by Isaac Asimov
Jeta grinned proudly. “But I did it. I found it all and reassembled it and put it into a package for the client. I was finishing it all up when I got a message on my comm that said, ‘If you deliver what you have, we will kill you.’ Very simple, very direct. Somehow, I didn’t think it was crank. We don’t get them often, but we do get threats, and there are procedures for dealing with them. I turned it over to my controller at the clearing house and delivered my package per our contract. When I got back to my hole I found a new message: ‘You were given fair warning.’ That’s all it said.”
“No signature?” Ariel asked. “No source?”
“That’s all it had to say, ‘cause it wasn’t the words that scared me, but the timing. I knew then I was being monitored–closely–and that my own system had been hacked.”
“Did you try to trace it?” Coren asked.
Jeta scowled. “Of course I did! It ate at me. I’ve been scared before, especially back when I started out, but this was different–this had an edge to it. After a couple of days and I was still scared, I started making plans to disappear. I did my accounts, added things up, and it looked like I could make it work. I reconfigured my system three times to purge the intruders, then made inquiries to emigrate. I always wanted to, anyway–it was one of my two or three top retirement options. This decided the issue for me.
“No way I’d get my assets through ITE. I’d have to go baley and smuggle what I could. Meantime, I just kept on as always, living my life, doing business like I always had, making no moves I’d never made before. No flags, no warnings, nothing to tell anyone that anything had changed. The final vetting came through Baltimor for the Petrabor Egress–that’s what they called it–and I started arranging everything to be ready to transfer at a heartbeat.
“Then you showed up with your request for data on the same baley group. I knew if I refused, you’d just use another troll and in the end it’d be the same result. I had to change my plans. I thought first maybe you were working for the gatos who’d threatened me. So I ran your profile. Imagine my surprise when I saw ‘Special Service’ pop up, then DyNan Manual Industries. What I saw, it didn’t make sense you’d be hunting down a troll for anybody.”
“I appreciate that,” Coren said with mock sincerity.
“That didn’t change anything. I couldn’t know what I’d find if I turned up for my ride out.”
“You might have asked me for help.”
Jeta shrugged. “Couldn’t. Not then.”
Coren nodded. “I understand.”
“Yes, well. So I left everything as it was, kept the arrangements intact, and made different plans. I did your job, handed over the data, and headed home to disappear. That’s when I was attacked. I got away by being just small enough for some crannies others can’t use.
“No one waited for me at my hole, so I cleaned up, packed my stash, and ran. I made plans to go to the Bering port. I don’t know how they figured that one, but the same gato found me at the tube in Lyzig.”
“How did you escape that time?” Ariel asked after a long silence.
“Screamed.” Jeta gave them a wan smile. “Too many people, too much attention. He walked away. I felt like a fool standing there in the middle of the platform yelling at the top of my lungs. But not so foolish I wouldn’t do it again if I had to. That’s when I decided to find Mr. Lanra here. I thought to myself, ‘He started all this, he can fix it:”
“I wish I could, Jeta,” Coren said. “I had no idea.”
“I saw that pretty quick–you weren’t part of those gatos trying to kill me. But you fouled up my egress. You drew attention to it. For all I knew, you were going to show up with immigration cops and arrest them all. I couldn’t take the chance. Now...” She swallowed loudly. “I want out, Mr. Lanra. I want away from Earth. I want my life. I’ll work for you till you can do all that for me.”
“I’ll try, Jeta. I can’t promise. I don’t even know who these people are. They hacked my system, too.”
Jeta blinked, her eyes moist. She nodded calmly and looked at Wenithal. “Who are you?”
“Forgive me, I’ve been remiss. I’m Ree Wenithal. This is my apartment.”
“Ah. Nice place.”
“Thank you.”
“Jeta.” Ariel leaned on the back of the sofa. “That job you did, the minutes... who was it for?”
“Umm... there’s a small matter of confidentiality involved. I’m not sure–”
“Someone is trying to kill you over those minutes,” Ariel said, her voice intensely reasonable. “I think it would be understandable for you to set confidentiality aside in this instance.”
Jeta nodded. “Yeah, well... it was an intermediary, you understand, but I checked into him before I accepted. The contract was from Myler Towne of Imbitek.”
Jeta claimed to be dead tired. Wenithal showed her into his bedroom and let her sleep. He went into the kitchen and returned with another cup of coffee. His hand shook slightly as he poured it.
Coren said nothing. He joined Ariel on the sofa and spoke quietly.
“That’s not Jeta,” he said.
“Then who is she?”
Coren shrugged. “Maybe we’ll find out. It’s interesting, though–Towne tried to hire me away from Looms. Someone tried to assassinate Towne. He doesn’t trust his own security anymore.”
Wenithal came back into the room and, cup in hand, sat down in a chair.
“Alda Mikels is being released from prison in a couple of days, “Ariel said.
“If you’re wondering if there’s a connection, I’ve been wondering that, too. But what would a disagreement between Mikels and Towne have to do with a bunch of baleys?”
“Perhaps,” Wenithal said ponderously, “the connection is sleeping in the next room.”
