Piers Anthony - Total Recall

“So you dropped by to apologize,” he asked.

“Kuato wants to see you.” She unlocked Quaid’s handcuffs. “Come on!” She pulled him to his feet and they tore down the corridor.

Richter and Helm ran out of the service elevator. Richter pulled up short at the sight of the bullet hole in Lori’s forehead. The blood drained from his face as he was hit by a wave of disbelief and rage. The last time he had seen her, she had been so warm, so alive, and now…

No, he thought. Not Lori. Not my Lori! She had been the best thing that ever happened to him. Smart, beautiful, and great in bed. He could not bear the thought of never holding her again, never seeing her smile, never hearing her sultry voice.

He was filled with a mind-numbing anguish that was quickly replaced by white-hot fury. Hauser had done this. That murdering, traitorous scum! Richter would avenge Lori’s death if it was the last thing he did. He’d rip the bastard’s head off, he’d…

Helm touched his shoulder and pointed. Richter saw Quaid and Melina running down the hall. With an incoherent bellow, Richter opened fire, charging after them. Bullets whizzed past Quaid’s ears.

Damn! He had feared there would be more goons erupting from the elevator, so that a gun battle would wipe him and Melina out even if they got Richter and Helm. But it seemed there were just the two men. Now any hesitation, any attempt to get into position to fire accurately, would put them at a fatal disadvantage. They had to keep running.

They came to an exit door. Melina pulled at it. It refused to open. “Shit!” she exclaimed.

They kept running, having no alternative at the moment. They headed toward the big window at the end of the corridor. Outside the window there was only the red sky and geodesic framework, with no indication of any surface to stand on.

“Now what?” Quaid asked, seeing the dead end coming.

“Jump!” she replied succinctly.

Had he been in better command of his wits, he might have balked, but he remained a bit unbalanced from the knockout. Maybe it was the same with her. Well, if he was going to take a fall, she was the one he wanted to do it with! He remembered the dream—

They leaped together—and crashed through the window. They sailed through the air, and fell, and parts of Quaid’s life passed before his eyes, and he gained a new understanding of what was buried in his mind. It did relate to the welfare of mankind!

Then he looked down and saw the rooftop just six feet below. Melina had known of it, obviously. The hotel was a series of terraces built right up next to the dome.

They landed, bounced, scrambled to their feet, and resumed their running. Richter and Helm appeared at the broken window and fired down at them. Then Quaid and Melina dashed out of range around a corner.

Quaid heard the crash as Richter and Helm jumped down to follow. This chase wasn’t over yet!

They ran from roof to roof, dodging to stay out of the line of fire. Fortunately, their pursuers couldn’t fire accurately while running, so were wasting shots.

But soon they found themselves boxed in, as they had been in the hotel, except that this time it was drop-offs that surrounded them, not walls. Where now?

Melina ran full speed toward the edge. Quaid followed with dismay. “Again?”

Evidently so. He hoped she still knew where she was going. Then he saw the dome ahead. He tucked the gun into his waistband. He was sorry he hadn’t been able to keep the plastic gun he had worked so hard to bring; it was a superior weapon.

They reached the edge of the rooftop, leaped, and grabbed onto the scaffolding of the geodesic dome. Again they had found an escape!

As he clung to a beam, Quaid glanced back. He saw Richter and Helm arrive at the edge of the roof. Richter raised his gun to shoot, but Helm smashed his arm down in time for the bullet to discharge into the floor.

“You trying to kill us?” Helm screamed.

Furious, Richter clouted Helm in the head and tried for another shot. Helm struggled fiercely with his much larger boss. “You’ll crack the fucking dome!” he shouted as he pummeled Richter.

True enough, thought Quaid, remembering the scene at the spaceport. A bullet could do it as readily as an explosive mask. The man was a shoot-first fool, as likely to kill an innocent party as the one he was after. But he must have come to his senses because the shot never came.

“By the way,” Quaid gasped as if they were doing this for fun. “Ever hear of a company called Rekall?”

“I used to model for them. Why?”

“Just wondering.” Things were falling into place in his mind, even as they were coming apart in other ways.

Quaid followed Melina as she athletically edged along beams, slid down pipes, and swung from strut to strut. She might look like a woman of leisure, but now she was an acrobat!

But his contortions dislodged the gun at his waistband. Quaid couldn’t catch it; with regret he watched it fall. Melina had either ditched hers on the roof or lost it similarly. Now they had no way to fire back. Meanwhile Richter and Helm were climbing down the side of the hotel, a much easier and shorter task. They were gaining!

Quaid and Melina dropped to the ground next to a solid wall. Richter and Helm landed almost simultaneously. They ran forward, shooting.

Quaid looked around and saw nowhere to hide. He searched frantically for his dropped pistol, but it was lost amid the materials at the base of the dome, and there was no time to get it anyway. Things looked bad for the home team!

Richter slowed to a walk as he came within range. He leveled his gun, taking more careful aim. He was grinning. He intended to take no prisoners!

Then a car screeched around a corner, cutting off Richter and Helm. It stopped in front of Quaid and Melina.

It was Benny, the jivester cabbie! “Need a ride?” he said.

They dived into the cab, tumbling over each other as Benny gunned it and fishtailed away.

“The Last Resort!” Melina gasped. “Quick!”

Richter fired from the curb and the rear window shattered. Quaid pulled Melina down low to avoid the flying glass.

“Jesus!” Benny yelled. “Y’all in trouble?” He put the accelerator to the floor.

Behind them, Richter and Helm clambered into their car and peeled out into traffic, guns blazing.

Benny swerved into the main tunnel. “Whatcha doin’ to me, man! I got six kids to feed!”

Benny made a sharp left into a tubeway that led across the chasm. The motion flung Quaid and Melina together. He wished they could do it deliberately! As it was, he disengaged carefully, not wanting to set off any misunderstandings.

The pavement of this tubeway was not quite even. As the car passed from segment to segment at high speed, lights flashed and the tires made rhythmic sounds. Calumph, calumph, calumph, transmitted through the chassis. The effect was oddly soothing.

“You got a gun, Benny?” Quaid asked.

“Under the seat, man.”

Quaid fished under the front passenger seat and found a gun mounted in a concealed sheath. He pulled it out and checked it. It was a pro special, loaded.

This cabbie knew how to protect himself when he had to!

He looked back. Richter was leaning out of his car. There was a muzzle flash. Benny’s rearview mirror was blown off. Richter was getting better!

Quaid leaned out a window and fired back, carefully. The shot went true; Richter’s windshield shattered.

The car swerved, but did not go out of control. That meant he hadn’t hit the driver. Too bad. He saw a hand with a gun scraping the glass beads away. Then the fire resumed, from inside the car.

All he had accomplished was to make it easier for Richter to shoot at them! Indeed, it looked as if the man was bringing out heavier artillery. What did he have?