Jack Chalker - Cerberus - A Wolf in the Fold

Bogen, although coming from the space station, would probably arrive before or at least at the same time as I did, assuming he left right after sending his reply. In point of fact, his “ninety minutes” was unrealistic for me to make, short of flying over, which security really wasn’t prepared for. Even at top speed of something around seventy kilometers an hour, the boat would take almost ninety minutes just to reach the island, and we’d had a half-hour delay in starting. That was just fine with me. I liked to keep people waiting and fuming a bit—knocks them off balance and makes them somewhat emotional in a situation where I’m perfectly rational and as calm as I can be given my training.

Still, it seemed like an eternity crossing that stretch of ocean. I kept having nightmares about being attacked by a bork on the way over and having the whole thing end right there.

The crossing, though, was uneventful, and soon the shining tower of the Castle hove into view, rising eerily up out of the trees. The sky was darkening, and I could feel a slight chill that told me that rain was due. It hardly bothered me. The executioner might care what sort of day it was, but not his victim.

We pulled up to the island dock and secured quickly. I walked off and up to the security building in back.

“Zhang,” I told the duty officer. “Here to see Bogen.”

She checked a screen and nodded. “You’re cleared to his office and no other areas. Pick up your escort at the security gate.”

“Escort, huh? Well, well!” I turned and walked out, then over to the gate I’d never gone through before. I had to put on a scanner to enter. Finally it confirmed that I was me and slid open, allowing me to step into a second chamber, where the procedure was repeated. Finally a far gate opened, and I walked through, meeting two khaki-clad and very serious members of the National Police, both very large men and both heavily armed.

“Walk between us and don’t deviate from our path,” one of them ordered. I gestured for him to lead the way. As we walked along the tree-lined paths I couldnt help but notice the special security systems all over the place and the fact that just about every step we took was being closely watched by somebody. Still, we were almost to the Castle when we had to get through yet another double gate with scan, and from there we walked on into the inner courtyard.

I was impressed. Although artificially surfaced like the docks and landing areas, and made from careful cutting of the trees, the area around the Castle was something I hadn’t seen since leaving the Confederacy. They had imported sod from somewhere—probably Lilith, since that was supposedly the garden planet—and there was a huge, brilliant green lawn complete with exotic plants and flowers. I was impressed a little more with Laroo; this was the sort of thing I would have done in his position, but few others would have.

After another scan at the Castle entrance as we approached, we were inside double sliding doors. I had to admit, despite the tales from the concubines, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. We walked through huge open areas with incredibly opulent furnishings. Beautiful rugs and carpeting blended into furlike couches, chairs, and recliners. On the walls were beautiful works of original—I supposed—artwork that matched the mood of the rooms. The only jarring note was the policemen standing guard just about everywhere, that plus the knowledge that cameras were following us everywhere and seeing everything.

I never saw any stairways, although they might well be somewhere if only for safety reasons. We went up in a large elevator that was basically a glass tube wrapped completely around its supporting pole. Very neat, I thought. They control access to and egress from the elevators, can see you at all times, and make sure you go only where you’re supposed to.

We got off on what I thought was either the fourth or fifth floor, walked across to the main building on a small ramp—which had emerged when we stopped there and pulled back into the wall once we were clear, another nice touch—and down another corridor. This floor was filled with rooms resembling national museums, complete with display cases and lighting. Weapons, corns, and gems from many worlds were all there in their respective places. I was more than impressed. I knew, too, that this stuff wasn’t Wagant Laroo’s—it was just put in his charge. Everything here was a type of object that could survive Warden sterilization from the Cerberan organism, and all of it belonged to somebody else, put here for safekeeping until its owner needed it or was in a position to enjoy it. I began to appreciate just what Bogen secured most of the time.

Finally we reached the end of the hall and a door slid back to reveal a modern office waiting room, complete with receptionist but lacking, I noticed, anything to read or look at.

My two guards flanked me while I presented myself. The receptionist nodded at my name. “Go right in. Director Bogen is waiting for you.”

“I’ll bet,” I muttered and walked to the inner office door, then turned and looked back at my guards. “Not coming?”

They said nothing, so I opened the door and stepped inside.

It was a small, cramped office, one that looked really lived in—all sorts of books, magazines, print-cuts, you name it—were scattered over the place, practically obscuring an L-style office desk with computer access terminals on one side and a pile of papers and other stuff, even a dictawriter, on the other. Bogen, dressed in casual work clothes, needed a shower and shave. Clearly he wasn’t prepared for this, and his eyes had an angry look.

“Clear that junk away and sit down,” he snapped, gesturing to a chair. I did so and just looked at him.

“Well?” he shot. “Just what kind of shit are you trying to pull on me, Zhang, or whatever your name really is?”

“I wanted to prove a point about your operation, and I think I proved it to your satisfaction,” I told him, controlling heart rate, blood pressure, and everything else, to keep as calm and relaxed as was humanly possible.

“That my security stinks? Is that it? Look, it’s easy for you to have picked up that Project Phoenix name just from some of the stuff around the docks, and maybe to guess a little that we’re doing some kind of biological experiments out here. But you put your finger on the heart of the research, and that just isn’t possible. Aside from the Chairman, me, and six or seven other people on Cerberus—and the other three Lords—there’s nobody, and I mean nobody, who knows what we’re doing who ever gets off this island. I want to know how you know, and I want to know why you told me you knew, before I have you killed.”

“Charming,” I responded dryly. “I’ll bet that line is a big hit with all the girls.”

“Cut the clown act, Zhang! I’m in no mood for it.”

“Would you believe I deduced it?”

“Ha! From what? You’d have to know more than almost anybody on this planet to do that.”

“I do,” I replied coolly. “I’m not from this planet. And to judge from your accent, neither are you originally. I know about the aliens, Bogen. The aliens and their fancy robots.”

“How could you know? Or are you admitting you’re a Confederacy agent, like I thought?”

“I’m an agent,” I admitted. “My old employer was the Assassination Bureau of Security. They took me and using a process that seems to have been developed based on what happens here on Cerberus, they put me in Qwin Zhang’s body and sent me here.”

“For what specific purpose?”

“Basically because they already suspected how the robots were so perfectly programmed,” I told him, lying profusely and knowing that I was being monitored by lie-detection gear of the first [water]. That was all right. I had been trained to fool the best of them.