Ragi smiled. “But you don't think that, do you, Agent Ruben? I think you're one of these technophile types who likes GIs. Who thinks that maybe by studying us we can teach you something important about the nature of humanity.”
Ruben smiled back. “Don't profile me. Get to work.”
The CSA's condition red was over by mid-afternoon, and after filing the usual reports Vanessa was astonished to discover she had free time. If she wanted it, of course—had she not, she could have easily found another few hours to complete performance reviews and read red-marked intelligence reports, even to review the latest status on a disagreeable misconduct charge that was making its way through lower ranks. As FSA spec ops Executive Officer to Sandy's Commanding Officer, personnel was her specialty, meaning training, recruitment, and maintenance of standards. People skills, Sandy said with a wry smile, implying that Vanessa had more of those than her.
But after seven hours in the air on emergency standby, tracking the possibility of armed League cells whose warned-about action never took place, she'd logged all the hours today she needed to and could finish the reviews tonight. In the meantime, Phillippe had a concert this evening, and as always, she'd promised him she'd be there if she could. More often than not, she couldn't. But tonight, well, even Executive Officers were allowed to bend their schedules to fit in valuable private time if possible.
Even more surprising, Rhian was free too.
“It's the city zone expansion out in Kuta District,” she explained to Vanessa as they flew to Ranchi, where the concert was. She was wearing a nice blue dress she'd kept in her FSA locker just in case of unscheduled engagements without the time to go home and change, and now fitted earrings in the passenger seat and applied some makeup in a mirror. Vanessa was still amazed how civilian Rhian had become in such a short time. Well, seven years wasn't that short, but it was a lifetime of relative tranquillity for a former League spec ops GI. Rhian no longer played the part, she was the part—a young Tanushan working mum, busy, devoted, and fashionable. Given where she'd come from, it was quite beautiful to see. “They need Rakesh to supervise on the design work for the transportation instructure, he's so much better at that than anyone else, so they keep working him late because his boss screwed up the schedule and didn't give him enough headway, even though Rakesh warned him it would happen. He says they just don't appreciate how hard his job is, they never give him enough time.”
“Maybe he should work for someone who appreciates him more,” Vanessa suggested.
“Well, funny you should say,” said Rhian, with a conspiratorial look. Smacked her lips to make the rouge stick. “He's been talking to someone else; I'm not really supposed to say. The gist of it is fewer holidays, but better daily hours, so more time with the kids. More money too.”
“Huh, well, who actually takes holidays anyway?”
“Most people,” said Rhian, matter of fact. Civilianised she might be, but Rhian had never understood rhetorical questions and probably never would. “Just not us because we're security. We forget what most people get.”
“So the kids are with the oldies tonight?”
“No, aunties.” Rakesh had a huge family, his parents off the ship from Nagpur had taken colonial exhortations to propagate very seriously, and had fourteen children. Most of those now had their own children, and there were no shortage of child minders. “That reminds me, it's six, when's the concert?”
“Eight.”
“I'd better call Salman now to say goodnight.”
She did that, while Vanessa accepted the cruiser's landing course ahead and wondered wistfully what life with her own children would be like. Not long ago it had been Sandy worried that her friends were settling down faster than her—and now Sandy had three kids to look after, and Vanessa was the one left out. But Sandy's life was now officially crazy, and Rhian was always rushed. How would the FSA's spec ops Executive Officer find time for anything with kids? And then Phillippe, while insisting it was all her decision to make, was hinting how nice it would be for them to share a natural pregnancy, even though that was crazy and she just didn't have nine spare months to gestate…
They found a nice outdoor restaurant near the concert hall and were just about to order when Ari called.
“Is Rhian there too?” he asked, obviously knowing she was. How he knew such things when both she and Rhian used the highest security uplinks, Vanessa didn't particularly want to know. “Put her on.”
Vanessa linked him to them both, a three-way conversation. “Hi, Ari,” said Rhian. “Where are you?”
“Nearby. You guys should come over, there's something you have to see.”
“What's that?”
