Rogue Stars

by C Gockel et al.

  “A report by Elsi Schumacher of the Dawkins Institute. It’s extremely important that it be returned.” I glanced at Ezhya Palayi, wishing he weren’t here and weren’t listening. There was more I wanted to say, but I could only do so in vague terms. “I think Sirkonen knew something. It could provide proof of who his killers were.”

  “You know Dr Schumacher is dead?”

  “I do. I might be able to find out why.”

  Some of the lines on Danziger’s face smoothed out.

  “Mr Wilson, this information would interest me also. Special Services mentioned this datastick of yours.”

  “They should know what was on it. They took a copy. I want that copy.”

  “The copy was empty.”

  What?

  From the secretary’s desk, Thayu interjected, Not empty, copy-protected.

  Had she just established that by probing the office system for five minutes? How many things could this woman do?

  She added, without taking her eyes from her reader, There’s a sequence at the beginning of each document section that needs a sixteen-digit unlock code. There’s a file that matches up with it that zips the codes in. If you copy the document, only the main file transfers. You need a security key to copy the code file. If you don’t have that file, the document self-destructs when you try to read it. Oh, you can access it, but decoding is one hell of a job, especially since you never know what numerical and notation system the makers used. This one has all the marks of the Asto underground hackers; they use the Aghyrian notation; everything in multiples of five. It’s incredibly hard to crack.

  And Sirkonen had this? Material with the signature of Asto hackers?

  Only the file on the datastick we have.

  The original.

  The rest of this office system is mindnumbing in simplicity.

  Danziger glanced from me to Thayu, as if he was aware that some form of communication was taking place. “She says the data can’t be copied.”

  But hang on, back to Thayu, if it can’t be copied, then what’s the point of looking for other copies?

  We have the key file. We need an undamaged original that no one has tried to read.

  Ah. Stupid me. Back to Danziger. “We need to access Sirkonen’s personal workspace.”

  “The hell you don’t. Not them anyway.” Danziger’s mouth twitched. He probably knew, as I did, that Thayu was already into the system anyway.

  She brought a long list up on the screen of her reader. I hoped she was finding what she was looking for.

  “You’ll find nothing more than I sent you. I have nothing more than I sent you. That’s the damn truth, Mr Wilson. Whatever Sirkonen wanted with this material—weather data you say? However he got it, however Dr Schumacher gave it to him—you won’t find answers here. Don’t you think we haven’t looked? So if you don’t get these people right out of my office . . .” He pointed at the door, his hand trembling. “Before I call—”

  “You speak for your people?” Ezhya’s voice sounded threatening.

  Danziger stared at him, then his grey eyes met mine. “What’s he saying?”

  “He asks if you are a true representative of Nations of Earth.”

  Danziger straightened. “I am the acting president until the elections.”

  Ezhya placed both his hands on the desk, his thick fingers splayed over the wooden surface. “You represent your people well enough. With the document you have sent to your representative Cory Wilson, you accuse Asto of planning an invasion.”

  I translated more or less faithfully.

  Danziger stared at him, and then his grey eyes met mine. “This man doesn’t look like a security guard to me.”

  “He is.”

  Ezhya’s strict instructions. He was to remain unnamed and unidentified, even though his behaviour right now wasn’t helping much.

  Danziger raised his eyebrows. “His point is?”

  “Nations of Earth accuses Asto of planning an invasion based on what is a two-hundred-year old plan that was never seriously considered. There is a signature on the plan which belongs to a predecessor of the current Chief Coordinator from that time. I have run the material you sent me past the current Asto Chief Coordinator. He did not know of the existence of the plan.”

  Danziger stared, running his finger along his upper lip. He frowned. I could almost see him thinking. There were some tense moments in which I feared he might say something that would make the situation worse.

  Then he said, “Say for one moment I believed you, how would this end up in Sirkonen’s possession?”

  I breathed out tension. “That is what we are here to establish.”

