Regenesis

by C. J. Cherryh

  “Sera has retired for the evening. We’re operating on our own discretion, on sera’s general instruction. We’ll inform sera in the morning. You won’t need to.”

  “And where is this new office?”

  “Downstairs, ground level, and a right turn from your apartment. More convenient, and a better office, I believe. There’s room for staff. But it will be Wing One-approved staff.”

  Yanni Schwartz didn’t maintain an office in that high-security territory. He had one, already, a cubbyhole he used for Ari’s lessons. Downstairs—those rooms—they had a historic connection with the old Wing One lab, where the first Ari had died. That lab had been decommissioned now. And he didn’t know how up to date the offices in that area were, these days, whether they were still tied into System. But Florian said their computers were coming over. They must be.

  “Do go on, ser,” Florian said. “You’re chilled. Good night to you.”

  “Thank you,” he said, and started on his way, Grant attending without a word.

  Then he thought of Jordan’s card in his pocket, wondered, all in a rush, what sort of trouble he could bring down on Jordan’s head; and considered the fact that Florian hadn’t asked him for it.

  Florian didn’t know? Something had slipped past Ari’s staff? It had been a surreptitious handoff.

  But Reseune Security surely knew. Florian might let him go his way. But someone inside Ari’s wing might confront him yet.

  Maybe Catlin. Maybe, worse thought, someone he didn’t know, out of ReseuneSec, and that was more trouble than he wanted. He’d been fluxed by the office matter. He had an excuse for having forgotten.

  But an azi of Florian’s bent didn’t flux. Not for two seconds running. Florian damned well hadn’t forgotten it.

  He stopped, turned, reached into his pocket. Pulled out the thin card. “Florian.”

  Florian had walked the other direction—was a diminished figure in the dark. But he heard, and stopped.

  “I’ll take it to him,” Grant said.

  He surrendered it without a word. Grant knew. Grant had seen Jordan’s action. Grant knew his reasoning the way Grant knew their situation from the inside out.

  Grant crossed the dark distance between them, delivered the card, and walked back again. Florian stood there a moment, until Grant reached him, took the card, then turned and pursued his way back to Admin, where they had come from, and maybe on to the Education Wing beyond it, where their office was—or had been.

  “Damn,” he said when Grant joined him. “Damn it. Grant.”

  “Do you know what was on the card?” Grant asked.

  “I haven’t the faintest, It may be a joke, for all I know. I don’t want to know. Damn him!”

  “I intend to evade Jordan’s company, in private,” Grant said. “I’m relatively confident I could, even if we shared an office. But it seems the question is settled for now.”

  “Settled,” Justin found himself saying, and realized it was impossible the second the word came out of his mouth. “It isn’t settled—not with him. Whatever quarrel he had with his Ari isn’t mine. It wasn’t my choice to support young Ari against him. But—”

  “But?”

  “He’ll keep it going. And maybe he’s justified. Maybe he’s pure and right and just my living here put me on the other side. I’ve missed him all these years. But here I am, living on the other side, in her wing, working in her wing…”

  “A different Ari. A very different Ari.”

  “We don’t know how different she’ll become, as time passes.”

  “Even azi,” Grant said, “aren’t identical.”

  “But her interests are the same as the first Ari’s.”

  “The people who pursued us are dead.”

  “And all being reincarnated.” He reached the door. And stopped there, in the wind and the dark, in the last haven before they went into heavily monitored Wing One. “Maybe that concept ought to bother me more than it does.”

  “You think that constitutes Jordan’s motive in this? That he believes she’ll eventually become his enemy?”

  “I think it’s personal. I think it’s him against Ari. All the traits that make her and him. My immortality—if they do that to us—won’t be his. I don’t know if he’ll see it that way, but we’re not, thank God, psychological twins. I’m myself. I’m the first of myself. The only.”

  “I understand that,” Grant said, who was also the first and only of his kind…so far.

  “Thinking about it makes me a little crazy.”

