Chapter Four: The Laston Effect
Three hundred people remotely operating a motorized garbage hauler is questionable entertainment, but with public media channels restricted, re-runs were all of the only kind available. Aaran was indeed napping when I returned to our family-sized live in touring cruiser. Oh well.
[Tuckered out, huh? I guess she does have limits,] Sonata remarked, impressed as ever. Nothing was going to flag her idolatry. I half smiled at the thought.
[Did you hack the internal camera?]
[No. She gave me the address before you left. I'm the 'spysassin' anyway!] she replied proudly. A nickname designated by Winter, Masurani's cuter than the Summer Twins daughter.
[You wear it with pride. I wish you could be here. Aaran has suffered a lot.]
There was a pause. [I know she has. That was a D. Gawain original. Cost a small fortune. Why was she wearing it in a marked zone?]
[Pardon?] I played up the tone of surprise to encourage her enthusiasm.
[Sector 9 was declared code black because the Dreadweights got into a skirmish with the Real Stuff. Small arms and some cybernetic toughs.]
[They're fighting over Tellistale again?]
[Yeah. The Reals got knocked on their duffs again, too. Pretty silly.]
[I wonder. No one is ever permanently injured in these fights.]
[Yeah. So, 'bout Aaran?] she prodded, admiration refocusing her thoughts.
[She was making a first aid run. I suppose it was to Yale.]
[Then she would have been duty bound. It must have been urgent to take the risk of burning a designer arm.]
[There was no public announcement about it. We didn't know. That breaks policy. Who informed you?] I required of her accusingly, not letting her off easily for withholding the truth from me.
[Aw... Ayani, but... she didn't find out 'til a bit ago. A few hours, maybe.]
That was deliciously vague. Sonata's obscuration impressed upon me the notion that she had slipped out classified information, but felt honor bound to be honest with me. Rules are meaningless if you can't understand when they need to be broken.
I wondered if Aaran was really asleep. She has a radio codec implant that allows her access to our communications, should she choose to activate it. Even asleep she can record the conversation to deep-store passive memory and recall it later.
Full of undocumented tricks, she.
"Hindsight is valuable. Patch me in. Don't want others joining us," Aaran projected, eyes shut, breathing slow and regular. Her lips had not even moved.
[Aaran? What d'ya mean 'others'?]
[Hello Spysassin. Looks like we've got unwanted company. Know this face?] Aaran cued up a grainy, grey image of a bearded, sallow-faced man in dirty civvies.
[Elevator engineer. Disgruntled. Twenty-three. Laston Pilcrow. Unmarried. Well paid, full benefits. Two charges of assault, both dropped within a week of arrest. Always pays his bills on time. Listed as 'suspect', 'unruly' and 'social dissident'. Ranked member of the Lifers.] Sonata's profiling skills were top tier.
[That's the one. Nice work. He's trouble. As a ranked member of the Life Hackers he does a secluded trade in shame memories by way of removal and installs. Has quite the creative streak and can fit experiences to suit with minimal memory pollution. A scumbag of his talent is in demand and so means to jump colony when they launch tomorrow.]
[So he's taking advantage of their ploy for Independence. We're certain of this?]
[He's brash, but not stupid. We've an agent posing as a trusted friend with access to his private blog with whom he shares intimates amongst his 'fans'. Some of these are Drima pimps who're aching for his pedigree, willing to pay kilocreds for the privilege. Exploitation of memory manipulation is big business because it satisfies AOC Law and keeps Freedom of Birth out of the picture. Not that law is remotely current.]
[Is this why I'm here? To kill him?]
[That would be preferable. There is no tolerance for his trade by Talon Colony, and they'll just burn his body and space the ashes if we can finish it here. You can get close, he knows nothing about you.]
I made a grand gesture of impatience at the small screen as the stream ended, not having to pretend to be bored. [You're sure he hasn't hacked us?]
[Deadly sure. Some tricks aren't hackable. Sonata, his last known whereabouts are here, right on this elevator. You pay attention you'll find him amongst the crew. Sidle up to him when we arrive.]
[Wait a moment. There are no civilians aboard. How is he here?]
[He's on contract for the 33rd. It's his regular gig,] she replied.
[So this is the 'sting'? What's the angle?]
[He'll be looking. A private profile advertising for his services was answered just two hours ago. Here's the glyph. Don't act, just play along until Buddy and I catch up to you.]
[I'm confused. Why not just arrest him?]
I had the answer and Aaran had a momentary pause to suppress tension from heavy concentration on the serial stream. [No evidence]
[Nothing anyone else couldn't imitate. What a waster. He wicks. I can see it.]
[Thanks Buddy. You're right, Sonata. He does, at that. Good observation, too bad it's legal on Talon. Look...] Another hesitation. [What was that you said about imitation?]
[His code is embedded in explosive devices employed throughout the Alliance. Even AOC military uses it... but doesn't know it. He's got no ego... not about his code.]
[I was going to say: 'No man who makes bombs has ego issues,'] stated a foreign voice.
