“I’m sorry, Franklin. Sometimes I forget that we don’t know each other that well. I also overlooked the fact that you and your sister have a special relationship. I understand that this can’t be easy for you, and I do sympathize.”
“Don’t you dare! You don’t understand anything!” Houte caught himself before he said something profane. The index finger on his right was aimed directly at Pinter’s face, and his left hand was balled into a fist. Pinter’s face had gone from guilelessness to full-blown surprise. He was scared now, and he wasn’t alone in that.
Slowly, Houte withdrew his finger and unclenched his fist. Reflexively, he cleared his throat before issuing an apology.
“No, I’m sorry. It’s just -”
“You’ve grown accustomed to being the only one who can look after her,” Pinter ventured. “Believe me, I do understand. Family can have a strong hold on a person. I know that my presence here has upset things to an extent.”
For once, Pinter stopped talking entirely on his own. Ordinarily, he ceased prattling only when someone else looked like they wanted to interject or reply. Houte had made no indication that he wanted to get a word in edge-wise. His little outburst must have caught Pinter’s attention.
Eventually, Houte did reply. “You keep saying you understand. How could you?”
Pinter considered the question for a moment, then shrugged. “I suppose I don’t understand what it’s like to be solely responsible for someone. My son was raised by his mother, for the most part. I was always too busy with Formist business to play much of a role in his development. But I did take a leading hand with my grandson, and we all know how that turned out. Few things open your eyes to the complexity of family dynamics more than having a family member try to kill you.”
This made Houte laugh. Whatever anger he felt evaporated in the face of such an absurd, but oddly true, statement. But at least it had alleviated the tension between him and Pinter. Once Houte regained his composure, he returned them to the subject at hand.
“All right, let’s review. I understand why we can’t ask these people to come to Valhalla. I suppose I understand why you don’t want us to venture to Ganymede too. But I feel like leaving now would place Constance at risk.” Houte looked at Pinter’s image. He waved his hand vaguely at the simulation. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but I don’t see how you or she can ensure your own safety.”
Pinter looked down at the digital construct that was his body. He then smiled modestly, as if to say that he was pleased with what he was.
“Do you think that because my existence is non-corporeal, I’m defenseless?”
“Well, no, but -”
“Do you think that because your sister has a foot in both the physical and virtual realms that she is defenseless?”
Houte sighed. Much like his earlier objections, he found it difficult to explain. If there was one thing Pinter had already made clear, it was that his existence as a lattice quantum simulation didn’t make him vulnerable. His grandson had made that mistake and had already paid the consequences for it. But Constance was another matter. As Clio, she was virtually invulnerable, a goddess among mortals in the Jovian net. But physically, she was barely aware of the world around her. At times, she seemed completely oblivious to it.
How was Houte to explain this without sounding like he was insulting his own sister?
“She’s never been alone for more than a few hours,” he said at last. “I’ve never trusted her safety to anyone else, including her.”
Pinter looked down, nodded somberly. At last, he truly did understand. It wasn’t merely a matter of trusting someone else. In the end, Houte truly did doubt that his sister was capable of taking care of herself. It was a terrible admission for him to make, but one he had to if he was going to entertain what Pinter was asking him to do.
“As I indicated, your sister isn’t defenseless, Mr. Houte. And despite what you might think, she’s far more aware of what’s going on around her than you realize. She is aware of what you do for her in the real world. And while she may not have shared this with you, she was quite upset to hear about your friend.”
“Ward?” Houte said, genuinely surprised. “What did she say?”
“She told me that he had come to visit. That he had asked the two of you for help on the case he was working. Of interest to him was my colleague, Doctor Lee, and the man my grandson hired to watch over him. The same man who ultimately killed him. She said the two of you feel a measure of remorse for what happened to him.”
Houte once again broke off eye contact with Pinter. The subject was still a little raw for him, but even more distressing was the fact that Constance had feelings on the subject. Until now, he had had no idea that she felt somehow responsible for what had happened to Ward.
“Nothing will happen to her in your absence, Mr. Houte. I can assure you of that much.”
Houte could only ask one thing at this point. Only one word summarized his rather difficult feelings on the subject.
“How?”
Pinter smiled again. This time, though, there wasn’t a trace of humility in his expression.
“Constance and I are aware of everything that is happening around us right now. We’re also aware of many things to come. Not only will the people who are looking to harm these investigators be ignorant of our presence here, but things will play out exactly as we have foreseen, provided everyone plays their part.”
Houte felt strangely reassured by what Pinter was saying. When it came to assessing the angles and possible outcomes, he and Clio were most adept. But there was one flaw Houte felt obliged to point out. “You’ve been wrong before.”
Pinter shrugged. “Yes and no. It’s true that we didn’t anticipate the reaction the Manifesto would get. But there were players we couldn’t account for. Now that we know about all the parties involved, we can plan accordingly.”
