Chapter Thirteen

Dorn Horsten was awakened in the morning by Boy licking his face.

He sat up abruptly, sputtering.

“What… what… ”

Boy said, “The Boss is gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?” Dorn blurted, still half asleep.

“He’s not in his suite.”

Dorn Horsten reached over to the night table and got his glasses and put them on and then stared at the dog. “Well, where did he go?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t there. Rosemary doesn’t like dogs watching when she’s making love. I slept in the living room on the couch.”

Dorn shook his head in an effort to drive the remains of sleep away. “Is she gone, too? Maybe they took a walk, or something.” He was speaking in whispers, so as not to awaken the redhead on the pillow beside him.

“She’s still there, sleeping like a log. She didn’t even wake up when I licked her.”

The Section G agent swung his feet over the side of the bed. Barbara, his bedmate, continued to sleep on, in spite of the talk. No wonder. They’d had quite a siege of it the night before. The woman had seemed insatiable. He reached over for his trousers and struggled into them, then, without even shoes, headed for the door. “Come along,” he said to the dog.

They entered Ronny’s suite without knocking. Rosemary was still stretched out, nude, on the bed.

Among other degrees, Dorn Horsten held an M.D. He stared down at her for a moment, then reached out and with his fingers opened one of her eyes.

“Drugged,” he muttered. He slapped her face back and forth for a moment.

Finally, she awakened, looking groggy. “Whaz amatter?”

Dorn said urgently, “Where’s Ronny?”

She vaguely looked over at the pillow next to hers. It was, of course, empty.

“Why… why, I don’t know.”

“He’s not here,” Dorn said urgently, “and you’ve been drugged.”

“Drugged!” Suddenly, she was more alert. Her eyes went about the room searchingly. “But… that’s impossible.”

He looked around too. “How could it have been administered? I ate everything and drank everything that you two did, and I haven’t been drugged.”

She shook her head. “I simply don’t know.”

“Did you two eat or drink anything, after you left the rest of us?”

“No. No, of course not.”

The dog looked at her strangely, but didn’t say anything. He also looked about the room. There was no sign of the bottle of champagne and the two glasses.

“Come on,” Dorn said to him. “Let’s search the rest of the house.”

They went through every room of the underground building, finding exactly nothing and finally winding up in the patio’s center.

“Maybe he went for a walk,” the big man said, knowing full well that was nonsense.

“And maybe he didn’t,” the dog growled. “She’s lying. Either that, or she’s so dopey she’s forgotten.”

Dorn glowered at him. “What in the name of the Holy Ultimate are you talking about?”

Boy said, “Last night, she came into the room with a bottle of wine and two glasses in way of a nightcap. Then she objected to my sticking around, so I left. The bottle and the glasses aren’t there now.”

Dorn muttered something and returned to his own suite. Barbara was still in the bed, out like a light. He wondered if she, too, was drugged, but doubted it; her breathing sounded perfectly normal. He got into the rest of his clothes and his shoes and headed for the living room, Boy trailing after.

He sat at the center table and brought forth his communicator and propped it up before him and activated it. Irene Kasansky’s face faded in, looking harassed, as usual.

Dorn said, “Is the Old Man available?”

“No. He’s gone over to London for some sort of confab. What’s up?”

“How about Sid Jakes?”

“He’s in conference. What’s wrong?”

“Get him out of conference. Ronny’s been nabbed.”

Her eyes widened. “What the Holy Ultimate are you talking about? The assignment you’re on is a milk run. What could possibly go wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Dorn said emptily.

She flicked a switch, and shortly Sid Jake’s face beamed out at him from the small phone screen of the communicator.

“Dorn!” he said happily. “How’s it going? Having a good time? I envy you field men. I haven’t had a vacation since… ”

Dorn Horsten interrupted him. “Something’s developed here that doesn’t make sense. We’ve only been here two days but the night before last, I caught two men searching my luggage. They got away. Last night, Ronny disappeared. His bedmate was drugged and he’s simply gone.”

“Bedmate?” Sid Jakes chortled. “You’ve been there only two days and already he’s sleeping with some mopsy? Ronny’s a fast operator.”

“I’ve got one too,” Dorn growled. “But the thing is this. Remember that Count Felix Fitzjames, the top scientist from Phrygia? Well, when he disappeared before we could brainwash him, he didn’t exactly disappear. He came here to Einstein and they took him in. He told them all he knew about the Dawnworlds, and he probably knew as much about them as anybody did, including Ronny. There was only one thing he couldn’t tell them. Where they’re located. Nobody living knows that… except Ronny.”

For once, Sid Jakes’ face was less than happy. He said, “Oh, wizard. I can see it coming.”

“Yes. Somebody on this brainworld has got hold of Ronny and it’s only a matter of time before they put him under Scop or some other truth serum, and he tells them where the Dawnmen are.”

“Why should they care?”

“How would I know?”

Sid Jakes closed his eyes in pain. “Otherwise, how are they, there on Einstein?”

“Very advanced, very reasonable, in an off-beat sort of way. I can’t see any reason for keeping them out of the United Planets, or any way of doing it when it’s put to a vote among the member worlds.”

Sid Jakes opened his eyes and said, “Find him. Find Ronny, Horsten. Find him before they get the secret from him.”

“How?” Dorn Horsten said plaintively.

“How would I know? You’re there, I’m not. But whoever has nabbed Ronny, as you put it, can’t be allowed to have the information about the location of the Dawnmen. Take whatever steps necessary. You’re a trouble shooter. Start shooting.”

