The Year's Best Science Fiction - Thirty-Third Annual Collection

by Gardner Dozois

  But they were just a month into life with the baby, and they knew that any more children would take a focus that, at the moment at least, Paavo’s needs wouldn’t allow.

  Deshin reached the bottom of the stairwell, ran a hand through his hair, and then walked through the double doors. His staff kept the detective in the lobby.

  She was immediately obvious, even though she wasn’t in uniform. A slightly disheveled woman with curly black hair and a sharp, intelligent face, she wasn’t looking around like she was supposed to be.

  Most new visitors to Deshin Enterprises either pretended to be unimpressed with the real marble floors, the imported wood paneling, and the artwork that constantly shifted on the walls and ceiling. Or the visitors gaped openly at all of it.

  This detective did neither. Instead, she scanned the people in the lobby—all staff, all there to guard him and keep an eye on her.

  She would be difficult. He could tell that just from her body language. He wasn’t used to dealing with someone from the Armstrong Police Department who was intelligent and difficult to impress.

  He walked toward her, and as he reached her, he extended his hand.

  “Detective,” he said warmly. “I’m Luc Deshin.”

  She wiped her hands on her stained shirt, and just as he thought she was going to take his hand in greeting, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her ill-fitting black pants.

  “I know who you are,” she said.

  She deliberately failed to introduce herself, probably as a power play. He could play back, ask to see the badge chip embedded in the palm of her hand, but he didn’t feel like playing.

  She had already wasted enough of his time.

  So he took her name, Noelle DeRicci, from the building’s security records, and declined to look at her service record. He had it if he needed it.

  “What can I do for you then, Detective?” He was going to charm her, even if that took a bit of strength to ignore the games.

  “I’d like to speak somewhere private,” she said.

  He smiled. “No one is near us, and we have no recording devices in this part of the lobby. If you like, we can go outside. There’s a lovely coffee shop across the street.”

  Her eyes narrowed. He watched her think: did she ask to go to his office and get denied, or did she just play along?

  “The privacy is for you,” she said, “but okay.…”

  She sounded dubious, a nice little trick. A less secure man would then invite her into the office.

  Deshin waited. He learned that middle managers—and that was what detectives truly were—always felt the press of time. He never had enough time for anything and yet, as the head of his own corporation, he also had all the time in the universe.

  “I’m here about Sonja Mycenae,” she said.

  Sonja. The nanny he had fired just that morning. Well, fired wasn’t an accurate term. He had deliberately avoided firing her. He had eliminated her position.

  He and Gerda had decided that Sonja wasn’t affectionate enough toward their son. In fact, she had seemed a bit cold toward him. And once Deshin and Gerda started that conversation about Sonja’s attitudes, they realized they didn’t like having someone visit their home every day, and they didn’t like giving up any time with Paavo.

  Both Gerda and Deshin had worried, given their backgrounds, that they wouldn’t know how to nurture a baby, but Sonja had taught them that training mattered a lot less than actual love.

  “I understand she works for you,” the detective said.

  “She worked for me,” he said.

  Something changed in the detective’s face. Something small. He felt uneasy for the first time.

  “Tell me what this is about, Detective,” he said.

  “It’s about Sonja Mycenae,” she repeated.

  “Yes, you said that. What exactly has she done?” he asked.

  “Why don’t you tell me why she no longer works for you,” the detective said.

  “My wife and I decided that we didn’t need a nanny for our son. I called Sonja to the office this morning, and let her know that, effective immediately, her employment was terminated through no fault of her own.”

  “Do you have footage of that conversation?” the detective asked.

  “I do, and it’s protected. You’ll need permission from both of us or a warrant before I can give it to you.”

  The detective raised her eyebrows. “I’m sure you can forgo the formalities, Mr. Deshin.”

  “I’m sure that many people do, Detective,” he said, “however, it’s my understanding that an employee’s records are confidential. You may get a warrant if you like. Otherwise, I’m going to protect Sonja’s privacy.”

  “Why would you do that, Mr. Deshin?”

  “Believe it or not, I follow the rules.” He managed to say that without sarcasm.

  The detective grunted as if she didn’t believe him. “What made you decide to terminate her position today?”

  “I told you,” Deshin said, keeping his voice bland even though he was getting annoyed. “My wife and I decided we didn’t need a nanny to help us raise our son.”

  “You might want to share that footage with me without wasting time on a warrant, Mr. Deshin,” the detective said.

  “Why would I do that, Detective? I’m not even sure why you’re asking about Sonja. What has she done?”

  “She has died, Mr. Deshin.”

  The words hung between them. He frowned. The detective had finally caught him off guard.

  For the first time, he did not know how to respond. He probably needed one of his lawyers here. Any time his name came up in an investigation, he was automatically the first suspect.

  But in this case, he had nothing to do with Sonja’s death. So he would act accordingly, and let the lawyers handle the mess.

  “What happened?” he asked softly.

  He had known Sonja since she was a child. She was the daughter of a friend. That was one of the many reasons he had hired her, because he had known her.

