“I didn’t say it was. Just let me see his room for ten minutes and you won’t have to answer any more questions.”
She paused again. Then her hand disappeared beneath her workstation and the door to his right slid partially ajar. He pulled it fully open and stepped through.
“Room 49,” Carolyn said. She pointed down the corridor to Lux’s left. “The entry code is 9010. Be back in ten minutes.”
The hallway was equal parts hospital and hotel. There were notes of hospitality, like small sitting areas with vid monitors showing sports or tabloid programs. But these were marred by disrepair: threadbare carpet; small trash cans, full to the top with loose debris; the smell of disinfectant that betrayed the underlying corruption more than treated it.
Lux released the lock to room 49. Inside it was dark, but as he closed the door behind him and turned on the interior light he heard shuffling from within. He turned toward the noise, raising his right arm instinctively.
At that instant the attacker was on him, first striking Lux in the arm with a handheld truncheon and then tackling him against the door when the blow failed to do any damage.
They rolled to the ground. Lux swept his foot beneath to reverse their position. His bionic arm, awkward at times with fine motor tasks like handwriting or needlecraft, was stronger than anything a flesh-and-blood opponent could bring to bear. Lux postured up over the attacker, grasped him around the neck, and jerked his body, striking the back of the head three times against the floor in quick succession.
His attacker went limp in his hands.