Game Over

Chapter 8





“WE’RE GOING TO need a portable ultrasound scanning unit,” Emma said. “Try the Yokohiro Medical Institute servers.”

“On it,” I replied, whipping The List laptop out of my backpack and conducting a quick search. Y-O-K-O-H-I—there it was. And there was the ISP of their internal server stacks. And then it was just a few more steps before, voilà; there were the manufacturer’s design specs. And now that I knew what it was and could see exactly how it worked—

“Perfect,” said Emma, looking over the newly materialized device in her hands. It basically resembled a police radar gun. She aimed it at the man’s shoulder and had me look into the viewfinder. A glowing mass, about two inches long, spiraled through the flesh of his shoulder, perilously close to the axillary nerve. I let my brain absorb the image—the dimensions, the orientation—and was overcome with a new appreciation for what it is surgeons do.

And then, just like that, because I could see it, I teleported the transmitter out of the man’s shoulder and into the palm of my hand.

It looked like a curly silver wire. I zoomed in my eyes and did a quick study of its circuitry and transmission patterns. If this was a device Number 7 and Number 8 were routinely using, it would be useful to know something about it. Then I materialized a glass beaker of nitric acid and dropped it in—a pretty quick way to destroy the thing for good.

“Can you please give me the names you’ve been using here?” I asked.

“We are the Murkamis,” replied the father. “I am Eigi. This is my wife, Etsuyo; my daughter, Miyu; and my son, Kenshin.”

I introduced myself and my friends, but the real reason I needed their names was for a set of documents I produced right on the spot: Japanese passports, credit cards, and airline tickets to London—a place I knew to be recently free of alien infestations (read Book Three if you’re curious) and where they should be safe for a while.

“Take these and get your family out of the country,” I said. “Things are about to get pretty hot here in Tokyo.”

“I couldn’t possibly take—”

“He made them out of thin air,” Willy said. “It’s not like you’re taking anything from him. Trust me.”

The man thought a moment, then nodded. Then we all hugged. What can I say? We Alpar Nokians are big into public displays of affection.

“Hurry,” said Dana. “You may have destroyed it, but that transmitter was working for a few minutes there. Other killers may be on the way, even as we speak.”