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Double Bait (Stone Blade Book 2)

Page 15

by James Cox


  "Quite a bit. Plus-plus." She indicated several metrics. "Initial iteration has roughly seventy percent of the structure. It's actually fairly standard, which isn't a surprise. I have good probables on eight false branches. One of them is probably the one we want."

  "Wait. Eight false branches and one isn't?"

  She half-smiled at this. "Exactly. In order to maximize the likelihood I assumed the false case on all of them. Next iteration we fold the low probables into these and see which one turns out to be the least false. Next iteration plus one we work on proving or disproving that one. If we can eliminate it solidly we fold it into the others and repeat."

  "Cryonic. If you show me your process maybe I can help."

  Robin half-frowned and shook her head. "I'll show you the process but it's probably faster if I do it. Will you form me some correlates?"

  He grinned in response. "Show me, lady. I'll make it happen!"

  They just finished a solid, low-error structure when Carl walked in. Robin tensed as he looked at her but he merely shed his shirt and walked into the fresher.

  "Trouble," asked Robert.

  "It's nothing," she replied quickly, keying in a stochastic sequencer.

  Robert lifted an eyebrow but said nothing. When Carl finished in the fresher he pulled on another shirt and sat beside them.

  "What do you have?"

  "Good, solid probables. Based on the data we slirped they went back to Echo Bend, unlikely given what I know, or they're on RimSpin, Landsrey's Refuge or Coral Prime." She highlited several metrics. "I'd say Refuge is the most likely."

  "Why?"

  "Because the main correlates are nearly four percent higher." She shifted under his stare. "I know it doesn't sound like much but given the error bounds it is significant."

  "Fair coin," he replied, "Have you thought about what I said?"

  "I have." She pulled all the emotion she could from her voice and face.

  "And?"

  Robert looked from her to Carl and back. "I do believe I missed something, for truth. Would either of you care to explain?"

  Robin opened her mouth then closed it. After a moment Carl began talking and Robin regretted her silence instantly. By him she sounded like an adolescent throwing a temper tantrum. A foolish and stubborn adolescent. Robert looked at her when Carl finished.

  "Well," he asked.

  "Oh, that's the sigma," she snapped. She took her 'sticks and headed to the balcony.

  Robin didn't turn around when the door opened behind her. Secore's moons hid behind small cloudlets, giving the city itself a bright-pastel paint. She felt someone beside her. Robert. He helped himself to a 'stick and waited.

  "He's a ruddy bastard. I wish they'd killed him!" The bitterness in her voice surprised even Robin.

  "I wish you hadn't said that," he said, "Robin, Carl's bloody good at what he does. I know you don't like him but we have to work together. As a team." Then, almost as an afterthought, "It's too late to back out now, luv."

  "What. You'd have to kill me if I tried to leave now?"

  Robert sighed. "Don't be melodramatic, Robin. Carl and I could just leave at any time. But, with the information you have we'd have to take steps to protect ourselves."

  That from Robert sent spikes of dread down her back. "Such as?"

  "Leaving enough traces for the CA to find you." The simple way he spoke left no doubt as to his veracity. "That along with enough evidence to keep you out of our way and to taint whatever you might tell them."

  Robin tried not to tremble at this. She had no doubt Robert could do everything he said, and without revealing himself or leaving any traces to the contrary. Easily. He gently turned her to face him.

  "I hoped I wouldn't have to tell you that, hon. I also most emphatically do not want to take those steps. I happen to like working with you and you've had a mighty raw turn at life. More ways than one. You also did a six-sigmas excellent job overcoming it, no blather. But Carl and I can't afford loose ends or unsettled details if we're going to finish what we have to do." He looked deep into her eyes. "Tell me you'll still help us and I'll believe it."

  "Of course I'll help you! That's why I came along, remember? Voluntarily!" The wetness in her eyes surprised Robin. "That doesn't change the fact that Carl is the lowest, slimiest, soggiest son of a whore on this whole sorry planet!"

  "He isn't always pleasant," said Robert agreeably, "but he also doesn't miss the mark when he aims."

  Robin felt a sudden hollow shock of betrayal as Robert ripped the world out from under her. "So you think he's right?!" Her jaw trembled. "Do you?"

