GANT

Seven feet tall. Bare-waisted. Dark, burnished skin. Deep-sunk, luminous eyes. A shark’s slash of mouth.

Gant.

Logan stood before him, flanked by two Sandmen.

“Down,” said Gant to one of them.

In response, the Sandman jerked fiercely on Logan’s chokechain, forcing him to his knees.

Gant walked around him in a slow circle. “Your body’s in good condition.” He prodded Logan’s shoulder. “Solid muscle tone. I’m happy to see that you’ve maintained yourself. So many ex-Sandmen go slack, allow their bodies to—”

“Where—is—she?” Logan’s voice was edged, the words spaced with cold anger.

“You’ll see her,” said Gant. “I give you my absolute promise that the two of you shall soon be reunited.”

“Have you…harmed her?”

Gant looked down at Logan and, for the first time, smiled at him. The smile was grotesque. The tall man had replaced his teeth with rubies. They glittered like blood in Gant’s wide jaw.

“I never harm a thing of value,” he said. “And Jessica has been of immense value to me.” Again the jeweled smile. “She brought me you.”

He gestured to the Sandmen. Logan was dragged up, pushed into a couch facing Gant’s desk. The tall man eased into a lifeleather chair, folded his hands and leaned across the mirrored expanse of desk. “This mountain is mine, Logan. It was Ballard’s once. But he got careless.” Logan found it all but impossible to listen to Gant, talk to him with any degree of calm; he wanted, with every ounce of his conscious being, to launch himself at the man’s throat.

“You smashed the Sanctuary Line at Steinbeck,” said Logan. “…and followed Ballard here.”

“That’s correct. But I was a bit late in arriving. Before I killed him Ballard had time to destroy a large part of the Thinker. Fortunately, not all. As you can see, he left the greater part of the Core intact.”

Logan remained silent as Gant fingered a large, square-cut ruby, one of several on the desk. He studied his captive, turning the ruby slowly in his fingers. “Now I have the Central Core, and you. A double bonus.”

“All these years…you’ve been brooding about my escape.”

“You dishonored me as a Sandman!”

“You have no honor, Gant! You’ve never had it. All you’re after is revenge.”

“An honorable goal in itself,” said Gant. “Many great men have sought it.” He chuckled. “In fact, when you killed at Steinbeck you were seeking exactly that against the Borgias. Revenge.”

“I wanted Jess back. I went there to find her—but it was you behind it all. You had her taken!”

“No, I’m afraid I can’t claim credit for that. The outlanders happened upon her, didn’t realize the prize they’d found. I was able to purchase her for a very modest price. But the price didn’t matter…”

He stood up, walked casually over to Logan, buried his right fist in his hair and savagely jerked Logan’s head back. “I wanted you, Logan.” His voice was cold iron. “Wanted you here!” Then he smiled again, releasing his grip, moved back to his desk. “Actually, until Jessica was put on the Market, I was not aware that you’d returned to Earth. But once I found her it made everything simple. Buy her. Hold her. Get word to you. Wait for you. All very simple.”

“How do I know you haven’t killed her?”

“You don’t,” said Gant. “I thought carefully about it, thought about bringing you here and showing you her corpse…but decided on a richer plan. One that will…satisfy me more.”

“Were you…satisfied with Jonath’s death?” asked Logan bitterly.

“He was brandishing a weapon. There was no other course of action possible.”

“Look…” Logan drew in a breath. “We’ve had our talk. When do I see Jess?”

“Soon. As I promised,” smiled the tall man. “I note, by the way, that you seem to find my smile unusual. Rubies happen to be a personal vanity of mine. I visited a New You and had these put in. I rather like the effect.”

“Why can’t I see Jessica now?”

Gant’s face tightened. “Because I say you can’t. First…there’s a special room you must visit. Of my own design. I think you’ll find it…stimulating. After your visit there you’ll be reunited with Jessica.”

“If you’re lying to me, Gant…If she’s dead…”

“What will you do?”

“I’ll kill you. Somehow, I’ll kill you”

Gant laughed, a booming sound in the room. “As a Sandman you never lacked bravado, Logan. Always full of drive, self-confidence…But, in your present situation, threatening me is an empty and ridiculous gesture.” He took a Fuser from his desk, moved quickly to press the flanged barrel against Logan’s forehead. “I could burn you in an instant.”

“I don’t deny it,” said Logan. His eyes met Gant’s, locked on them. “But you heard what I said.”

Gant flung aside the weapon, abruptly turned his bronzed back on Logan. He raised a hand. “Take him away.”

And Logan was dragged from the room.