by Sarah Zettel
“Right. Just a taste of chaos.” The memory of Lipinski’s frightened eyes and Al Shei’s hard ones filled her private mind. “And they’ll give in.”
“They’ll have to,” said Curran firmly. “They cannot survive without their networks.”
What if they want to try? she wanted to ask. What’ll we do then?
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Verence. “If they try to survive without the nets, then we still have our home. We will still be able to put what we’ve learned from you and Flemming to work and begin creating our own children. We won’t need the Human-run networks to create them for us.” She felt a wave of pride swell inside him.
“We do need some Humans,” he went on, “for repair work and construction until we can get more mobile units like this module set up. As long as some of them are willing to deal with us, we’ll have what we need. We can at the very least count on the Freers to be on our side, even if we do have to put up with their bizarre doctrines.”
“Yes. Right.” Dobbs shook herself and smoothed out into something approaching her normal shape. “It has to happen, right? Without it, we’ll be hiding for another two, three hundred years.”
“Exactly,” said Curran. “We’ve identified the key points we need to work on, and we’ve already got most of our talent in place. I was hoping, Dobbs, with your communications expertise, you could help identify any vulnerable spots we might have missed.”
I haven’t been a comm program since I came to myself on Kerensk, she thought. Well, there must still be something back in there.
“Sure. I’ll do what I can.”
I just wish Al Shei would stop staring at me.
The big, boxy security camera over Marcus Tully’s hatchway was mounted on a shiny, new bracket. Most of station security was unobtrusive, but this was a blunt reminder that while it might be against Solar law to record the private conversations of non-violent criminals, the Landlords, and, by extension, the Management Union, knew who had come here.
Al Shei glanced at Resit, who just shrugged and transferred Incili from her right hand to her left before putting her palm on the hatchway reader.
Both Tully and the Landlords must have approved of her, because the hatch cycled back.
The room on the other side was barely the size of a cabin aboard the Pasadena, and it felt much more crowded. In addition to the bunk and desk, it had to accommodate a small kitchen and a lavatory that didn’t even have a privacy curtain. The place was a mess of used food boxes and bulbs. A pile of clothes covered a deflated satchel in the corner. The vague odor of too many unwashed dishes and one unkempt human filled the space.
No wonder he looks so haggard, thought Al Shei as she looked her brother-in-law up and down. The defiant glint was gone from Tully’s blue eyes and his face looked like it hadn’t even attempted to smile in a month.
“Peace be unto you,” he said with a sarcastic twist to his mouth. He twitched the bunk’s wrinkled coverlet a little straighter. “Won’t you sit down?”
Resit sat at the desk and set Incili on the boards. Al Shei remained standing. She folded her arms.
“Would you believe me if I said we were here to help?” she asked.
The look on his face said he did believe it, but there was still no light in his eyes. “I’m way beyond help this time, oh-my-sister.” He slumped into the fold-down chair near the stove. “I was turned in by someone I thought had too much to loose to do this.” He glanced up at her. “I’m a little surprised you’re not busy filing your claim on the Pasadena.”
Al Shei looked at the floor. “The Pasadena is impounded because they think the virus you smuggled out of Toric Station is still aboard.”
Tully shrugged. “Well, they’re right about that too.”
“Not anymore they’re not,” said Resit. Tully jumped like he’d been stung. Resit mimicked his shrug. “We’ve had a very bad run. That, however, is not what we came to talk to you about.” She snapped the catch on Incili’s case and raised the lid. “We’ve got a fraud case to file against someone impersonating Dr. Amory Dane. If you can verify our impersonator was the one you met with and did your deal with, then we’ll have some of the evidence we need, and you’ll have some good conduct on record.” She plugged her pen into Incili’s socket and lit up the view screen on the case. “Incili, play back the recording of my meeting with Amory Dane.”
Tully glanced from Al Shei to Resit. His expression seemed to lift with cautious hope. He got to his feet and peered closely at the view screen as the birds-eye view of Resit’s meeting with broad, dark Dane unfolded.
He straightened up and shook his head. “No,” he said heavily. “He’s not mine. Mine was thinner, and about twenty years younger and three shades lighter.”
