Linkage: The Narrows of Time Read Online Free PDF Page B

unscheduled visit. But it was Randol Larson of the Advisory
Committee. The pencil-thin attorney was carrying a clipboard and
gold-colored pen as he walked into the lab, his head tilted
slightly back.
    “I guess it’s up to me to deal with this
guy,” Lucas mumbled when he did not see Kleezebee tagging along. He
waved a quick hello to Bruno, who was standing just outside their
door with his Master Security Card in hand. Apparently, Bruno had
used it to let Larson into their lab.
    Larson, who appeared to be about ten years
younger than Kleezebee, was dressed in a blue, form-fitting
pinstripe suit. His medium-length blond hair was neatly feathered
front-to-back on the left side. It adhered to the side of his head,
defying both gravity and air pressure as he moved.
    Lucas assumed Larson’s spotless presentation
was purposely done to distract people from noticing his acne scars,
which made his cheeks look like the surface of an asteroid after a
yearlong meteor shower. He agreed with Kleezebee’s earlier
assessment about the attorney: It was hard to believe this
frail-looking man was a former gunnery sergeant in the Marines.
    Larson said to Lucas, “Dr. Lucas Ramsay, I
presume? I am Randol Harrison Larson the Third, lead council for
the University’s Advisory Committee for Theoretical Research.”
    “Yes, sir, I’m Dr. Ramsay, and this is my
brother Drew. What can we—?”
    “Where’s Kleezebee? He was to meet me here
thirty seconds ago.”
    Lucas looked at his brother. Drew shrugged.
“I don’t know, sir. Last I heard he intended to be here to show you
around.”
    Larson clicked his pen frequently as he
walked slowly around the room, stopping periodically to transcribe
something onto his clipboard. Lucas figured Larson needed to
document the contents of their lab, possibly for insurance
purposes, but he wasn’t sure. He considered asking the man, but
decided to let Kleezebee handle it when he arrived.
    Larson stopped in his tracks and stared
through the ten-foot-wide window that led into the adjoining
chamber. He scribbled a long series of notes before clicking his
pen one final time and sticking it back in his shirt pocket. He
leaned in close to Drew’s face. “All right, then, let’s get on with
it.”
    Drew rolled his chair back a few feet and
didn’t respond.
    “Come on now, I don’t have all day,” Larson
said, louder this time.
    Lucas moved in front of Drew, chest expanded,
fighting the urge to strike the bully. It was an instinctive
reaction brought on by years of torment in the orphanage. “Can I
help you with something?”
    Larson took an uncoordinated step back,
lowered his head, and began fiddling with his gold pen while
shuffling through several layers of his paperwork.
    This guy’s a former Marine? Lucas
thought.
    Larson cleared his throat before looking at
Lucas. “I’ve just received this lengthy, attorney-prepared
disclaimer agreement from the Defense Department. Obviously, I need
a comprehensive briefing concerning the nature of your project, and
its need for the material in these three containers. Liability must
be assessed. Damage must be mitigated.”
    Goddamn attorneys, Lucas thought, remembering
the family’s hefty legal bills to defend his dad’s failed pest
control invention. He’d thought about hiring a lawyer to fight the
insurance company over his mother’s denied medical claims, but
hated the idea of lining some future politician’s pocket with what
little money he had. Maybe he should team up with one of the
chemical geeks down the hall and invent a bio-toxin that targeted
only insurance executives and lawyers. He liked that idea—would
probably make him rich in the process since everyone would want a
supply.
    Larson continued, “Which one of you wants to
explain this to me? I need to know who authorized this.”
    Before Lucas could respond, Kleezebee buzzed
in and bolted through the lab entrance. He pushed at the doors, not
waiting for them to open fully on their