  Even then, she hadn’t turned out as expected. He remembered an affectionate happy girl. The nanny who had come to his house didn’t seem to know how to smile at all. There had been no affection in her.

  And when he last saw her, she’d been crying and pleading with him to keep her job. He actually had to have security drag her out of his office.

  “We don’t know what happened,” the detective said.

  That sentence could mean a lot. It could mean that they didn’t know what happened at all or that they didn’t know if her death was by natural causes or by murder. It could also mean that they didn’t know exactly what or who caused the death, but that they suspected murder.

  Since he was facing a detective and not a beat officer, he knew they suspected murder.

  “Where did it happen?” Deshin asked.

  “We don’t know that either,” the detective said.

  He snapped, “Then how do you know she’s dead?”

  Again, that slight change in the detective’s face. Apparently he had finally hit on the correct question.

  “Because workers found her in a waste crate in a warehouse outside the dome.”

  “Outside the dome…?” That didn’t make sense to him. Sonja hadn’t even owned an environmental suit. She had hated them with a passion. “She died outside the dome?”

  “I didn’t say that, Mr. Deshin,” the detective said.

  He let out a breath. “Look, Detective, I’m cooperating here, but you need to work with me. I saw Sonja this morning, eliminated her position, and watched her leave my office. Then I went to work. I haven’t gone out of the building all day.”

  “But your people have,” the detective said.

  He felt a thin thread of fury, and he suppressed it. Everyone assumed that his people murdered other people according to some whim. That simply was not true.

  “Detective,” he said calmly. “If I wanted Sonja dead, why would I terminate her employment this morning?
”

  “I have only your word for that,” the detective said. “Unless you give me the footage.”

  “And I have only your word that she’s dead,” he said.

  The detective pressed her hands together, then separated them. A hologram appeared between them—a young woman, looking as if she had fallen asleep in a meadow. Until he looked closely, and saw that the “meadow” was bits of food, and the young woman’s eyes were open and filmy.

  It was Sonja.

  “My God,” he said.

  “If you give me the footage,” the detective said, “and it confirms what you say, then you’ll be in the clear. If you wait, then we’re going to assume it was doctored.”

  Deshin glared at her. She was good—and she was right. The longer he waited, the less credibility he would have.

  “I’m going to consult with my attorneys,” he said. “If they believe that this information has use to you and it doesn’t cause me any legal liabilities, then you will receive it from them within the hour.”

  The detective crossed her arms. “I suggest that you send it to me now. I will promise you that I will not look at anything until you or your attorneys say that I can.”

  It was an odd compromise, but one that would protect him. If she believed he would doctor the footage, then having the footage in her possession wouldn’t harm him.

  But he didn’t know the laws on something this arcane.

  “How’s this, Detective,” he said. “My staff will give you a chip with the information on it. You may not put the chip into any device or watch it until I’ve consulted with my attorneys. You will wait here while I do so.”

  “Seems fine to me,” the detective said. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”

  * * *

  She didn’t, of course. DeRicci was probably getting all kinds of messages on her links from Lake and Gumiela and Broduer and everyone else, telling her she was stupid or needed or something.

  She didn’t care. She certainly wasn’t going to turn her links back on. She was close to something.

  She had actually surprised the Great Luc Deshin, Criminal Mastermind.

  He pivoted, and moved three steps away from her. He was clearly contacting someone on his links, but using private encoded links.

  A staff member approached, a woman DeRicci hadn’t seen before. The woman, dressed in a black suit, extended a hand covered with gold rings.

  “If you’ll come this way, Detective DeRicci…”

  DeRicci shook her head. “Mr. Deshin promised me a chip. I’m staying here until I get it.”

  The woman opened her other hand. In it was a chip case the size of a thumbnail. The case was clear, and inside, DeRicci saw another case—blue, with a filament thinner than an eyelash.

  “Here is your chip, Detective,” the woman said. “I’ve been instructed to take you—”

  “I don’t care,” DeRicci said. “I’ll take the chip, and I’ll wait right here. You have my word that I won’t open either case, and I won’t watch anything until I get the okay.”

  The woman’s eyes glazed slightly. Clearly, she was seeing if that was all right.

  Then she focused on DeRicci, and bowed her head slightly.

  “As you wish, Detective.”

  She handed DeRicci the case. It was heavier than it looked. It probably had a lot of protections built in, so that she couldn’t activate anything through the case.

  Not that she had the technical ability to do any of that, even if she wanted to.

  She sighed. She had a fluttery feeling that she had just been outmaneuvered.

  Then she made herself watch Deshin. He seemed truly distressed at the news of Sonja Mycenae’s death. If DeRicci had to put money on it, she would say that he hadn’t known she was dead and he hadn’t ordered the death.

  But he was also well known for his business acumen, his criminal savvy, and his ability to beat a clear case against him. A man didn’t get a reputation like that by being easy to read.

  She closed her fist around the chip case, clasped her hands behind her back, and waited, watching Luc Deshin the entire time.

