“Is there a chopper rental in this town?”

“Absolutely. Cutting tool first-then the sunny suburbs.”

Bolivar stopped just along enough in front of Tools-R-Us to dive through the front door. He was back moments later with a molecular debinder. Threw it to me then jumped the car forward. I turned it on, pressed it against the cuffs. A thin plane of energy loosened the atomic bonds in the metal and a tiny shower of molecules ran down my arm. By the time we got to the copter field I was rubbing cream into the cuts and abrasions. I was about to throw the debinder into the back of the car with the remains of the cuffs. Then thought better of it and stuffed it into my pocket.

An interstellar flying license, along with wads of cash and a credit card, worked wonders. I stayed inside the car until I saw the copter taxi out. Walked over quickly and jumped in.

“Just talked to James,” he said as we shot into the air. “He says that Igor’s truck is outside the house. He wants to go inbut I told him to wait until we got there.”

I nodded agreement. “Three are better than one. Is this thing going as fast as it can?”

“Needle against the peg. I told him to find a place where we can set the copter down and to meet us there.”

We were going fast, but I kept feeling that it wasn’t fast enough. My brain was whizzing as fast as the copter. Why had Igor gone to the house? If Angelina were there, she might very well be the reason for the trip. He wouldn’t harm her, not without Kaia’s orders. But what had been his orders? My thoughts sizzled in circles, my stomach grumbled and complained. My side hurt. I dug deeper into the first-aid kit from the car and discovered a flask of medicinal brandy.

“Not me, I’m driving,” Bolivar said. “But you look like you need it.”

“Looks don’t lie.” The ardent spirits hurt the cuts in my mouth, but did wonders when it hit my stomach. Was I getting too old for this kind of thing? I certainly felt that way. At this moment I was well aware that I was really getting very much around the bend.

“We’re coming in over the grid reference now-and I see the field,” Bolivar said into the phone. “James, is that you waving? Great-I’m setting her down.”

We ran to the car before the copter’s blades stopped turning. James gave my face and all the bandages one long stare, but said nothing. We dived in and the wheels spun.

“Bring us up to speed,” I said.

“The truck you told me about is beside the building. As far as I know Igor is alone in the house-along with the robot of course. The plans of the building are on the seat next to you.”

Large, very large. I counted ten, twelve rooms. A single story, with a penthouse arrangement on the top at one end. The side projection showed the house had been built on a slab with no basement below. I looked at this suspiciously, then tapped the plans.

“All of these rooms have windows,” I said.

“Most rooms do,” Bolivar said.

“Chaise made a video at my insistence, to prove that Angelina was safe. The room she was in was artificially lit. And there were no windows in the shot.”

“Was it done at night?”

“No. He left in the morning. If he came here he should have returned before dark.”

Bolivar looked at the plans. “If any room has sealed windows that’s where we look first. We can examine the rooms easily enough from the outside.”

“And if the curtains are all open and we can see in?” I asked, then answered myself. “Remember the bank? How Chaise concealed the money that was supposed to have been stolen?”

“Of course!” Bolivar said. “A secret room under the vault. If he could have that done while the bank was being built right in the heart of the city-it would be infinitely easier to do out here in the suburbs.”

James pulled the car to a stop and pointed. “The building is located just around the corner, behind that grove of trees.”

We got out of the car and James was just locking it when we heard the grind of a starter, followed by the sound of a heavy engine turning over.

“That’s Igor’s truck,” James said. “It was parked beside the house. What do we do-let it go and follow it?”

“No,” I said. “Stop it. There is a good chance that Angelina is either in the truck or in the house. Igor will know one way or the other.”

“But it might be dangerous.. .” Bolivar said, worried.

“My decision,” I said. I heard the truck start forward and turn into the road. I stepped off the curb and held up my hand when it appeared.

I was so worried about Angelina that, for the moment, I had completely forgotten what I looked like. I was literally not myself. The scar still cut across the bruised and battered face of Iba. That was what Igor saw standing in the street before him. The effect was very dramatic.

I saw his mouth drop open, his face twisted in a mask of terror.

Then he dropped forward over the steering wheel and the truck continued, coming directly at me.

I dived and rolled, landing on the pavement at the boys’ feet.

“Stop the truck!” I shouted. Wincing at the feel of new bruises on top of the old ones.

The out-of-control machine ground forward, driving right across the road and up the curb. Then it drove straight into the grove of trees beyond. Thick trunks splintered and bent-but did not break. They were immovable objects all right. But the truck was no irresistible force. The wheels spun, locked, the whole thing juddered until the engine gave out a large grating sound and died.

James reached it first, pulled the door open. Igor’s limp body slid out, would have hit the ground headfirst if James hadn’t grabbed him and broken his fall. I climbed over them and into the truck.

Angelina wasn’t there. I looked through the window into the body of the truck. Empty.

“Get him on his side, tongue out of the way,” Bolivar said. “That’s it. Any pulse?”

“Yes. But very weak, rapid and irregular.”

“Heart attack?” I asked.

James nodded and looked around. The few houses here were set back from the road. We were the only ones who had seen the accident.

“It looks pretty bad,” I said. Igor had never done very well by me. But we just could not stand by and let him die. James said it just before I did.

“I don’t want him to die on us. We better call an ambulance.” He took out his phone.

“Do that,” I said. “Then I think that you should either go with him to the hospital, or follow in the car. While you are doing that Bolivar and I will check out the house. If we don’t find anything you will be with him when he regains consciousness. See if you can ask him a few pertinent questions then.”

James was talking into the phone, then closed it. “On its way. I’m pretty sure that they will let me go with him. I’ll claim to be a relative. I’ll keep you informed of what is happening.”

“Let’s think about that,” Bolivar said. “Maybe it would be better if I called you. If we are doing any breaking and entering it would not be that wise to have a phone ringing at the same time. I don’t want the phone sounding off while we are snooping around and possibly getting into the building.”

“We’ll do it that way. Go through the house-and call me the instant you find out anything.”

I could hear sirens in the distance as we went into the grove of trees that bordered the house on two sides. We kept under their cover as we worked around to the back. As we went we could see inside the building, through all of the windows; none of them were covered. The penthouse was almost completely made of glass and we could look right through that as well.

“I’ll check the other side of the house,” Bolivar said. “Best for you to wait here for me.”

He was gone before I could answer. Slipping around the large swimming pool. I stayed under the trees, watching the house. Nothing moved inside. There was a large two-car garage to the rear of the property. Locked, but that did not slow me down. But the only form of transport inside was an ancient moped with a flat tire. The floor was a solid slab of oil-stained cement. It sounded quite solid when I kicked it. I went back outside and within a minute Bolivar had returned, shaking his head. “None of the windows are covered. I think that your theory of a concealed underground room is very much in order. Do we go in?”