Houte sighed. There wasn’t a thing left to do but make the decision. He could either take a leap of faith and trust that Pinter and his sister had planned everything out, and things would somehow materialize at they had foreseen, or refuse. At this point, he wasn’t sure which would be the riskier decision.
“When would we need to leave?”
“As soon as possible,” said Pinter, sounding annoyingly cheerful. While Houte hadn’t indicated he was on board, Pinter could tell that he was leaning in that direction. “You’ll need to contact the people Amaru told us about. You’ll also need time to lay the groundwork for... what we talked about.”
Houte shook his head. He considered himself too old for clandestine plans and conspiratorial whispers. He could only imagine how someone as old as Pinter still found such things interesting.
“All right. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow.”
Behind him, Pinter clapped his hands together and spouted joyfully. “Excellent! You won’t regret this, my friend!”
Houte grumbled a reply. “We both know that’s a lie.”
TWENTY-THREE
HENRISSANT APPROACHED Saana. With an outstretched hand, he offered her the hijacked video acquired by the UAV. On top of its grainy footage, he had applied filters that subjected the two faces it had captured to facial recognition. Simultaneously, Saana pulled up the image file in her mind and noted how the woman standing on the right was identical.
Veronika Gallego.
The one on the left wasn’t immediately identifiable. Saana captured her image and stored it for later. Their patron would know who she was, and she would make it a point to request an ID in her next communique. In the meantime, Saana looked them over, noted the expressions on their faces and what these made painfully apparent.
They were most unnerved by the presence of the drone. Their faces had the look of trepidation and anxiety, and they stood closely together. Even without knowing who the other woman was, Saana could tell that she was responsible for Gallego’s safety. The Solar Council wouldn’t entrust their investigator’s safety to just anyone.
&
nbsp; [Keep a close eye on this one] she instructed her team. [We must assume that she’s armed and has at least some degree of training.]
[Just one?] observed Konsou. [Are we to assume that she’s qualified then? Or that the Cytherean’s life matters so little to them?]
[Either way, they’ll be no match for us. We should strike as soon as we can.]
[Patience,] Saana cautioned. [Dispatching them will be the easy part. But we must be discreet. No public displays this time around.]
Saana received acknowledgments from every member of her team. As much as she needed to advise caution in these situations, she was pleased with how high her team’s moral was right now. She also shared their optimistic appraisal of their chances. They could only assume that Councilor Elenko and her people weren’t taking Saana and her team too seriously. Or perhaps she simply trusted that her people would be able to go about their business on Ganymede without being noticed. She and the other Councilors would see the error in that soon enough.
Before they started to move again, Saana congratulated Henrissant on his intel gathering.
[Good job acquiring the UAV again, Bastion.]
Henrissant’s reply was predictably modest. [It was no problem. Their infrastructure is still easy to hack. I would have thought they’d learned their lesson from last time.]
Once again, Saana felt like urging caution. Instead, she simply ordered them to move out.
[Begin tracking the targets. Don’t let them leave your sight for a moment, but don’t engage until we’re cleared to do so. The opportunity will come soon enough, let’s not waste it.]
They replied, as one, in the affirmative.
With that, Saana and her team stalked the streets of Selket once again, invisible to everyone around them. Keeping to the edges of the honeycomb, they moved without disturbing anyone or anything. Between the constables, the limited sensors, and the civilians - all of whom were eager to stay out of harm’s way - absolutely no one was aware of their presence.
The thought made her smile to herself. Her crew was correct in thinking that they had an advantage over the Cytherean investigators. But that compared little to when it came to the locals. Once again, they had been able to slip into the settlement and operate without detection. Much like the last time, not one of them would be aware of Saana or her team’s existence until they chose to make it known.
The first indication would be their weapons inflicting untold harm onto them. The last one would be the sight of her crew standing over the smoldering bodies and wreckage they had created. In a strange way, it made Saana look forward to a day when such things weren’t an unusual occurrence.
One day, there will be a war between our people, she thought, looking out upon the locals. When it comes, it won’t be a war at all.
THE MOOD DIDN’T CHANGE when Gallego and Cheboi reached the Constabulary. Even though they were no longer out in the open, and now stood before a police stronghold, the general sense of unease Gallego had detected earlier was still in the air. And the added security measures hammered home the fact that Ganymede was becoming a police state.
Barricades had been placed outside the main entrance, large slabs of fused regolith marking where people entering and leaving the building were to walk. Armed officers in full body armor stood outside the front as well, keeping watch over anyone who tried to come in. The moment Gallego and Cheboi approached the front door, they were notified that an active body scan was in progress.
This time, it was a sensor cluster located outside the main entrance, one that looked like it had been put up in a hurry. Obeying the instructions that were posted beneath the scanner, Gallego and Cheboi stood in the center of the walkway between two of the barricades. They waited for someone to give them the all-clear before moving a muscle. There was a loud chime when the sensor finished. A voice then issued from a loudspeaker, harsh and crackly.
“Approach the entrance. Have a valid form of identification ready.”
