Dios, Ybor thought, that beautiful creature has just now had sex, still radiating pheromones and sweat. He turned to watch her walk away, a little unsteady but still Linda, dark skin visible under the white dress, white underwear accentuating the curve of her buttocks. He started to get an erection but the pain at the injection site wilted him. He would remember the sight and smell of her later, though, and put it to good use.
He went into Building 16 and stood for a moment in the air-conditioning, using his floppy hat to mop the sweat from his face and neck. Concentrate, now. Have to be quick and careful. Download the data and erase all links. He started reviewing the process in his mind as he hurried up the steps.
No one in the office. Lock the door or not? It would be a little suspicious, but the extra couple of seconds while the secretary rattled away would give him time to change what’s on the screen. But the secretary wouldn’t have any reason to be curious about what he was working on, and no one else was likely to come in except Dr. Whittier, his partner in crime. He left it unlocked.
He put a data cube in the desk niche and said, “Commence Minotauro.” A blur of numbers and words scrolled up the wall. He took a keyboard out of the drawer and waited. A couple of times a minute, the scrolling stopped and a query blinked. He typed a quick word or number and the scrolling continued.
After about ten minutes, the wall made a sound like a tree frog and went blank. Mission accomplished. He put his thumb over the “off” button and said, “Review data, Aurora Bell.”
Blocks of statistics, paragraphs of biography. “Faster, one hundred percent,” Ybor said. He could read very fast with the drug’s help.
Whittier was going to be disappointed. Dr. Bell either covered her tracks well or didn’t have much of a past. Parking tickets and one for speeding. Now, this bit about her husband might be useful.…
The door made a faint tick sound and Ybor thumbed the display off. He half turned toward the door.
It wasn’t Whittier; it was Malachi Barrett, the chancellor. He stepped away from the door and said, “Here.” A uniformed policeman swiveled in with gun drawn; aimed, and fired.