The Noise Revealed

by Ian Whates

  Kethi slowly turned her head to look at him. He could see in her eyes that she knew exactly who he meant. "Philip Kaufman," she said. "Of course."

  Leyton didn't much enjoy the role of outlaw. He'd spent all his adult life hunting down and dispatching ULAW's enemies, and now he'd become the very thing he was trained to kill. Life at this end of the relationship was proving to be far more restrictive and claustrophobic than he could ever have imagined. Since taking up with the habitat, his home had been this ship, his world defined by its logically designed environment - metal corridors, uniform spaces and cramped rooms - and he didn't imagine this was likely to change any time soon. He'd been given a reminder of life beyond when they picked up Kyle and went after Billy, and he was about to be granted another, but these were no more than temporary reprieves. It was not what he'd envisaged at all.

  The door shushed open, interrupting his reveries. Kethi stuck her head into the room.

  "You ready?"

  "Yes," he assured her. "I'm ready."

  He took a deep breath and stood up.

  "Good." She stepped fully into the room, her right hand behind her back, her face alight with a mischievous grin. "Only I've got something for you."

  She slowly brought her right hand into view and held it out towards him.

  He stared in disbelief at the familiar shape that lay across her palm. Smooth, curved handle, slightly bulky stock and a fatter barrel than you might expect. Some might think it ugly, cumbersome, but not him.

  "My gun."

  "Your newly sanitised, AI free gun," she corrected, and laughed.

  He took the proffered weapon, opening and closing his hand around the grip and instantly noticing a difference.

  "The AI's dead, but we've installed a simple computer chip to handle the switches from one function to another," Kethi explained. "Lacking the software ULAW had packed into your skull, we haven't yet perfected a voice operated system that's going to be foolproof in the noisy confusion of an all out battle, so for the moment you're going to have to live with a dial switch, but we'll sort out something on the voice front which doesn't involve wires and a face mounted mike as soon as we can."

  A dial? And he thought the habitat was supposedly founded by scientific geniuses. He flicked the small wheel sunk into the gun's handle with his thumb, gazing at it to memorise which function was where. At least the action was smooth enough, easy to flick between the various settings. He ran the dial from one end to the other - projectile, grenade, armour piercing, energy - and then back again, wondering how easy it was going to be to accidentally skip one of those steps in the heat of a battle and fire an armour piercing shell when he wanted a grenade. Still, given the choice between this and any other hand weapon, he knew which he'd go for in a flash.

  "Obviously this isn't going to provide the sort of intelligence support the old gun and visor combination gave you, but..."

  Kethi seemed uncertain, perhaps disappointed at his lack of visible reaction. He smiled, and said as reassurance, "Thank you. Feels great to have it back."

  Despite everything, it did.

  Leyton's initial reaction to Catherine Chzyski was complicated. At first glance she had an open expression and a disarming, welcoming smile - the sort of kindly demeanour which, combined with her age, made you want to relax and suspect that she might be about to offer you a home-baked cake and a mug of hot chocolate. Look a little closer, however, especially at the eyes, and you'd see there calculation and a sharpness that suggested your first impression might be a trifle misleading. She was clearly well into her - what, seventies? - yet she moved with the vitality and confidence of someone half her age. No hesitant fear of brittle bones here, instead the assured confidence of someone at ease with herself and her age.

  "So," she said, once he and Kethi were seated, "you're Jim Leyton; the man who was present when Philip Kaufman was murdered and who hunted down and killed the killer."

  "I am," Leyton admitted.

  "Pity about that last part, mind you. Who knows what we could have learned from the Cirese woman, had she lived?" Her smile only softened the implied criticism by a fraction. "Still, no helping that now."

  "Indeed," Leyton agreed. "Particularly as it emerges that if I had taken her into custody I might well have been handing her over to the very people she was working for."

  He said this to get a reaction, but Chzyski's smile gave nothing away. If his words came as a shock or surprise, Leyton couldn't read the fact, and he was trained to.

  "Can I get either of you a drink?"

  A cool one, no doubt about it.

  "No, thank you," the two of them, almost in harmony.

  They were taking a chance in coming here, but his gut told him the risk was worth it and Kethi agreed, though not without reservations. Kaufman Industries were one of the corporations that made ULAW tick. They had designed the engines that powered ULAW's starships and supplied the government with the needle ship squadron that ambushed The Rebellion... and yet... Philip Kaufman's assassination made them potential allies if Kethi's assessment was correct, and Catherine Chzyski was known to be staunchly loyal to the Kaufmans, going back to the time of Philip's father. This was an association that seemed set to continue, since both the transhuman Kaufmans had been taken on by KI as consultants.

  It was that last that was the clincher, which persuaded them to gamble, relying on Leyton's wits and Kethi's skills to get them out of a scrape if it proved necessary. He felt increasingly confident, though, that it wouldn't.

  "You do realise, I presume, how great a risk I'm taking in even having you here, Mr Leyton," Catherine said. "You're not exactly ULAW's favourite son at present. While you, young lady," she nodded towards Kethi, "don't even appear to exist as far as official records are concerned."

  "True," Leyton agreed. "Yet here we are."

