Archform Beauty

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  There wasn't any point in announcing how bad it would be. If we did, there would be panic, and more people would die. So we all talked about the problem of the disease, and made sounds as if the current efforts would limit it—which they would. Just not enough.

  On top of that, Alberico was still trying to add the Southern Diversion to every bill that he could, and I had to spend over an hour on a VRlink with the Continental Water Administrator explaining why it was a bad idea. We didn't need population caps in both Denv and Phenix, and especially not in St. George. Ted's briefing points had been right on target, but I'd have to repeat the effort with more than a few decision makers in the Executory.

  Even Ciella hadn't felt well, for some reason, and I'd insisted that George send her home early. She'd be grateful for my insistence, and there were times when you couldn't buy gratitude. So it was a good idea to stockpile it when you could. Especially among the people who worked for you.

  All in all, I was happy to leave the office.

  Elise was in the foyer when I walked in. She was leaving the formal living area.

  "Elden… I didn't expect you so early, with all that's happened today.”

  "Did you get your nanomed boost?"

  "You just walk in the door, and that's what you ask? With the possibility that the Republic is going to start throwing asteroids and everything else at us? My, aren't you the concerned representative of the people?" Her dark eyebrows arched perfectly.

  I stepped forward and hugged her. "I've made statements and reassured people, and that is about all I can do about terrorists or the Agkhanate or whatever African warlord it might be. I love you, and I care. I can do something to make sure you're safe from this new strain of ebol. It's vicious. And, no, I can't say that in public, either.”

  Elise actually hugged me back for a moment before stepping away. "Terrorists blowing orbiters out of the sky. Another bioweapon gone mad.” She shook her head. "Why? Where will it all end?"

  "The orbiter business… I think there will be a statement from the Agkhanate in a day or so. The Talibanate leadership will announce that they have discovered the group that did it, and have confiscated the materials and the bases. They'll say that the guilty will be punished, and that it was truly regrettable. Then, they'll add words to the effect that given the continuing Russe irresponsibility both in terms of ecologic cleanups and intransigence in dealing fairly with Islamic populations in southern Russe that the world could expect no less, and that until those issues are addressed, there is always the possibility that extremists will take matters into their own hands…” I shrugged.

  "Elden… I see that the day hasn't improved your mood.”

  "No. That's the best possibility. I always hope for the best.”

  "I don't think I wish to hear the worst.” She raised the antique porcelain watering jug she had been carrying and glanced toward my study. "I realized that your cacti needed water. You never do.”

  "If I do, I overwater them.” I followed her into the cherry-paneled study. "The ebol4 could be an accident, or it could be an indirect attack on the EC or us. You wipe out a chunk of the servie and permie population, and people suffer, and they get upset. It strains the medical systems, and that increases costs and hurts the availability of other treatments. That hurts more people. After that, it really hits the service industries. Fewer servies means they can bargain for higher wages. Costs go up, and we all pay a second or third time.”

  "Who would do that?" She dribbled water over the miniature barrel cactus and then over the bonsai Joshua tree. "Would they be that cold-blooded?"

  "About half the world, and they would be. There's not too much the Legislature can do.” I paused, then added, "Bill's worked out a new approach for the campaign.” Elise raised her dark eyebrows, in that way that meant she didn't exactly approve of my dealing with a campaign now. But then, she didn't approve of a lot. Why was she still with me? Because the alternatives were worse.

  She finally spoke. "Which campaign?"

  "The one against Hansen. Mine. It's likely to be most effective on the emtwo level.”

  "I hate that term.”

  "I didn't coin it. Some writer did centuries ago. Kornbluth, I think.”

  "It's still a euphemism, and one that dehumanizes people.”

  "I sometimes wonder if they are human,” I mused, knowing that would get her going, and that she wouldn't think so carefully before she thought.

  "Marching morons—that's what it means. Is that how you think of your dear, dear constituents?"

  "Some of them are. Some of them are far brighter than I am. It takes all kinds, as your brother Eric is always saying.”

  "It's expressed in scientific terms—em squared. And don't we owe everything to science?" Elise's voice could get bitter enough to cut down redwoods, not that anyone would allow that these days. Such a contrast between her voice and her beauty. She was more regal-looking than an ancient princess. It served her well in her position as a talent assessor for NorNet.

  I laughed. "You put it so well.”

  "So just what are you and Bill going to do?" she prompted, which I knew she would, given the choice between discussing the day's disasters, the emtwos, and a campaign strategy. Of course, she could have walked into the living room, with its view of the Rockies, but I would have followed her.

  "It's based on resonance advertising and…”

  "They tried that thirty years ago, and it was a flop, Elden. You're letting Bill use that?" She laughed.

  "There's a new twist to it.”

  "With you there's always a new twist, except the ones offering it are usually redheads—"

  "Elise… you know…”

  She sighed tiredly. "I know you never do anything. You're so afraid you might get caught that the only thing you screw is the public.” She offered that brittle smile. "You were going to tell me about the new campaign.”

  "For one thing, we're going to kick it off early, and we're going to make it very positive.”

  "That's a new twist.”