  * * *

  Deshin hadn’t gone far. He wanted to keep an eye on the detective. He’d learned in the past that police officers had a tendency to wander, and observe things they shouldn’t.

  He had staff in various parts of the lobby to prevent the detective from doing just that.

  Through private, encoded links, he had contacted his favorite attorney, Martin Oberholtz. For eight years, Oberholtz had managed the most delicate cases for Deshin—always knowing how far the law could bend before it broke.

  Before I tell you what to do, Oberholtz was saying on their link, I want to see the footage.

  It’ll take time, Deshin sent.

  Ach, Oberholtz sent. I’ll just bill you for it. Send it to me.

  I already have, Deshin sent.

  I’ll be in contact shortly, Oberholtz sent, and signed off.

  Deshin walked to the other side of the lobby. He didn’t want to vanish because he didn’t want the detective to think he was doing something nefarious.

  But he was unsettled. That meeting with Sonja had not gone as he expected.

  Over the years, Deshin had probably fired two hundred people personally, and his staff had fired even more. And that didn’t count the business relationships he had terminated.

  Doing unpleasant things didn’t bother him. They usually followed a pattern. But the meeting that morning hadn’t followed a pattern that he recognized.

  He had spoken quite calmly to Sonja, telling her that he and Gerda had decided to raise Paavo without help. He hadn’t criticized Sonja at all. In fact, he had promised her a reference if she wanted it, and he had complimented her on the record, saying that her presence had given him and Gerda the confidence to handle Paavo alone.

  He hadn’t said that the confidence had come from the fact that Sonja had years of training and she missed the essential ingredient—affection. He had kept everything as neutral and positive as possible, given that he was effectively firing her without firing her.

  Midway through his little speech, her eyes widened. He had thought she was going to burst into tears. Instead, she put a shaking hand to her mouth, looking like she had just received news that everything she loved in the world was going to be taken away from her.

  He had a moment of confusion—had she actually cared that much about Paavo?—and then he decided it didn’t matter; he and Gerda really did want to raise the boy on their own, without any outside help.

  “Mr. Deshin,” Sonja had said when he finished. “Please, I beg you, do not fire me.”

  “I’m not firing you, Sonja,” he had said. “I just don’t have a job for you any longer.”

  “Please,” she said. “I will work here. I will do anything, the lowest of the low. I will do jobs that are disgusting or frightening, anything, Mr. Deshin. Please. Just don’t make me leave.”

  He had never had an employee beg so strenuously to keep her job. It unnerved him. “I don’t have any work for you.”

  “Please, Mr. Deshin.” She reached for him and he leaned back. “Please. Don’t make me leave.”

  That was when he sent a message along his links to security. This woman was crazy, and no one on his staff had picked up on it. He felt both relieved and appalled. Relieved that she was going nowhere near Paavo again, and appalled that he had left his beloved little son in her care.

  The door opened, and then Sonja screamed “No!” at the top of her lungs. She grabbed at Deshin, and one of his security people pulled her away.

  She kicked and fought and screamed and cried all the way through the door. It closed behind her, leaving him alone, but he could still hear her yelling all the way to the elevator.

  The incident had unsettled him.

  It still unsettled him.

  And now, just a few hours later, Sonja was dead.

  That couldn’t be a coincidence.

  It couldn’t
be a coincidence at all.

  * * *

  It took nearly fifteen minutes before Luc Deshin returned. DeRicci had watched him pace on the other side of the lobby, his expression grim.

  It was still grim when he reached her.

  He nodded at the chip in her hand. “My staff tells me that you have a lot of information on that chip. In addition to the meeting in my office, you’ll see Sonja’s arrival and her departure. You’ll also see that she left through that front door. After she disappeared off our external security cameras, no one on my staff saw her again.”

  He was being very precise. DeRicci figured his lawyer had told him to do that.

  “Thank you,” she said, closing her fingers around the case. “I appreciate the cooperation.”

  “You’re welcome,” Deshin said, then walked away.

  She watched him go. Something about his mood had darkened since she originally spoke to him. Because of the lawyer? Or something else?

  It didn’t matter. She had the information she needed, at least for the moment.

  She would deal with Deshin later if she needed to.

  * * *

  Deshin took the stairs back to his office. He needed to think, and he didn’t want to run into any of his staff on the elevator. Besides, exercise kept his head clear.

  He had thought Sonja crazy after her reaction in his office. But what if she knew her life was in danger if she left his employ? Then her behavior made sense.

  He wasn’t going to say that to the detective, nor had he mentioned it to his lawyer. Deshin was going to investigate this himself.

  As he reached the top floor, he sent a message to his head of security, Otto Koos: My office. Now.

  Deshin went through the doors and stopped, as he always did, looking at the view. He had a 360-degree view of the City of Armstrong. Right now, the dome was set at Dome Daylight, mimicking midday sunlight on Earth. He loved the look of Dome Daylight because it put buildings all over the city in such clear light that it made them look like a beautiful painting or a holographic wall image.

  He crossed to his desk, and called up the file on Sonja Mycenae, looking for anything untoward, anything his staff might have missed.