by Brandt Legg
“I’ll give you one million digis for her location.”
Blaise stared unblinkingly. “You want me to remove the only thing that stands in the way of your ascent to the throne, that which would cement you into history, and the offer you propose is an amount that I spend on Field advertising every week?”
His image disappeared as Drast’s INU went dark.
Drast’s fingers worked furiously until he had an AOI captain online.
“Issue an arrest for Blaise Cortez.”
The captain stood speechless before coughing out the words, “What charges?”
“Obstruction of an AOI investigation, treason, espionage . . . that should get you started. But don’t worry, I’ll think of more.”
Chapter 29
Runit arrived first with the TreeRunners, having decided to skip classes that day, not far behind. The rest of the staff and volunteers staggered in between zero seven hundred and eight hundred hours. All of them were exhausted and worn out from pulling and moving books late into the previous night. Even the TreeRunners were in slow motion. Chelle and Nelson showed up together late because Nelson had insisted on getting doughnuts and coffee for everyone.
“I tried to dissuade him,” Chelle said, tossing Runit a banana. They had not slept together, hadn’t even gotten together for a drink, and he was glad. It would not have been a good first date – too tired and too stressed. “It’s organic,” she said. He looked at it a little more closely as he peeled it.
Organic produce, although not illegal, was no longer certified by the government and extremely hard to find. The giant corporations managing the world’s food supply and Aylantik government research had long ago shown post-Banoff pesticides and fertilizers to be entirely safe. PharmaForce even had a division involved in the consortium that manufactured the products. That, coupled with the Health-Circle endorsement, convinced all but Rejectionists that chemicals in food were safe.
“Thanks,” he said smiling. “I won’t ask.”
“It’s how my big brother bought my silence on the doughnut issue. He knows a guy who knows a guy . . .”
“I’ll bet he does.”
“How’s it taste?” Chelle asked.
“Amazing.”
“Way different than the GMO ones,” Chelle said. “You can taste the rain and the sun in it, can’t you?”
“Yeah, imagine if we could grow these,” Runit replied. “Cicero once said, ‘If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.’ But what if you have neither?” He tried to savor the fruit and the moment with her, but the walls of books were closing in, and having a building filled with TreeRunners during school hours made him more nervous than he’d been since the nightmare had begun.
“Don’t worry about the AOI,” she said, as if reading his mind. “All the TreeRunners are seniors. They’re allowed to fulfill classes independently over the Field without attending their groups.”
“I know, but it’s a change.”
“It’s a small risk,” she said as they grabbed a cart and headed into the fiction section.
“All these small risks add up to danger,” Runit said.
She turned to him. They were alone in an aisle. “You’re a man filled with courage. Let it surface. Let it guide you.”
“Even if that were true, I can’t afford courage when Grandyn’s life is at stake.”
She put her hand on his heart. “His life is at stake either way. Don’t you see? If you act from fear, you reduce his chances. You must act with courage. It’s the only way.”
“I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what,” Runit recited.
“To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Runit said, surprised. “You know it?”
“Only because it’s one of Nelson’s gazillion favorite books. He made me read it when I was a teenager. Of course, I loved it and read it several more times.”
Runit nodded. “Anyway, I get what you’re saying. But courage is a scary thing, especially when love is involved.”
Grandyn and Vida delivered carts to Nelson, who was working one of the strappers on the lower level. “Are we going to make it?” Vida asked Nelson.
“I don’t know, but we’ll probably get close enough,” Nelson said, chewing a wad of spearmint gum.
“It’s so weird,” Vida began. “I was just outside and everything seems so normal on the street. Everyone is busy like it’s a normal day. It’s like the same old happy world out there, but inside there’s this tension, this pressure. Are you guys really sure about all this?”
Nelson did not slow his strapping, but glanced at Grandyn, the kind of look one gives when they’ve just heard gibberish from a mentally unstable person. “Vida, do you know what a serial killer’s neighbors say when they’re interviewed after some horrific crime?”
She shook her head.
“They say, ‘Oh, Mark seemed like such a nice quiet man, he always smiled, even helped out during the snowstorm,’ or whatever.”
“And your point?”
Nelson shot another look to Grandyn, who was smiling.
“My point, sweetheart, is that the world may appear all quiet and happy and peaceful, but there is a cold-blooded killer underneath all that, just waiting to strike.”
Vida laughed a nervous laugh. “So you’re saying you’re sure about taking the books?”
Nelson let out a sigh and nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. “Yes, Vida, we’re doing the right thing.”
“Okay, you’re the smart ones.”
Nelson thought of Blaise Cortez, Deuce Lipton, and a series of other famed billionaires, plus a lot of unknown wealthy people. “No, sweetheart, we aren’t the smart ones. We’re the dumb neighbors who woke up to the serial killer too late.”
Chapter 30
Lance Miner stared at the new report projecting from his INU as if he were rapidly bleeding to death. He started to yell, but panted instead, trying to catch his breath.
