Judas Unchained

by Peter F. Hamilton

  “Wrong,” Nigel whispered at the image of his friend.

  “I’ve gone the other way to find out what’s there. You know me, huh. The whole Dyson sphere thing is really weird, you know? And the Silfen have got to know something about it. I never did fall for all that mystic guru shit. They’re smart and they’ve been around a long time. So I’m doing a bit of exploring myself. I’m gonna track down those paths of theirs, and find out what’s at the center of their forests. I’m betting it’s something like our own slippy tricky little SI. Hopefully it’ll have some answers for me. So don’t go worrying about me, and I’ll see you when I get back. Double sorry if you needed me to solve a biggo problem, just like the old days. You stay chill, now.”

  The image switched off.

  “Oh, shit, Ozzie,” Nigel said in a pained voice. “You dickhead.”

  ***

  Paula took a brief look around the large opulent office; as far as she could see, nothing had changed. Every piece of big gold-brown furniture was where she remembered. Even the aides were the same. Which made it all the stranger that it was Justine sitting behind the big desk, framed by a window looking out over Washington’s skyline.

  “Thanks for finding the time to see me,” Paula said as the Senator rose to greet her. There was something in Justine’s movements that made Paula study her a little longer than was strictly polite.

  “No problem. I bet you got a few stares on your way up.”

  “A few,” Paula admitted.

  They sat on one of the big leather couches. An aide had already set out a silver coffee service for them. Justine poured a cup of nonmodified Jamaican gold for Paula. Her own drink was water.

  “Your father has uncovered a huge amount of financial irregularities in Bromley, Waterford, and Granku’s accounts. The company seems to be a distribution point for a number of individuals and organizations which have no verifiable existence. A lot of money comes in through various unlisted client accounts, and promptly vanishes. There also seems to be an equal amount of illegitimate activity at Denman Manhattan who run the accounts for Bromley, Waterford, and Granku.”

  “Excellent. This sort of thing is easy for Gore, he was doing it before I was born, for God’s sake. So what’s your next move?”

  “Our preliminary analysis is that Bromley, Waterford, and Granku was acting as a financial distribution center for the Starflyer agent network. They know it’s been compromised, of course. that’s why Seaton, Daltra, and Pomanskie have all vanished. The network funding will have been switched to another distribution center. However, Gore is going to inform the Financial Regulation Directorate; apparently he has a lot of contacts there. The Directorate will subject both Bromley, Waterford, and Granku, and the Denman Manhattan bank, to a forensic accounting evaluation. It’ll be considerably more thorough than anything Senate Security can run. There’s a chance that they might identify both the source of all this dark money, and some of the illusive individuals it was channeled to. It will be difficult; whoever set this up knew what they were doing, and of course onetime accounts remain the bane of law enforcement.”

  “I’m sure Bromley, Waterford, and Granku has been shut down, but I know the FRD—they’ll take months if not years to complete their investigation.”

  “I am of the same opinion,” Paula said. “But that aspect of the investigation may well soon be irrelevant, which is why I’m here in person.”

  “You don’t trust encrypted calls?”

  “I was on the East Coast anyway to see your father, and this is extremely important. Wilson Kime has been in touch with me. He’s asked me to visit the High Angel to review some information. His message was very short, but it seems as though he’s uncovered some kind of abnormality which occurred during the Second Chance mission.”

  “I’ll be damned, that’s a surprise,” Justine muttered.

  “Exactly. Convincing Wilson Kime that something is wrong could well be a turning point for us. In which case we’d need to know how strong our political support is. Are you making any progress?”

  “Better than I’d expected. I can certainly defeat the vote against you in committee whenever Valetta Halgarth gets it onto the agenda again. But a full Senate vote is another matter. If we’re to launch an official investigation into the Starflyer, I’ve got to have rock-solid proof not just that it exists, but that it is manipulating human politicians exactly as the Guardians claim. And we both know my fellow senators won’t take kindly to that allegation, especially the Halgarths.”

  “What about the Sheldons?”

  “I haven’t determined their intent yet. I’m sorry.”

  “I’d like to suggest a strategy,” Paula said warily. The idea was one that she and Gore had discussed at their meeting. It wasn’t quite the kind of tactic she approved of, maneuvering someone into a precarious position. Especially given what she suspected about the Senator’s current physical situation. But these were unusual times, Paula reflected, and there was no illegality on their part, which was the one line she would never cross—not even to challenge the Starflyer. Though it is a very blurred line these days. “According to the Guardians, the Starflyer will return to Far Away when the Commonwealth has been destroyed.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “It’s been mentioned in several of their shotguns. I have studied their content intensively over the decades; Johansson seems quite convinced by this. In fact, I suspect that has a lot to do with the unusual equipment they have been trying to smuggle to Far Away recently.”

  “All right, so it wants to go back to Far Away; how does that help us?”

  “That whole elaborate double wormhole connection to Far Away is massively subsidized by the Commonwealth. You should suggest withdrawing the funding, effectively shutting down the wormholes, and preventing the Starflyer from returning.”

  “Ouch.” Justine smiled roguishly into her glass. “That’s going to annoy people.”

