“Another group? That's the first I've heard of any others. What other group?"
Washton let his gaze stray from the stone in Su's hand to look at Villers. Villers had asked the question, and the issue was an urgent one, but he could see none of the urgency Viller's inquiry bore reflected in his expression. Villers was too calm. Why didn't he trust that man?
Su began lobbing the stone into the air and catching it mere centimeters before it struck Washton's precious desk. Washton chewed harder.
“For your information, Mr. Villers, there are two other organizations interested in our little treasure. One of them, the one to which I believe you were referring to, Mr. Lanno, is a ridiculous religious what-not that calls itself the Twelve Points of Light Mission or something on that order. They have been looking for some time now. We have little to fear from them other than their unseemly public displays that tend to call Council attention to all unlisted organizations—like ours.
“The other one—well, that's another matter that needs to be treated a bit more seriously. They are militant radicals who think the Riddle of the Ancients calls for a political awakening and reorganization. Because of their agenda they are automatically dangerous to everyone and to Pazian life in general. They are armed—much better than we—and some of their leaders are active Paz militia who are very well positioned. In many ways they are much better equipped to maintain their security than we are."
Su kept throwing the stone higher and catching it lower. Washton was beginning to draw blood from the lining of his cheek.
“I have tried on several occasions to infiltrate this organization and have only bodies to show for the effort. This latter group is far more threatening to us than that religious comedy of fools, and I do not want to mix it up with them if it can be avoided. Between those religious fanatics with their public displays and the seditious meanderings of the militants, we have much to be concerned over."
Su put down the paperweight and moved to the window where he looked out over the city as if he might find nefarious inspiration floating over the rooftops of New London. Washton released his cheek and licked at its mangled surface.
“Mr. Lanno, I would like to see you before you return to Nucanda. Come to my office after midday tomorrow, please. Are there any more questions?"
“Yes,” the GoL Vagnu of the High Council said. “It is getting more difficult to keep the Council's investigation away from us. The GoL Hagman has come uncomfortably close on several occasions, and I have reason to believe that he has stumbled upon some of the altered record inputs during the last three periods. I think it would be a good idea to divert their attention to one of the other groups—a diversion that cannot be traced to us. Would that be possible?"
“I do not enjoy doing things like that, Mr. Vagnu. Awfully risky business, you know. Can you find the time tomorrow to meet with Mr. Lanno and myself? I have some other ideas I would like to discuss with you about the Council. We may also do some brainstorming regarding your thoughts on possible diversions at that time."
“That will be no problem. My schedule is open for the next few days, so my time will be my own ... for the most part."
“Very good. Is there anything else?"
Su paused to allow any other questions to be posed and, when none were forthcoming, said, “All right, gentlemen, we have much to do, so let us get to it. Washton, do not forget what I told you."
Washton didn't like that man at all. He was pompous, and he was arrogant. He was also a powerful, cunning, and exceedingly wealthy man—a man with whom it was best not to trifle. More than one of Su's adversaries had termed prematurely or disappeared to some forlorn corner of Paz, never to be heard of again. Washton didn't want his turn to come up too soon. Besides, as Su himself had so aptly stated, he was devious enough to solve that little problem as well.
All in good time—all in good time, Mr. Su.
Once the Delta had pointed the way to extract all that wealth from the Pazian soil, there would be no need to share with five others. Maybe Vagnu—he was seated high on the Council and would continue to be valuable. Lanno, of course, since he was already in the mining business. Yes, Lanno's knowledge and experience would be useful in the future. The others would be of no use after Kaznov gave them the cores and showed them how to run the equipment.
The three remaining directors, with him at the helm, would seize financial control of Paz in short order once they had the majority of Paz's natural resources locked up. Unfortunately, both Vagnu and Lanno were on friendly terms with Su, or so it seemed, and that complicated matters significantly. Washton had no allies. No one he could confide in or rely upon for aid. There was no one who could help him with what he planned.
Washton looked again at the gash in his desk, frowned, and punched some numbers into the link's key pad.
“Hello. I would like to run a screen ad through the remainder of this period..."
* * * *
Within two days the ad began bringing results. Not the results he was hoping for, but it would only be a matter of time. He had placed the ad to run every quarter hour, and he knew that, if the awakening had stirred in Kaznov, he would eventually see it and the Delta would be his.
“Good morning. I am Mando Washton. How may I help you?"
The face on the screen matched the Council pic of one Nikisha Kaznov of Nurusha.
“Uh, yes, sir. I saw an ad this morning about some kind of work at the Museum of the Ancients. Is the position still open?"
“It is. What we are looking for is someone to put together specific information on the shuttles for a research project we are running. May I have your name, please?"
As the Delta gave him his name, Washton's finger found its way into the blemish on his desk.
“Very good, Mr. Kaznov. Be in my office right after first light, say half past first hour, and I'll be happy to lay out the details for you.” There, by cunning and stealth, even the wiliest sanger's weasel gets eaten—head first, with his eyes wide open.