Sarlo burst into his office, ignoring the view of Miami’s skyline and the morning sun sparkling on the ocean backdrop. “The Flo-wing is waiting,” she said.
“You saw?” Lance asked weakly.
“Just now.”
“This is the work of Deuce Lipton,” he said, snatching his INU and heading toward the door.
She followed. “It would seem so.”
He turned back, almost knocking her over. “I should have killed him! Damn it, why didn’t my grandfather kill Booker Lipton so that this torgon rat bastard was never born?”
“Let’s find out what happened?”
“I’ll tell you what happened. Deuce paid the Premier to resign.”
“But we’ve still got the Vice Premier, and he can announce CAAP.”
“Maybe, but do you think Deuce didn’t think of that already? The Vice Premier will probably drop dead of a heart attack at the swearing-in ceremony.”
“That would be risky for Deuce to try,” Sarlo said in her calmest voice.
“Deuce Lipton’s middle name is “Risk.” Hell, this could be the start of a torgon coup!”
While in flight to Washington, Lance zoomed Drast.
“Why is he resigning?” Drast asked. “This can wreck our timeline.”
“That’s for sure. Depending on whom the rising Premier picks as the new Vice Premier, we could have a complicated mess to deal with.”
“You’re thinking Deuce did this?”
“Damn right he did!” But as the shock had worn off, Miner couldn’t be sure. “Although as I think about it, there are at least twenty people who are going to be hit hard by CAAP.”
“How did word get out?”
“You tell me.”
“Well, I’ve already got a warrant out for the biggest info-broker in the world . . . Blaise Cortez.”
“
You have what? Damn it, Polis, what were you thinking? Cancel that now.”
“Let me tell you what he did first.”
“I don’t care what he did. You do not arrest that man. I’d prefer it if you didn’t even offend him.”
“If you’re not on offense, then you’re playing defense,” Drast said. “We need him under control.”
“I don’t need you quoting the unofficial AOI motto to me. You think of Cortez as a nuisance? Well, he’s anything but that. Blaise Cortez is the fulcrum on which our fragile peace rests.”
“How so?”
“Because there are two sides battling for the future of our society. Two sides that are heading toward an open war,” Miner said. “Up until now we’ve managed a secret war that has maintained the illusion of peace. And an illusion of peace is as close as we’ll ever get to real peace, so long as money is involved.”
Sarlo’s eyes widened at her boss’s admission, but by moving her hands across the glowing reports revolving around her INU, she pretended not to be listening.
“If we go to an open war,” Miner continued, “then we have already lost. The Aylantik coalition’s grip on power depends on peace. So, if that peace is broken, our defense of peace will cripple us.”
“And Blaise Cortez?” Drast asked impatiently, his voice rising.
“Cortez is the battlefield of the secret war. The Aylantik wants to keep things as they are, the others want change, and the desire for change is a powerful force, one we have been fighting for decades. But Blaise Cortez wants something different from either side . . . he wants whatever works for him. His interest isn’t in the Aylantik or in the changers, he’s in it for the money and power he can get out of it. Both sides use him, and our battles are won and lost in his activities. If Blaise has a good day, peace continues.”
“And if he has a bad day?”
“Peace continues. He’s the ultimate neutral party because he doesn’t care, and yet he has the power to matter in the conflict. Historically, war was fought on battlefields and then in back alleys and dark night encounters of spies. Then we went to boardrooms and the cyber world, but today we fight a war within the sphere of one man’s life.”
Miner thought he may have overstated this. He didn’t think Blaise deserved that much credit or power.
“But he can’t be trusted,” Drast said.
“Of course not! Now pull that warrant. It’s not as if you would have found him in the first place. You can’t even find a single woman with a thousand agents.”
“We’re getting closer.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know where she slept last night.”
“So she’s alive?” he exclaimed.
“Well, at least the rumor of her is alive.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Miner waved off a cyborg server offering a drink from the Flo-wing galley.
“I’m not convinced that some rogue pocket of Rejectionists or Creatives isn’t keeping this false legend alive.”
“You think she’s an urban myth?” Miner laughed. “Are you willing to bet your future on that assumption?” His voice grew more agitated. “Are you willing to risk the future of humanity on your little hunch?”
“We’re following up. We’re pursuing every lead. If she’s out there, we’ll find her.”
“I know you’re working it Polis, and I hope you’re right. That she isn’t real. But even that would present a situation. Why is there so much chatter flaring up about her now? If Rejectionists, or Creatives, or so help us, PAWN, is using her as a rallying point or some kind of a symbol, then we’ve still got a big problem.”
“There is nothing of size. We’d have detected it.”
“Lance,” Sarlo broke in, “the Vice Premier is on.”
“Keep me updated. And as the Chief says, peace prevails, always,” Miner told Drast, as he ended the zoom. “Vice Premier, what the hell is going on up there?”
“Good morning to you too, Lance,” the Vice Premier said. “The Premier has only cited personal reasons, more time with family.”
“I know that much,” Miner said impatiently. “But surely you’ve been briefed on the Corporate Assets Acquisition Parity Board?”
