But he didn’t have time to dwell on it much, for they had to hand the children over to Terissa and make haste to Sinkat; as predicted, Sharon had scheduled a conference for first thing.
“We think the best chance of keeping you out of it in public is to make sure Pilan and the rest of the senior team are told about your role in private,” Mikal told Gabriel as they walked. “Otherwise I suspect they’ll start poking around and asking lots of questions—asking you lots of questions, about what you did or didn’t notice.”
Gabriel winced. “They’ll do that anyway.”
“Maybe, but this way it won’t be in front of others, which is what’ll probably happen if they aren’t told. If I’m there in the room while Sharon’s onscreen, and we’re both saying that we think you handled your discovery in an appropriate manner—which you did—and we ask them to cooperate in keeping Herran’s and your involvement quiet, it makes it a lot harder for anyone either to give you a hard time or to go gossiping indiscriminately.” Mikal grinned. “Besides, Pilan already owes you, doesn’t he? Here’s where you get to collect.”
Pilan, Lapsa, and the rest of the executive team were suitably stunned to learn that they had been the target not only of a biological attack but of a coordinated propaganda assault as well. They were even more shocked to discover that they were only now finding out about it.
“I don’t understand,” Lapsa said, perplexed. “How could we not have known this was happening?”
“We did,” Gabriel told her. “We’ve all known how much negative commentary and innuendo and scaremongering there’s been on the streams. People have been talking about it and messaging me and coming over to my workstation to complain for weeks, it’s just that we all thought the chatter was being generated by lots of random streamers. Now we know that was part of their plan. I think,” he amended hastily, catching sight of Sharon’s face on the screen and realizing that this would probably count as amateur sleuthing in her book, “it was organized to look disorganized.”
“That does appear to have been the case,” she confirmed, deadpan.
“And when did you realize it wasn’t random?” Pilan growled.
“While you were in the hospital,” Gabriel replied promptly. He had been rehearsing this one. “You and almost everyone else here. Before that, I’d assumed it was just what it looked like: a bunch of unconnected bigots saying nasty things about gems—you know, the usual. Then, when I noticed how many avatars were being used, I thought maybe a few trolls had gotten together, or maybe they’d been put up to it by one of the pressure groups. I had no idea it was going to turn out to be this big.”
“When Gabriel shared his concerns with me, neither of us had any way of knowing these activities were connected with the toxin, or the earlier sabotage attempt,” Mikal interjected smoothly. “If we had, it would clearly have been an urgent matter for the police. I found it very disturbing, but on its own it didn’t sound like it’d be something for which you’d divert resources away from hunting down terrorists. I discussed it privately with Sharon to get her advice, and you initially felt the same too, didn’t you, dear?” Sharon raised her eyebrows at him. “It was only as the police investigation progressed that she realized there might be a connection between the terrorists and the situation Gabriel was dealing with.”
“That’s correct,” said Sharon briskly. “And I must stress that it was still just a suspicion at that point; it’s what we’ve learned over the last twenty-four hours that makes us certain the smear campaign and the terrorist activities are linked. It also indicates an even more sophisticated conspiracy than we’d expected—a fact the press will no doubt jump on immediately.”
She leaned forward and stared directly out of the screen at them, mouth set in a firm line, her manner grimly serious. “It also raises concerns for Gabriel and Herran, if they become associated with the discovery. I don’t know how these people—or their supporters, if they have any—would react if they knew who was responsible for the police closing down this side of the operation. I’d like to think they’ve got bigger problems at the moment, but we can’t be certain, and so I must ask you all to help us maintain confidentiality. For Gabriel and Herran’s safety.”
Murmurs ran around the table as the significance of Sharon’s words sank in. The half-dozen pairs of eyes focused on Gabriel went from some combination of surprised, impressed and mildly reproachful to overwhelmingly protective, and he squirmed in his chair, embarrassed.
“Surely you shouldn’t be here at all?” said Lapsa anxiously. “You should take some time off—come back when it’s all over.”
You are going to be such a good mother, Gabriel thought. You sound just like mine. Aloud he said, “Thanks, but we think that would probably just attract attention.”
“Gabriel is right,” said Sharon. “It’s been almost a full day since the arrests, I’m required to make an announcement. Plus, the news that we’ve got more people in custody is already leaking and I don’t want anyone thinking the primary targets have been apprehended. We still need the public to remain on the lookout. So the attention of every news and socialstream is about to focus on this story and they’ll be jumping at anything that strikes them as unusual. Believe me, I don’t like to leave civilians—let alone minors—potentially in harm’s way, but pulling Gabriel out might make him less safe, not more.”
And that was all it took to deputize the entire executive committee of Thames Tidal Power into feeling responsible for him.
Mikal laughed softly at the look on his face as the others came up afterward to offer praise and reassurance and advice. Gabriel felt less like the efficient, talented, and valuable press officer he knew himself to be and more like everybody’s slightly delicate and overly doted-upon young nephew.
“You two planned this,” he managed to whisper accusingly in a momentary interlude.