  "What I think," said Robert, taking her hand gently, "is that you are brilliant, beautiful and very, very capable. What I think is that you will achieve any goal you set yourself, no matter how impossible it seems at the time. What I think is that you need to stop focusing your life on what you think is wrong with it and look at the wonderful totality of who you are. Anything less and you're doing yourself a horrible, tragic disservice."

  His words cut hard but the gentle certainty with which he spoke softened the blow. She turned away but he caught her chin and gently turned her back.

  "Now, lady. Look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong. If you can I'll tell Carl to his teeth that he was totally wrong and completely out of line."

  Robin opened her mouth and tried, hard, but the words wouldn't come out. Her jaw trembled and she took a breath but couldn't speak. Her mind yelled the words but her mouth refused to. The wetness in her eyes spilled out.

  Arms around her. A comfort. A friend.

  Robin finally let her feelings go.

  ***

  "Feel better now?"

  "Yeah. Thanks."

  Amazingly Robin spoke the truth. After the gale wracking her burned out Robert handed her a tissue. She smiled shakily and he returned it.

  "Ready for some data now," he asked.

  "Six sigmas solid!"

  Carl gave her an intense stare when she reentered the room. She turned away from it and sat at the terminal. She didn't tense visibly when he sat beside her. He pulled up her sleeve.

  "Well," he asked, tracing a scar.

  Moving as fast as she could Robin slapped his hand as hard as she could. Then she met his eyes with as much hatred as she could muster.

  "You are vile," she said, "You are a swine-raping bottomfeeder and you don't have the right to make me cry!"

  Robin's jaw dropped when Carl smiled. The expression absolutely did not fit his face yet still he smiled.

  "Cryonic," he said. Then he sat in his chair, reclined back, picked up a book and started reading.

  Robin immersed herself in data. Her mind felt clearer than it had in a long time. As she worked she turned a small part of her thought to what Robert said. And Carl. Their words still hurt but most of the pain came from the realization of just how rightly he spoke. And Carl. She began to analyze herself, her life, as she would a spool full of data. She didn't like a lot of what she found but with each such discovery came the path toward changing it. As the data on her terminal took form so did the resolve within her.

  The next morning Carl received a parcel. He tipped the bellhop, set the boxes on the bed and began unpacking them. When Robin looked up she saw three sets of inexpensive formal wear. Carl arrayed them carefully, spiffing and straightening them.

  "We're going to a play tonight," he said without looking up, "It's supposed to be a good one. Tickets weren't easy to find."

  "I don't suppose it's for fun," she said.

  This time he only half-smiled. Robin decided this looked almost natural. Almost.

  "It should be fun," he replied, "and it has some good reviews but no, it isn't just for fun. Several Rugger veeps will be there along with guests. I want some holos and I'd like to stick an ear on them."

  Robin nodded blandly but thrilled inwardly. Carl didn't normally give her information!

  "Besides which fact," added Robert with a grin, "I think we could use a break. Truth?
"

  Truth pure and pristine!

  Chapter 8. "Meat On My Plate"

  Robin wandered through the theater lobby, following Robert and Carl and trying not to look nervous. Her formal gown clashed with sloppychic and people stared. They stared politely but she still felt their eyes. Oddly that didn't bother her as much as the possibility of Everett's allies around her.

  Before long she spotted their targets for the evening. Carl warned her not to try to inveigle herself with them. Not that she planned it but Robert said, inoffensively, that he or Carl would do a much better job of it. Carl did give her a cheap holocaster; he told her to use it like a tourist.

  The lights dimmed and brightened twice. Robert took her arm and soon they found their seats. Before long she saw the Rugger party mingling and sitting in their box. A waiter appeared with a tray of drinks, made sure everyone had one and left.

  Carl! Robin gasped but Robert's hand on hers kept her reaction to that. He lifted an eyebrow and she smiled. He himself had several smaller holocasters he aimed casually but, she suspected, with great accuracy. After a while Carl joined them, himself again. When Robert looked at him he nodded microscopically.

  Robin thoroughly enjoyed the play. The actors were easily as good as their reviews and the play itself, a mystery, was better! During intermission Robin visited the fresher then stepped outside for a 'stick. She conversed with several strangers on the quality of the play and swapped opinions on the culprit and his motive.