  Thayu had something else up on her screen and was speaking in a low voice with Ezhya’s female guard.

  She met my eyes and shook her head. “There is nothing here.”

  Even though she spoke Coldi, Danziger had understood the gist of her words.

  “I told you there is nothing else. What I sent you was all.”

  And based on that flimsy evidence, he risked starting a major conflict?

  “We need to find this material.” I kept my voice even, even though despair clawed at my thoughts. If there was no other copy, we would have to try to piece together the information from what we could find at the Dawkins Centre, and I knew that wasn’t going to be the complete story.

  As for other places . . .

  We had contacts for Sirkonen’s immediate family, and only one of them lived in Rotterdam. I only knew Sirkonen had been divorced. “Did he have a special friend where he might have left a copy?”

  Danziger shook his head. “No girlfriends. Not that I know.”

  And then I got a stupid idea. I had seen that photo, taken by Melissa Hayworth in her best impersonation of a gutterpress journalist. Elsi Schumacher attending a dinner in the presence of Sirkonen. I’d wondered what he was doing there, because the occasion didn’t seem to demand his professional presence. What if there was more to their relationship? That would also explain why Sirkonen had the material. Elsi Schumacher might have had a full copy, since Sirkonen seemed to have been aware of the explosive nature of the information.

  Yes, we should go to the Dawkins Centre.

  On the couch in the corner, Ezhya’s male guard had pushed the secretary and the security guard up straight. Both had their eyes open, but didn’t look alert as yet.

  “Was there really a need to knock them out, Mr Wilson?”

  “Would we have been able to check your administration otherwise?”

  “I would have told you the same thing: I sent you all I have.”

  “With the way Nations of Earth has treated me and my zhayma, would there have been any incentive for me to believe that?”

  Danziger said nothing. I think he got the point. “I’ll submit a letter of protest about this.”

  “Sure.” Let the bureaucrats fight over it.

  I continued. “Mr President, I want Nations of Earth to understand that this has the potential to blow up into a conflict much bigger than taking two hundred thousand gamra citizens on Earth hostage.”

  “We didn’t—”

  “The emergency council used the military to close the Exchange.”

  “To keep the murderers from leaving.”

  “The action targeted the wrong people and sent the wrong signal. Gamra has no involvement. Nations of Earth did not invite me to give my opinion. I was not invited to the emergency council meeting.”

  “Your position was compromised.”

  “I was being treated as a suspect. Nicha Palayi was treated as a suspect, without reason.”

  “I admit on behalf of the police that it was a mistake, but one I think they were justified in making.”

  “It’s time that Nations of Earth understood that the conflict isn’t about Nations of Earth, but Nations of Earth is being used as a pawn. Nations of Earth is being used—forced and pushed to choose sides. Does anyone at Nations of Earth know what the conflict within gamra is ab
out?”

  Danziger stared at me.

  I said in a low voice, “Isn’t that why I was employed?”

  “You are welcome to explain this to the assembly.” Stiff-faced as hell.

  “I will, after this is sorted. After that, I will return to my post. This isn’t over yet.” I met Danziger’s eyes squarely.

  Danziger only nodded. “As you see fit, Mr Wilson. I don’t like you or your methods, but you do seem to have a talent for holding together a number of slippery threads.”

  “Thank you, Mr President.” I made for the door.

  “Mr Wilson?”

  I turned.

  “Just to be clear, don’t expect my vote. I intend to replace you as soon as possible.”

  Oh shit, hell and damnation.

  Danziger was going to bring in his cronies and take Nations of Earth back to the days of Kershaw. After this debacle, he might even have the numbers.

  Where did that leave me?

  I sure as hell wasn’t coming back here for a diplomatic post. Back then, when Amarru gave me the choice of getting out or staying, I had burned my bridges. I’d hoped, perhaps stupidly, that I could patch things up if I could solve Sirkonen’s murder.