  “You’re not crazy. Your actions have been completely logical, given the flux.”

  “Including giving her security that card? Jordan’s going to land in trouble for it, and I set him up for it.”

  “No. He set you up for it. You simply returned the favor.”

  Cool, clear, utterly reasonable. He shivered in the cold wind. “Sometimes I don’t understand him. I just don’t understand him. Or I don’t want to.”

  “Your father is intelligent. He is capable of staying out of trouble. He simply declines to do that.”

  “And it’s what you always said. CITs have their logic sets installed late. Emotions on the bottom, logic on the top. Sometimes it’s a complete bitch-up.”

  “Apparently.”

  “I wish I could talk to him. Damn, I wish I could talk to him. Sensibly. Logically. You see how it goes. You saw how it went Sunday night.”

  A moment passed. “I have a question.”

  “Ask.”

  “Should we be physically afraid of him?”

  He had to think about that. There was one fair answer, one answer that would protect both of them. “Yes,” he said, and slid his apartment key-card into the outside door lock. The door opened, letting them into the foyer for a dozen other id programs to work over. “Maybe we should be.”

  BOOK ONE Section 1 Chapter xi

  APRIL 25, 2424

  2039H

  Justin and Grant had reached their apartment. The door shut and locked. The light on the console showed green, safe. They were in, and their conversation on the way had been scant, and worried. Tracking had flicked from one station to the next, and surveillance had been hard pressed to keep up with the two parties, homeward bound in opposite directions.

  Justin and Grant weren’t the problem. Jordan was. And he, with Paul, had gone home, too, talking about Library access and his intention of calling Yanni Schwartz in the morning.

  Catlin flicked a switch, passing the watch back to the senior Reseune-Sec team that watched over Wing One, entry by entry, movement by movement. Florian was on his way back. So was Marco, from Education, having ascertained that Jordan had made no detours.

  She and Florian had one paramount interest in their action tonight: protecting Ari, which was to say, keeping certain individuals away from An, tracking the activities and interactions of absolutely everyone who even casually crossed into her security zone.

  Secondary was protecting Justin. That was sera’s explicit and standing order. And third priority was a general and constant surveillance: keeping abreast of a list of individuals outside Reseune whose whereabouts and safety could impact Reseune’s operations. ReseuneSec, under Security Director Hicks, had numerous agents solely dedicated to that purpose, and that office informed them of what Hicks deemed necessary to tell them.

  But, occasionally crossing Hicks’s office—they had their own watch-list of troublesome individuals inside Reseune. It wasn’t the first time they’d mounted their own surveillance, no matter what Hicks did or didn’t do—as tonight, when Hicks had wanted to bug the restaurant; but they had done it themselves, told Hicks to stay out, and fed the information to Hicks as it came available…promising that, for Hicks’s promise to stand back.

  Yanni’s coming for dinner in Wing One, for instance, aroused no particular alarms. The Director’s contacts, the ones he himself chose, were either clean, or they were obligations he dealt with for ascertainable reasons, even if sera had been a
ngry with him for matters she’d declined to mention to them. Yanni came into Wing One with no large security contingent, and sent no orders to Hicks. But she and Wes had been in position. If sera had indicated Yanni should be detained or otherwise dealt with, it would have happened, and a very specific code would have flashed to Florian, triggering yet other actions, as best they could manage, as fast as they could manage.

  But there had been no such outcome. Yanni’s companion azi, Frank AF, shadowed Yanni everywhere, as closely and as obsessively as they followed Ari. Frank was out of green barracks, like themselves, and while Frank was, like Yanni, a little reticent on Yanni’s personal business, he was certainly a solid type, and absolutely loyal, not only to Yanni, but to the entity Yanni served—which was Reseune itself. So Frank was a watch-it, but no great worry.

  What clustered around Justin Warrick, however, was a different matter, and dealing with him was not simple. Justin and Grant had not a single close contact except Yanni that they did trust on that level. It was a constant worry that those two personally had sera’s clearance, residing right next door. But sera maintained they were important to her and insisted that they were securely hers—so they took measures, sera being unavailable for consultation. They had had to improvise tonight and move fast, and in such a way that what they did could be amended, if sera ordered.