“Seems rather heavy-handed,” Ariel said, “to murder fifty innocent people just to get one. Especially after the thing you’re trying to prevent has already occurred.”
“You mean the delivery of the data she found?” Coren asked. “It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but... we have more murders to explain, though.”
“Brun’s,” Wenithal said. “Ms. Fromm said she went through the Baltimor District to set up her egress?”
“She said that, yes,” Ariel confirmed.
“Brun headed the ITE customs office in Baltimor, “Coren said. “But...”
“Ghost connections,” Wenithal said. “Implications, suggestions, hints–nothing solid. Except that Brun is dead.” He stared down at his coffee, eyes narrowed.
“Nyom had nothing to do with any of them,” Coren said.
“But her father did,” Ariel said. “Maybe Nyom’s mystery brother did, too.”
“Oh, definitely,” Wenithal said.
Coren looked at him. “When I told you Nyom had died, you said something about ‘both of them now: What did you mean?”
Wenithal scowled. “You heard that?”
“I cheat a lot,” Coren said. “You’re not denying it. What did you mean?”
“Rega Looms did have a child before Nyom. A son. A very sick son. A UPD.”
“I’ve heard that abbreviation before,” Ariel said, “but I’ve never been clear on what it means.”
“Untreatable Physiological Dysfunction,” Coren said.
“I know what it stands for. But what’s untreatable? Even if Terran medicine can’t deal with something, we have some agreements covering humanitarian aid. Spacer medicine is–”
“Unable to deal with these,” Wenithal said. “I’m not clear myself on what they are, but some of them are horrible. Most are just chronically debilitating illnesses; a good portion of them are transmissible. The only recourse is quarantine. Looms’ first child contracted one when he was barely a year old.”
“So it was institutionalized?”
“Had to be. The law. And it died shortly thereafter. I imagine it crushed him. It would me.”
“How did you come to know about it?” Coren asked.
“R
ega Looms was one of the principle investors in Nova Levis,” Wenithal explained. “A research firm established to take advantage of some of the first influxes of Spacer med tech. Everyone thought it would take off on the market, but it didn’t do well the first couple of years. Then, suddenly, it had almost unlimited cash flow.”
“Black market?” Ariel asked.
“Worse. It turned out to be the main channel for all those missing babies. We shut it down.”
“That’s not what the record says,” Coren pointed out. “Nova Levis was cleared and operated long after your investigation.”
“The record often disagrees with reality,” Wenithal said. “The truth was that too many important people had invested in it and too many of them had embarrassing connections with it. Very simple: We turned off the pipeline, told the public it was clear, and then put it on the market. We disassembled it without harming any of the major shareholders.”
“That must have been an impressive list of shareholders, “Ariel said.
“Oh, it was! You’d be shocked.”
“Looms divested early, though,” Coren said. “Quite some time before it closed.”
“I think he did it out of extreme disappointment. They couldn’t cure his child, so he wanted nothing to do with it. I can’t imagine how he must feel right now.”
“Why did you retire after all that?” Coren asked.
“Because I wasn’t finished and they weren’t going to let me finish. I traced the kidnappings to Nova Levis, but they were going somewhere. I thought it had to be offworld. To save those prominent citizens’ reputations, I was not allowed to follow the leads. I was feted, medaled, and promoted–and basically told to drop it. It ate at me till I couldn’t stand it anymore. I presented an ultimatum: either I’m allowed to pursue the case or I quit.” He raised his hands, palms up, and let them fall.
“You didn’t try to look into it yourself?”
“Not very aggressively. I was already known to those involved. I knew I wouldn’t be very effective.” Wenithal shook his head. “No, this was the only way: wait for someone new, with no attachments to the old case. We couldn’t go looking for anyone because that might set off alarms in all the wrong places.”
Coren turned all this over in his mind. It sounded just a bit glib, rehearsed, but that did not make it less true. To be sure, Ree Wenithal had been living with this for a long time. In his place, Coren believed he might have it well worked out by now.
But Coren found it unconvincing. It did not explain Wenithal’s connection to Brun Damik, or why Damik would go to Wenithal after Coren confronted him.
“Where was Nova Levis?” he asked.
“Hmm? Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, one of the undine enclaves. Um... Teluk Tolo, Indones Sector.”
“Maybe it would be worthwhile to take another look at it,” Coren said.
“It’s gone. There’s nothing there anymore, just a shell. It was all sold off. I think it was converted to a processing plant for raw materials or something.”
“You won’t mind if we try, will you?”
Wenithal sneered. “Don’t be sarcastic. I’m doing you a favor telling you any of this.”
“Of course,” Coren said. “You’re such a model citizen. If I had more time I’d be more polite about it.”
“Mr. Wenithal, “Ariel cut in, frowning at Coren, “you’re expecting trouble. Have you been followed?”
“Not that I know of, but they killed Brun. I’m next, logically. What would you think?”
“I think you should move somewhere safer.”
“And where might that be?”
“The Auroran embassy. I don’t think you can be gotten to there.”
“You think?”
“I don’t know what exactly we’re up against. Do you want me to lie and guarantee your safety?”
“We wouldn’t want you to do that. “Wenithal shook his head. “I’ve never run from a fight. Besides, it might look odd.”