  "Indeed, and one has to wonder why that is."

  "As I explained to your... partial?" Leyton was aware that downloaded personality fragments were commonly used for what amounted to secretarial purposes on some worlds, but this was the first time he'd ever encountered the practice directly. Encouraged by Catherine's nod of confirmation, he continued. "We're hoping you can put us in touch with Philip Kaufman."

  Catherine laughed. "Philip has the freedom of Virtuality. You could have contacted him from anywhere."

  "Perhaps," Kethi said, sitting forward, entering the conversation for the first time, as if to emphasise that she was just as relevant to proceedings as Leyton. "But we wanted to make sure we had his attention."

  "Oh, I think you can safely assume you have that," Catherine said. "The question is, why do you want it?"

  This was the moment of commitment, when they either damned themselves by admitting what amounted to treason in front of one of the government's strongest supporters, or found a much needed ally. Kethi gave Leyton the shallowest of nods, relinquishing the floor to him. "We have evidence that Philip's assassination was part of a wider campaign of murders instigated by factions within the ULAW government and triggered by the appearance of the Byrzaens. Further, we believe that elements of the government have been in contact with the aliens prior to New Paris, and wish to explore the possibility that said contact was facilitated via Virtuality. We'd like to hear Philip's take on this."

  He thought that put the situation pretty succinctly.

  "I'll bet you would," said a new voice as two figures materialised beside the Kaufman Industries CEO.

  "Philip." Leyton nodded towards the younger of the two. "I had a feeling you might be listening in. I presume this must be Malcolm."

  "Indeed it is. Hello, Jim, good to see you. And Kethi, is it? Interesting name; I'd like to hear more about that. In fact, it sounds to me as if we've got a great deal to talk about all round."

  Chapter Twenty

  Kyle tried to talk to Joss about Wicksy several times. Finally a suitable opportunity presented itself. They were in the rec room, no one else at the table, when he attempted to express hi
s regret at her loss and apologise for anything he might have said or done to make her feel worse. Strange, but when it came to light, witty banter with a woman - any woman - he had always found that words flowed freely. Now, when matters were anything but frivolous, he felt as if his tongue had been dipped in lead rather than the desired silver. The conversation went badly, with her snapping that she didn't want to talk about it before ensuring that others came over to join them. She might not have stormed off this time around, but she pointedly spoke to the new arrivals rather than him, with a forced cheerfulness presumably intended to convince Kyle that she was fine and there was no problem here at all.

  He came away from the encounter feeling frustrated and a little embarrassed, wishing that he'd never bothered trying to explain himself in the first place. He also felt confused, not least about whether he was merely trying to win Joss's friendship or was hoping for something more. There were certainly prettier women on board, so why was he spending so much time and effort trying to get into the good graces of this one?

  On the plus side, the energy veils had held up admirably, with no sign of tearing or damage following the two jumps since his repairs. Also, he continued to feel far more comfortable around the rest of the crew, as if they really had accepted him now. He began to wonder whether his previous sense of isolation was the result of a milder form of what Joss had shown him; that the crew as a whole had subconsciously resented his presence as a reminder of the friends they'd lost. If so, his success in fixing the ship's drives seemed to have overcome their reservations; in all bar one instance, at least.

  Something that continued to surprise him was the lack of fatigue evident among his shipmates. Not in the sense of physical tiredness, but rather the simple wearing down of spirit that spacers usually suffered after being cooped up for so long within the confines of a ship. From what he'd been told, these people had been stuck aboard The Rebellion for an age, and yet he heard no real griping, not even when they learnt that Kethi and Leyton had escaped to the planet below while everyone else remained up here. He supposed this was to do with their culture. On any other ship, he felt certain there would have been muttered complaints on all sides.

  He was on his way to engineering when he glanced down a branching corridor and saw Joss again. She was with someone - Simon - and she was leaning into him, hugging him. Joss looked up and saw Kyle at the same instant he almost stumbled. Then he was past and hurrying on towards his station, without a word spoken. Joss and Simon?

  His shift went by in a blur, even though there was little for him to do. He couldn't get the image of Joss's head on Simon's chest out of his mind. Who'd been hugging whom? Had they both been hugging each other or was it only one way? Where had Joss's arm been? Was it around Simon or by her side? He tried to remember, tried to analyse the picture in his mind's eye, but the more he thought about it the less he trusted his memory and the more variations he could envisage.

  Kyle was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he missed the big news. Only when he dropped in to the rec room at the end of his shift did he hear. The Retribution had arrived. Rumours were rife that she had brought a VIP with her, though if any of the off-duty bridge personnel knew who it was, they weren't saying. Kyle wasn't really in the mood for the animated gossip that was flying around the room and didn't even know the other two names which kept being bandied about - Nyles and Mya - so he decided to make an early night of it and headed for his quarters.

  The way life had been slapping him around of late, he probably should have been prepared to bump into Joss at the rec room doorway, but he wasn't. She looked as embarrassed as he felt. None the less, he remembered his manners and stood back, ushering her into the room.

  "Look, I wanted to explain about what you saw earlier, me and Simon..." she started to say.