Cheboi took the lead. Gallego had noticed a change in her since their arrival. The jovial woman who was eager to entice Gallego into talking about herself was gone. Not only had she not cracked a smile since they had arrived, she had barely said a word. Even though they were walking into the Constabulary, arguably the safest place in the settlement, she still had a look that suggested she was on the lookout for any possible threat.
When they stepped inside, Cheboi was about half a meter in front of Gallego. Her profile was turned, one leg ahead of the other. Her right arm was hanging at her side but looked ready to be drawn up or thrust forward. Given the nature of her suit and its many applications, this would result in her either erecting a shield or producing a ranged weapon.
Gallego didn’t feel like dissuading her. Even though they were now standing in the Constabulary, Gallego couldn’t say with any confidence that they were safe right now. With all the tension, a single wrong move could be enough to trigger a firefight. Since they would also be significantly outnumbered, Gallego even wondered if they might survive.
In small doses, ballistic weapons and slugs were no match for a Xolotl-grade exosuit. But by sheer volume alone, the constables could overwhelm them before long.
“Ms. Gallego?” The suddenness of the voice behind them nearly made Gallego jump. She spun around, though not as quickly as Cheboi. By the time she was facing the person calling her name, her bodyguard was already poised to strike.
She spotted the source, a young man wearing the same grey uniform as the others. But his hat had a bright silver insignia consisting of multiple chevrons connected by a star. Epaulets with bright orange stripes decorated his shoulders. It was only after the status symbols had made an impression that she noticed other things about him.
He was young, of slim build, and rather dark of complexion. He was also the only person in the building that had a smile on his face.
“Yes? And you are?” Gallego asked.
“Inspector Samir Najafi, ma’am.” He looked at Cheboi, and his smile faded a little. “I was the officer-in-charge on the multiple homicide case.”
The details of the case file Gallego had received began coming back to her. There had been no images of Najafi or any other personnel attached to the case. She was surprised to see that the constable in charge of investigating the attack was as young as the man who now stood before them. While youthful appearances were common among Gallego’s type, it wasn’t something that could be easily faked by Retros.
“Yes, of course,” she came back. “We’re looking for the Chief Superintendent. We were instructed to check in with him before meeting with you.”
“I’m here to escort you to his office. This place can be a bit labyrinthine for first-time arrivals.”
“We appreciate that, sir.” Gallego turned to Cheboi, shot her a look of urging. Cheboi picked up on the cue.
“Of course, we do. Much appreciated, this is.”
Najafi nodded awkwardly and waved them on. “Follow me. He’s right this way.”
Gallego and Cheboi proceeded to follow. Their visit to the Constabulary was likely to be short-lived if they couldn’t count on everyone behaving themselves. Cheboi shot Gallego a look that suggested she take their safety more seriously. Even without a neural connection, their heightened state made it possible to have an entire conversation with a few simple glances.
Najafi led them from the foyer to what appeared to be the Constabulary’s central hallway. This led down a long pathway that opened into multiple offices and common rooms. Every person they passed acknowledged Najafi with a respectful nod or a smile. They were more reserved when it came to Gallego and Cheboi. In fact, Gallego would describe the looks she and her bodyguard were getting as downright venomous. Here too, she could tell volumes from the expressions that were being conveyed.
It wasn’t just the fact that they were outsiders. She could see in their eyes the look of fear and loathing. It wasn’t hard for them to tell that Gallego and Cheboi were Cythereans. Their builds, their ge
neral appearances, and their finery: these were all indications of their terrestrial and Extropian origin.
“I apologize for the frosty reception,” Najafi said, once they reached a stretch of hallway they had to themselves. “Tensions are high these days. Especially towards visitors.”
It’s more than that, Gallego thought. She opened a neural link to Cheboi. Her suspicions needed to be shared, and privately at that.
[They know.]
[Know what?] came Cheboi’s reply.
[The attack. They know it wasn’t locals who did it.]
Gallego directed her eyes forward. She waited until they came upon the next person to pass them. Here too, the Constable looked upon them with a gaze that turned Gallego’s blood cold. She trusted that Cheboi saw it too. It was a look of barely concealed anger and seething contempt. They were none-too-happy about the fact that Extros were being given a free-run of the Constabulary.
[You see? That’s bloody vengeance in their eyes. They think outsiders perpetrated the attack. Or at least, they strongly suspect.]
Cheboi paused before replying, taking the time to consider her thoughts. In the end, she was inclined to agree.
[They’re right too. What happened here was not something in-house.]
Gallego nodded. [This could be good for us. If we can find something that was missed, maybe point them in the direction of the real attackers, we might be able to kill two birds with one stone. No uprising by the radicals, no need for the Solar Council to intervene.]
Cheboi didn’t respond, but Gallego could sense her joviality. Were they speaking directly, she imagined Cheboi would be smiling and laughing at her right now.
[What is it?] she asked.
[Elenko said you had good instincts. She said this was one of the main reasons she brought you in on this. Like I said before, she chose well.]
The Jovian Manifesto (The Formist Series Book 2) Page 16