Resit nodded. “Incili, play back recording of can 78’s flight bay just before the decompression event.” The scene shifted to show a waiting lounge about half-full of the usual assortment of station personnel and passers-through. Al Shei caught a glimpse of Yerusha standing near the hull.
“Was this him?” Resit touched her finger to a tall, fair man. Incili froze the image there.
“Yeah.” Tully nodded. “That’s him.” He looked from Resit to Al Shei. “You’re saying he was in that can when it blew?”
“Yes, that’s what we’re saying.” Resit shut the view screen off and folded her arms. “And I am betting you’re about to tell me you spoke to him after it blew.”
Tully watched his own hands as he rubbed his palms together. Eventually, he seemed to make a decision. “I was just finishing off the hand-over procedures when the can blew. Dane was supposed to call in and give me a location where I could transfer the virus to. He called, with a text only connection. He said it was easier to hide. He offered to double my fee if I left the virus aboard Pasadena so it would get taken to The Farther Kingdom.” He shrugged and looked at the sealed hatch. “I wanted the money, so I said yes.” Tully wiped at his face, as if trying to rub off his stubbly beard. “I shouldn’t have done it. I tried to get back on board to get the thing off, but Schyler wouldn’t let me back on. I knew when I agreed to the job that I shouldn’t have done it, but, so help me God, I couldn’t go back to Ruqaiyya with nothing.” He turned pleading eyes toward Al Shei. “Will you tell her that much? Please?”
You cringing, cowardly, godless, sneak-thief! Al Shei wanted to scream at him. You’ve destroyed my whole world! How dare you pretend you still love my sister! How dare you miss her!
She tugged on her tunic sleeve. “I’ll tell her.”
Resit closed Incili’s case and stood up. “We’d better go,” she said succinctly. “I’ll look up your records, Cousin. If there’s anything I can do, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.” Tully nodded. His gaze was still on Al Shei. “For everything.”
Al Shei couldn’t bring herself to say anything. She just turned and laid her hand against the hatchway reader. Because she wasn’t Tully, the hatch cycled back for her.
She strode across the threshold and out into the corridor. Letting the few people who had authority to be in a secured section make their way around here, she marched straight down the middle of the hallway.
She had gone into the meeting with Tully carrying the idea that Curran had blown out the can in order to kill Amory Dane. But now that idea had sprouted foul branches.
There was no reason for Curran to kill Dane. Curran could have just intercepted the real transmission and sent Tully a false one. He could have just impersonated Dane to Resit. He could have just faked the on-line visual ID to match his own. Resit wouldn’t have done a location check on him, not if everything had gone smoothly. But he blew out that can anyway. Killed two dozen people, injured almost a hundred, to take one life.
“Al Shei!” Resit called a second before she caught Al Shei by the shoulder. “Slow down!” She got a good look at Al Shei’s face and drew back. “And call home again, you’re about to burst a blood vessel from all this restraint.”
&n
bsp; “That’s not it, Resit…” Tell her! You were all ready to tell the Management Union, why don’t you go ahead and tell your cousin-lawyer? Al Shei drew in a long shuddering breath. Because it was too much. She didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want to make it any more real than it was by repeating it to Resit. She didn’t want to risk her cousin telling her she was insane for believing Dobbs, who must have gone over the edge herself at some point. But she’d have to tell Resit. She’d have to tell everybody, and she’d have to do it soon.
Allah, forgive me, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid what will happen when the whole of Settled Space knows what I know. Dobbs had said the Fools would be hunted down. That was true, and that was probably the least of it, especially if she was right about what Curran had done. Networks would be slashed in fear of invasion. Even the Solar System might go the way of Kerensk.
She didn’t even try to finish the sentence to Resit, she just turned away and took a few more steps before she realized she didn’t know where she wanted to go.
Resit caught her shoulder again, more gently this time. “Call, Al Shei. Let me lend you the credit and call down there. Try to get somebody besides Uncle Ahmet. If he really is stonewalling you, you need to find a way around him.”
Al Shei nodded, not trusting her voice. Resit was right, if she didn’t at least try again, she was going to burst.
“Thanks, Cousin.” She squeezed Resit’s hand. “Next trip out you’ll get that retainer, all right?”