“I…I really can't say, but it's a secure address, there's…look, I just wanted to share this with someone.” Vanessa and Rhian exchanged an odd look. Was Ari…emotional? “I was going to ask Sandy, but of course that's impossible right now…this is just one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen, there's a young girl here who's just been given a whole new life, look, you'll love it, you'll be so glad you came and saw, I looked to see who was nearby with the security clearance and found you two.”
“Well, Ari,” said Vanessa, with all sincerity, “that sounds amazing, and I'd love to come…” Rhian nodded vigorously, looking intrigued, “…we'd both love to come, but we're about to eat before Phillippe's concert and I get to see him play so rarely these days…”
“Trust me, this is worth skipping a meal. I'll feed you a sandwich while you're here, better than a sandwich, Ami's a great cook. Shouldn't take more than ninety minutes round trip from where you are, you'll make the concert easy.”
The autocab from the restaurant only took fifteen minutes, a groundcar on busy roads.
“Obviously he's at Denpasar,” said Rhian, looking up for a glimpse of the tower above. “And he mentioned Ami, that's Amirah Togales.”
“Oh, that's right, the 45 series,” Vanessa remembered. “You were impressed with her, yes?”
“She's amazing,” said Rhian. “I'm not sure why, but Tanusha is attracting some very impressive female GIs.”
Vanessa smiled. It wasn't arrogance from Rhian. Just fact, stated Rhian-style. “Can't argue with that.”
“Not that the men aren't impressive too. They just seem to lack a little dynamism. They don't integrate as much, socially.”
Vanessa thought of Poole. “There's a theory that female GIs are more aesthetically activated. Femininity in Tanusha is certainly more aesthetic.”
“Aesthetic?”
“Colourful. Decorative.”
Rhian made a considering face. “That might be true. Sandy's theory is that female orgasms are so much more powerful, which generates brain development.” Vanessa laughed. And laughed some more. Rhian looked a little surprised Vanessa thought it so funny. “It's actually not a stupid theory. Female orgasms are internal, and GIs have them from early stages of life when brains are still growing, unlike children. GI muscles are so powerful, when they contract, like in orgasm, it's a full body experience.”
“Trust me, you're not alone there, girl.”
“I know, but compared to men. I'm sure male GIs have great ones, but speaking for the females…I mean, when my stomach muscles contract like that, that's literally like steel, right through my core.”
Vanessa laughed some more. “I know. Poor Rakesh, Sandy was always scared shitless of sex with Ari.”
“I'm much more controlled than Sandy, Rakesh is completely safe,” Rhian replied with a knowing smile. Of course, those two had served together League side, so Rhian had actually seen her do it. “But those intense feedback mechanisms in early-stage development for GIs actually contribute a lot, so it's not a dumb theory.”
“Sure, but it's also just Sandy being Sandy, finding a way to tie everything back to sex. I think she was pulling your leg, Rhi.” Rhian still sometimes missed that.
The taxi turned a corner, its nav screen projecting a stop ahead at the base of the HDM tower. �
�Poor Sandy,” said Rhian with a grin. “Three kids. Has she had any sex lately, do you know?”
They giggled. Vanessa sighed. “We shouldn't laugh. The poor girl, it'll be so hard for her.”
“She'll explode,” Rhian suggested. They giggled again.
They got out onto the busy sidewalk of downtown Denpasar. HDM tower was ninety floors, nothing super big, the neighbouring mega-rise was half as tall again. Here around the tower bases was all typical Tanushan retail, like anywhere with maximum footfalls. The shopping, high glass, and dazzle extended into the tower foyer, with lots of people. Interesting place to put a CSA secure facility, but so long as access was tightly controlled it wasn't any less secure for all the activity, and its main occupants, HDM, were an insurance company whose interest in high security meant they were quite happy to coordinate theirs with the CSA offices on the top floor.
And upon thinking it, walking across the foyer to the elevators, she got the oddest chill. It started from somewhere back between her shoulder blades and worked its way down her spine and up to her scalp, an unpleasant tingle.
“Ricey,” said Rhian, formulating internally, sounding alarmed. Vanessa glanced at her and saw her walking on edge, looking around.
