice from further south overruled it. It was downright criminal to give something with a sway like that anything less than your full attention. It wasn’t until his host spoke that he was jolted out of the decidedly primitive state of mind.