  That move was underway, via their access to specialized housekeeping over in Admin, which was intended, perhaps, for Ari’s own use. They used it. And it had made Justin Warrick a special problem, Justin and Grant constituting a pair that were supposed to be free to come and go as they chose, but who also had to be protected against certain decidedly unsafe contacts…notably, henceforward, Jordan Warrick. Jordan Warrick was number one on the watch-it list, until sera countermanded that, and by what they heard tonight, they were right. Right now Jordan Warrick was in the same category with a handful of azi who had worked closely with Denys and Giraud Nye, and who ought not to be admitted to the administrative wings.

  Jordan Warrick did come and go as he pleased, inside Admin and Education, and was only restricted in Library and completely barred from Wing One—a situation which greatly offended him. Justin thought he’d go straight over to Yanni in the morning, complaining, and that would be a disturbance, perhaps provoking an Intervention from Yanni. So things that had happened tonight might grow more complicated in the morning.

  They would have to brief sera, once she waked—about the late supper, the meeting, and their preemptive action, and it seemed at least likely she would approve. Sera had previously discussed moving Justin out of convenient range of Jordan. The office Justin and Grant used, previously Jordan’s, had never been outstandingly secure: the staff lacked adequate clearance for reasons of inadequate security training—that situation, exposing Justin to hazard, had never been to their liking, and now they had found an excuse to solve the problem. Catlin personally hoped they had solved it in some lasting fashion. And personally hoped, too, that they could manage something to be rid of Jordan Warrick, even if sera had brought him here.

  Florian arrived back in the wing: Catlin noted the flash of ID on the readout as the outer door opened and shut. She sat and waited, checking the monitors. So was a ReseuneSec squad down in Main Security watching, on nightshirt. Hicks’s eyes were technically on the job, but Hicks himself would be abed, his second-in-command Kyle AK probably on duty—and, being azi, Kyle AK would theoretically be accounting for his decisions to Hicks in the morning. Which would give them time, if sera slept late, to inform sera before their actions began to racket through several systems.

  Second flash from the console. Florian had deactivated and reactivated the alarm within System as he entered the apartment.

  Soft footsteps outside. Florian arrived in the security office doorway, came in, and disposed himself in a chair, booted feet propped luxuriantly in the neighboring seat. He held up a small card between two fingers.

  “What is it?” Catlin had seen the handoff—both handoffs.

  “A business card. A contact number in Novgorod.” He spun around in the chair, touched a few buttons, put the card in the visual scanner…not the reader, sensible caution, for a card with a reader strip. He looked at the screen, punched more buttons, and retrieved the card. “A professor in Novgorod University. And the card wasn’t printed on any Reseune printer.”

  “An educator. Jordan works education tape.”

  “We’ll investigate the number on the card—I’m sure Jordan wants us to. Or wants Hicks to. Maybe Jordan’s trying to lead the investigation astray or get someone else in trouble.”

  A Novgorod address, from the hand of a man who had no recent contacts outside Planys and Reseune.

  Justin, too, had not quite promptly turned it over to sera’s security. But there was that connection to Jordan, a born-man connection, emotional, and difficult to parse. Catlin afforded him a little latitude for that, but not too much.

  “We aren’t likely to understand this,” Catlin said. “It seems unreasonable on Jordan’s part. It seems unlikely for him to have such a thing, unless he received it from someone in Reseune.”

  “It seems we’ve moved Justin none too soon. Jordan’s action toward Justin seems to be an aggression.”

  “Justin knew he was watched. But so did Jordan. Did Justin forget the card when he met you, do you think, or did it take him a moment to make up his mind?”

  “Surrendering it would betray Jordan,” Florian said. “That may have taken a moment for him to decide.”

  “But Justin knew he was watched. He knew in advance he would be stopped.”

