Free Skylock by Paul Kozerski Page A

"that if at any time during the course of the project—for whatever reason—it is deemed that the integrity of your work is jeopardized or compromised, or your relationship to it judged to have become a liability, you could be subject to termination."
    Corealis scrutinized his candidates. But the only reaction came from Baker, who regarded his whisky, then huffed behind a bored smirk.
    "Been there before, sonny. Ain't no big deal."
    Corealis took back the reins. "On the other hand, your success would guarantee you substantial and permanent privileges higher in the organization."
    Baker's glow heightened, but Trennt looked away.
    "The entire task should be handled easily by men of your caliber," said the director from behind another sweep of calculating eyes. "Will you do it?"
    For the first time, Trennt showed a sign of interest.
    "How many people are on site?"
    "Nine."
    He set his water glass aside and stood. "No thanks. Bye."
    Corealis blinked. His aide was staggered. For the first time, their authority was in question.
    "Why not?"
    Trennt hovered impertinently between them.
    "Because I shepherd hard goods. Livestock is delicate and demanding. Intellectuals are worse; clumsy. They get afraid and lack survival skills. Makes extra danger for them and me, both."
    "But we wouldn't be herdin' 'em, Jimbo," interrupted Baker hurriedly. "Just sharin' their bunkhouse and ridin' home on the same bus. Besides, it's our patriotic duty."
    Baker faced his hosts, deciding for both men in a broad, honeyed smile.
    "We'll take the job."
    Trennt drew a measured breath, but did not object.
    The aide offered up a photo package for inspection. First from the folder was an aerial view of a rugged, tree-covered mesa.
    "The place you'd be going is this particular Wyoming tableland. Originally the site of an old Special Forces training camp, it was converted for the current research work. It's been made totally self-sufficient by its own power systems. Nine tenths of its diameter is sheer rock face and impossible to scale."
    "And the rest?" asked Trennt.
    "A very narrow band that was designed as an emergency evacuation route. It can be traveled upward in reverse, but not easily. The circumference is layered with an independent defense system, a mix of natural barriers and passive booby traps that are ringed and overlapped at various separate levels. Near the summit, an intruder alert system constantly monitors things through a laser gridwork, which is plumbed into a series of electric mines and an automatic gunnery system."
    Trennt interrupted again. "What kind of gunnery system?"
    The aide fumbled with his folder, annoyed and obviously unfamiliar with the mechanics of weaponry.
    "Ah, 40-millimeter grenade dispensers and overlapping 7.62-millimeter machineguns."
    "I want specs on the mechanism," declared Trennt brusquely. "Setup, range, and fields of fire. And whatever maps and pictures there are to detail every square inch of the terrain."
    Corealis concurred with a benign nod.
    "You'll have them. One other thing. You'll also be carrying a trigger mechanism to arm a small on-site nuclear device for neutralizing the grounds once you've departed."
    Trennt gave the footnote a cursory shrug, then moved over to sift through the mug shots and attached bios. All those pictured were plant geneticists, but from the pile one photo stood out. A slim, middle-aged man with thick salt-and-pepper hair. He gazed out from intelligent, yet heavy-laden, brown eyes.
    "This the top dog?"
    "Correct. Doctor Martin Keener, project team leader. A humanitarian individual who has answered a personal call throughout his life to abolish world hunger. Much of the Manna Project's core effort was based on his wealth of studies on drought-resistant grains for the old Third World.
    "One of his products you may have had practical experience with is the V3A barrier thorn-bush. A quite impenetrable living organism meant to contain livestock or prisoners of war."
    "And what's he doing