  I ignored that jab. "We can reinforce the positive aspect with the new rezads. The same message with different background and music for each demographic group and net outlet.”

  "Won't that be too expensive?" I shook my head. "No. We can use the same holo images in all markets, if we're careful. The rez and music parts are different, but they're the least expensive. Bill's lined up a production outfit that specializes in that. Very reasonable.”

  "You always want everything to be reasonable, Elden. It's too bad that the world isn't more obliging.”

  "I've never expected that.”

  "By the way, speaking of Eric, he linked earlier. He wants to see you.” Elise stretched, catlike, smiling. "He'll be here in about fifteen minutes. Would you like something to eat?"

  "I would, and I appreciate the offer.” I grinned. "It's ready, I think. The menu code for the formulator was as complex as I've seen. It took half a databloc, but it's supposed to be good. I thought we could eat on the balcony.” "What is it?"

  "A peanut chicken dish that was very popular three centuries ago. The Soaring Sophisticate re-created it from old files discovered in the ruins of Ellay.”

  While I wasn't thrilled about formulator-created chicken or peanuts, Elise seemed interested and intrigued, and she was intelligent and most beautiful. "Let's try it.”

  She smiled. "Despite everything, Elden, you do try. It's one of your most endearing traits.” So we sat on the balcony, where the screens blocked the wind, but not the late day sunlight, and ate. Elise was right. The chicken was actually good, especially for a change. I told her so.

  "Thank you.” She smiled, warmly, and not cuttingly. "By the way, I did see the doctor this afternoon, right after you linked. Did you?"

  "I have an appointment at eight tomorrow. Earliest they could fit me in.”

  "Good. You may be one of the more powerful men in the NorAm Senate, dear, but you see too many people to take chances.”

&n
bsp; She was right about that. Then, for a woman, especially, she was right about many things. I'd learned that over the years. I did listen and learn.

  "How do you feel about the Russean orbiter?" I asked.

  "Testing the pulse of the people?" Her question was gentle, not biting.

  "Wondering.”

  "I hate to see people die for posturing and gestures.” She shrugged. "I know it happens. It always has. The Russean people keep making messes of their country. They have for centuries, and this is another example. I guess what will happen will happen. I worry more about things like the ebol virus and the PDF asteroid patrol not catching that mining debris.”

  I didn't get a chance to comment because the system announced, Eric Christensen is here.

  Tell him we'll be right there.

  We stood and carted the dishes into the kitchen, and then walked to the front foyer, where I pulsed the door to let Eric in.

  Eric had Elise's dark brown hair and the same large brown eyes. Somehow, they were luminous on her, and almost protruding on him. He nodded as the door closed behind him. "You're looking good, Elden. You, too, Elise.”

  "So are you,” I replied.

  I'll leave you two.” Elise smiled brightly and stepped down the hallway to her private study.

  Eric and I followed her, but only to the first open door, the one to my study. I went in first. I pulse-linked, and the study door shut after Eric followed me inside. The nanite-based privacy screens went on as well. I sat down behind the desk and motioned for him to sit wherever he wanted. He took the replica cherry captain's chair.

  "What do you want?" I figured it was easier, and quicker, to ask. Otherwise, after a half hour of wasted small talk, Eric would slide into whatever he had in mind.

  "What do you think about the ebol4 thing?"

  "You know what I think. It's a mess. It's probably a bioattack from either West Asia or Afrique, and no one can afford to make that accusation because there's no way to prove it—or even come close.”

  Before I could say more, Eric added, "You know that Alberto Martini died last December. Someone has been buying blocks of MMSystems from the family. Your investigation of the fusion tug and power module business made the stock a real steal. Too bad you couldn't cash in on it.” "Did you?"

  Eric laughed. "Conflict of interest on two fronts. CWC is a competitor of MMSystems in some markets, and I'm your brother-in-law. Mikhail would have dismissed me on the spot.”

  "What about MMSystems?" Eric wouldn't have mentioned it without reason. He never did.

  "Whoever controls it has a handle on the future. They control the fusion tug business, and deep-space power cells, and those mean leverage over all deep-space industries.”

  "That's been obvious for years.” I still didn't see exactly where Eric was going, but even the general direction was disturbing. "And the family wants to sell?"

  "Let's just say we think there are… shall we say, extenuating circumstances.”

  "What sort of mess has young Martini gotten himself into?"

  Eric shrugged. "We don't know, but we think he's the one selling. Mikhail thought you might know or be able to find out.”

  It might be worth it, but I'd have to be very careful. "I assume that's not the only reason why you're here.”

  "Not totally. But I did want to hear what you were saying. Or not saying.” He cleared his throat. "There are a lot of contracts at stake in the Southern Diversion. Word is that Kemal will be coming after you.”

  "I couldn't expect anything else.” I paused. "There aren't that many contracts. It's not as big a thing as the fusion tug investigation. Why are you concerned?"

  "You mean you don't want Kemal to turn all of Phenix into westside?" Eric grinned and gestured toward the wide window, toward the mountains and the warrens of Denv's westside.

