Read Logan's Search for Free Online

smart. Smart and dangerous.”
    Francis grinned. “That’s how I like ‘em.” He looked at Logan. “This last one might be fun after all.” 
    “Maybe,” said Logan.
    The board tech punched in the scan coordinates. Logan was stunned as the runner’s tri-dimensional image filled the scanboard: it was Doyle!
    Jessica’s brother!
    Data quick-flashed across the screen:
    Runner…DOYLE 10—14302 
    Height…6-1
    Weight…180 
    Hair…DARK BROWN 
    Eyes…SAME
    Physical markings…SMALL SCAR ABOVE RIGHT EYE
    DS status…CRYSTAL BLACKED 0800…ARCADE 
    Present location…DESERT AREA…PALM SPRINGS.
    Scope reading…NEGATIVE
    WARNING…WARNING…WARNING….
                      WARNING…WARNING
    APPROACH WITH CAUTION…SUBJECT ARMED WITH 
    STOLEN X-9Z FUSE WEAPON
    “Are you all right?” Francis was staring at him. Logan had unconsciously fisted both hands; his knuckles were white, his face taut with suppressed emotion. He nodded slowly.
    “Something’s wrong.”
    “It’s just that he—looks like a man I knew.”
    “Friend?”
    “No…just someone I knew once.”
    “Well, we’d better move on this one. They’re holding a car for us.” Francis checked his Follower. “They tried for a scope reading. No go. But we can lock into him once we hit the desert.”
    “Yes, we can do that,” said Logan. His tone was flat and mechanical. He was numbed by the realization that it was happening all over again; he was being forced to hunt down Jessica’s brother here on this Earth exactly as he had done in the past, on his own world.
    “The board tech mentioned he’d been staying with a sister,” Logan said as they took a dropchute to the DS platform. “Know anything about her?”
    “A little,” said Francis. “Name’s Jessica 6. No arrest history. Seems stable enough, but with a brother like Doyle you can never tell.”
    “She on red?”
    “Right…due for Sleep anytime now. When she blacks they’ll be watching her.”
    On the maze platform they boarded the waiting express vehicle. The canopy slid closed and the mazecar moved out, rapidly gaining tunnel speed.
    The Indio platform, just over two hundred miles from DS Headquarters, was less than a minute’s ride.

    They emerged into the dry windless heat of a desert afternoon, into a smell of baked sand, of sunseared rock and cactus.
    Francis squinted at the hot blue sky. A vulture rode the upper air currents in a long, lazy patrol.
    “He’s hunting, too,” said Francis with a thin smile. “I figure well have better luck!”
    A DS hovercat was waiting for them beyond the platform, glinting silver-blue in the shimmering heat. This rugged little machine could navigate any type of desert terrain. Solar-powered, its metalloid skin was impervious to assault by any hand weapon; a Fuser charge, exploding along its surface, would leave no trace. And the cat was fast.
    Francis popped the jumpdoor and they climbed inside.
    “We should be able to get a fix on him,” said Francis, working the cat’s trackscreen. “He can’t be too far.”
    Logan was thinking of the other Doyle—of how he’d had the man in direct kill range but had not fired. It was the first time Logan had ever done such a thing, failing to use the Gun. It was the crack in his DS armor, the real beginning of his run for Sanctuary. In that earlier hunt, Doyle had died in Cathedral; the cubs had ripped him apart. But we were responsible, thought Logan; he was running from us when the cubs got him.
    How Jess had hated him for her brother’s death! Yet, without Doyle, he’d never have known her… loved her…fought to keep her.
    “Ah, there’s our boy!” The triumphant voice of Francis erased Logan’s thoughts. He glanced at the readout: a green dot was inching across the screen like a tiny electronic insect.
    “I make him about five miles this side of Indian Wells,” said Francis. “We’ll come in through Spiker Wash. That’ll put us right on him.”
    “What’s he trying