Read Online Ballroom of the Skies by John D. MacDonald - Free Book Online Page B

something.”
    “The Public Disservice Act keeps anyone from saying anything very critical, Miss Voss. I don’t think your friend would want to join me on a shale pile.”
    She snorted. “Nobody touches him. Not twice anyway. I guess you heard of him. Miguel Larner.”
    “The racketeer? Certainly I’ve heard of him. He’s got his hands in every filthy …”
    “Don’t go Christer, Mr. Lorin. Mig has got … well, two sides to his nature. He might be a lot of help to you.” She was secretly amused at her words. “He’s a good friend of mine. Want to see him?”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “Maybe you’re in some kind of trouble. He likes helping people. You wouldn’t think so, would you? But he does.”
    “I don’t think there’s anything he can do for me.”
    “You in a rush? You got an appointment or something? It isn’t far.”
    She could sense his indecision. She urged him gently. At last he agreed reluctantly. She broke the connection by sliding the stud on the catch of her bag. Miguel would have heard Lorin agree. He’d be ready. She walked beside the tall man, alert for any form of interception. She hailed a cab, settled back in the seat beside Lorin, giving him a mechanical sultry smile, crossing her round brown legs.
    By the time they reached 215th Street he said, accusingly, “Not far?”
    “Just a couple more blocks, honey.”
    The cab let them out. Lorin paid the fare. She saw his quick curious glance at the sleek above-ground lobby. As they passed through the doorway Karen felt the barrier break, fold shut again behind them. She gave the traditional sigh of relief that came up from the stubbed toes of her shabby pumps. Nothing could touch her in here. Nothing could reach into the warm security of the egg-shaped barrier. The pointed end of the egg was above-ground, making a small dome over the entrance. The rest of the egg encircled all of the levels below-ground. Here Miguel Larner, Stage Three, presided over the agent teams, routed the field operations, maintained the communicationsnetwork. Usually, the moment she was inside, she could erase the Karen Voss hypno-fix temporarily and revert to her own identity. But with Lorin in tow she had to keep her makeup on.
    The Stage One at the desk had been alerted.
    “We want to go down and see Mr. Larner, Johnny.”
How did I do?
    “I guess you can go right on down, Miss Voss.”
Nice going, lady.
    “Thanks, Johnny.”
And scratch one Stage Two.
    “You’re welcome, Miss Voss.”
Don’t get too many credits. We’ll miss having you around.
    She led the way back to the elevator. As it slid silently down the shaft she gratefully let the rest of the screens slip. She had released the first one to permit communication with the Stage One at the desk. She felt warmly proud of herself, knowing that she had come out of this with a credit. One step closer to the heart worlds, my girl. One step closer to Training T to become a Stage Three, and then one more tour and you’re out of it, and you can go to work. Next time, by God, they’ll have to do better than this chippy cover. The fix went a little too deep. You had to watch your reflexes.
    “Have you known Larner long?”
    “A pretty long time. Here we are.” The door slid back and they walked directly from the elevator into the main room of Lanier’s suite. It was a garish room, furnished with the best that Bombay supply houses could offer. One whole wall was a vast and intricate diorama, portraying a walled garden with a pool. Miguel spent a lot of his time by the pool, and the perspective was so cleverly done that it gave the impression of being a vast open space, rather than a twenty by twenty cube cut into bedrock. Miguel kept the controls set in such a way that the diorama changed through each hour of the twenty-four, from cloudless days to full-moon nights.
    Miguel was sitting out by the pool in the four o’clock sunlight, a chunky sun-browned man with very little forehead and eyes like