Biowar

93

“How do I know you’re telling the truth about the bacteria?” Karr asked Kegan.

“Why would I lie?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“I’m not.”

“So prove it,” said Karr.

“Test the bacteria strains. Buy some from the Pole and test it. I’m sure he’ll sell it. He sells everything.” Kegan shrugged. “He was useful.”

“He wasn’t a friend?”

“I don’t have many friends.”

“I know one. Charlie Dean.”

Kegan smiled weakly. “You know Charlie?”

“Yeah. I work with him.”

Kegan looked surprised. “Charlie?”

“He found the dead man in your house. He’d come up to see you.”

“Charlie? Is he — oh. God.”

“He’s all right. Turns out he hates cats.”

“Tell him I’m sorry.”

“Tell him yourself. Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here. I got a helicopter waiting. Get you home—”

Kegan shook his head. “Too late now.”

“Nah.”

“I’m afraid it is.” The scientist pulled the pistol up from below the blanket.

“It’d be better for everybody if you didn’t shoot me,” said Karr, though he was wearing the carbon boron vest beneath his shirt.

“Everybody?”

“Well, me.” Karr laughed. “What do you think?”

“Tell Dean it was all in the wrist.”

“What was that?” asked Karr.

Rather than answering, the doctor put the gun into his mouth and fired.