“Just see to it that I get a proper laboratory.”
“That won’t be necessary. All that was needed was proof of concept. The client will take it from here.”
“What are you talking about? This is my life’s work. The client needs me to complete it, and I need a real lab.”
“The client disagrees.”
Tuck reached beneath his leather jacket and took out a mag-rez pistol. He fired two quick shots before Trenchard could grasp what was happening.
Trenchard was dead before he hit the floor.
Tuck holstered the pistol and went to work cleaning up the scene. Bodies were easy to get rid of if you had access to a hole-in-the-wall. Fortunately, cracks in the green quartz maze of the Underworld were fairly common. There was one in the basement of the warehouse. He had made sure of it before he set up the lab. He had known from the start that it would be necessary.
He wasn’t concerned with the tools and workbenches—the local scavengers would make them vanish—but he needed to secure the empty canister and Trenchard’s notebooks. He collected everything that might constitute a clue to the work that had been done in the warehouse, carried it outside, and stowed it in the back of his vehicle.
When he was satisfied, he slung Trenchard’s body over his shoulder and carried it down the old concrete steps into the basement. Green energy seeped around the cracks in the downstairs door.
He opened the door, went through the large, jagged crack in the green quartz wall, and paused to set his locator. When he was sure he would be able to find his way back to the entry point, he strolled a short distance along a glowing corridor. He chose one of the many chambers at random and dumped the body inside. He checked the locator to backtrack to the opening.
The only way the corpse would ever be found was if someone stumbled into the room by accident. It was possible but unlikely. In time, via a process the scientists did not yet understand, most of the biological materials would break down and be absorbed through the stone and disappear. The only things left would be the bones, some clothes, plastics, and metals. The paranormal energy that flooded the tunnels kept the vast maze free of the dead.
He went back upstairs and took one more look around. He was a thorough man, and this had been his assignment from start to finish. He had a reputation to maintain.
Satisfied, he went out into the fog, got behind the wheel, and drove away from the warehouse. Time to deliver the prototype to the client. The suppressor was an incredible invention. It could jam resonating amber. Once it was perfected and access to the liquid crystal pool was assured, the device would be the ultimate weapon on a world that was totally reliant on tuned amber.
Trenchard had found a way to harness the power of the liquid crystal. He had done the basic research and had produced a working prototype. He was no longer needed. From now on it was just a matter of scale. That was merely a straightforward engineering issue, according to the client.
Last night the prototype had shut down the Amber Zone Strip. Soon the client would control the technology that could deactivate anything from a flamer or a mag-rez pistol to an entire city.
The farsighted client had realized that a first-class security team would be required. Blue Amber had been created to serve that purpose. Only the most powerful ex-Guild men had been recruited.
He was finally working for someone who appreciated his talent and his determination.
Fuck the Guilds. They had screwed him and the others. Soon his team would be armed with weapons that rendered flamers and mag-rez pistols useless. They would control the city-states and the Underworld.
Blue Amber was going to become more powerful than all the Guilds combined.
And he was the head of Blue Amber.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Lucy’s doorbell chimed just as she rezzed the coffee maker. She went down the hall to answer it. Gabriel appeared from the bedroom. He was fastening a fresh khaki shirt he had found in his duffel bag. His hair was still damp from the shower.
“Who’s that?” he asked.
“Probably my friend Veronica. She lives down the hall.”
Gabriel frowned. “It’s a little early for a neighbor to drop in, isn’t it?”
“Don’t be so suspicious. Illusion Town is like the Guild. It operates around the clock. Veronica works nights at a club. She gets home about this time every morning.”
Otis scampered out of the kitchen, where he had been supervising breakfast preparations. He chortled in anticipation of greeting the morning visitor.
Lucy glanced down at him. “See? No need to worry. Otis knows who’s out there.”