  “He could guess he would be stopped, and the end would be the same, whether he turned it over to me, or whether ReseuneSec asked for it. Perhaps he wasn’t thinking of that yet. He’d just argued with Jordan.”

  “Perhaps Jordan wanted him to be stopped, to make him angry with Admin.”

  “Possible.”

  “Neither of them is stupid,” Catlin said.

  “The same geneset. One won’t easily get the better of the other. But Jordan has lost something tonight. Justin won’t be in his reach. He won’t like that. I wonder if this card is worth it.”

  “How did Justin seem?”

  “You heard the exchange.”

  “I didn’t see Justin’s face.”

  “He expressed distress at disturbance to his work—which I’m sure he knows is being copied. He showed no particular reluctance to be separated from Jordan. He had warned Grant to avoid being alone with Jordan.”

  “I heard that part. He thought there was a physical danger. To Grant, did he mean, or to him?”

  “To Grant, likely. But anything that would harm Grant would harm him. They’re partners.”

  “No choice but get them out tonight,” she said with a shake of her head. “Well that we did it. Can Section Three handle the transfer top to bottom? Will they bring it over in time, or do we have to go through Hicks’s office?”

  “They indicate yes, they will. I put it through as an emergency. I think that’s accurate. They’ll tell Hicks in the morning, likely. Hicks will get the copies they make in Justin’s office. I’m not happy about Hicks’s access, but the alternative is much worse. Meanwhile we need to put through Justin’s address change. Inside sera’s wing he won’t be having his files copied again.”

  “Easily done.” She spun her chair about, her fingers flew for a moment, and she sent, registering Justin Warrick’s new office address with Yanni’s office and incidentally with ReseuneSec.

  That handled details that might have inconvenienced Justin in the morning—just to keep him calm in the transfer. For Jordan Warrick’s imminent inconvenience, or state of mind in the morning, she had no great concern at all.

  One thing did worn her. “Sera’s papers are in that safe.”

  “Not now.” Florian said. “Marco took them before Section Three could arrive. They’ll be in the office sera uses.”

  They trusted no one completely, she
and Florian…and that, on certain levels, meant they didn’t trust Hicks’s office, or Yanni’s, to run things, or to hold information that might bear on Ari’s security. Their predecessors had failed, by all outside accounts, and died—deservedly so, because they had let their Ari die, and let Denys Nye take over Reseune. They took that event as a personal failure, a fault committed by their genesets, and they were absolutely determined to better the record in their tenure. They were not about to lose their Ari to Jordan Warrick—if it had been Jordan that murdered Ari One, as the public records officially said had happened…though that certainly wasn’t the whole story, and sera agreed they had had every reason to blame Denys Nye’s staff for the crime.

  It didn’t matter. Denys Nye and his personal guard were dead and past. They guarded against Jordan, knowing he could have killed the first Ari—that he had wanted to kill her, that was the salient point. They didn’t altogether understand Jordan Warrick: his actions sat deep in a very complex CIT psychology, a man so brilliant he was a Special, all but immune to the law. Sera said the long exile had made him angry, and the focus of that anger might be her existence, which had defined the term of his exile.

  For their part, not understanding the man simply meant being on their guard against him. And they constantly were.

  They didn’t understand Justin Warrick, either, though they knew him better—knew, for instance, that Justin Warrick had initially welcomed his father back to Reseune, and had disagreements with him. Justin himself had not been the one to apply for Jordan’s release from detention. It had been, in fact, sera herself who had brought Jordan back from exile, which brought a very dangerous man back into a place where he could be more dangerous, in their estimation. But sera had moved fast to get Jordan out of military reach, and out of the reach of any dissident attempt to contact him. There was a leak in Planys: they knew that. A leak could turn into an access for all sorts of mischief, from assassination to rescue: sera had been right.

  But letting Jordan stay in Reseune now that things were tranquil had taken turns into CIT politics: a decision on sera’s part, possibly to avoid upsetting Justin.