The Elysium Commission

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  I eased toward Marie Annette. "Dr. Tozzi?"

  She turned. I hadn't realized that she was almost as tall as I was. Her gray eyes were wide-set and penetrating, her skin flawless. She wore a dark gray medical singlesuit, with a pale bluejacket over it. "Yes?"

  "I'm Blaine Donne, and I've been tasked with covering the presentation." I shrugged. "Some of what Dr. Dyorr said was ... shall we say ... daunting, and I have a technical background."

  "The proposal outlines a first step in a graduated effort." She was close enough that I could sense her pheromones. They were damped to levels that proclaimed her female— and uninterested. I suspected that was probably the norm for a surgeon. "Dr. Dyorr is a careful and patient scientist."

  "He seems quite dedicated. How did you become in­volved in the project?"

  "I'm a surgical resident I intend to specialize in neural net surgery." Her smile was icy. "Why did my great-grandmother request mat you evaluate the proposal?"

  "I can't speak to motives, Doctor. I only know that I was hired to do the evaluation and to submit a report."

  "What will you report?"

  "My evaluation of the proposal." I smiled. "What should I report?"

  "That it's one of the few true pure research projects be­ing attempted and well worth the funding."

  "It does seem strange that so little progress has been made in the area."

  "That's because people don't want to know about con­sciousness, just like they didn't want to know about evolution and pan-gaiean life seeds before the Diaspora. When dearly held and illogical beliefs conflict with science, science usu­ally loses." Her smile was polite. "Good day, Seignior."

  She turned and left, and the only ones outside the confer­ence room were the two guards and the aide who had given me the handouts.

  I turned to the aide. "There was a blond woman, one of the observers. I was supposed to meet her afterward, but I got tied up with Dr. Tozzi..." I tried to look embarrassed.

  "Oh ... that must have been Daryla Rettek. She's the scientific media linkster."

  "Thank you."

  On the way back to the villa, I thought about Dyorr and Tozzi. He was certainly committed to his research. He hadn't even so much as glanced at his fiancee during the presenta­tion. She had occasionally looked at him, and she certainly believed in his research. But I wasn't getting the impression that he was turning the heavens to get to her eventual inheri­tance. That could mean he was a far better dissembler than I was a discoverer. I didn't think so.

  When I finally returned to the villa, I drafted a report on the presentation. I had to conclude that it was well organized and that Dyorr had made a convincing case for his research.

  I also ran checks on vonGarodyn, not because I cared about him but because I wanted to know about his aide. In the end, I discovered that she was Cecilia vonKuhrs, the staff director of the foundation, married three times, with two grown children.

  There was very litde on Daryla Rettek. In fact, there was nothing except her identification as the science media linkster for LTnstitut Multitechnique.

  I decided to link Myndanori, but she was out. I left a message requesting she backlink.

  Then I went back to other varied searches.

  Two stans later, all I'd found was more dead ends. By then, I wasn't sure I could find any more of even those. I'd had five commissions. One of the clients was most likely dead, and he'd never even paid a retainer. Worse, my use of his detector had probably led to his death, either directly or sooner than otherwise would have been the case.

  Even after Dyorr's proposal, almost everything I'd dis­covered in the other three cases was based on hints, indirect implications, in fact barely more than nothing mixed with supposition. Scarcely more than a certain slant of light after dawn, or before twilight, even more uncertain than the shad­ows of Thurene.

  What could I do?

  Given what Angelique deGritz had told me, I did run checks on the status of Stella Strong/Maureen Gonne, Vola Paulsky, and Relian Cru, but none showed up as deceased or in the status of the incarcerated or the civilly limited. I also tried on Astrid Forte, although I had no real link that indi­cated she might be the same individual as Stella Strong, but there was nothing on her except a blanked identity in Vannes.

  I began another round of vidlinks, starting with the Artists' Centrality. I'd only gotten talking heads the last time, and not a one had gotten back to me. Three talking heads later, I was linked to a real person, a Carthon Wills. He had a boyish and bespectacled look, even without the spectacles affected by the retrowriters.

