Free All My Sins Remembered by Joe Haldeman Page B

you for it, Mr. McGavin. I would do the same in your position.”
    “Why don’t you stop gloating at him and get some rope. My arm’s getting tired.”
    “Excellent idea.” Fitz-Jones went outside and returned with a long coil.
    “Finish your wine, Isaac. Come over here beside him, Kindle. If he tries anything, I don’t want you to roast me along with him.”
    Otto expanded his chest and his biceps as Fitz-Jones wound the rope around him. An old trick and not very subtle, but Fitz-Jones didn’t notice. The way he tied him up, just winding the rope around and around his body, reminded Otto that he was dealing with inexperienced amateurs, and he chastised himself again for being so careless. Why, they hadn’t even searched him, though he had to admit that he had nothing more lethal than a penknife stashed away. Still, he had his hands and feet.
    “We have several hours’ wait, Mr. McGavin. I suggest you try to sleep.” Fitz-Jones went into the kitchen and came out with Otto’s laser and a soda bottle. He walked over to Otto and chopped down with the plastic bottle. Otto tried to dodge but it hit the side of his head and the room went all blue sparks and gelatin and faded away.
    He had been awake, listening, for at least an hour when Fitz-Jones came over with a glass of water and poured it on his head.
    “Wake up, Mr. McGavin. It’s midnight, the lights are out, and we’re going for a little stroll.” Otto staggered to his feet, careful to puff out his chest and flex his muscles so the bonds appeared taut.
    “I just thought of something, Fitz. Do you have an extra pair of nightglasses?”
    “What? You didn’t bring yours?”
    “I’m not in the habit of carrying them around in broad daylight.”
    “Well, then, I’ll just take care of him alone. We aren’t going to take a light.”
    “Oh, no, you don’t. After what he did to me I want the pleasure of roasting him—slowly.”
    “Sure, and stumble into a dustpit along the way. I’m
not
letting you use the glasses and go out with him alone. You couldn’t hit the ground with a rock, not even right-handed.”
    “Fitz, he’s unarmed and tied up. And he can’t see in the dark.”
    “Unarmed and tied up and blind, he’s more dangerous than you would be in command of a battle cruiser. That’s the end of the discussion.”
    “All right, all right. Just let me come along to finish him off. I can hang onto your belt.”
    Fitz-Jones glanced at McGavin, who was smiling in spite of his predicament. “The arrangement has a certain lack of dignity. I can see it amuses our friend. But all right. You can walk along behind me, but if he tries anything, let me handle it.”
    “Sure, Fitz.” He ostentatiously switched the laser to safety. “Even if he starts throwing fission bombs, I won’t fire until we get there. Then let me get in front of you and find him by laser-light.”
    “Let’s be on with it, then. Mr. McGavin, it will be your honor to lead us. I’ll direct you.” They went out the kitchen door into the absolute blackness of the desert.
    Otto knew he had half a kilometer in which to make his move. He figured that they would be least alert about halfway there. He counted carefully measured steps, twelve hundred to a kilometer.
    The men were silent except for occasional terse directions from Fitz-Jones. Otto counted three hundred steps, then moved slightly to his left. Under the rope, he raised his left hand to his right shoulder and his left arm popped out of the coil. His body shielded the action from Fitz-Jones. He had a firm mental picture of the man behind him, and could strike at any vital spot once he knew where any part of his body was.
    He stopped and Fitz-Jones prodded him with the laser, giving him a reference point. He brought his left hand around in a shallow chop that sent the laser spinning, and before it hit the ground he delivered a savage, killing kick to the groin with enough force to knock both men down.
    He heard the laser