Piers Anthony - Total Recall

Then Lori kicked him in the testicles, and the planet went up in pain. He stopped resisting; there was nothing but the agony, and her treachery. She had said she loved him!

As if from a distance, somewhere beyond the radius of pain, he heard her talking. “That’s for making me come to Mars. You know how much I hate this fucking planet!”

No, he didn’t. He had thought it was just a pose to discourage him from wanting to go there. Evidently not everything about her had been an act.

The agents cuffed his hands behind his back. He was helpless. Then Lori kneed him in the face, knocking away most of the rest of his consciousness.

Vaguely, he felt himself being dragged to the door. Lori had done him one favor at least. She had finally convinced him of her true feelings toward him.

He would never again be deceived by her. Not that he was likely to get the chance. His consciousness faded out.

Lori spoke into a wireless videophone.

“I’ve got him,” she said, smiling as Richter’s face appeared on the screen.

“Bring him down,” said Richter.

Lori puckered her lips in a silent kiss. “Ciao.” The transmission ended.

He’d rather have killed the man, but at least Lori had been able to take him alive, satisfying Cohaagen’s order.

Outside the Hilton Hotel, Richter and Helm waited in a car. Richter clenched his fist with satisfaction. He’d rather have killed the man, but at least the bitch had been able to take him alive, satisfying Cohaagen’s order.

“Take the service elevator,” Richter said. “We’ll meet you.” Already Helm was piling out of the car. Richter followed him, and they ran inside the hotel.

Quaid came blurrily awake. He was being dragged to a service elevator. Two guests and a bellboy with a luggage cart stood to the side, not interfering. He must have been out only a few seconds—just long enough for his balls to settle down to a bearable level of agony.

They propped him up while waiting for the elevator. He stared at the floor, offering no resistance, just trying to get more of his consciousness back. His eyes focused on something nice. After a moment he realized that it was Lori’s legs. Too bad her heart didn’t match the quality of her body!

He also noticed that she wore an ankle sheath, with a knife. There was no doubt now that she was a pro! How could he ever have been fooled by her?

The elevator doors slid open. There was a burst of gunfire.

Huh? Had they shot him after all? He didn’t feel anything.

Then the agent in front of him fell. The man’s face was a study in surprise. Quaid hadn’t been killed—the agent had. What was going on?

Then a woman ran out of the elevator. She had legs as good as Lori’s, and a fuller bosom, and long dark hair. Then, as his gaze made it to the face, he was amazed. It was Melina!

Melina whirled, her gun blazing. In a moment she had mowed down the remaining three male agents, whose hands were occupied with Quaid. She managed to miss Quaid himself. Either he was lucky, or she was an excellent shot.

Lori dropped to the floor, swung her legs, and swiped Melina’s feet out from under her. The gun went flying. Lori grabbed Melina’s hair and yanked back so hard she almost broke the woman’s neck. She wound Melina’s hair around her fist, anchoring the head, and smashed her face into the wall. Once. Twice. Three times. Melina stopped fighting. Quaid knew the feeling, having just experienced it himself.

He squirmed over the pile of agent corpses. His hands locked behind his back, he wrested a gun from a dead hand. The agents had guns, they just hadn’t been using them on Quaid. This time Lori pulled her knife from the ankle sheath. She lifted it high, preparing to plunge it into Melina’s heart. But she paused a moment.

Melina’s eyes came into focus. She saw the blade poised above her.

That was what Lori had been waiting for. She evidently knew who Melina was: his dream-girl. She wanted Melina to see it coming. Maybe she also wanted Quaid to see her do it. She was out to hurt him any way she could, and she had found the perfect way.

“ Don’t !” Quaid cried. He wasn’t pleading, he was warning.

Lori turned and saw that he had her in the sights of his pistol. But she also saw that he was contorted, with his hands cuffed behind his back. Could he fire accurately from that position?

Lori’s manner changed, in the chameleonlike way she had. She evidently knew the answer to the question of his accuracy! “Doug…” she breathed. “You wouldn’t hurt me, would you?”

He kept the gun aimed at her.

Lori lowered her knife and brought her hands together innocuously. “Be reasonable, sweetheart. We’re married.”

Yes, so it had seemed, once. But he knew better now. Much better. His gun did not waver.

Lori subtly pulled the knife into the throwing position, holding the tip of the blade. He had no doubt of her ability to hurl it exactly where she intended. He had become her primary target.

“Consider this a divorce,” he said gruffly.

Lori swung her arm back for throwing.

Quaid fired. The bullet struck her in the forehead. The knife dropped from her hand. Then Lori dropped.

He might have let her go, even after her attempt to kill Melina. He hated to kill women. But she had proved her nature right to the end. She was all agent, as brutal as any of the goons, and more dangerous than most. It had had to be done.

Melina sat up, battered and shaken. She had evidently not expected to be bested in combat by another woman. “That was your wife?”

Quaid nodded. He had done it, and knew it was justified, but it still made him sick. Obviously Lori not only had not loved him, she hadn’t even liked him. He had not loved her, but he had liked her. He had killed her with a far heavier heart than she would have had if she had killed him.

“What a bitch,” Melina said.

That pretty well summed it up. Eight years—or six weeks’ worth of it—had been wrenched from his experience. It hurt.

Richter pounded impatiently on the service elevator call button. It finally arrived. He and Helm stepped inside. He remained sorry that Hauser hadn’t made a break for it, so that there would be an excuse to kill him—in the line of duty.

Melina crawled painfully over to Lori and searched her pockets.

Quaid watched her. “Drop by on your coffee break?” he asked sarcastically. “Time off from work?”

“This is my work,” she replied.

“And The Last Resort, that’s your hobby.” He knew he was being peevish, but he was sick of being left in the dark.

“That’s my cover,” she said. She continued her search.

She was a professional, just as Lori had been. She did whatever she needed to do to protect her true mission. He could relate to that. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

“I didn’t,” Melina said shortly. She found the key to the handcuffs and unlocked them.

“What changed your mind?” he asked, as if this were a conversation instead of a desperate escape.

“If Cohaagen wants you dead, you might be okay.”

Actually, Cohaagen seemed to have been trying to take him alive this time; the agents could have plugged him anytime, through that wall, but instead waited on the little scene with Edgemar and Lori. He refrained from clarifying that, however. Melina’s reasoning was similar to his reasoning about her: if she refused to deal with him as long as she had any doubt about the nature of his loyalty, she was probably okay. Lori had been opposite, and not just in the color of her hair. Sometimes it was necessary to see who a person’s enemies were before deciding whether that person was a friend.