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conditioning techniques!"
Norma flared, "Of course not! You're our lawyer now, Mundin. Just straighten
that out for us, will you? Get an injunction against G.M.L."
Mundin sat back. Habitual criminals like his twerp were conditioned in
twenty-five hours of treatment over a week or more. Fifty hours in three days!
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"Why didn't they just snatch the stock?" he asked.
"That would be illegal," explained Ryan and hastily held up a hand. "No,
seriously. A forced sale could be attacked, and perhaps set aside by Don
himself, or by his heirs or guardians. This way the stock is neutralized, and
nothing pinned to G.M.L. They don't need the stock; they've got plenty of
stock. They just don't want Don and Norma to have it."
Mundin felt ill. He said, "I see. Sorry I was so stupid. So now Don doesn't
know where he put the stock and you want to find it."
Ryan looked at him with disgust. "No, Counselor," he said heavily. "Not quite
as simple as that. I
may not have practiced at the Big Bar for some time, but I imagine that even I
could manage to get duplicate certificates. Unfortunately our position is
somewhat worse than that. Donald, as the male heir, was the obvious person  "
Norma snorted " the obvious person, I say, to conduct a suit, so Norma signed
an irrevocable proxy of interest to him. That was an error, as it turned out.
Donald can't do the job. He can't bring suit; he can't tell us where the stock
is; he can't even discuss it."
Mundin nodded sickly. "I see. You're stymied."
Norma made a contemptuous noise. "Great, Mundin," she said. "You've put it in
a nutshell. Now that it is established that we're licked, we might as well lie
down and die."
Mundin said stiffly, "I didn't say that, Miss Lavin. We'll do what we can." He
hesitated. "For instance," he went on, "if it's only a matter of conditioning,
no doubt we can have your brother undergo a deconditioning course somewhere
else. After all  "
Norma raised an eyebrow. " 'Private persons can't use conditioning
techniques,'" she quoted.
"Didn't you say that just a moment ago?" ]
"Well, yes, but surely someone will  " /
All at once Norma seemed to collapse. She said to Ryan, "You tell him. Tell
him what he's up against."
Ryan said, "G.M.L.'s assets are not less than fourteen billion dollars,
comprising cash in the bank, negotiable securities, plant and properties and
equities, as of their last statement, in eight hundred and four corporations.
I don't say that they can break the law with impunity, Counselor. But they can
sure as hell keep us from breaking it"
Chapter Seven
FOURTEEN BILLION DOLLARS. Mundin, trudging apprehensively through Belly Rave's
dark streets, felt very small up against fourteen billion dollars. Still, he
had accepted the case.
A mournful hooting from the shadows made him quicken his step, but no lurking
thugs showed up.
Mundin shivered uncomfortably and turned up his coat collar. It had begun to
rain.
Luck was with Mundin. He was neither mugged nor lured into one of the clip
joints. The footpads were stalking other streets, the roving gangs of armed
adolescents plotted in their cellars instead of braving the ram, the cab
Mundin spotted, ran after, and hailed was a legitimate cab and not a trap. He
got out of Belly Rave without difficulty, and he never knew what he had
missed.
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The cab ride gave him time to think. But the thinking came to very little. The
Lavins, he was convinced, had a legitimate claim. He had promised them he
would work on it; he had tried to reassure them that things were cot as
hopeless as they seemed. He felt uncomfortably sure that the girl had seen
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through his empty words.
The cab came to territory he recognized, and he stopped it at an all-night
restaurant. Coffee might help. While he was waiting for it, he invested a dime
in a call to his office; you never could tell, maybe someone had called.
Someone had. The Sleepless Secretary hooted and groaned and came across with
the record of a familiar, scared voice: "Mr. Mundin, uh, this is Norvell
Bligh. Can you come and get me out of jail?"
Chapter Eight
NORVIE WOKE UP with a start. They were joggling him, with identical,
contemptuous smiles. Even hi the fog of sleep he felt a little stab of pride
at Virginia's beauty, a twitch of unhappiness at the same bony beauty
smothered beneath the fat of her daughter.
"What's the matter?" he croaked.
His voice sounded odd, and he realized he wasn't wearing his hearing aid. He
groped for it beside the bed. It wasn't there. He sat up.
He yelled at Alexandra, his voice thin and strange to him as it was sustained
through the bones and cavities of his body rather than the neat chain of the
auditory apparatus: "Where is it? If you've hidden it again 111 break your
neck!"
Alexandra looked smugly shocked. She mouthed at him, "Goodness, Norvell, you
know I wouldn't do that" The exaggerated mouthing was a mockery of
consideration; he had repeatedly told her that exaggeration only distorted the
lips.
Virginia tapped him on the shoulder and said something, stiff-lipped. He
caught an "eep" and a
"larm."
He clenched his fists and said, "What?"
She mouthed at him, "I said, you must have come in too drunk to set the alarm
before you went to sleep. Get up. You're an hour late for work now."
He leaped from bed, anguish spearing his heart, Oh, God! An hour late on this
day, of all days!
He found the hearing aid on the floor in the entrance hall, where h6 couldn't [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]