The Barbie-bots led him along long corridors, out of the expensive, plush parts of the house into an area that looked more like a business-class hotel. They released him outside an anonymous door and he heard the lock click open. One of the robots signalled for him to enter, and he grabbed the knob and pushed the door wide.
Something large and loud came charging out of the room and hit him in the chest. If he hadn't been such a big guy, he would have been knocked flat. As it was, he staggered back into his guards with his attacker clamped to his chest, kicking and punching him with gusto.
“Hey!” he shouted, recovering from the shock. His assailant, he realised, was a woman. He grabbed her by the shoulders and held her away from him at arm's length. The woman looked up at him, with blazing eyes and a curse on her lips, and stopped dead.
“Rik?”
“Fariba?”
“Oh, thank God!”
She threw herself at him again, this time hugging him tightly. Rik wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He felt a wash of emotions: surprise at how small she seemed, astonishment and dismay at finding her there, and a sudden, glorious happiness that she was alive and unharmed.
“Please enter the room,” one of the robots said.
Freymann looked around Rik at the tall, beautiful speaker in the white catsuit.
“Are you going to introduce me?”
They let go of one another and stepped apart.
“Fariba, meet Barbie, and, er, Barbie.”
“Please enter the room,” Barbie said.
Freymann eyed the twins critically. “These two catwalk models are your guards? I don't see any weapons.”
Rik held up a cautionary hand. “Don't be fooled by their willowy elegance. Either one of these ladies could take the pair of us apart with her bare hands. Shall we go in?”
Freymann was clearly reluctant to believe him, but she turned and led him back into her room.
As the door closed behind him, Rik surveyed the shambles of broken furniture and the gutted carcass of what might once have been a domestic robot.
“I like what you've done with the place.”
He looked to her for a smile but Freymann was all business.
“The walls, floors and ceiling are hardened concrete. The door is steel. The window is... Well, who knows what it is, but I can't break the damned thing. There isn't a vent, crack or gap anywhere big enough for me to crawl through. And I've found three cameras already, so watch what you say.”
“How long have they had you here?” He cleared some electronic junk off the bed and lay down. Just the possibility of rest made him want to sleep for a month.
“I'm not sure. Days. Two or three. Maybe four. Where have you been all this time? It's more than a week since that zombie took you in LA.”
“What's up with your face?”
She pulled her hand away as if she'd only just realised she was rubbing it. “The damned zombie broke my jaw. The Feds fixed me up, but I've got three new teeth growing, and it hurts like shit.”
Rik almost reached out a comforting hand. “I was just with Cordell. Jesus, that guy's one sinner short of a prayer meeting!”
“Cordell? I knew it must be him! I haven't seen a soul since they brought me here.”
“You didn't miss much.”
“Do you know where we are?”
“Not a clue. South-Western US, maybe. Arizona? Nevada? Possibly farther south. Look, if no-one's been to see you...”
“Yeah, I know. I'm here for leverage. And now you've arrived, I guess it's showtime.”
He looked at her for a long time. She looked like someone who'd worn the same dress for four days, and spent half that time trying to dig through a concrete wall with a spoon and fork. Her big Persian eyes looked back at him steadily. She was ready to face whatever was coming, but she was tired, and he could see anxiety moving like a shark beneath the calm surface.
Before he knew why, he was on his feet and holding her again, apologising for being the reason she was there in that room, telling her she'd be all right, he'd take care of her. For a moment, she let him. She put her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Then she pushed herself away, roughly, and walked across the room.
“I'm sorry,” he said. “I just wanted to...”
She dismissed whatever he was going to say with a wave. “You're a nice guy, Rik. Really nice. But you're the kind of man who likes to look after people. Especially women. Am I right?”
Rik blinked back at her in confusion.
“Well, I don't need that, and I don't want it. I'm here to do a job. Well, I would be if they hadn't suspended me.” She gave a wry grin, and Rik realised she wasn't actually mad at him.
“I wasn't coming on,” he said, but if he wasn't, he didn't know quite what he had been doing. “I just...”
“You just saw a damsel in distress and rode to the rescue, right? Couldn't help yourself.” She was smiling now. “It's nice. Cute. There should be more guys like you. Tell you the truth? It scares me how easy it would be to just let you take the whole thing on those hulking great shoulders of yours. But that just ain't me, honey.”
He still couldn't understand what she was saying, but he got the message that he should stop trying to comfort her. Despite the slender build and the doe eyes, this was one tough cookie. He raised his hands in surrender.
She seemed to sense his bewilderment. “Look, Rik, I've met you twice. What do I know? So I read your file once. It doesn't make me an expert, right?”
He decided to change the subject. “So what's the food like around here?”
Freymann looked relieved. “It used to be OK, until I broke their toy.” She kicked at the carcass of the robot. “That was a day or two ago. Now room service won't call any more.”
Rik fished around in his pocket and pulled out a couple of bags of peanuts. He tossed them over. “I stole those on the plane. Didn't know when I might get a meal again.”
Freymann looked like she might run over and hug him again, despite all she'd just said. She pulled a bag open, then remembered her manners. “We'll share them.”
Rik shook his head. “I already ate. Knock yourself out.”
She wolfed down both packets. “All right,” she said, still chewing the last mouthful. “Why don't you fill me in on what you've been up to, remembering the monitors, of course.”