Free Roadmarks by Roger Zelazny Page A

nodded and opened his bag.
    "He is. Are you all right?"
    "Can't complain. He's just had an ultrasound jolt and a left to the jaw, though."
    The golden-eyed man examined John's ears and eyes, listened to his heartbeat. He filled a syringe from an ampule, knelt and gave him a large injection in the right biceps. He drew a pair of handcuffs from his hip pocket and fastened John's hands behind his back. He then proceeded to search the yellow-clad form, removing various small devices from cuffs, collars, sleeves and boots,
    "That about does it," he said, closing his bag and rising. "As I told you before, he is a very dangerous man. What did you do to warrant his attentions?"
    "He was hired to get me."
    "Then someone must want you very badly, to pay the sort of fee he'd charge."
    "I know. I'm going to have to do something about it pretty soon."
    The other regarded him for a moment.
    "If you would like my help in resolving this matter, I will be glad to give you a hand."
    Red drew his teeth across his lower lip and slowly shook his head.
    "Thanks, Doc. I appreciate it. But no thanks. This is a very special sort of thing."
    The big man smiled faintly and nodded.
    "You know your situation best."
    He stooped and raised the supine figure effortlessly with one arm. His shirt tore across his back as he did so. Slinging John over his shoulder, he turned and extended his hand.
    "Thanks for my patient then, and best of luck with your — problem."
    "Thanks. Good-bye, Doc."
    "Good-bye."
    He watched the other walk back to his car, deposit his burden, get in and drive off.
    "Good to see John get his," said Mondamay, extending a metal hand, the firing tube now retracted, and placing it on Red's shoulder. "By the way, he was able to monitor your progress by means of a broadcasting device secreted somewhere on your vehicle. It was placed there at a repair shop you recently visited. He'd mentioned it to me. Perhaps we had best locate it and remove it before we do anything else."
    "Good idea. Let's have a look." They moved off toward the truck. "How come you didn't detect it, Flowers?"
    "Must be an odd wavelength. I don't know. I'll start a scan . . . "
    "You did not introduce me," Mondamay said.
    "Huh? Oh, he was so busy with John that I didn't want to interrupt him."
    "Not the doctor. Flowers of Evil, here. I did not realize I was holding a sophisticated intelligence when you handed me a book."
    "Sorry. Extenuating circumstances. Mondamay, I want you to meet Flowers of Evil. Flowers, this is Mondamay the killing machine."
    "I am pleased," Mondamay said.
    "Likewise. I find your plight extremely distressing — carrying around all those dead circuits, being deprived of function."
    "Oh, it's not all that bad. I enjoy what I'm doing just as much as what I used to do."
    "What is that?"
    "I'm a potter, among other things. Any sort of precision work in the arts appeals to me."
    "How fascinating. I think I'm almost ready for some degree of manual ability myself. At least I'd like to try. I'd love to see your pots sometime — ”
    "Flowers," Red asked, "have you spotted the broadcast unit yet?"
    "Yes. It's affixed to the underside of the body a little forward of the left rear tire."
    "Thanks."
    Red moved to, the rear of the truck and crouched. "You're right," he said after a moment. "Here it is." Detaching the device, he crossed to the front of the ground-effect car and fastened it to a spot within the front bumper. He returned then to where Mondamay stood leafing through Flowers.
    "Just to let them know we caught it," he said.
    " . . . And this Paysage is certainly a lovely one," Mondamay was saying.
    "Thank you."
    "It's nearly dinnertime," Red said. "Come keep me company and tell me how things have been. I've a lot I want to ask you."
    "Delighted," Mondamay replied. "By the way, I'm sorry about this whole business."
    "Not your fault. But I'd be grateful for some advice on it."
    "Certainly. And I'm anxious to hear your story."
    "Let's go then."
    "Don't