“And if I have to take rugged ones, tough steps? Section G backs me to the hilt?”

“Don’t be silly,” Sid Jakes snorted. “If your methods get too rugged, we won’t even admit knowing you exist.” His face faded, glowing a sardonic grin.

Dorn Horsten closed his own eyes in mute agony.

He opened them and looked at Boy. He said, “I haven’t been out of this house since we came to Einstein. How in the name of the Holy Ultimate am I supposed to find Ronny Bronston?”

The dog hung his tongue out of his mouth and for three quick pants, wagged his bobbed tail twice and said, “What do you think I’ve got this nose for?”

“Nose?”

“Nose.”

“How do you mean?”

The dog had been stretched out on the floor. Now he arose. “Come along,” he said. “We’ll trail the Boss.”

Dorn Horsten hesitantly followed him. All his inclinations were to get into immediate touch with Fredric and the other members of the committee. On the face of it, they couldn’t be part of the conspiracy. Had they wanted to question Ronny about the location of the Dawnworlds they wouldn’t have had to abduct him. They could have taken him, there at the spaceport, and injected him with the truth serum, Scop, then and there. Besides, after the day-long conversations they’d had, he couldn’t believe the six committee members could be Machiavellian. However, how had Ronny put it? High intelligence was no guarantee of integrity.

He followed the Vizsla back to the door of Ronny’s suite and the dog scurried around the room sniffing. Then he hung his tongue out several inches, turned and trotted toward the patio, then the entry to the underground house, his nose near the ground.

“They went this way,” he said.

“Who’s they?” Dorn said, hurrying to keep up.

“Two men and the Boss. I think they’re carrying him. I got the scent of all three of them at the door, but now only the two strangers. I’m trailing them.”

They went through the entry and emerged into the golf course-like countryside.

Dorn said, in disgust, “By this time, they’ll be miles from here.”

The dog, still sniffing along, said, “No, they won’t. They won’t be far at all. The Boss isn’t very big but he’s still big enough that they won’t be figuring on carrying him very far.”

“Surely they’ve got a vehicle.”

“I doubt it. On Einstein, all cars are automated. The computers know, at any given time, the location of every one on the planet. If they had a car and it picked them up at this point, then all we’d have to do is check with the computers and they’d let us know where it went. So they can’t afford to use a car. Besides, I can still get their scent. They went this way.”

He set off at a fairly good clip and Dorn had to trot to keep up.

The dog panted, “When we catch them, you’re going to have to do the dirty work. I’m conditioned, programmed not to attack any inhabitant of Einstein.”

“It’ll be a pleasure,” the big man said grimly. “Is there any chance they’re armed? On a romp like this, they probably would be.”

“No,” the dog said. “There are no arms on Einstein. I’ve read about them, but I’ve never seen a gun.”

Twice they passed over narrow roads of the type utilized by hover-craft and once Dorn discerned the entry to one of the underground houses.

They hadn’t come more than half a kilometer before Boy said, “I think this is it.” He darted around a small hill, followed by the big scientist at a trot. There was an entry there.

“This is it, all right,” Boy panted. “Here’s where you take over, Doc.”

They pounded through the entry and into a patio beyond. It was fairly similar to that of Rosemary, but there was one notable difference. The windows were decoratively covered with wrought iron bars.

A voice shouted, “Halt.” Dorn spun to confront the voice. Two young men were racing toward him.

They were huskies, though not in Dorn Horsten’s category. He slipped his glasses from his nose and into a side pocket and reached out and grabbed just as they were about to dash into him.

With deceptive speed he banged their heads together. They both reeled for a dazed moment, then fell.

“Holy smokes,” the dog said in admiration. “Some Doc you turned out to be.”

They hurried over to the main door. It was locked.

“They took him through here,” Boy said, his tongue hanging out again, his stubby tail wagging in appreciation of the excitement.

It was a heavy door, studded with wrought iron, in keeping with the rest of the patio’s decor. Dorn hesitated not for a moment. He hit it crushingly with the butt of his right hand and it crashed inward, the hinges screeching protest as they ripped from the wall.

Dorn darted through, counting on surprise if there were any others inside. He trusted the dog, but couldn’t be sure about the presence of weapons in the hands of the enemy. Even though such were not manufactured on Einstein, it was always possible to import them secretly.

The door opened up onto a large living room and there were two more men seated there. Their eyes boggled when the oversized Dorn Horsten came charging in, followed by Boy.

“These are the two that had the Boss,” the dog said.

They immediately scrambled to their feet to meet the big scientist’s attack. They might have saved themselves the trouble. He hit each one exactly once and though he had pulled his punches, both went down as though struck by lightning.

Boy was running around sniffing. “The boss is over this way, I think,” he said excitedly, heading for a door at the far end of the room. Dorn followed.

The door wasn’t locked and they went through it in orthodox fashion. It was a bedroom and Ronny was stretched out on the bed, fully clothed, including’ shoes.

Dorn skidded to a halt. He didn’t like how his colleague looked.

“How are you?” he demanded.

Ronny said slowly, his eyes focusing poorly, “I’m… under… scop.”

“Holy Ultimate,” Dorn said in protest. “You shouldn’t give truth serum to a drugged man. Have they questioned you yet?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell them the location of the Dawnworlds?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, wizard,” the big man said, his shoulders slumping. “Now the fat’s in the fire.”

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