  He waved away her words. The last thing he wanted right then was an awkward conversation, and he certainly didn't need her pity. "No problem. You don't have to explain yourself to me," he assured her. "Have fun." With his best imitation of an unconcerned smile firmly in place, Kyle brushed past her and strolled on towards his room.

  Kethi and Leyton were in transit back to The Rebellion when The Retribution arrived. Catherine Chzyski had offered to put them up at Kaufman Industries' expense, but they declined. Not because they had any qualms about trusting Kaufman Industries' CEO, but they decided it was safer to return to the ship, bearing in mind their rebel status and the fact that Home was not some backwater planet but a significant world deep within ULAW space. The meeting itself had gone remarkably well, with common ground apparent from the off, after which all parties were able to contribute information that the others lacked. The fact that both groups had reached similar conclusions independently strengthened their conviction that they were on the right track. A further meeting had been scheduled for the following day. Finding likeminded people was one thing, now they had to decide on what to do next.

  Both Leyton and Kethi left in buoyant mood. It was hugely uplifting to realise they weren't alone, and that a corporation as powerful as KI was sympathetic to their cause.

  The good mood didn't last long.

  News of their sister ship's arrival came as no surprise - Kethi had ensured a coded message was left for Nyles informing him of their destination - but news of The Rebellion's additional passenger did.

  "You've brought who with you?" Kethi asked.

  "I know, but things aren't always as clear cut as they might seem, Kethi," Nyles told her.

  The tone Nyles habitually adopted when addressing Kethi never ceased to amaze Leyton: patronising, as if she were a child. He supposed it came from the man having known her since she was. Leyton for one didn't welcome the return of the habitat's leader. In his absence, Kethi had blossomed, growing into the responsibilities of command, and that tone had seemed light years away. Now, here it was again, in the very first communication between the two of them.

  "Mr Benson has provided us with some fascinating intel and has convinced me that he's not our enemy. In fact, far from it," Nyles continued. "He, Mya and I will transfer to The Rebellion shortly, allowing Captain Forster to withdraw The Retribution. I don't like having two of our ships exposed like this so deep in ULAW territory. We can discuss the matter further when I arrive."

  "Are you all right?" Leyton asked once the connection was broken. Their own shuttle was about to dock with The Rebellion and Leyton knew that once they were back on board she'd be too busy for any private conversations.

  "Yes, I'm fine," Kethi replied, though her face suggested otherwise. "I'm just thinking about the reallocation of cabins all over again."

  "Bullshit; that's just logistics. What's really bothering you? Is it the prospect of losing the captaincy now that Nyles is back?"

  She smiled. "Maybe, a bit. I've enjoyed being captain, I have to admit, but it's more than that."

  Of course it was. "Benson."

  "Yes!" and she frowned, looking anxious, frustrated, and perhaps even a little angry. "I've spent so much time looking into all this, and it's been like chasing shadows. There are hints and half clues about the people responsible, but hardly ever anything concrete. They are adept at avoiding the limelight, these faceless kingpins. Identifying them with any certainty has been impossible most of the time. The one name that's emerged from the murk and shadows enough for me to point at and say 'yes, he's one of them' is Benson's. To me he's like some dark spider sitting at the heart of a web of manipulation, misinformation and conspiracy, pulling the strings and making his puppets dance, and now Nyles turns up with this man and presents him to us as an ally?" She shook her head and looked at him, as if seeking reassurance. "What do you think? Am I too close to this, reading too much into Benson's role? You know the man, you've worked with him."

  "I don't know," he said. "To me Benson was the political side of what I did. He was the man who represented ULAW, who issued the assignments and told me what needed doing. I always viewed him as a bureaucrat, a politician; not exact
ly a figure of fun, but someone to be humoured, whose world moved in a completely different orbit from mine. Then he was put in charge of things at New Paris and I had to start taking him a whole lot more seriously.

  "As for knowing him... no, not really. I don't think any of us ever did."

  "But can we trust him?"

  That was the question, of course, and he knew that Kethi was looking to him for the answer. "For as long as it suits him, yes," he said. "And there's no question that Benson could prove a useful ally. He's shrewd, perceptive, and knows a lot more about the inner machinations of ULAW than I do. The trick is going to be recognising the point at which his interests no longer coincide with ours. Then... watch out."

  "That's what I thought," she said. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of."

  Kyle tended to sleep on his side much of the time. So when he came awake to the soft movements of somebody slipping into bed, he had his back to them. Even so, he reckoned the field of likely candidates was pretty limited. He lay there, not moving, not reacting, not wanting to spook her.

  "You'd have liked Wicksy," she said softly.

  "Yeah," he replied, "I'm sure I would have done."

  She snuggled up against him - her thigh against his, the soft pressure of her breasts on his back, while her hand reached round to rest on his stomach. Joss was something special. He'd bedded many prettier girls in his time but none more beautiful. It seemed to him at that moment that all his previous conquests had been shallow, two dimensional, or at least his perception of them had been. There was a lot more to Joss than that, a greater depth, and he was delighted to feel all of her dimensions cuddling up against him right now. He sensed that this was all she wanted, at least for the moment, and that was fine by him; that was enough for both of them.