  When the lights dimmed and Robin sat she realized just how much she'd enjoyed the evening so far.

  "I noticed you mingling," whispered Robert, "Good job."

  "Thanks. Shh..."

  After the play a fair portion of the crowd, including the Rugger party, walked across the plaza to a restaurant. Robert and Carl led her in that direction.

  "I told you it was the jilted lover," said Robin.

  "So I owe you a meal," replied Robert.

  "Indeed!"

  After due consideration Robin made an inexpensive selection. Between the appetizer and the main course Robert rose, ostensibly to buy a pack of drugsticks. He walked past the Rugger table and Robin almost thought she saw him drop something but Carl distracted her with a question. The food arrived just after he returned. He handed her the pack and they started eating.

  "That was delicious," said Robin, meaning it.

  Robert nodded and Carl leaned across the table.

  "Robin, do you see that man at the bar," he asked, "Black hair, dark eyes, short beard. Sitting at the end."

  "Yes," she replied after a quick glance.

  "Go ask him to buy you a drink."

  "What?!"

  "He's been looking at you most of the evening," said Robert, reaching over and straightening her collar and drape, "Ask him for a drink. Or not. Just start a conversation with him."

  "Practice," said Carl, "He'd probably take you home for the evening if you played it right." He spoke these words conversationally. "Not an option, for truth, but an excellent chance."

  Robin's stomach hollowed at the thought. She had no trouble seeing the challenge in Carl's eyes. He didn't think she would do it. Or could. No! He knew she wouldn't! She stood and walked casually to the bar. The man offered a timid smile that tinged with surprise when she returned it and walked toward him. He stood as she sat beside him.

  "Hi," she said. Flutterwings now filled the hollowness in her stomach. Numerous large ones.

  "Hi," he replied, "I'm Dan."

  "Sammi." With sudden inspiration Robin pulled out a 'stick. "Light?

  Dan fumbled with his pockets, finally producing a lighter.

  "Thanks," she said, "You see the play?" She felt Samantha settle over her.

  "Yes. It was outstanding."

  "Plus-plus. You figure out who did it?"

  "I thought it was the uncle."

  "Nak. Too obvious." She winked at him. "Don't embrace the obvious but don't ignore it either."

  "Good advice," smiled Dan, "Umm... I was wondering..."

  Robin felt her guts clench when his words trailed off. Then, inspiration again.

  "Wondering? I know a nice club across town. Hot tunez and some really pyro bash. You like primate?"

  "Ahh... Not really," he said, disappointed, "I was thinking of something more casual."

  Robin wrinkled her face. "Nak. That's vacuum." She offered a small smile." Well, thanks for the light. Stay cryo, spiker."

  Dan hid his feelings with obvious effort. "Slib. You too."

  ***

  "Are you sure that's him," asked Ferrel as Robin left.

  "Nine nine point nine," said Micah, "He's been with us since the pub crawl. I'm pretty sure he's not with Rugger since we didn't have a real connection to them before that."

  "You think he might be with Vinsley?"

  Micah shrugged.

  "If he is he's new or a bloody good actor. They're not saying anything unusual. Code?"

  "Possibly. If it is we don't know it and probably won't."

  "Truth. She's really working the part. Just turned him down like a pro."

  "That bothers me. You got some good holos of him?"

  "Plus-plus. She's coming back. If they swapped something they're both too ruddy good."

  ***

  "Well," asked Carl as she sat down.

  "Meat on my plate," she said. Then the words Samantha wouldn't think about twice sank into Robin. "Umm..."

  "Don't drop the part," said Carl, "It fits."

  ***

  The weak-chinned man watched Annette Macy walk away. He pocketed his lighter and finished his drink. She and her two companions rose and left shortly. He gave them a little time and followed suit. As he made his way back to his rooms he ticked off facts. He discarded some suppositions and formulated others. By the time he shut the door and removed his beard he had a report on his quarry. They returned to their hotel, as he surmised they would. No surprise there, they had accomplished their mission for the evening. He sat at a terminal and composed two short messages and one longer one.

