Strings Read Online Free PDF

hired fresh out of the shell. Hot from the oven. Of course, your grandmother is director. Amazing coincidence, that. But then…Ah, but then do you do what you’re told? No, you don’t. You sneak out of the organage a day early and go to a part of Nauc that you’ve got no right to be in. Why, Cedric, why? This is what we need to know, Cedric.”
    Cedric’s throat was very dry, and there was a sordid taste in his mouth. “I’ve told you, sir.”
    “No, you haven’t. Just because you’re the old broad’s darling grandson doesn’t mean you haven’t been bought.”
    Nothing Cedric could say was going to make any difference. He might as well keep quiet and wait until he found out what this hoodlum really wanted. For a moment there was a staring match. The gun muzzle came up to his face again, and he just squinted past it defiantly. Then it vanished and began slithering icily down the center of his chest like a cold steel snail.
    He grabbed it with both hands and totally failed to slow its progress at all—as well try to strongarm a truck. It scraped past his navel, mercifully jumped his shorts, and then poked between his legs and stopped. Clutching it still, Cedric looked up to see Bagshaw leering at him. The man pursed thick lips and scratched an ear with one finger of his free gauntlet. There was no doubt who had control, or whose health and happiness were at risk.
    And then Bagshaw began to move the gun in the opposite direction—slowly and irresistibly. “You can talk easy, sonny, or you can talk hard. But now you’re going to talk.”
    “I told you.” Cedric was squeaking. Half sitting, straddling that thick metal cylinder, gripping it hard to hold it away from important things, he was being forced inexorably up the bed.
    “No, you haven’t. Who did you come to meet?”
    “How do I know that you’re from the Institute?”
    “You’ll tell me anyway.”
    Cedric set his teeth as the knobs on his backbone came into contact with the headboard of the bed. For a moment the pressure was checked—but the barrel was still between his thighs, and he had nowhere left to go.
    “You’re sweating, Cedric. You’ll sweat more soon. Lots more.”
    Cedric made a discourteous suggestion, long on historical precedent and short on anatomical plausibility.
    “Now that is really stupid,” Bagshaw said, shaking his polished head sadly. “In the sort of fix you’re in, you do not say things like that. You beg, you plead, you sing loud. You do not say things like that. Well, get up.” He stepped back and pulled. Cedric, reluctant to let go of the gun, was almost hauled off the bed.
    “Up, sonny!”
    Cedric dropped his feet to the floor and stood up, slowly and painfully. It hurt to straighten, but pride insisted. Swaying, blinking back tears, he gazed down at his tormentor. The ape was far shorter than Cedric but about four times as thick, and just being vertical did not help greatly. Contrary to first impressions, Bagshaw did have a neck; it just happened to be wider than his head. Even on equal terms, unarmed, he could make coleslaw out of Cedric, who was all reach and no weight.
    And at the moment he could not quite stand straight and breathe at the same time. Bagshaw looked at him with open mockery in those curiously hooded eyes. “Want to play some more?”
    Cedric was an organage boy. He shrugged. “You decide. You must be enjoying it.”
    He might have scored there. Bagshaw grunted softly, and when he spoke it was in command mode. “ Com two: Relay message for Hubbard Cedric Dickson .” He nodded his head to indicate that Cedric should turn around.
    It could be a trap—Cedric did not move until a familiar voice at his back made him whirl. Two people were standing behind him, and one of them was Gran. His first reaction was shame at being caught in his briefs, but comprehension came fast thereafter. It was a holo projection, of course, which was how she could be knee deep in his bed. The man beside her was