“After a word with your parents,” Mikal whispered back sagely. “Detective Superintendent Varsi is also your Aunt Sharon, and if she can’t keep you where she or they can guard you personally, she’s going to make damn sure everybody else is on point.”
So that was why they had decided to let him come in today. He supposed he should be grateful.
“If anything happens and you feel like you need to get out of the office,” said Pilan, his attention back with them as others departed, “head for our apartment. It’s air-full, and I’ll add your finger ident to the entry panel. Doesn’t matter whether we or Agwé are there or not; if you need to go just go. Okay?”
“Okay,” he said, feeling wretched but determined not to show it. “Umm . . . Is she around?” Under normal circumstances there would be a slew of messages demanding to know what was going on, but he’d heard nothing from her, nor yet from his parents; he still had no idea what he would, or could, say to her. His own abject apologies had been going out since the middle of the night.
“She went up to college early,” Lapsa told him. “She left just before you arrived. She said there were some assignments she needed to discuss, some professor she had to see. She’ll be back by afternoon, I suppose.”
Mikal stayed until after the news broke, more concerned about the fallout than he was willing to admit, and he took the time to catch Pilan up on political developments.
“Sharon couldn’t be here in person because she also has to brief the government so they can be ready to respond,” he explained. “Normally it would be the ministers for internal security and communications and their staff, but Jack Radbo’s asked to be included. My guess is that this latest turn of events, on top of my backing yesterday and your statement the day before, will have given them all the political cover they need: as long as energy capture in the estuary stays on track, and barring any major incident, Thames Tidal shouldn’t have to worry about outside interference.” Mikal chuckled softly. “Jack liked your piece, by the way. I mean, he really liked it.”
“Gabriel helped write it,” said Pilan meditatively, then laughed. “No, scratch that;
he didn’t just help, he worked out exactly what I needed, and that’s what he produced. When he gave it back to me, it was precisely what I’d’ve said if I was a hell of a lot better at saying things than I am. And all the time he was doing his regular job and dealing with this too and never letting on.”
“By that point, Sharon had told him he couldn’t discuss it.”
“I get that; I’m just blown away by how damn competent the boy is. Were we that together when we were his age, Mikal? I don’t think I was.”
“We knew different things,” Mikal told him. “Gabriel has been trawling through adult minds almost since he could speak. I’m glad my children aren’t getting the education he did, but he’s certainly learned from it—he’s had to. We’re just lucky he’s so steady and decent.”
But Mikal was conscious that for all Gabriel’s calm demeanor and whip-smart handling of the Kaboom situation, the boy was being stretched to the limit. He sounded strained and he looked exhausted. Part of that was doubtless down to the unfortunate business of the TideFair vid; Gaela had called them about that last night, but by the time Misha and Sural saw it, it showed only an abbreviated glimpse of them laughing with an unseen friend. Eve had been swiftly and neatly excised, and the chance that harm would come from her brief, anonymous exposure was vanishingly small. It was the kind of risk that Bal and Gaela always knew they were running; it was that, or hide themselves and their children away from the world. They were sanguine about it, but they said Gabriel was being very hard on himself.
Mikal was not at all surprised; he remembered the promise the solemn-faced little boy had made, to protect the newborn infant cradled in his mother’s arms. Gabriel had looked around at them all—Bal and Gaela, Aryel and Eli, him and Sharon—and known the fear in their minds: of what that baby might become, what others would make of her if they could. He was just eight years old himself then, but he’d have felt the full weight of adult responsibility, and he would not have forgotten.
He looked just as solemn now, sitting silent and focused at his workstation, stream-feeds scrolling, cranial band pulsing, fingers flying. Mikal commandeered an empty chair and waited until Gabriel finished pushing out whatever it was and turned toward him.
“So what’s the reaction?”
“Dumbfounded would be a good word,” Gabriel said. “It doesn’t look like any of the streams saw this one coming. The reporters are scrambling to find a way to talk about it without the kind of speculation that could get them in trouble. The socialstreams don’t care about that, of course; they’re already buzzing.”
“And the buzz is?”
“Of course Bankside has the resources to pull something like this off, and isn’t it interesting that this guy Fischer used to work for head office. Also it makes you wonder what else they might be up to.” Gabriel smiled without humor. “I’m guessing Bankside didn’t get the advance notice that we did, since they haven’t responded yet.”
“I expect not,” said Mikal noncommittally. “Are you engaging?”
“Not much. There are loads of requests for comment, and for interviews with Pilan, of course, but the publicity service can deal with those; they’re to direct everyone to the statement we posted. I expect a few news crews will show up here at some point, but we’ll deal with that when it happens.” He glanced at the screen, checked something and turned back to Mikal. “The commentators who might generate the kinds of conversations we need to respond to haven’t had time to push much out yet; so far it’s just snarky one-liners to reassure their followers that they really are themselves.”
“Think it’ll put a scare into the regular trolls?”
“I think it might.” He made a face at his uncle. “We can but hope.”
Mikal laughed out loud; that was one of his standard lines. “I can’t argue with that. How are you doing?” He looked around meaningfully, and dropped his voice. “Anyone I need to head off for you?”