  But I was no nearer to finding proof, and now I’d been put on notice. Did I need Nations of Earth? Yes, I did, for the money. Did I fully represent them?

  Well, actually . . . I represented peace, stability, mutually agreed relationships. I represented respect for cultures, all cultures, not just my own. I was a pioneer of the third wave of colonisation, moving beyond the parochial interests of Nations of Earth. I didn’t represent them. In all honesty, I probably never had.

  Well, damn, that was one heck of a useful revelation that came about ten years too late.

  In the train on the way to the hotel I was not the only one lost in thought. Night came early at this time of the year, and it was already almost dark outside. Evi and Telaris sat on either side of the cabin, silent, listening to whatever chatter came in on their comm units.

  Ezhya Palayi sat in a corner alone, lost in communication.

  I went to sit with Thayu and Ezhya’s guards, who were debating the course for tomorrow. We were to travel on the fast train across the Channel to York for the Dawkins Institute.

  Thayu split her attention between the discussion and her reader, which displayed Sirkonen’s file in the familiar array of hexadecimal data in which she seemed to have patched more holes. She had restored two maps.

  “We try to contact the son,” the female guard was saying. “He lives in this town. He might have something.”

  Security seemed to have everything under control.

  I dragged my reader onto my lap and connected with the news services. Flash Newspoint. I read through the headlines.

  Housing crisis in Europe.

  India defeats South Africa in cricket.

  Our promise to the poor: Danziger.

  I selected the last article and skimmed through text that spoke of Danziger’s commitment to suffering people of central Asia and Africa. Housing for refugees of the dust storms. Water recycling plants. Immunisation programs. Education. That was Danziger all over. Gamra was obviously a low priority on his list. Maybe he was right about that.

  He wasn’t a bad man, and maybe I should just shut up and go away.

  There was nothing about my visit. Nothing about gamra, the closure of the Exchange, or about Nicha’s release. It seemed the issue had already been forgotten. The world was still turning around; there were other news issues to take up space on the anchor page.

  And there was nothing written by Melissa Hayworth. I entered her name. A list of articles came up, the last of which was the one about my isolation in Barresh. That was now ten days ago. Ten days in which she hadn’t published anything, or been in contact with me.

  A chill went over my back. Either Danziger had silenced her, or . . . I had asked her to find information about Amoro Renkati.

  Feeling sick, I sent her a message. Am in Rotterdam, if you want to see me.

  I waited for her reply, but none came. I stared out the window, but all I saw was the reflection of Thayu and the guards at the table behind me. Ezhya Palayi had come back from his corner and spoke to his male guard. Telaris was checking the charge level on his gun.

  Thayu stiffened, straightened, and pushed her hand to her earpiece.

  The others stopped talking.

  “Anything up?” Ezhya’s male guard asked.

  Thayu listened, a frown coming over her face. “I’m getting an outside signal.”

  Outside being jargon for enemy.

  “Close?”

  She listened again. “Wait . . . it’s gone.”

  The guards exchanged meaningful glances.

  “Are we in trouble, mashara?” I asked.

  The female guard turned to me as if noticing me for the first time. “Of course they know where we are, Delegate. We know where they are, too. They won’t move until we have what they want. But if they’re coming closer, we’d best get to our accommodation soon.”

  Amarru had booked a hotel next to a railway station, in a sleepy, insignificant new suburb, one I was not familiar with.

  There were three rooms: one for me, and Nicha, I hoped, but there had been no sign of him yet; one large room for the men and a smaller one for the two women. My room had enough beds to sleep a family of six. I stood there, looking at all those beds, feeling miserable. How I wanted to be back in my apartment in Barresh. I dumped my luggage on the double bed in the separate bedroom, because its window looked out over a courtyard rather than the street.

  After a quick meal of take-away chicken, which we shared in the men’s bedroom and at which the conversation consisted of security arrangements, I left for the solitude of my own room.

  Someone waited at the door. Someone slender, wearing a dress, and with a mass of curly dark hair.