  That threw me, but only for a moment. I decided to play along, to see what else Eric would say. "What am I supposed to do? Both the Capital District and Deseret District get hurt by it. The drop line is the same. Less water means a lower effective population cap and greater density for Denv, and half the towns in Deseret. Formulators don't make water, not cost-effectively, and people hate population caps.” I glanced at the amused smile on Eric's face. "You didn't come here to get me to spout forth on the diversion issue. You know where I stand, and it's where the retained solicitor for CWC would want me to stand.”

  "Actually, it is. Mikhail worries about anything that might hurt his legacy. He always talks about the Cewitto foresight.”

  "Mikhail Cewitto, the prognosticator?" I laughed warmly. "Or Mikhail Cewitto, head of CWC?"

  "He's been right about most things,” Eric pointed out.

  "Mikhail's especially worried about where this might lead. Kemal's backing Alredd, and Heber Smith is working for Hansen.”

  "I though the changes to the guideway law were what Kemal wanted.”

  "He does. He especially wants a change in guideway maintenance requirements. The Capital District Coordinator's election is in less than three months. Alredd's going after Dewey. With Kemal's money… and less than visible resources…”

  "Alredd can't beat Dewey. Even with Kemal behind him.”

  "No. But what if he makes the diversion an issue in the coordinator's election? That allows him two campaigns, both in Denv and in your district.”

  "We've already got something in the works.”

  Eric smiled—a polite unconvincing expression. "McCall used to work for O'Bannon and Reyes.”

  "They're Kemal's retained solicitors.”

  "McCall was just indicted for murder, you may recall.”

  "I heard that." He committed suicide this afternoon.”

  "How?" I didn't like the way Eric said it. "He turned off his screens and jumped off a sixth-floor balcony.”

  "Interesting.” It was more than interesting. More like chilling. "You're telling me it was murder. Again.”

  "The verdict will be suicide.” Eric stood. "Like I said, Mikhail's worried. He'd like to offer any help he can.”

  "I appreciate that, Eric. I really do.”

  "We'll do what we can, and anything else that we can work out.” He stood up. "Think about it.”

  How could I not think about it? Then, I wasn't Evan McCall—thankfully. There was certainly no doubt that Hansen would be getting more than a few million creds—or the equivalent in some untraceable way—in support from Kemal. That wouldn't be obvious until after Alredd lost to Dewey in the coordinator's election. Even with Kemal's billions, Alredd couldn't beat Dewey, but that election could make mine tougher. A great deal tougher.

  Maybe Bill and I would have to supplement the positive rezads with some targeted ones, not exactly negative, but raising questions about Hansen's motivations. That might work, but we'd have to really lay on the positive stuff first, so that we had a foundation. We'd have to be careful, very careful.

  I also needed to find a way to find out what was happening with MMSystems. That wasn't exactly in my personal interest, but it could backfire all over me if I didn't know what was going on there.

  I nodded. Politics was intricate… and beautiful in its own strange and deadly way.

  Chapter 17

  Parsfal

  By Wednesday afternoon, I hadn't gotten much farther on McCall. I had found and modified the statistics on hurricane frequency and the shifts in the Gulf Stream for Bimstein, and provided some graphics. I'd also run a vote survey on Cannon, but hadn't figured out how to slant the comparison piece between Cannon and Vanderhoof, or how to include Patroclas. Then, after I'd finished with the PDF commander, I'd finally managed to dig up some facts on the previous ebol strains, and then repackage the warning symptoms put out by CDC into something simpler. I couldn't have done it if Istancya hadn't given me a hand with some of the digging.

  Kountze told Bimstein to assign Paula Lopes to handle the ebol4 story, and he did. She had a soothing manner, and what else could we do? Every other year, it seemed, there was anothe
r bioweapon that got loose. The post-Collapse lines of Drew came to mind.

  The white death came,

  And then it left,

  Its scalpel neither

  Swift nor deft…

  For a moment, I just sat there. When I finally got back to the McCall stuff, I'd tried a search on Nanette McCall and came up with a few references, but not many. She had been a physiological child psychologist, well respected, who had published several articles on aspects of post-puberty psychology as affected by physiology. Again, there was nothing to indicate friction between the McCalls, except perhaps that she was always referred to as Nanette Iveson.

  Walter Kerrigan had been a senatorial aide for years, before starting his own consulting firm, which specialized in imaging, not surprisingly, since Kerrigan had been a speechwriter and general newsie-flak for Senator Fontana. He was about five years older than McCall. I made a few links on Kerrigan and discovered he had an impressive list of clients, and few of them were politicians. Kemal was reputedly one of them, but none of my contacts could confirm that. They'd all heard it, but that didn't make it true.

  I wondered about link-calling Maeda Forsala and was about to swallow the screen and do it.

  Parsfal? Bimstein was louder than ever, link limits or not.

  I'm here.

  What else do you have on McCall?

  Not much. I just got back to that one. First, you had me on Super-C. Then, you wanted storm stuff in the Caribbean, remember? Because that hurricane was the earliest on record. And then the ebol4 material. And the water comparison for the Southern Diversion, because of the historic low flows in the Colorado. Why do you need more on McCall?