The Good That Men Do - Andy Mangels [33]
Ehrehin stopped short, recalling in a sudden wash of grief that Cunaehr would never answer him again. If that really was Cunaehr I saw with his head smashed in back at the lab on Unroth, he thought.
He raised a withered hand to a throbbing temple. Why was everything becoming so damned confusing?
Ehrehin was startled out of his musings by a noise that seemed to come from the still dimly lit hallway in front of him. A footfall?
Breakfast, perhaps, he thought, suddenly eager to get on with his normal activities.
He crossed the room quietly and entered the plushly carpeted hallway.
And realized with a start that a pair of large, dark-clad figures stood in his way. Behind them an indistinct figure lay slumped between the carpeted hallway and the tile floor of one of the villa’s kitchens.
Ehrehin scowled as he looked over each of the men. “You’re not Cunaehr,” he said finally, addressing them both. “Have you come to bring my breakfast?” It was only then that he noticed that neither man carried a tray, cups, or any other food-related accoutrements.
The man on the left raised a dark, blunt shape that Ehrehin recognized as a military-issue disruptor pistol, after spending a brief beat puzzling over it. The other man carried one as well.
“Are you my new bodyguard detachment?” Ehrehin said.
“Yes,” said the man on the right after an awkward pause. “Yes, we are.”
Ehrehin took a cautious step backward, but froze when the man on the left brandished his weapon in a menacing fashion.
“Get dressed quickly and quietly, Doctor,” he said. “You are coming with us.”
When Subcommander D’tran entered Valdore’s office, the admiral presumed that he had come to convey the next in D’tran’s series of dierha-by-dierha intelligence updates. Then Valdore spared a quick glance at the wall chronometer that overlooked the desk behind which he had spent so much of his working life. The admiral saw at once that the other man had actually turned up nearly a quarter-dierha early.
And from the look on the middle-aged subcommander’s pale, lined face, he had come bearing tidings that he wasn’t eager to impart.
“Report, Subcommander,” Valdore snapped, having no patience with such stalling. “Just tell me what’s gone wrong.”
D’tran took a deep breath. “It’s Doctor Ehrehin, Admiral. We have… lost him, sir.”
Valdore instantly could see every tactical timetable that he had constructed since his release from imprisonment crashing like an incoming meteor. He rose to his feet, pushing his desk chair toward the weapons-lined wall several long paces behind him. He leaned forward across the desktop, planting both of his muscular arms on the sherawood surface to support himself. “Do you mean to tell me the doctor has died, Subcommander?”
Somehow, the cowering subcommander avoided taking a step backward. “No, sir. At least, not that we can determine for certain. But I have just confirmed that Ehrehin has been taken from his secure compound, apparently by members of a Romulan dissident group. We are not entirely certain as yet which group is responsible, since no one has spoken up to take ‘credit’ for this crime.”
Evidently it was an unusually competent dissident group, Valdore thought as he released a frustrated sigh. Who knew how far this could set back the development schedule for the new stardrive?
Aloud, he said, “Get me the officers directly responsible for safeguarding Doctor Ehrehin. And see to it that his captors are tracked down. Spare absolutely no effort, Subcommander.”
“At once,” said D’tran, who appeared more than eager to leave Valdore’s presence and set about his urgent tasks. “May I take my leave of you, sir?”
Another thought suddenly occurred to Valdore. “Wait,” he said, and paused just long enough to let the subcommander realize that another order was forthcoming. “What is the status of the Aenar slaves the Adigeons are brokering for us?”
D’tran regarded him with a somewhat curious expression. “Still en route to our intermediaries on Adigeon Prime, sir.”
“But still no firm estimated time of arrival?” This was another matter