“Nope.” It looked to Mikal like Gabriel’s gaze lingered on an empty workstation nearby, but he shook his head firmly. “Lapsa’s got it covered. I don’t think there’ll be a problem—well, not unless you all keep fussing, in which case everybody will start to wonder what’s going on.”
Mikal chuckled and shoved himself out of the chair. “Since you put it like that, I shall take myself off and go and represent the public. Call me if you need me.” He peered around the big room. “Where is Lapsa, anyway?”
“Outside, I think. Some people from Environmental Management showed up and she went to deal with them.”
Lapsa was on the quayside, hands on hips, talking to two dive-suited persons in a small launch standing off the quay. They wore EM logos on their shoulders, the full head-and-body kit that was standard for underwater work, and the attitude of people who are already hard-pressed and put-upon and would like very much to get on with their job if only the nice lady in the dark purple bodysuit would leave them alone.
“Please, ma’am, don’t come in the water yet,” said one, peering through his mask, his voice distorted by the breathing apparatus. “We don’t need any help, and the safety warnings for you folks haven’t been lifted yet. Once we get these units in place and they’ve synced with the rest of the system, you can start getting back to normal.”
“But why weren’t we told you were coming today?”
The two men looked at each other and shrugged.
“Beats me,” said the one who had been talking.
“We don’t work for the most efficient department in the city,” said the other. “You might have noticed.”
“My guess is someone decided they needed to speed things up, only they didn’t think to tell you.”
“Typical,” grunted the other.
“Oh, all right,” said Lapsa irritably. “It isn’t your fault, and we’re desperate to be back in the water. It’s just that I didn’t know, and we’ve got a lot going on at the moment.”
“We’ll be no trouble at all. Should be done within an hour.”
“Right. Well, come inside and have a cup of tea when you are.”
She waved to them and turned to Mikal as the boat nosed along the quayside toward the far end of the Thames Tidal building. “They go from one extreme to the other, these people.”
“Environmental Management?”
“Yes. They were supposed to install new monitors around the basin next week, only they’ve showed up today instead.” She made an exasperated gesture at the boat. “I don’t know why I’m complaining. We wanted it done sooner, but they said it was impossible.”
“They don’t excel at communications,” Mikal observed. “Sharon tells me the liaison they appointed is good, though.”
“Fayole? She’s been great. That’s why I’m so annoyed.”
“You’ll probably find that she couldn’t tell you because whoever is responsible didn’t tell her. I might push for a review of their management procedures when this is over.”
“I’ll sign that petition. Thank you for coming. Are you off?”
“I am. You’ll keep an eye on Gabriel?”
“I’ll keep an eye on Gabriel.”
24
When Mikal looked back from the far side of the basin, the EM launch was moored in a distant corner, and neither diver was on board. Environmental Management appeared for once to have taken the initiative on something, even if they were still failing the finer points of coordination. Aryel had told him that their work with Bel’Natur on the inhibitor had mostly amounted to them staying out of the way. Thinking about that as he headed along the riverwalk toward the piazza and the steps up the side of the great bridge, Mikal was grateful beyond expression that Bel’Natur had moved fast enough to render Standard BioSolutions’s offer redundant. Given what he now knew, the prospect of Standard being involved on the recovery side of this mess made him feel queasy.
The evidence was, as Sharon kept reminding him, circumstantial—but how many coincidences could there possibly be before it was impossible for them to r
eally be coincidental? She didn’t yet know the latest snippet of connection, innocently vouchsafed to him by Gabriel just this morning during their cold walk to Sinkat: Aryel’s observation of the similarity between Kaboom’s methods and the strategy that Zavcka Klist had once pursued. It felt satisfyingly like another piece of the puzzle sliding into place, and with any luck it would leave Sharon just as stunned as her news had left him last night.
She’d waited until long after the kids were asleep and the grownups had found better things to do than talk; they were lying together in lazy bliss afterward and he was just about ready to drift off himself when she nudged him and said, “Guess what?”
She sat up in bed. “It’s time for tonight’s round of Improperly Shared Information. I know something about your friend Moira Charles.”
“Not funny,” he yawned, “unless you happen to know that she’s involved in the Bankside business up to her eyeballs and you’ve got a nice cold cell waiting for her. That would be very funny indeed.”
“Not quite, though I do know that she knows our man Fischer from when he was at Standard and that she continues to share an extracurricular interest with him.”
Mikal made a comic-shocked face at her and she batted playfully at his blanketed body. “No, not this one, silly. Less fun, but possibly significant. Achebe turned it up this evening when he was working through Mr. Fischer’s extensive—and I do mean extensive—list of contacts. So, it transpires that a lot of the people Fischer’s worked for are also founding members of the exclusive Karma Club—where you were recently wined, dined, and unsuccessfully bribed? Mitford isn’t on the books, so it was probably Charles who arranged for him to meet you there: she is a member, along with Fischer. Achebe discovered that mostly by accident, while chasing down another exclusive network that Fischer is part of. Turns out Ms. Charles is part of that one too. It turns out that a lot of the members are.” She explained.
Regeneration Page 25