Chapter 77

As I step out a bag is placed over my head, and I feel a pin prick in my arm. When I wake up I am seated in the hospital room where I have often visited Veronica in the past. She is not in bed this time surrounded by tubes in and out, but seated on the chaise by the window. The view is of New York.

‘You didn’t have to drug me to bring me here, I know where it is.’

Veronica turns away from the view towards me. ‘I know, but the goons from IGBI, got carried away. I worry about the caliber of the recruits these days.’

‘You worry!’

The light is of a cold day in November, like looking through ice. I ask Veronica when can we get down to business? She tells me that we don’t have a quorum yet, and my good humour drops at the thought of Doil, and even worse, Smith joining us. I try some lighthearted banter.

‘What’s the odds that Brian is a spy for another Galaxy?’

‘Brian is our spy, we recruited him when we decided, you were the one.’

‘But he could be double agent. Did you promise him a body to move about in?

Veronica looks at me as if I’m demented. I carry on.

‘That is his greatest wish, to have a body. If the other Galaxy have lured him into their camp by dangling a replica of Alan Ladd as a carrot, then you’ve lost him. He’s gone over.’

‘And the bomb?’

‘A red herring, they must know he is bomb proof.’

‘So if we were to up the ante and promise him, say, the body of Cary Grant, he would come over solely to us.’

‘Who knows? He may prefer being a short ass like Ladd, but anybody’s body would make him even more of prick. I don’t recommend it, just take him apart and read his circuits. He’s very fond of you by the way and I know from my visits to the Suroundaround that the 1930’s Veronica had a thing for Allan Ladd. You could team up.’

She throws me a look that says I have gone too far. I put my hands up in surrender.

‘Just muso’s humour.’

Doil and Smith vid in, wearing matching silver outfits with badges of rank all over them.

Doil looks uncomfortable, but Smith is too comfortable. Smith gives me a bent wire smile so false you can almost see the strings. Doil goes over to stand by Veronica just this side of the balcony. Smith comes over and offers his hand. I ignore it. His grin slackens a bit and I get up and walk over to Doil.

‘I don’t like that stick of slime, can we substitute him for a barrel load of monkeys.’

‘Do you know why you don’t like him?’

‘Do tell?’

‘Because he is not likable. I don’t like him, Veronica doesn’t like him, no one in the seventh fleet likes him. It is his job to be disliked. That way he can be trusted to do his job.’

‘Which is?’

‘To get up peoples noses so they make a mistake.’

‘Subtle.’

Doil shrugs. ‘It works.’

Veronica stands up and steps onto the balcony. ‘When you boys have sorted out your feelings give me a tug and we’ll talk turkey.’

‘Oh what the fuck, a man without friends is no man at all.’ I return to Smith and take his hand, it is as cold as a 10k vodka.

‘No hard feelings buddy, just more muso humour.’ He remains impassive with the same smile. Like it’s locked on. It gives me the shivers. Doil takes four chairs and a table from a concealed closet, unfolds them and sets up a round table.

‘Let’s parle.’ He says.