  The room next door held a large array of terminals and other computer equipment. A youngish man sat at one, the floor around him littered with empty soda bulbs and food wrappers.

  "Got 'em," said the young man, still chewing, "Not doing much."

  "They won't. Not tonight and not from their room," replied the weak-chinned man, "Please dispatch these messages at once. Be ready to leave soon."

  ***

  Robin glanced around the starport main terminal building nervously. The keycard felt cool in her palm. She found the locker quickly and stuffed the bundles it contained into her handbag. Then, per instructions, she made her way to the closest fresher and once inside, claimed an empty stall.

  Several ladies chatted at the sinks while another finished a 'stick. Robin hung a small mirror inside the door, removed her ring pierces, scrubbed her face and rubbed antiseptic cream into the small holes. After that she applied a scrubber to her teeth. Then she pulled out a dye brush and ran it through her hair turning it a deep, light-absorbing black. She didn't like the effect, she thought her hair too short for it, but she did look very different.

  Now bereft of sloppychic she shed her too-revealing clothes, rolled them into a tight bundle and donned the ones from her handbag. She dumped the old clothes, brushes and other detritus into the toilet along with a capsule Robert gave her. Before long it held nothing but a thick, discolored goo and the now-unplated jewelry. She flushed twice and all traces vanished.

  The two ladies at the sink still chattered away so she sat back down, lit a 'stick and waited.

  Finally out of the fresher Robin wandered purposefully through the building, seemingly interested in every hologo or tourist shop on her path. When she reached a specific concourse she sat, lit a 'stick and waited.

  Carl and Robert didn't keep her long. Hair now a dark red, Robert hummed and bobbed his head to the beat of the small, cheap music player he wore. Carl, hair brown and even sh
orter, walked as if he wanted to rest between steps.

  "Wow," she said.

  "Attitude," drawled Carl, flopping down beside her. He produced a battered 'stick of his own, looked at it a while and finally lit it. "It's as much a part as the rest. Just ask Samantha. You look glad to be different now."

  "I am," she said sweetly.

  Robert started drumming his fingers to the beat on the armrest between him and Robin.

  "That could be annoying very quickly," she said.

  "Cryonic," he said, increasing the tempo.

  "Any complications?" Carl wove the words into a yawn.

  "Two chatty ladies at the sink," she replied, "Other than that, no. Obviously I found the bag, yes I dissolved everything, yes I dumped the rings and brushes and yes, I flushed."

  "Polar."

  Robin settled in the ship's departure lounge between Robert and Carl. Her ID read 'Tracy Goldwine' and Robert promised her a bio later. The ship rose from Salva Secore as from Echo Bend and she again enjoyed it. Though this ship was smaller and not nearly as fancy she still liked it. Mentally she promised herself a trip to somewhere, someday when she could afford it and enjoy it.

  When Robin entered her cabin she found a large wardrobe befitting Tracy Goldwine. Casual outfits made up the majority of it with a few fancy formal selections as well, all of them professional and businesslike. A quick glance showed neither hotfash nor dinotogs and even the skimpiest Robin saw still provided ample coverage.

  "Hey, lady." Robert walked in. "Care for some reading?"

  "But of course."

  He handed her a spool. "Dinner's in four hours and we want to be on time for it."

  Tracy Goldwine, born on Altoriorre, went to school on Salva Secore and settled there to work. She made her career at a local company, Salva Secure, handling inventory transfer and occasional audits. She received average job appraisals with a few commendations occurring at long intervals. Goldwine herself was as mundane as her record. She graduated college but only just. No social or extracurricular activities, no academic citations and only one semester with low grades.

  Robin shook her head at this. Mentally she visualized Goldwine as boring beyond belief. She'd have a nice but affordable apartment with perfect furniture that saw little use and only enough net to read her email or a newsmod. She had no interests outside work and a life cast into a titanium mold. Her friends, Ralph Waters - Carl - and Jake Lowe stretched back to her college days. Ralph, who flunked two semesters and quit, had a gift for machines that pulled him away from college and through a series of nothing jobs until she suggested him for her company's vehicle pool. Ralph, who she'd never dated but enjoyed spending time with, made a name for himself as a decent holographer and amateur musician. After Robin learned her story she started work on theirs.

 

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