  "Seignior Donne, I don't believe I know you. What have you created?"

  Chaos mostiy, or so it was seeming. "I'm not a creator. I'm trying to track down a creator for a project."

  "What sort of creator? I'd have to know the scope of what you have in mind, and a budget estimate would help ..." His smile was singularly unhelpful.

  "I'm trying to track down a Terrie McGerrie. I think she also uses the name Carey Douglass."

  "She does not take inquiries or unsolicited commissions, Seignior... uh ..."

  "Donne. Blaine Donne. I'm not inquiring about produc­tions. I'm inquiring about her. I'm trying to get in touch with her."

  He or his image drew itself up in a poor imitation of an offended cat. "The Artists' Centrality is not an acquaintance linknet."

  "I'm not looking for her for that reason."

  "I have heard that too often, Seignior..."

  "Donne."

  "If you have a commission, or if you would like to leave your contact information, it is up to each artist to make a decision as to whether to return a link." A sniff followed the announcement.

  I had the feeling I wasn't about to get much more from Carthon Wills. "Here's my contact link." I flashed it across, with a brief message requesting that Terrie McGerrie return the vidlink. I doubted that she would.

  I sat at the table desk, not even really thinking. I was just wondering if I'd ever had to deal with so many ambiguous commissions at the same time before.

  Seigniora Reynarda, requesting an appointment here in one stan, sir.

  She doesn't just want to vidlink? That was odd.

  It was just a coded request.

  I’ll see her. It couldn't hurt. While I waited, I sat down and set up several more different search routines. I used the systems to draft a quick hardcopy report for Seigniora Elisabetta Reynarda. I ended up revising it twice before I had it printed out and set on the desk. Then I checked the search results. They added noth­ing new.

  In the few minutes after that, I half thought and half let my mind wander, trying to see if it might offer some bril­liant insight that I could offer Seigniora Reynarda.

  It didn't.

  When Seigniora Reynarda entered the study at quarter past eleven, she looked almost the same as she had when she had appeared weeks earlier. The natural stormy blond hair was perfectly in place. This time she was wearing a fit­ted black singlesuit, with black boots, and a lighter gray short jacket. She wore neither a scarf nor ear jewelry, and only a single silver-gray pin on the lapel of her jacket. The pin was a silver fox.

  Was she claiming ancestry or affinity?

  I moved out from the desk. "Seigniora ..."

  Before I could say more, her black eyes raked me. She stopped a good two yards away from me. "Seignior Donne. For a man with your background and reputation, you don't seem to have accomplished much—except get a citation for swimming in the city reservoir. That does not come under covered expenses, Seignior Donne."

  'The swimming, no. The citation, probably not. Escap­ing a swarm of Arswaran wasps, yes."

  She pulled the single-eyebrow trick She was good at it. That I had to admit.

  I half turned and lifted the clear case from the corner of the desk, then handed it to her. "One Arswaran wasp. It's time-dated. If you can persuade the Garda, they could also confirm it."

  She took the wasp and handed the case back to me. "Ex-acdy what have you
discovered?"

  I handed her the hard-copy report. "I could give you a linked one."

  "This is most suitable... in format." She read the three pages quickly, then looked up. "From what I can tell, you have managed to alert the Elois to your presence and inter­est without finding out more than Maraniss is engaged in something with them, and that Classic Research is involved in a hidden effort on Legaar's estate requiring a massive amount of power."

  "Also that the Elois have a measure of effective control over what the Garda in Thurene observes and whom they harass, and that they have snoops and taps in almost every aspect of the record system of the Civitas Sorores."

  "You have found nothing about a link to Elysium?"

  "Only the probability that it is the project being under­taken at Time's End and that I've observed at least three military-style RPFs patrolling that perimeter."