  “It is intended to, especially the Halgarths and the Sheldons. Their reaction would be informative. It would certainly expose their political allies to us.”

  “I could possibly include it as a rider on the navy finance bill that’s coming up next week. It’s justifiable as it would divert money from Far Away to the navy. Let me talk to Crispin. He always has been against subsidizing Far Away.”

  “Thank you. I should add there might be some considerable risk in it for yourself personally. Your brother Thompson was killed because he interfered with the transport arrangements to Far Away. You might want to consider asking Senator Goldreich to propose the rider for you, given your…condition.” She couldn’t help the light flush rising on her cheeks, though she held Justine’s stare levelly.

  “What condition is that?”

  “I believe you’re pregnant, Senator. There are certain signs in evidence. And you did tell me you were going to give Kazimir the one gift still within your ability to grant. I suppose that was the real reason the body was taken to your family clinic in New York.”

  Justine looked down. “Yes. You’re right on all counts. If you could keep that to yourself, please.”

  “Of course, Senator. But the risk—you would effectively be bait.”

  “I assume you and my father had taken that into account.”

  “Your personal security would be upgraded and in place before the Far Away proposal is made. Senate Security has several operatives wetwired at a level capable of dealing with the Starflyer assassin.”

  “Walk in the park, then.”

  “Hardly.”

  “I’ll schedule an appointment with Crispin. You can start upgrading my security.”

  “Thank you, Senator.”

  ***

  Justine sat on the couch for a long while after the Investigator had left. The prospect that Kime could come around to accepting the Starflyer was a phenomenal breakthrough. The more she considered the implications, the more worried she became. At the moment she was completely alone in the Senate in her belief, wh
ich made her extremely vulnerable. By introducing the prospect that the Starflyer was real she would expose herself to political destruction by the Halgarths, possibly in conjunction with the Sheldons. They really did need undeniable proof before going public.

  But then that’s always been the problem.

  The icon that represented the code Kazimir had sent her as he died was still a glowing azure point at the edge of her virtual vision. A constant temptation. Her virtual finger reached out and touched it. She blamed hormones.

  As befitted the leader of the African caucus, Ramon DB’s office was actually larger than Thompson’s. The walls were hung with ancient shields and skins; holographic portraits showed vast landscapes from every African world. Right in the middle, the largest picture showed a panoramic view of Kilimanjaro, taken a century ago, when the glaciers on the top had expanded again, returning the colossal mountain to its former glory. There was a smaller picture beside it, featuring Ramon at the top of the volcano, dressed in thick thermal walking clothes, standing beside the glacier’s edge, smiling proudly at the camera.

  Justine tilted her head to one side as she looked at it. “You know, I could have sworn I was standing next to you when that was taken. How strange, you must have walked up there again without me. And in the same clothes, too.”

  “I…er. This is a political office,” he said sheepishly. “Everything in here has to be symbolic of my constituency, those who I represent, who need my help.”

  “And what could be more symbolic than you taking a white wife? A union between two cultures and races. Building a bridge. A loving partnership. Showing that we are all above the conflicts of the past. Creating a Commonwealth of equality and fairness. A Commonwealth where skin color simply doesn’t—”

  “All right, all right! I take the point. Dear God, woman.”

  “So you’ll change it back? You’ll stop me from being an unperson.” Somehow she managed to keep a straight face. It was difficult, he looked so guilty, which brought out that vulnerable aspect she’d adored. She’d always had fun teasing Rammy.

  “I will take it under advisement, certainly,” he said with mock dignity.

  “Why, thank you, Senator. You can rely on my vote.”

  “Was there a reason you came here other than to taunt me?”

  The humor faded from her face. “Yes. I need some serious advice.”

  “And you came to me? I’m flattered. Is this serious advice political, or personal? I know it can’t be corporate; I remember Gore’s opinions on my ideology. What was it he used to call me?”

  “ ‘A whining pinko illiberal without a clue how the real world works,’ is probably the only one I can repeat in an office as symbolic as this.”

  Ramon laughed, and kissed her cheek. She was disturbed by how cold his skin was, the little layer of perspiration on his forehead.

  “So you needn’t worry, this is definitely political advice I’m after,” she said as they sat on a long teak bench carved with antelope figures. She felt her stomach churn again, and clenched her throat. There was nothing she could do to stop the shiver running down her body.

  “Are you all right?” Ramon asked, his face creased in genuine concern.

  “Better shape than you.” She gave him a weak smile. “A lot better.” Her hand went to her mouth as her stomach rebelled again.

  Ramon was studying her intently. He leaned in a little closer, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “Dear God, you’re pregnant.”

  “Yes.”

  “I…That’s…Congratulations.”

  “Thanks, Rammy.” She was worried she was going to start crying. Damn hormones.

  “You’re really pregnant. He must be quite something. You didn’t even do that for me. Our child was grown in a womb tank.”

  There was nothing she could do to stop it. The tears just came pouring out. “He’s dead,” she sobbed. “Really dead, Rammy. And it’s all my fault.”

  “Dead?” His arms had gone around her, slipping easily into the comfy old position, her head on his shoulder, cheek pressed to his neck. “Are you talking about that boy at LA Galactic?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “So you’re punishing yourself like this.”