“Yes, I have, Lance. But CAAP will have to be shelved for a few months.”
“What? Why?” Miner demanded. “The A-Council has approved it.”
“I’m aware of that, but things have changed since the approval. Don’t worry. I’m sure we can get CAAP back on track in the near future,” the Vice Premier replied in the smooth tone of a seasoned politician. “Right now we have other concerns, and there’s the matter of continuity. CAAP is just too politically sensitive in this climate.”
“What are you talking about? If you want to be endeared to the masses, go after the wealthy.”
“The masses aren’t the ones who keep the world calm,” the Vice Premier said, echoing words Lance had said before the Council many times.
“Like hell they aren’t,” Miner said, knowing he sounded hypocritical. “It’s a small crime that grows into a scandal.”
“We’ll have to continue this later Lance. I’m about to be sworn in.”
Lance stared at the space above his INU where the image of the Vice-soon-to-be-Premier had been.
“It’s just a delay,” Sarlo said. “We’ll get in to see him tomorrow. We can rally the Council.”
“This is a failure that will make me look weak in front of the Council. Damn Deuce Lipton.”
“Be careful Lance,” she said, busily motioning around her INU.
“I’ll make sure CAAP will still happen,” he said, glancing out into the sky as they flew over Savannah, Georgia.
“Instead of a distraction for Deuce, it may become one for you.”
“That’s just what Deuce wants.”
She nodded.
“Any luck getting us in to see the Premier? I want to know how Deuce got him to resign.”
“He’s not willing to see you,” she said, working VMs that were filling the air in the small cabin around them.
“I’m sure he’s not.”
“Lance, the A-Council President is on,” she said, pointing to his INU.
“Tough break, Lance,” the President said.
“I’ll say,” Miner shot back coolly, knowing the President was secretly amused and probably in on the operation that had cost him his dearest project.
“You’ve still got the votes. We’ll get it back on the agenda in the spring.”
“It’ll be too late,” Miner said.
“For what?”
“Deuce Lipton is funding rebels. By spring we could be in an open war.”
“I know your theories Lance, but you have not one shred of proof. Nothing. And on top of that, if Deuce were to fund rebels he’d be cutting his own throat. I know the man well. He’s only interested in peace. He may not be on the Council, but he is not undermining the Aylantik government. Deuce profits from the status quo more than any of us.”
“You’re wrong,” Miner said.
“I don’t think so, but if you have a case, bring it to the Council and we’ll reconsider your previous requests to eliminate Deuce. In the meantime, you’d better be certain nothing happens to him. The ramifications from Deuce’s death would be far-reaching and destabilizing to the entire world. But particularly to you. You’d be the prime suspect, and the Council would not be forgiving. Not in the least.”
Chapter 31
Drast zoomed Blaise Cortez. “Why do you think I’d want to speak with you after you tried to arrest me?” Blaise asked in an amused tone.
“How do you know about that?” Drast asked, annoyed by Blaise’s smirk.
“Please.” Blaise twisted his head, so that his cheek touched his shoulder, his long brown hair dangling in his face. “I knew about your issuing the warrant before you knew.”
“Very funny.”
“Oh, not really. Well, it is to me, but for you it’s very sad. Of all the many thin
gs I know, which is nearly everything, one thing I don’t know is what it feels like to be as inept as you are.” Blaise smiled for only a second. “Could you tell me, Polis Drast, what is it like to be deficient in intelligence?”
Drast could have grown angrier. Instead he laughed. “You’ll never know.”
“Of course, you’re quite correct.”
“I need her location.”
“Yes, you do. But you’re wasting my time. It is so frustrating speaking with those such as you.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“I already have everything.”
“Everyone wants something.”
“That is not the case, Polis Drast, but you’re close. Not everyone wants something, but . . . everyone needs something.”
“Fine, Blaise, what do you need?” he asked, watching the DesTIn expert precisely shell and eat peanuts in a way that seemed intent on bothering Drast. It was working.
“Something you’re not in a position to give.”
“Damn it.” Drast punched his hand. “And you say it’s frustrating talking to me.”
“She is within mere kilometers of your forces at this very moment and yet you will not find her.”
“I don’t believe you.” Drast imagined watching KEL footage of Blaise arriving at an AOI prison, restrained, and beaten. He desperately wanted to incarcerate this man.
“I don’t care.”
“You’re the least trustworthy man on the planet.”
“I assure you that title does not belong to me.”
“Prove it.” Drast changed his Tekfabrik to all black and adjusted his collar.
“I have nothing left to prove, but I’ll tell you something just because it gives me pleasure to aggravate you.” Blaise tossed a peanut in the air and caught it in his mouth before continuing. “The woman’s influence extends well beyond your region.”
“Until I am World Premier, only the Pacyfik concerns me.”
“Hmm. Trouble in another region might even work in your favor. Perhaps you’re smarter than I give you credit for . . . perhaps not.” Blaise shelled more peanuts and ate them as if there were nothing tastier in existence, throwing shells on the floor and sucking the salt with a mouth-smacking sound.