“Don't look,” Vanessa told her. “I know, I feel it too, keep walking.”
They stopped before the concierge to the hotel that occupied the tower's lower third. There was a queue for luggage facilities, and they stopped in it and looked around. The thing with running so many combat sims and having seen quite a bit of actual combat, with a head full of augments trained to process suspicious patterns, was that you couldn't always tell what triggered it. A particular set of frequencies you hadn't realised you'd been receiving, a deployment of certain kinds of people in different positions about the floor of an open space. Sometimes the subconscious recognised the pattern before the conscious had figured out what was going on.
“By the elevators,” said Rhian. “Two pretty girls. They're GIs or I'm a bunbun.”
Vanessa looked without really looking. Sure enough, two well-dressed young women waited by the elevators. They wore pants, not dresses, and their shoes were relatively sensible. An elevator came and went, and neither got on.
“Well, that's active cover,” said Vanessa. “Where's passive?”
“There,” said Rhian. “In the lounge, reading a slate with a suitcase at his feet. Two chairs over from the piano.”
One-third of the foyer was a lounge, soft chairs, and potted plants, drinks served while a piano played. Rhian's mark was in a suit, neat haircut, young, handsome. Reading slate not raised quite high enough to block his eyeline. Between the three of them, they had the entire foyer covered.
“You think they've spotted us?” Rhian wondered.
“I'm sure they have. This is rearguard, the main action must be ahead of us. I'm going to warn Ari.”
She tried Ari's link. Nothing. One of the girls by the elevators flicked a quiet glance in their direction, then away again, as though realising she'd made a mistake by looking.
“Shit,” said Vanessa.
“Jammed?”
“Yeah, and they saw my attempt. I could go outside and get a clear signal, they've wired the building.”
“You wouldn't get out the doors,” said Rhian. “Look, their main purpose now they know they've been blown is to buy time. If they start shooting, SWAT will be here in six minutes. If they delay, they can still do their mission.”
Vanessa looked around at the foyer. About fifty people, sitting in the lounge, attending the hotel desk, shopping at the perfume counter. Coming, going. Starting a shootout would stop this whatever-it-was, but they just couldn't with all these civilians here.
“Stairs,” Vanessa decided. “They haven't guarded the stairs.”
“That's because it's a ninety-floor building and stairwells can be intercepted by elevator.”
“We can get an elevator on the fifth floor.”
“They'll respond.”
“I know. You with me, Rhi?” No simple question. Firefights against human opponents always came with margin for error. Against GIs any mistake, or split-second delay, was death. Or even no mistake.
“Didn't join the CSA for nothing,” said Rhian. “Stairs, thirty-nine?”
“Stairs.”
They walked for the stairs, behind the concierge and to the side. It was a small, enclosed staircase, rarely used, the atrium was all ground floor and little else. Civilised Tanushans would take the big open-glass elevators. Out of sight from the atrium, they ran up four at a time, spinning corners wide to avoid unlikely collisions. At the fifth floor they exited to a hotel hallway, rows of room doors, a cleaning bot crawling, humanoid room bots plugged to it and recharging.
Vanessa pulled the pistol from her jacket as she ran, and Rhian the small caliber from her handbag, which she left on the cleaning bot as they passed. It beeped a query, then a protest: lost item, lost item. Vanessa stopped at the corner and peered around. Clear but for a few walking guests.
Vanessa gave Rhian's gun a scathing look. “A girly gun? Seriously?”
“Nothing else would fit in my purse.”
“Rhi, there's such a thing as too civilianised.”
“So Sandy tells me. It's good enough if I'm accurate.” The point being that GIs always were. At least her dress was barely knee length…though she'd already kicked off her shoes on the stairs. “They're not going to let us have the elevators.”
“I know. Let's bust the network, see if Ari notices.” With any luck he'd already have noticed, net wiz that he was. But if this was the League, it was ISO, and ISO did nothing without preparation.
Rhian closed her eyes briefly and leaned against the wall—not as natural a net jockey as Sandy, but significantly smoother than Vanessa. And without opening her eyes, promptly keeled over, straight onto the floor.