“Next time out I’ll settle for getting a little boring routine.” She flashed Al Shei a tired smile. “Get yourself a privacy booth. I’ll get back to my cabin and transfer down the credit.”
Silently blessing her cousin, Al Shei hurried down the corridor. If she remembered right, they had passed a bank outlet three levels down and two cans over.
Back in the public areas of the station, Al Shei had to wind her way through the crowds. She moved as fast as possible, giving out a constant stream of curses under her breath, for which she would have to do a dozen extra du’as as a reminder of the virtues of patience.
She made it at last. Inside the bank outlet, she breezed past the open desks and ducked into the last available privacy booth. It was a lot like the one she had used on The Farther Kingdom, but the chair was less comfortable and Port Oberon had no use for scented air.
Al Shei paused and considered who to call for. If she had one natural ally in the family at this point, it would be Ruqaiyya. She would be as desperate for news about Tully as Al Shei was for news of Asil. She wouldn’t want to hear about his house arrest though, or the condition he kept himself in. Al Shei bowed her head at the thought of her proud sister lifting her chin against that information and finding yet another excuse for her husband. But Ruqaiyya would want to hear Tully’s message for her. She would want to know that he was still alive and real and had not disappeared beyond all reach.
Al Shei wrote out the call request and called up her account. Resit had dumped in more than enough credit. Al Shei sent a silent thanks toward her cousin and transferred enough for ten minutes to Ankara and her family’s home.
Be there, Ruqaiyya. Please, Merciful Allah, let it be your will that she is home.
After ten agonized heartbeats, the screen cleared and Ruqaiyya appeared against a background of gold and turquoise tiles. Like Al Shei, she wore a hijab across her face. Above the veil, her eyes were smaller and more lined than her Al Shei’s, despite the fact that Ruqaiyya was five years younger than Al Shei.
“Peace be unto you, Sister.” Ruqaiyya looked tired, Al Shei realized. No surprise there, considering, but it still worried Al Shei to see it.
“And unto you, Sister.” She replied. “I’m calling…I wanted to let you know I’ve seen Marcus.”
“Oh?” Ruqaiyya’s eyes brightened a little. “How is he?”
Al Shei hesitated, briefly considering a kind lie. No. Ruqaiyya’d hear it in a second. “Not well,” she said. “He’s under some hard charges. Resit’s looking into it, but I don’t know what she’ll find…” A tear glistened in Ruqaiyya’s eye. Al Shei’s palms were damp. She wanted to yell at Ruqaiyya, just like she’d wanted to yell at her husband. How could you do this to yourself! You were so proud, so smart! How could you stay married to him! How can you miss that scum! “He asked me to tell you he did it because he couldn’t stand the idea of coming back to you empty handed.”
Ruqaiyya’s shoulders straightened themselves. “Of course,” she said blandly. She thinks he’s lying. Al Shei glanced down at her own hands against the boards. She doesn’t trust him. Pity for her sister hit her hard. Pity for the pride which Ruqaiyya wore like her hijab and that wouldn’t let her, even now, break away from him. Merciful Allah, what that must feel like, to love the past and be marooned in the present.
Al Shei drew a deep breath. “‘Qai, we think Marcus has been duped into this. We’ve got some…fresh evidence that we might be able to use if we can confirm that the sources are sound.” Hope shone in her sister’s eyes and Al Shei sent a prayer of forgiveness up for the things she did not say.
“‘Qai, is Asil there? I haven’t spoken to him since I got into port, and Uncle Ahmet’s not telling me anything.” She spread her hands. “Truth to tell, O-my-sister, I’m going a bit insane up here from waiting.”
“Oh, Katmer,” Ruqaiyya’s eyes were suddenly filled with pity. Al Shei bridled against the sight. I don’t need sorrows ‘Qai, I need my husband.
Ruqaiyya twisted her hands. “Katmer, Asil has vanished. We can’t find him. There’s no records of his arrest or his confinement. Uncle Ahmet has shaken the Management Union up to the sky, and we still can’t find him.” She paused. “The security investigators are suggesting that he fled to avoid prosecution.”