  She offered a snort It wasn't that good an expression of disgust. "You've established that they're probably doing something illegal but without enough proof for the Garda or anyone else to act But then, they always are. That's their methodology. Just to show my goodwill, I'll even provide another five thousand as remuneration for what little you have discovered, and for your difficulties with the wasps. I think ten thousand credits should be sufficient for your time and even the cost of the citation."

  Before I could speak, Max verified that the receipts ac­count had accepted another five thousand credits.

  The black eyes fixed on me again. "If you wish to inves­tigate further, and if you find more, you'll do it without any more advances. I'll contact you later. If you can find a definite link, I'll pay another ten thousand credits. Otherwise, I'll pay nothing."

  "I'll see what more I can find out." How hard I'd try was another question. Still, it was worth a few more stans of work.

  "Good day, Seignior."

  I watched her go. I had a very uneasy feeling. Feminine as my scans and systems showed her to be, she still exuded no pheromones. I could only hope that some of the nan-otraps from the desk and the case were sticking tight.

  She was barely into the private limousine before Max in­formed me, Incoming from Del Shannon.

  Accept.

  The colonel appeared in the space before the study desk. "Donne."

  "Yes, Colonel. What can I do for you?"

  "You can talk to Officer Javerr when he arrives, for one thing."

  That was one of the last things I'd prefer to do, but I couldn't very well play runaway. "Could you tell me what we'll be talking about?"

  "I'm sure Javerr can explain it, Donne." Shannon smiled. It wasn't a friendly expression. "If you'd rather, we could insist on your coming here to headquarters."

  "I'll be happy to talk to Officer Javerr, Colonel."

  "I thought you would be. You've always been reasonable."

  "Can you at least tell me when to expect him? I'd rather not miss him."

  "Very shortly." The colonel broke the link.

  Shannon had never been so cold, not even when we'd had to deal with the Frankan incursion in the Grenadan sector, where we'd initially been hammered.

  Shortly turned out to be less than a quarter stan.

  Garda flitter incoming, sir, announced Max.

  Hold the defenses.

  Javerr dropped his flitter right into the courtyard, almost at the base of the steps. The armament was aimed at my front door. What the Garda carried wouldn't have done much damage, but there was no point in letting them know that. He walked up my front steps as if he owned them.

  I met him at the top, just outside the columns framing the main entry. "Would you care to come into the study, Officer?"

  "Not especially, Seignior Donne, but it would make the most sense."

  He followed me across the entry hallway, trying to record everything in sight. There wasn't much there.

  The door closed behind us, and he took two more steps before stopping and turning. "Where were you on Domen morning, Seignior Donne?" Javerr made "seignior" sound like a curse.

  "I was here in the villa, Officer."

  "You were here all day?"

  "I certainly was."

  "And I suppose you were here all day Senen as well?"

  "No. I went to brunch at my sister's house."

  "Just the two of you, I suppose?"

  "No. There were four other people there."

  "Close friends?"

  'Three of them I'd never met before, Officer." That upset Javerr, or at least surprised him. "Who were they?"

  "My sister and her business partner, an academic econo­mist from the university, and two dynamic re-creators who provide stories out of the early interstellar period."

  "How long were you there?"

  "Until midafternoon."

  "Then where did you go?"

  "I came back here. I had work to do."

  "I understand you have a connection to Lemel Jerome."

  "That's certainly no secret. He occasionally engages me to provide information for his various projects."

  "Are you working on one now?"

  "I have in the past, Officer Javerr. I am now."

  "On what?" He didn't quite snap.

  "You'd have to get his permission for me to reveal the ex­act nature of the project. I can say that every commission he has given me has dealt with information on whether some individual or corpentity might have been infringing on one of his patents."

  "You won't tell me?"

  "Not without his permission, no." I paused. "Could you tell me what this is all about, Officer?"

  A quick hint of indecision flickered about him before he spoke. "There's no reason not to, now. Lemel Jerome was killed in an explosion in his dwelling sometime after mid-morning on Senen."

