Free Johnny Graphic and the Etheric Bomb by D. R. Martin Page A

could count on your cooperation.”
    Mel spoke up. “What do you mean by ‘cooperation’?”
    “Our investigations, and those of our colleagues in other countries, are currently under way. We ask that you leave this problem to the professionals. Your interference could compromise our work.”
    “What do you mean by ‘compromise’?” asked Johnny.
    “It means, John my boy,” said Mr. Cargill, “that Santangelo here thinks you and Melanie will gum up the works, mess up the inquiries of crack police agents all around the world.” He turned to the bald man. “Is that about right?”
    “Yes, about right. Minus the sarcasm.”
    Mr. Cargill almost started to say something, but Mel spoke first. “Legally what could you do to stop us?”
    Santangelo’s piggy eyes had opened a bit. “We have reason to believe that Zephyr Lines is flying in a special long-range seaplane sometime in the next few days.”
    Mel put her hand up. “Please, Mr. Santangelo, what could you do to stop us?”
    “I have a national judge downstairs who is ready at a moment’s notice to allow us to seize the aeroboat in question, and to prohibit you from leaving Zenith. If needs be, we can hold you and your brother and uncle indefinitely in custody.”
    “In jail?” Johnny yelped, shocked even at the idea of it.
    “On what grounds?” Mr. Cargill growled.
    “On grounds of national security,” said Santangelo.
    Johnny turned to his boss. “Can he do that?”
    “It depends if his lawyers are better than my lawyers,” Mr. Cargill answered. “And whether or not the judge has an ounce of common sense.”
    “Well, that’s rotten,” Johnny groaned. This whole meeting had turned really sour really fast.
    “You’re all playing at a very dangerous game,” said Santangelo. “This matter is way over your heads. And it is of no further concern to you.”
    Mel’s eyes shot daggers at the bald bureaucrat. “Mr. Santangelo, you weren’t nearly beheaded by a Steppe Warrior with no eyes and a nasty disposition. I was . You didn’t spend hours flying home through the dark in a badly damaged flying boat that might have crashed. I did . You didn’t nearly get sliced to bits in your own upstairs hallway. I did . You don’t have to go to sleep afraid because specters are hunting you. I do . So, I would suggest to you that what is happening is very much my concern.”
    Johnny looked at his sister with admiration. Boy, did she tell that bum what’s what!
    “Now, now, Miss Graphic,” said Santangelo, with a dainty little smile, “I’m just doing my job.”
    “Melanie,” Mr. Cargill said, his abrasive voice unexpectedly smooth, “I think Mr. Santangelo’s suggestion that we reconsider our plans makes a certain sense. Let’s go back to my office, talk things over. We don’t want to get in hot water with the Ministry of Etheristics, now do we?”
    Mel took a deep breath and followed Mr. Cargill’s lead. “No, of course we don’t.”
    Santangelo looked victorious. Grinning in a magnanimous way, saying how sensible they were being, the bald man walked out of the office.
    Johnny was almost shaking with anger. Who did this overbearing goon think he was, telling them what they could and couldn’t do? Even worse, why did Mr. Cargill, of all people, give in so easily? What was that all about?
    “Why in heckfire did you say that, Chief?” Johnny asked, turning red in the face.
     

 
    Chapter 17
    Uncle Louie put an arm around Johnny’s shoulder, leaned over, and whispered in his ear. “Hey there, short stuff. You don’t go spouting off to your boss like that. Not if you want to keep your job. Right?”
    Johnny sniffed and muttered, “Right, Uncle Louie.” Then he turned to Mr. Cargill. “Sorry I shot my mouth off, Chief.”
    “John, my lad, you remind me a lot of myself when I was your age,” Mr. Cargill answered. “I can understand that you feel a little hot under the collar. But sometimes we just gotta take our punishment and do the