[Pigeon, sociopaths are men who make bombs too. Ego is the issue. Shards you've got timing. My head's thundering. Call me.]
[Talkin' to the wrong gal if you want sympathy for using your codec in serial mode without support. Wait a sec, but... while you're waiting, chew on this: We've found Marlene, and we're about to stage a siege on Razor.]
This changed the landscape almost completely.
"What went wrong?" Aaran was up and had enabled all of the cruiser's privacy features. No room to pace, however. "Was there a threat?"
Ayani sounds exactly like Aaran, apart from age, patience and precisely six semitones. "Not exactly. Drima pimps have no patience for ceremony, even though Fenora's may be successful. They're pressuring the Crown to ratify the proclamation by 'compelling' all immigrants to aid in Razor's Independence."
"Flakkit!" Aaran flustered, free hand wrenching while her face turned bright red. "S'what the AOC gets for letting it go this far. Curses. Really. Who's heading this, a bloody Shallow?"
"What?" Ayani asked, confused. "Look, you've been through a lot, you should let us..."
"Scrap that!"
I had to make sense of it. "Ayani, why hasn't the Crown moved against this before?"
"Rule of law," Ayani answered, irritated. "They can threaten until the moons turn shade, but until they break a rule or three we're powerless. They're even within their rights."
“What is the threat?”
“Independence.”
I faltered. “I meant 'what are the Drimas threatening to do?'”
“What do Drimas do best? They'll wire the lot of 'em.”
“Popular support will not impress the Crown,” I said.
“It will if it's done peacefully,” Aaran murmured.
“Even if these immigrants are augmented against their will?”
Aaran sighed loudly. “Ask them after the fact, they'll swear by the Pillars they consented.”
"True," Ayani agreed. I was not satisfied by this.
“But that's not what the Crown wants, is it?” Aaran was accusatory.
Ayani was quiet. I imagined her with a pensive expression. It was easy. She looks that way a lot. She is sweet, kind and largely unaffected by her Mother's cynicism.
"What does the Crown want?" I repeated. Ayani would not answer me, either.
"Calm down, Buddy," Aaran warned me, and I was taken aback. She wasn't wrong. I was angry. "Our duty is clear, and so is hers."
I s
hut up and listened. Ayani had orders from the AOC to move in and extract all Court citizens. Representative Castlegar was about to broadcast on the subject, so I queued up the transmission and streamed it for our benefit:
"We acknowledge the request of Razor colony residents and desire a peaceful resolution in validating of the propriety of individual right. Under Crown law all legal rights are respected and all concerns are heard. Those wishing to become members of the Sanctum of LAsting Sanctuary Heralds may do so without reservation, but must accept the consequences and responsibilities necessitated thereby. We hereby extend our hand in hope that a reasonable dialog may be established so that we may facilitate sensible negotiation. May they be mutually beneficial for society as a whole..."
The way she used 'may' had a horrifically condescending overtone.
“That acronym still sounds idiotic,” Ayani giggled.
“It has dire overtones now,” I countered, to which she could only agree.
Reggie continued robotically, reading to an audience of microphones and cameras without passion. This was a purposely insulting speech, delivered as exactly in response after Razor's first declaration six weeks to the day. Reggie was even repeating the inflection she had practiced at that time. She is truly a gifted speaker.
Her definition of an insult would have included a recording of that speech. Such was her mode of consideration for the opponent. Professionalism, I suppose.
Applicant Representative Fenora Katsu replied with a proclamation that all citizens of Razor would be free to return to Talon after the safe and unimpeded launch and independence of the colony. This implied she had the authority to make such assurances. For this they had to convince one seat to favor their cause, and it was this individual they hoped to appease by acting with authority. Representative Horash Tome was not easily impressed, but he spoke the language of commerce, and was known for his subjection to the influence of economic power.
It was likely this was the individual Sgt. Antwight was ordered to protect. Aaran met my gaze and nodded. Her conclusions matched my own.
"There's still time. Operations will not commence until they've cleared a safe distance from Talon. No one's going to get wet for now." Ayani was not obligated to inform us, I realized. This was her manner of professional courtesy.
"So they can break away," Aaran bit off. "No one plans to stop them?"
"I can't comment on that."
I pinged a signal privately to Aaran and she winged in reception. What?]
[How will she get to Razor?]
[She's purposely misstating the facts. She's linked the Court network and can't talk too candidly.] "Sharding inconvenient. We're not even up top yet."
[She's lying?]
[No, just changing the order of events.] "There's a half-mile between us. If you think you can beat us here, better hurry," Ayani said solicitously.
"We'll do that. Good hunting."
"You too, Mama. Be safe."
"Yep," she said dismissively, reaching for the smoothie I had fetched. "Hey, this is nice. Real strawberry. Rare stuff. Was she cute?"
“He,” I responded flatly.
[So what'm I doing?] Sonata transmitted privately.
“Oh. Nevermind.” [Nothing's changed,] Aaran fired back, pressing fingers to her temples. [Nothing. At all. Stay sharp and don't give her any leeway.]
[Yes ma'am.]
Threads of Canor: Sector Bomb Page 4