Now that he had the Delta, he would need to get rid of Mills long enough to make it all work. Mills had to believe that Kaznov had left town with his deposit money and that no one knew where he had gone. Washton could handle all that through Sharp, who had control over information going into and coming out of the hotel. He was certain he would be able to manage whatever happened with Kaznov, once he had him in the office. What happened outside of the office was a problem he would also manage, once Mills was gone.
“Pasha,” he said into the com, “get me Sharp on the link and tell him it's TG business. He'll understand. Thank you."
* * * *
Washton looked up as the Delta entered the office. He smiled affably at the young man and said, “Good day, Mr. Kaznov. You are ... punctual."
“Morning, sir. I'm here about the position you were advertising."
“Yes, yes. Please, have a seat."
Washton was beside himself because, though consistently ingenious, his schemes didn't always play out this well.
“Would you like a cup of gillroot or massak?"
“Massak, please. I'm afraid I overslept and didn't get my morning cup. I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping the last few days."
“Good—I mean, it's good you like massak. My secretary is the best massak maker on Paz.” Washton stabbed at the com button and said, “Pasha, please, a cup of your best massak for our young friend here.” He turned back to the Delta and smiled broadly.
“Now, Mr. Kaznov, what we are looking for is someone willing to spend a great deal of time at the museum, taking pics, making measurements, and collecting as much detailed information about the shuttles as possible. Mind you, we know that won't be easy, since there is so little available to start with, but we don't mind taking a lot of time with this research. Our aim is to prove they were designed to be used in mining operations after the first settlement. Do you feel such a project would be of any interest to you?"
“Oh, yes. Yes, sir—absolutely, s
ir."
It was obvious to Washton that his Delta could barely contain himself and that his awakening had, perhaps, progressed farther than he assumed.
“Of course you would—I mean—well, there are few on Paz who could resist such an opportunity.” That he knew because he had taken more than two hundred calls since the ad first appeared. “We pay—"
Washton's secretary entered with a large cup of massak and handed it to the Delta. There was a brief pause as the two of them made a little too much eye contact to suit Washton.
“Ahem ... as I was saying—that will be all, Pasha—we pay one hundred and fifty thousand per period in hard note. You needn't concern yourself with the taxes, we pay all government charges. All you need to do is get yourself out to the museum on a daily basis and do your job. Well, sound interesting, so far?"
“Oh, yes, Mr. Washton. Better than a dream. But how can you ... that is, why are ... no, never mind. It was a stupid question."
“You were about to ask how we can afford to pay so much for this project, Mr. Kaznov, and I will be more than happy to tell you. We are funded by a very wealthy group of businessmen who are anxious to see their investments bear fruit. I am free to do anything, spend any amount, to accomplish that goal. Now, we have procured an apartment for you at East End that will put you within ninety kilometers of the museum. All the required fees have been prepaid—you just move in and enjoy. You will find it to be quite a nice place, comfortable and conducive to thought and work. We want you to devote all your energy to the project, and we felt we should remove as many obstacles as possible. Can you pilot a transport, Mr. Kaznov?"
“No, sir."
“Well, no matter. The public stops near there, and you can use it until you have learned to handle your transport. Oh, dear me ... I forgot to tell you that there is a transport included in the package. You will find it docked at your new apartment and, since you are not familiar with its operation, arrangements will be made for you to receive the necessary training in its use. The transport is a small one, but adequate for your purposes."
Washton had the only direct-line Delta on the planet right there in front of him. His finger again traced the shape of the gouge in his desk while he mulled over the possibilities sitting no more than a meter away.
“Well, what do you think, Mr. Kaznov?"
What was there to think? The Delta was a Teller moth, and Washton's offer was the brightest flame in sight. He knew Kaznov would grab the bait, and reeling him in was no more than a matter of turning the crank. His problem now was to keep Mills from finding out what had happened, although he still didn't understand why Su was so concerned about Mills. Sure, the man was a dolt and a lout, but he was also a member of the TG.
The Delta had not contacted Mills prior to his arrival, or Mills would certainly have called immediately and demanded to know what was happening. In spite of what Su believed of Mills and how revolting a character he was to Washton, he was no fool. Washton wanted Mills occupied elsewhere before the Delta could get back on the street. Things were already in motion, but the timing was dependent upon having the Delta under his control before he could activate his plan for Mills. He excused himself, leaving Kaznov in the office sipping and sniffing his massak.
“Pasha. Call Mr. Sharp and tell him we're ready."
“Yes, sir. Mr. Washton?"
“Yes?"
“Who is this man and what are we doing with him?"
“Never you mind, my dear. You just do what I told you and leave the rest to me."
Returning to his inner office, he found the Delta reading the Riddle of the Ancients on his wall and felt his first twinge of anxiety since putting his plan in action. He had forgotten to take it down before Kaznov's arrival and no one so early in their awakening should be exposed to the riddle. There was no way of knowing what strange ideas they might get.
“Do you enjoy rhymes and riddles, Mr. Kaznov?"
The Delta jumped.
