Read Online The fall of the dream machine by Dean Koontz - Free Book Online Page B

next step. He would have to shower and get
dressed, then somehow get to see Lisa before he left the building. The
plan called for a short contact this morning to ready her for the
escape that night. He would have to convince her that he was Mike, that
he wanted to help her, that she should cooperate. It might not be so
very easy, considering he looked nothing like the Mike she knew. He
finished eating and went to the shower.
    Later, he stepped into the hall, letting the door of the apartment
hum shut behind. He walked down the hall, punched for the elevator.
When it arrived, he was confronted by a small young man with a pale and
undernourished face. His teeth were yellow next to his gums. His
uniform was just a bit too large.
    "Top floor, please."
    The boy pulled down on the lever, sending the lift in a smooth
upward rush. "Hear about the excitement, Mr. Malone?" There was no
particular trace of fear or respect in his voice.
    "Excitement?"
    "Murder. Three bodies found between the third and second floors."
    "Whose bodies?" he asked, innocent to the world.
    "Mr. Conan, first of all. Lives here, a minor exec. And two
unknowns. Very mysterious, wouldn't you say, Mr. Malone? The police
can't make tops nor bottoms of it."
    The elevator jerked to a halt.
    He handed the boy a five dollar bill, in keeping with Malone's
conceited, self-important manner. "And make the ride smoother next
time!" he snapped, stepping out onto Lisa's floor.
    Lisa's floor
. The sound of it pleased him.
Lisa
.
He was going to be seeing her once more, looking down into those sky
eyes and those apple lips. He wondered how he would react. Could he
stand detached as he could while fighting, watching and evaluating his
reactions to her, to what she said and did? He doubted it. He thought
he would act rather irrationally and immaturely. And he did not really
give a damn!
    He asked the grid for admittance.
    "Yes?" a voice asked overhead.
    "Jake Malone to see Miss Monvasa."
    There was a pause while the central computer checked his voice
against the recording it had of Malone's voice. Apparently approving,
it activated the door.
    And she was standing there. Hair like sunshine, lips like roses. All
the cliches and then some. He knew for certain and more than ever that
he loved her. It was not just the association with her on Show. It was
very definitely something more basic, warmer, something unexplainable.
"Come in, Mr. Malone," she said with her wind-in-the-willows voice.
    "I just want," he said, stepping through the doorway, "to pay my
regards, Miss Monvasa. I have just recently been moved into this tower
through a promotion. I have always admired your work, and this was my
first opportunity to tell you so."
    There was a distinct pattern of distaste on her face, features
contorted. It alarmed him until he realized she was showing contempt
for Jake Malone and what he had said, not for Mike Jorgova and what he
thought. But he could not voice his own thoughts, not here in a room
with electronic ears. Her rooms might be on instant snoop or delayed
snoop, with her words not heard for a week. But he had no way of
knowing which, and he assumed an instant snoop was in progress. One had
to live in the world of Show with the knowledge that every word might
be overheard. He had to get her into the hallway. But first, some small
talk.
    "I find it a shame," he said, "that you no longer hold one of the
leading roles."
    "I find it restful!" she snapped back.
    She was wearing red leotards and a red top: crimson lady. A cinnabar
duchess. Her hair flashed wildly in contrast.
    "Oh, I guess so. The day-to-day routine would get tiring."
    "To say the least." She picked up a drink, sipped it without
offering him one. In fact, she had yet to offer him a seat.
    God
, he thought. He had never seen her cutting, sarcastic
like this. She had always been rather meek when speaking with anyone
but himself. She was dissatisfied, and she let it be known. It made him
feel good. She would be willing to