  “No. It’s our baby, I want it to be safe. This way I can be sure.”

  “I know you,” he said soothingly. “This is the penance you’ve given yourself.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “He must have been very special.”

  “He was. And I was stupid to ever get involved.” She drew back, and sniffed, wiping her hands across her eyes. “It’s all so goddamn complicated.”

  “He was a young man with a cause he believed in. Everybody over a century old envies that. We might be able to buy youthful bodies with rejuvenation, but the integrity and intensity of youth, that is only ever a fading memory.”

  “You don’t understand. He really was killed by the Starflyer.”

  Ramon stiffened slightly, giving her a keen glance. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I do. That’s why I’m here. Some of us are convinced that it does exist, that the Guardians are right.”

  “Oh, Justine, no. You mustn’t do this. It’s a reaction to the loss, just like the pregnancy. You want to believe in what he believed.”

  “It’s not just me, Rammy. A lot of us are of the same opinion; and we’re about to be joined by a very major player.”

  “You should talk this through with your father. He’ll soon cut through all the bullshit. It’s what he does.”

  “Gore believed before I did.”

  “Gore believes this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Dear God. So this is what you wanted advice about?”

  “Of course. Exactly how do I go about introducing the notion to the Senate that some of its own members are traitors to the human species?”

  Ramon sat back, a slow amused smile spreading across his face. “Carefully. Very, very carefully. So this is the actual issue surrounding Paula Myo? The fight between you and the Halgarths.”

  “Yes.”

  “I see. Are you going to share any of the proof with me?”

  “A lot of it is circumstantial. You have to be on the receiving end to appreciate it properly.” As she said it, she realized how weak it sounded. “I should have absolute proof in a couple of days. That’s why I’m preparing the groundwork now.”

  “They accused Doi of being a Starflyer agent. The President herself.”

  “She’s not.” Justine recalled the conversation she’d just had with Bradley Johansson. “That was part of a disinformation campaign to discredit the Guardians.”

  He clicked his fingers. “Your interest in revisiting the Sorbonne Wood weekend. That’s a part of this as well.”

  “We were being manipulated.”

  “Preparing us for war. Yes, I see now. Just as the Guardians claim.”

  “You say it with such skepticism.”

  “And did you blindly follow your father’s belief?”

  “No,” she admitted.

  “Then kindly allow me to judge the facts for myself. And so far you have provided me with none.”

  “If I do, if I show you proof that cannot be argued with, will you help me in the Senate?”

  “Justine. Dearest of all my wives. I hate to see you suffer like this. First the shock of Thompson. Now the guilt of your lover being killed. You were there and think you are responsible.”

  “I am responsible.”

  “All this leaves you so emotionally vulnerable. In such times you cling to the wildest hope of redemption. People like the Guardians know how to exploit that. Cults have refined their recruitment operations down the centuries until they have become masters of extracting devotion and money from their damaged followers in exchange for their own vision of salvation.”

  “Well, thank you, my darling; I would never have worked that out for myself.” She gave him an exasperated glare. “Rammy, I was dodging
fortune hunters and investment shysters before your great-grandparents ever met. There is no money to be made from this. It is not a scam. It is not a warped religion. It is the most dangerous threat the human species has ever faced, and the most elusive.”

  “I could never resist when you were cross with me.”

  “Stop that!”

  He pouted.

  “Rammy, it doesn’t matter if you think I’ve gone right off the deep end with grief.” Her hand slipped down to her belly. “Given my state, that’s perfectly excusable. The least you could do is humor me. It’ll be good therapy. You do want me to recover, don’t you?”

  “You diabolical woman. I can never win with you, can I?”

  “Marriage was your victory. The greatest.”

  “Arrgh, how I hate you.”

  “Rammy, focus, please; if this proof does exist, will you help me?”

  “I would have to see it before I even consider answering that question. And, Justine, it would have to be absolute proof. I need to see this Starflyer knocking up the Pope’s illegitimate underage daughter; the full in flagrante TSI recording. Nothing else will do. Even then I’m not guaranteeing anything.”

  She grinned back at him. “Is she another tall blonde, then?”

  “Evil woman!” He held her gently again. “Now I want you to promise me something.”

  “What?”

  “If this proof is not forthcoming, you will see someone who can help with the grief.”

  “You’re kidding. A shrink? Me?”

  His gaze remained steady. “An easy promise, surely? You know you are right, therefore you will never have to do it.”

  “I taught you well, didn’t I?”

  He gave a modest shrug. “Your word?”

  “My word.”

  “Thank you.” He bent forward and kissed her on the forehead. “And if you need someone there at the birth…”

  “Oh, Rammy.” The tears were threatening to return. “It couldn’t be anyone else.”

  ***

  Justine had just reached the elevators at the end of the Senate Hall’s long east wing when the alarm went off. She turned around to see doors opening all along the wide corridor, staffers looking around in puzzlement. A bright amber strobe was flashing above the door to Ramon DB’s suite of offices. “No,” she breathed. Shock turned her muscles to ice; she couldn’t move. It’s him! The assassin. He’s here.