Read Online Going Shogun by Ernie Lindsey - Free Book Online

internal vacuums collectively being created
around the room.
    Forklift laughs.
    The Minotaur exhales.
    Bingo inhales.
    I whine, “You gotta be kidding me.”
    Forklift leans back in his chair,
calm as an R2 on one of Wishful Thinking’s Chamomile Chardonnay IV drips.  “ So not sugar,” he says, and I know it’s the only sign of stress we’ll see from
him.
    The Minotaur says, “No reason to
panic yet.  You didn’t leave anything behind that would connect you to the
scene, did you?”
    I answer, “We tried not to, but our
fingerprints and DNA are probably scattered all over the place.  I mean,
seriously, there is no way we could’ve gone without breathing for fifteen
minutes.”
    “No big deal there.  That whole
thing about us...uh, I mean them, being able to find somebody after they’ve
breathed on a surface is urban legend.”
    Forklift says, “Yes!” and pumps a
fist.  “I knew it.”
    It’s a little odd and a little too
overexcited, because he’s usually right on top of stuff like that.  I
acknowledge, and move on.
    The Minotaur says, “Don’t get too comfortable. 
They can match you with a strand of hair or a flake of skin if they manage to
find it.”
    Bingo goes, “Yeah, seriously, Forky,
think hard.  Did you guys forget to wipe anything down?  Run your fingers
through your hair, maybe lick a spoon or something?”
    “I might’ve rubbed elbows with an
inanimate or two, but it’s not like I white-on-riced a pillow,” he says, then
asks me, “You, Brick?”
    “The only thing I can remember is
the doorknob, the stereo dial, and then you with the keyboard.”
    The Minotaur says, “Way more than
enough, even if it’s incidental contact.  It’s highly doubtful they’ll leave
anything alone if they find it.  At least that’s the way we used to do it.” 
For about a sphincter-clinch of a second, I think I see something resembling
wistfulness in his eyes, but it’s gone, just like that, as he returns to the
screens.  “Plus, if they really thought it was you guys, they’d triangulate
your cell phone signal and have you in custody in about ten minutes.  All three
of you should seriously consider dumping them in a drainage ditch a few miles
from here.”
    “I left mine at home,” I say.
    “That just means they’ll find you
there at some point if they’re looking, but it buys you some extra time.” 
That’s not comforting, at all.  Nothing I can do about it now though.
    Forklift says, “Mine’s been
chop-hopped with a no-lo.  Phone’s totally bacon-flavored.”
    I take this to mean he’s hacked his
phone, or paid a few bucks to have a no-location virus uploaded.  It’s not out
of the ordinary.  I’ve heard a lot of people do it.  And besides, Forklift is into
all that anti-Board Supremacy rebellion.
    The Minotaur gives him a questioning
look.   
    Bingo unzips one of the thousands of
pockets on her pants leg and pulls her purple phone out.  Pops the back off,
removes the battery, hands it to The Minotaur and says, “No reason for them to
be looking for me, but just in case.”
    He takes it from her.  “You never
know,” he says.  “I’ll keep an eye out on the incoming and outgoing to see
where they are.  Get home.  Hide.  Hole up.  Wait it out.  Only come back if
you haven’t been clipped in the next 24 hours.  Agreed?  I like you, but I’m
not risking thirty years at P15 for three grand.”
    “Agreed,” I say as I stand to leave,
with Bingo right behind me. 
    “There’s another pawn move that
concerns me though.”
    Forklift says, “Leak the faucet,
maze-dweller.”
    The Minotaur raises an eyebrow,
dismisses the mythology reference, and proceeds.  “Here’s what I don’t get.  LX
was almost as much of a quasi-Off Paper hermit as I am.  Who would’ve been at
his apartment at this hour and alerted the BAs?”
    Good question, and none of us have
the answer.

Chapter
5
    We walk out of The Minotaur’s place
and I’m a little confused