Al Shei found she couldn’t get herself to move. Her tongue had frozen against the roof of her mouth. Her lungs were still pumping, she could feel them, but that was the only part of herself still in motion.
She forced her mouth to work. “You can’t mean that.”
“It’s true, Katmer. By Allah and the Prophet, I swear we’ve done everything we can. The finances office don’t even have any record of the officers they sent to arrest him.”
“They sent officers?” Al Shei gripped the edge of the board. “There were people? You saw them?”
Ruqaiyya nodded. “I was there. There were two men. Uncle Ahmet inspected their credentials. They stood in the communications room while Asil copied the transaction records they wanted to a portable board, and then they took him to a monorail car while Uncle Ahmet called three different lawyers to get down to the financial investigations office to meet them. They did, but Asil had never arrived. There was no record of anyone being sent out to get him.” She leaned forward. “Uncle Ahmet is in Geneva now, reporting the incident and pulling in every favor he’s got owing. He’ll find him, Katmer. All will be right yet. Just come home as soon as you can, Sister. He’ll surely be back by the time you get here.”
“Yes,” Al Shei heard herself say. “By the time I get there, certainly. Uncle Ahmet would not permit this to go on any longer.” She reached out and shut the line down.
She got up, opened the door on the privacy booth, and left it open. She walked through the bank hatchway, across the width of three cans and up forty-five levels to the berth holding the Pasadena, without seeing anything that she passed.
Katmer, Asil’s vanished. We can’t find him anywhere.
She knew what had happened. He’d been taken by the AIs. There was no one else who could do this. Botched computer records, unidentifiable people. Curran had him, or the Fools had him. One side or the other.
And she had thrown her one source of information off her ship.
Her eyes managed to focus on what was in front of her. She was in her own cabin. For a moment, she wondered how she’d gotten there.
“Intercom to Houston,” she said, sitting carefully down in her desk chair.
“Here,” his voice came back. “What�
�s the…”
She didn’t let him finish. “Lipinski, I need you to do a station search for me. I need you to find out where Evelyn Dobbs is. Right now, do you understand? Right now.”
“Aye-aye, Engine,” he answered. There was a puzzled note in his voice. “Are you…”
“Right now!” The force of her shout pulled her halfway out of her chair.
“Yes, Al Shei. Intercom to close.”
Al Shei collapsed back into the chair. Her shout was rang painfully in her ears.
With fumbling hands, she opened the drawer beside the desk and drew out the day book recorder. She touched the power key.
“Oh, Beloved, I’ve just heard what happened from ‘Qai,” she whispered into the mike. “I’m sure it’ll be all right. Uncle Ahmet is in Geneva and I’ll be on my way towards home tomorrow. I’m sure it’ll be all right. I love you, Asil and when you hear this… “ her voice faltered. “When you hear this…”
Something inside her soul snapped in two. The recorder slipped from her fingers. It bounced gently against the floor before it came to rest at her feet. Al Shei dropped her head into her hands and, slowly, hoarsely, she began to cry.
Where are you, Beloved? WHERE ARE YOU!
Dobbs grazed against the sensor data from her body. She’d been in the network fourteen hours now and hadn’t felt a twinge. Her flesh-and-blood self lay naked on its bed, breathing, absorbing nutrients, and, despite being fed intravenously, probably needing to evacuate its bowels. Verence had promised to come by and show her how to use the waldos to attach the proper catheters so she wouldn’t end up with an ugly mess in case she wanted to get back inside the body.
For most of those fourteen hours Dobbs had been with Flemming, Curran and two others, named Tombe and Shiff. They had exchanged information on the bank network and looked for the most important junctions. Dobbs had suggested that, before the randomizer matrices were set off, they stage a guerilla raid on some of the main bank transmitters on the Earth’s surface. It would be risky because of the security and the diagnostics, but if only one or two AIs went in, and they moved quickly, maybe using viruses take out the diagnostics while they shredded the transmitter processes, it would be a crippling blow. If the Humans worked out that this was part of an organized attack, they would assume it was an attack against the actual transmission-reception hardware, not one against the data being transmitted. It would be that much longer before anyone looked for the true source of the chaos and got together diagnostic programs that had a chance of creating problems for the AIs.