“You’d look very odd crushed to death,” Coren said.
“Crushed?”
“Judging from the victims we’ve seen, it looks like crushing is the favored method.”
Wenithal considered that and shuddered. “I’ve never been to the Auroran embassy.” He shrugged. “If it would put your minds at ease...”
“I could always leave you here with Jeta,” Coren said then.
Wenithal frowned at him.
“How long have you known her?” Coren asked.
“I don’t–”
“Stop it. She didn’t follow me here. She came to see you.”
Wenithal laughed. “Why would a data troll want to see me?”
“I can’t think of a single reason. But she’s not a data troll. You were waiting for someone to show up tonight, someone you thought might kill you. So far, we’ve shown up, and Jeta Fromm has shown up. “Coren held up his hands. “Is there a mistake in my logic?”
“You’re guessing,” Wenithal said.
“So, do you stay here, or do we go to the Auroran Embassy?”
Wenithal sighed. “All of us?”
“I’m not letting Jeta–or whatever her name is–get away from us.”
“If she’s not Jeta,” Ariel said, “then who–?”
“I’m guessing a woman named Tresha,” Coren said. “You‘ve done business with her before, Mr. Wenithal. but I imagine you’ve never done any with her partner–Gamelin.”
Wenithal stared at Coren now with undisguised resentment. “Like I said, I’ve never been to the Auroran Embassy before.”
“If I’m right, getting there might be an interesting problem,” Coren said.
Ariel smiled at him. “Leave that part to me.”
Coren turned away, muttering under his breath, “I knew you were going to say that...”
Twenty
THE MORGUE WAS a bit cooler, though Derec wondered how much of that was simply psychosomatic illusion. He stood to one side, near the big entrance, while Sipha Palen and her chief forensic specialist, Baxin, went through the logs.
“Fifty-one,” Baxin said finally. He looked at Palen. “There were fifty-two when we brought them in here.”
“So a corpse got up when you weren’t looking and walked out?” Palen’s voice made everyone cringe.
Baxin shook his head, less intimidated than bewildered.
“Not only that,” Palen went on, “but it cleaned up its container and put it back in storage!” She wheeled around at the pair of security men nearby. “Didn’t anybody pay attention to the monitors? Nobody saw a thing out of the ordinary?”
Derec leaned back against the wall. The TBI agents stood nearby, looking slightly embarrassed on Palen’s behalf. But Derec could see the impatience in their faces.
Palen stopped herself before she continued her rant. With sudden and surprising calm, she said, “I want the monitor records gone over. I want to know when the dead got up and walked out.”
Her two officers, with evident relief, left quickly. Palen came up to the TBI agents.
“I’m disinclined to turn anything over to you,” she said, “but under the circumstances, maybe we can share resources. Avery here has been working on recovering the memory from that robot. If he succeeds, we’ll all know what happened. If you remove it now, all his work will be lost and you’ll be starting from scratch.”
“That’s not–” one of the agents began.
Halwor raised his hand and cut her off. “As you say, Chief Palen, ‘under the circumstances.’ “He looked at Derec. “How soon, Mr. Avery?”
“We were less than an hour away from the first recoveries when you showed up.”
“Then, let’s go see what you have.”
Rana was waiting for them when they arrived in the lab. She frowned upon seeing the TBI agents trailing behind Derec and Palen. She came forward, stopping right in front of Derec.
“Boss, we have a problem,” she said.
“Yes, I know. There’s a discrepancy in the bodycount.”
“Yes, there is. The robot is gone.”
It seemed to take a long time for the information to register. Derec stared at Rana. “What?”
“The DW-12... left.”
Derec pushed past her and entered the workstation. The pallet was empty, the cables all neatly removed and retracted into the diagnostic link.
“When–?”
“What happened, Avery?” Harwol asked. “What did you do with the robot?”
“Nothing. Obviously, I’ve been with you. Rana?”
Rana looked embarrassed. “I had some personal business to attend. When I came back, the unit was gone.”
“Thales?” Derec asked.
“Yes, Derec?”
“Where’s the DW-12?”
“At this precise moment, I do not know.”
“Did someone remove it?” Harwol demanded.
“No,” Thales said. “However, I have everything requested from it. I have organized the recovered memories and prepared them in a linear scroll for viewing.”
Derec, uncertain and nervous, sat down at the console. “The excavation is complete, then?”
“I have a complete document of the robot’s memory, Derec.”
The TBI agents looked uneasy.
“Um... any preferred mode of replay?”
“All options available, Derec.”
“Flatscreen and full auditory will be fine, Thales. “Derec turned to the gathered audience. “If you’ll all spread out along the blind, please, we can put this on a few screens and you can all see.”
“I want an explanation, Avery,” Harwol said. “That robot is evidence–”
“Maybe we should pay attention to the main question, “Palen said, “of what happened to those people.”
Harwol frowned, unmollifled, but he nodded curtly. “Very well.”
While they arranged themselves, Derec made sure the link was feeding to Ariel through Thales. He glanced back to see that everyone was ready.
“Okay, Thales,” he said, “let’s see what you have.”