“I'm sorry, sir. I didn't hear you come in. I don't know. I don't think I have what it takes to understand it—not this one, anyway. I'm sure it must mean something to someone, but not to me. No. I don't think I could warm up to it, sir."
Washton needed to get the Delta out of his office and away from the city—mainly away from the harbor.
“Now, Mr. Kaznov, I'm a busy man, and I'm afraid I must cut this short. My secretary will take you out to your apartment, so you'll know where it is, and then to the museum to give you an overview of what it is we are expecting from you."
* * * *
The hours waiting for Sharp's call were almost more than Washton could stand. He liked things to be as tidy as possible, but all of this was a mess from the start and he couldn't predict anything with the kind of certainty he enjoyed in most of his dealings. He had to know Mills was taken care of before he could allow the Delta to return to his cube for his things, but there was a limit to how long Pasha would be able to detain him.
It was apparent the Delta was a considerate type and would want to call his previous employment obligation to inform Mills of his change of mind and return the advance Mills had given him. Three long hours passed before Washton's link activated and the always haggard face of Sharp filled the screen.
“Well?"
“He's on his way south."
“Thanks, Sharp. I owe you."
“You bet you do.” Sharp raised a glass to his lips and drank in large gulps, the fluid pouring out both sides of his mouth and dripping from his chin. “Not feelin’ good, you know. Fix it?"
“Of course, Sharp. I'll send Davro around with a bag tonight. Get some sleep—and remember, not a word to Kaznov about any of this."
“Yeah, sure. Remember ... the bag ... tonight."
Washton cleared the link and let his finger wander across the desktop until it fell into the gouge. Su. Wiggling his finger in the groove, a wry smile appeared on Washton's face. Now he could relax, and things would go according to plan without uncontrollable ... uncertainties.
Mills would be out of the area at least until the middle of winter, perhaps even after Halfyear. If the Delta hadn't awakened fully by then, well, it wouldn't matter too much what happened after that. Washton wasn't sure how long this awakening process of the Delta would take, but he was sure that, if there were no positive signs by then, the Delta was probably a dud and, since he was the only one, Su's interpretation of the riddle would have been worthless to all concerned. Kaznov's arrival in his office was encouraging, but it was not tested fact that an awakening was in process. There were signs, yes, but no proof.
For the moment he was free to begin contemplating what to do about Su, Prang, and Villers. Prang and Villers would be reasonably easy, but Su was another thing altogether. Su had a network of people built up around him, based on the very real proposition that he made enemies without effort and that many of those would happily term him at the slightest provocation or opportunity.
What Washton needed was a plan in which one or more of Su's plentiful supply of existing admirers could get their hands wrapped around the man's throat and squeeze with sufficient pressure to accomplish the desired effect—without implicating Washton.
Running his finger through the groove on his desk again, he chuckled as he considered the possibilities. It would be much more satisfactory to term the shagrat himself. He had the access. If he did the job right, no one would connect him to the deed, not even circumstantially. However, what could he do about the gentracs? Inevitably traces of genetically identifiable material would be left wherever one went, and the Law Apps genetic searches were thorough. Always thorough.
He would have to dispose of all the markers that had been taken throughout his life and replace them with the codes of someone else. Since he had a way into the Council's control files, that would be easy enough to do, but he would have to remember every marker he had ever dropped in order to get rid of the source records, too. Those Law Apps people were efficient. Even one marker that was located could rui
n the whole affair. After the investigation was closed he could go back in, make the corrections to the files, and become himself on the record again.
There were few who actually liked Su, accepting his leadership only because of the power he wielded in the criminal arena and the fact that, if he wanted, he could buy the entire planet and have enough left over to retire on the island of Nufrans. People were afraid of that man, and rightly so. He could control almost anyone with hard note, and those Su couldn't buy would wind up in a lava bed or at the base of one of the many cliffs marking the boundaries of the plates that made up Paz's fragile crust.
Yes, he'd do it himself, and he'd do it in a way that appeared clumsy, even sloppy. Law Apps would have to believe from the evidence that Su had accidentally walked in on some petty criminal engaged in looting his home. In the ensuing struggle, poor old Su had become another statistic in the record. Yes, that would do it, and the idea had all the necessary irony to satisfy Washton's needs. The biggest crook on the planet gets termed by a bumbling neophyte in a battle over nothing. How fitting.
Once Su was out of the way, the general membership would accept Washton's stepping in without question and might even feel better with the upper structure reduced in number. They were getting restless. Not enough was happening to hold their interest—not enough to give them the confidence they needed to continue investing in the movement, and Washton knew he could fix that problem with little trouble on his part. He was already hearing some grumbling about watered-down, top-heavy leadership, which indicated to him that some change was needed to keep the group together.
A man in Vagnu's position couldn't afford the greater risk of being uncovered that the top job in the Generation would engender, so Vagnu would welcome his moving in to occupy Su's vacant seat. Lanno didn't have the time or the personality required for the job. He had his hands full with the Nucanda mine, particularly in view of the damage wrought during the last Days of Disturbance. Lanno would offer no resistance to the change in leadership, either.
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