“Rhi!” Vanessa crouched, panicked, shaking her shoulder. Uplinked, “Rhi, you there?”
“I'm here,” Rhian replied quite calmly. And quite motionless. “What the fuck is this? I can't move.”
“Looks like the League learned some new tricks…hang on.” She grabbed Rhian up, and her gun, held her one-handed (a much easier thing than it had been without her augments) and kicked in a hotel door. The room was unoccupied, and she dragged and dropped Rhian on the freshly made bed. Sat on her and slapped her cheek. “Feel that?”
“Ow, I said I can't move, not I can't feel.”
“Should I try the network myself?”
“Probably not. I mean you're not a GI, you'll be much harder to disable like this, but if they've this trick, likely they'll have other tricks.”
“They're not the only ones with tricks.”
Vanessa rolled off the bed at the big wall-to-ceiling window, wound up and kicked it. It was reinforced, so instead of shattering it, she punched a hole through to her ankle. Stuck her gun out the hole and fired a volley at the road below, aiming carefully for tarmac between moving cars. By the last shot she could see them slowing and wavering as traffic central realised something was wrong from various sensors and sent the road into emergency pattern. A cross sweep of other sensors in this part of town would confirm gunshots, and their location, and send red alarms howling all the way back to CSA HQ. Cops in three minutes, but they'd not do much. SWAT in maybe ten.
“Sorry about that,” she said, scrambling back to the bedside to cover the room's door. “They might want to remove us now.”
“Throw me out,” said Rhian. “Out the window. I'll be fine, it's only five stories.”
“I'm not throwing you out the fucking window,” Vanessa muttered.
“I'm slowing you down, you should move.”
“Shut up.”
“Vanessa, it's Ari!” New signal, new voice, crackling through static. “Wherever you are now, MOVE!”
Vanessa threw Rhian over her shoulder and rushed the door. Then the room exploded. They rolled in the hallway amidst smoke and shattered bits of door, Vaness
a bruised and stung by debris, her ears ringing but maintaining enough sense to get her gun up on the hallway. Still no attacking GIs. That had been a guided round, someone higher up had put a mini rocket through their window; Ari must have pinged its guidance signal.
“Ari, sitrep!”
“They're coming through the secure floor!” He was audibling, she could hear gunfire in the background. “Can't tell how many, we're trying to get the network locked back down…”
“SWAT's on its way, Ari! Hang on a few minutes!”
“Ami!” she heard him yelling. “Ami, kitchen floor! There's a breach!”
Rhian was moving, just a little. Rolling onto her back amidst debris and smoke, now rolling her eyes to look up at Vanessa. “Go,” she whispered. “It's coming back. I'll be fine.”
Some hotel guests were in the halls now, shocked, as emergency announcements told them to return to their rooms. “Look after her!” Vanessa yelled at them, pointing at Rhian. “She's CSA, look after her!”
And took off toward the elevators, dodging people on the way. A figure emerged from the elevator doors, weapon raised. Vanessa stepped into a flying aim, the only way to attain stability while running, firing as she fell, saw the figure kick backward into the elevator doorway and fall. She hit and rolled, came up, and arrived at the elevator. Blocking the doorway was one of the girls from the lobby, no longer so pretty, heavy caliber rounds through the face. Still she was moving, only stunned, and Vanessa put another three in her temple to be sure.
A quick peer into the glass elevator and ducked back as rounds from across the lobby smashed the glass. Step one, draw fire, identify source. Step two, hit target. Yeah, sure. She dragged the dead GI from the doorway, then accessed the elevator by network, found the building network open to her, whatever had restricted traffic now released. CSA overrides were good enough to get the elevator moving upward at speed. Whoever was shooting at it across the lobby kept shooting, not knowing if she was in it. And that gave her a location, shots echoing above the screams and shouts in the atrium below. And if she concentrated, she could feel the augments kick in, the armscomp calculating all she'd seen of the atrium, the width of it, the sound of shots travelling across it, traversing up the side wall as the elevator accelerated away.
Cassandra Kresnov 5: Operation Shield Page 22