  “Cory?”

  My heart jumped. “Eva, what are you doing here?”

  “It seems this is the only way I can see you.”

  “How did you know I was here?”

  “I got a message.”

  “Who from?”

  “From you.”

  “I didn’t send a—” I stared down the corridor. Nothing.

  Thayu?

  What?

  Check bugs. Someone’s slipped our security.

  “Come.” I pulled her into my room and shut the door behind me.

  “Oh, Cory!” She flung her arms about me. It was awkward to feel her warmth through all those layers of clothing, and I noticed how small and thin she was, compared to Thayu. I pushed back, glancing at the door, listening out for Thayu’s response.

  Someone was running down the stairs to the entrance of the hotel.

  Eva stood there, looking very small and fragile, and frightened, her eyes wide.

  “Eva, what were you thinking? It’s dangerous to come here.”

  “I really wanted to see you. The message said—”

  “I didn’t send you a message. Honest. I wanted to keep you safe. Dangerous people are watching us. Please go to a safe place. I will come and see you. I promise.”

  “I’m not important.”

  I cringed. Please Eva, don’t start this now.

  “Cory, you’ve been running away from me ever since you left so suddenly. I don’t know why. I can’t get onto you. I leave messages, but you never write back.”

  “I replied to every message I got. Danziger cut off my communication. I’ve had to deal with an emergency.”

  Her eyes went hard. “It’s always the same, isn’t it? The world revolves around you and your work.”

  The door opened. “Hold it!” Thayu, in Coldi. She stood there, legs apart, pointing her charge gun into the room.

  Eva screamed.

  Cory?

  It’s fine.

  Thayu let the weapon sink.

  Eva came out from behind me, panting, her eyes raking Thayu’s black-clad form, her armour,
her massive shoulders and arms. Looked from me to Thayu and back.

  “I see.” Her voice was cold. “I received this message from Delia Murchison’s office, that you’d taken up with . . . one of them . . . that you had taken her to bed.”

  Thayu strode into the room and passed a scanner over Eva’s back.

  Thay’? Any bugs?

  No. How did she get in?

  Eva’s voice sounded far off through the roaring of blood in my ears. “I didn’t believe it, Cory. I thought you were a good man, and I thought she was just trying to be nasty. I trusted you!” Her voice cracked. “You’re not even listening to me!”

  Thayu stepped between us, as if ready to protect me.

  “That’s her, isn’t it?”

  “Eva, this is Thayu. She is my zhayma temporarily replacing Nicha. She is my colleague. Nothing happened between us.”

  “I don’t believe that. Tell me. Tell me to my face and look me in the eye. Then I will believe you.”

  “Listen Eva. What I’m going to say now is important. I want you to go home, and stay there until this has been solved. The people who sent you the message are extremely dangerous, and they’re using you.”

  “No one is using me. I came by myself.”

  “But someone gave you this address.”

  “No one gave me anything! You’re avoiding the question. Tell me the truth, Cory. Did you sleep with her?”

  “No, I didn’t! Listen to me and stop the hysterics. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

  She stepped back, blinking. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Then don’t.” I let my hands fall by my sides. There was no arguing the evidence anyway. She could easily have seen the recording of me and Thayu kissing in bed, because there was a recording of it somewhere. Never mind I hadn’t taken it any further. In hindsight, I should have taken it further.

  Eva let out a strangled sob and hid her face in her hands. “Why Cory, why? You promised you’d marry me.”

  “Damn it, Eva. Listen to me. I want you to go home safely. I’ll come when all this is over, and then we can talk about it.”

  “Talk about what? I have a life, Cory, and I don’t want to spend it justifying you.”

  Why should she have to justify me? For her family? That I couldn’t be at every damn dinner party? It was always the same issue, always. Laying claim on my time. Demanding things I could not, possibly, comply with. And I had enough of it. “If that’s what you want, fine. Go and find yourself a Polish guy who will be happy to be your trophy husband.”