Doctor Who_ Match of the Day - Chris Boucher [83]
Neither structural logic nor personal experience therefore offered a clue to the precise location of the fabled inheritress of the greatest dynastic fortune yet generated by Western-zone industry. Had Keefer known this when he stepped off the elevator platform he would probably have tackled the problem differently. As it was, he decided to search the ship methodically. No one had any idea yet that he was on board and when they found the body they would still know less about what was happening than he did. He reasoned that they had the advantage of home ground but all the other edges were his.
He moved down the companionway in front of him towards what looked like a recreational or maybe an eating area.
Given the size of the hakai-warrior he had faced it seemed likely that food and recreation would be closely linked. Fat Boys didn‟t get to be that size without seriously dedicated feeding and you didn‟t do that unless you enjoyed it. So the chances were that some of them would be at it whatever the hour. He paused and looked for a way round but there didn‟t seem to be one. He checked and cocked the gun and ghosted forward. When he was close enough for the sight lines to be unobstructed he saw there were indeed two of the elite bodyguards squatting on narrow stools, their powerful legs crossed and their shaved heads bent over bowls of steaming food. On straw mats in front of them there were piles of pale vegetables and large bowls of freshly cooked lecea seed and hot pancakes. The cost of just getting what they were eating to where they were eating it would have kept a family of six for ten years back home, Keefer reckoned, and he couldn‟t even guess at the basic price of the lecea and the flour and all the rest of the raw materials. The woman was rich enough certainly. She could have had that android modified and sent to kill him. Gods in a gun-ship, she could afford to have sent more than one. Her mistake was not to. She had underestimated him. It was a mistake he intended to make her regret.
Keeping his movements casual and relaxed and taking care not to look directly at the two huge men, Keefer strolled across the mess to the companionway on the other side. The gun was still cocked and ready but neither of the Fat Boys paid any attention to him. When he operated the access door and ducked through the dilating iris his ears and nose told him without the need to glance back that the hakai-warriors were still concerned only with their food.
As the seal whispered closed behind him Reefer‟s focus was already on the corridor ahead and the second set of continuous elevators at the far end. He lowered the hammer on the pistol and then re-cocked it. The platforms appeared to be moving faster than the last lot and there was no way of telling who or what might come plunging out in response to his unauthorised presence.
„I‟m impressed,‟ the pilot said, the proximity speaker making it sound as though he was right beside Leela in the sleep harness. „Takes most people much longer to adapt to pseudo-grav. I can‟t sleep the way you do. I‟ve got to be honest it makes me feel distinctly queasy as soon as I close my eyes. I get the full whirling pits. Not a pleasant sensation. Especially when you haven‟t been drinking. So what‟s your secret then?
Clean living and a clear conscience?‟ He chortled. „If it is, it‟s too high a price to pay.‟
Her secret, Leela thought, was that she knew he was watching her; not all the time but she did not know when exactly so she had to assume it was all the time; and she was determined not to let him see that this pseudo-grav was making her feel more giddy and sick than weightlessness had done. She wanted him to think that she was strong and healthy and had no problem coping. If he believed that completely then it would be easier for him to accept it when she faked her accident and injury, or her illness, she had not yet decided which it should