  On Senen? The energy surge I'd felt when he'd been cut off occurred the day before, on Domen. "Lemmy? Killed? On Senen?"

  "That's what all the evidence shows. There wasn't much left of his dwelling, and less of him."

  Was I losing my mind? If Legaar or someone else had de­stroyed Lemmy's place a day after the vidlink had crashed, then what had caused the crash? Why hadn't I heard some­thing? Or had Lemmy set up something to throw Legaar Eloi off his trail? Or was Javerr trying to mislead me?

  Javerr watched me. "You really didn't know, did you?"

  "About his death on Senen?" I shook my head. "I knew there was something wrong because when I tried to link him to give him a status report, I got a system talking head. I kept getting it."

  "You didn't go looking?"

  "I've never known where he lived or worked. That's of­ten true of my clients and commissions."

  Javerr kept battering me with questions, all from the same angle, but after close to a stan, he quit. It wasn't a sur­render, but more like an armistice until he could find an­other weakness.

  After he departed, I wandered across the study and looked out on the verandah. The late-morning light appeared chill.

  Incoming from Terrie McGerrie, Max announced.

  Accept and record.

  The holo image that appeared in the air in front of my table desk was that of a small blond woman, with fine fea­tures and gray eyes. Her chin was slighdy pointed. She turned, as if to face me. I could tell it was an altered image, not by anything obvious, but by the smoothness and direct­ness of the motions. "I believe you vidlinked seeking me. I wish to inform you that I accept neither unsolicited com­missions nor inquiries. Nor do I respond, except in this fashion, to such. Good day."

  The holo image vanished. Another dead end.

  Except there was something ... something about her. Or had it been her words or her way of speaking?

  Try as I might, I couldn't dig out what it might have been. I set that thought aside. I needed to check on what the snoops I'd placed on Seigniora Reynarda had found. If anything.

  25

  A man belittled has almost the fury of a woman scorned—almost.

  Once the seigniora left the villa, I discovered that she'd im­mediat
ely neutralized all the snoops. I couldn't hear what was going on, but I could still follow the tracking patterns. The limousine made its way to the Boutique, where Rey­narda apparently wandered through the shops around Maiden Lane. Then she and all traces of the snoops van­ished. One moment, her location was registering normally. The next, there were no signals. That alone confirmed my uneasy feeling.

  Who was Seigniora Reynarda? Someone had clearly bor­rowed the name, if not the methods of the Fox. Was it some government entity? Neither Special Operations nor any Assembly-level unit would risk having the commander court-martialed, not to mention facing planetary charges. Meddling with local citizens, or even with a former special operative, couldn't be worth that kind of risk. And I couldn't see why the sisters would bother with using a front like the seigniora. They could monitor me through the Garda in any public place and track any public act I did.

  Whom did that leave? Another corpentity? I snorted. Who else could it be? Who else wanted to expose Legaar and not leave any traces? The problem was that, if I wanted to track those behind the female facade, I could be looking at almost any corpentity in Thurene, if not from even more distant stars and climes. Except that I had the feeling that the seigniora's feminine form had merely concealed another woman, probably a samer, but that was far from certain.

  Did I want to pursue the Elysium contract on her terms? Not really, but I had the feeling that, dangerous as it had been and might be, not tracking Legaar might prove even more dangerous, now that he and his systems knew I was in­terested. By dealing with Tony diVeau I'd emphasized that. But I'd hated the idea of a glad-handing sleazy banker snooping my systems. I couldn't let that go. Not if I wanted to retain any effectiveness in my line of work.

  More to the point, credits were credits, especially with my level of expenses.

  I frowned. I'd been concentrating on the Elois and on Maraniss. That hadn't gotten me anywhere. What about tracking more information on those around them?

  Max, search all names associated with the various Clas­sic corpentities... or with Eloi Enterprises. As possible, match names with jobs. Limit search to this past calendar year. Then I recalled that Odilia had also provided lists in the dataflat she had slipped to me. I added those names to the search.