The Fifth Quadrant

by C. J. Ryan

  “I see,” said Gloria. “So what are our options?”

  “I can stay here for a month and try to see this through on my own. Or, when we get back to Earth, we can send one of OSI’s lawyers here to deal with it. Either way, we’re stalled for at least a month. No recent word from the Financial team we sent to Staghorn, so I don’t know where we stand at that end.”

  “Well,” Gloria said, “let me contact the Sector 21 Administrator and see what I can do. In the meantime, you might as well join Althea and the boys on the committee circuit and start schmoozing.”

  Gloria turned to Petra, who was sitting on a sofa next to Pug, glumly staring off into space. Petra had spent most of yesterday afternoon dealing with the Central Police. She had called them when she found Quincannon’s body, not knowing what else to do. When the initial shock had worn off, she had called Gloria, who dispatched Arkady Volkonski to the scene. The Central Police, who had had their fill of Dexta Internal Security in the past week, tried to keep him out of the way while they interrogated Petra, but he had simply run roughshod over them and rescued Petra from a grim ordeal. Volkonski, citing the superior mandate of Dexta and Imperial Security, had told the cops as little as possible about Petra’s interest in Quincannon and B & Q Shipping, then marched out of the building with Petra in his grip.

  “Petra,” Gloria said, “I know you had a rough day. But is there anything you can tell the rest of us about your investigation?”

  Petra looked around the room. She was among friends, but she seemed reluctant to talk about what had happened. “I’ve turned up a few things,” she said. “I’m not really sure what to make of it all. But, Arkady, there is something that you should know. The bill of lading for that Savoy shipment mentioned eighteen two-hundred-quadrijoule plasma bombs.”

  Volkonski nodded. “Internal Security suspected as much, but it’s good to have confirmation. I’ll inform Quadrant Security immediately.”

  Gloria stared at Petra for another moment, then moved on to Pug. “How about you, Pug? Anything?”

  He shook his head. “I found a couple of people yesterday who were here in 3163, but they didn’t know anything about that shipment. There are three others that I couldn’t find, but they are supposed to be around here, somewhere. I’ll keep trying.”

  “Okay.” Gloria got to her feet and the others did the same. “I want all of you to stay alert. Arkady’s Bugs will be assigned to cover each of us, just in case, although I doubt that what happened yesterday has any direct connection to OSI. So let’s all just do our jobs and be happy in our work. Have a good day, people.”

  Jill, Althea, Brent, Darren, and Arkady left the suite. “Petra,” Gloria said to her, “would you stay for a few minutes? Pug, she’ll catch up to you later.” Pug nodded and left.

  “Do you want me to stay, too, Gloria?” Elaine asked.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Gloria told her. “I want to have a few words alone with Petra.”

  “Are you sure?” Elaine asked again. “It’s no trouble, really.”

  “Don’t take this spying business too seriously, okay? I’ll see you in a while at the Convention Center,” Gloria said. Elaine walked slowly from the room. When she was gone, Gloria went to Petra and hugged her. “I’m awfully sorry about what happened. It must have been a terrible thing for you.”

  Petra shook her head. “I was just stunned,” she said. “I don’t think it really got to me until this morning. I woke up and it suddenly hit me that Jamie Quincannon wouldn’t be getting up this morning. Nice old man, must have been a hundred and twenty, and suddenly, it’s all just…over. Spirit, Gloria, I feel awful! I mean, what if something I did…?”

  “None of that,” Gloria insisted. “You can’t let yourself think that way. You have a job to do, and a lot of lives might depend on your doing it right. Quincannon’s death doesn’t change anything, Petra. You can’t start second-guessing yourself.”

  They sat down on the sofa and Gloria poured coffee for them. Petra took a small sip of hers, then put her cup down on the coffee table. “Gloria?” she said. “There are some things…things I didn’t tell the police.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You did the right thing. Quincannon’s murder may have had nothing to do with our investigation. Let the police handle their end of it, and if anything turns up to connect it to what we’re doing. I’ll inform them when I think it’s appropriate.”

  “But there are other things, too. Spirit, Gloria, this is turning into something that I didn’t…didn’t expect. Did you know that Whitney Bartholemew, Senior—”

  “Was in the zamitat?”

  Petra’s mouth fell open. “How did…?”

  “I have some additional sources of information,” Gloria told her. The additional source had been Anton Grosz, who had delivered a one-time-only message from Ed Smith the previous evening. Gloria had played it on her pad; then the message destroyed itself and any traces of its presence.

  Smith had told her that he had talked with some “senior people” in his organization. He had learned that Bartholemew had “scammed the insurance” on the missing freighter, making a handsome profit, while selling off the freighter that had presumably been lost at Savoy. Meanwhile, Smith said, the original Savoy consignment had been spirited away from New Cambridge on three separate shiploads. His sources didn’t know where it had all gone.

  Petra seemed annoyed that Gloria was ahead of her. “You mean I’ve been digging through all those old files, and you already knew everything?”

  “Not at all,” Gloria assured her. “My source has only very sketchy knowledge of what happened. But he did say that the shipment that was supposed to have gone to Savoy was broken up into three different shipments and sent somewhere from New Cambridge. He didn’t know where.”

  “Three?”

  “That’s right. Why?”

  “That doesn’t make sense. I mean, one of the weird things I discovered was that the Savoy shipment only came to about 27,000 tons, and the freighter had a capacity of 60,000 tons. It would have been flying half-empty. But now, you say those 27,000 tons were divided in three, then sent away in other freighters.”

  “Maybe they were smaller freighters,” Gloria suggested. “Three ten-thousand-tonners.”

  “Yeah,” Petra agreed, “that would explain it. But that really complicates things.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, a 60,000-ton freighter is strictly space-to-space. They can’t land. But a ten-thousand-ton freighter can make planetfall.”

  “So?”

  “I was thinking that we might have been able to trace where that original freighter went instead of Savoy. There are only so many planets that have orbital storage facilities. We could have checked every appropriate planet within, say, two hundred light-years of New Cambridge to see what 60,000-ton freighters docked at their orbital stations during, say, the last four months of 3163. It would have been a huge job, but eventually we might have turned up something. But now, if they used three smaller, planet-capable freighters…”

  “I see what you mean,” Gloria said. “They could have gone practically anywhere. But still, that was a good idea, Petra. And something else occurs to me. Did the B & Q records say anything about what other freighters B & Q had available? Like, say, some ten-thousand-ton jobs?”

  Petra’s face lit up. “I didn’t check for that, but I will. Wow, Gloria, that’s a great idea! I’ll get right on it.”

  “That’s why we pay you the big bucks, Petra. Sounds like you’ve been making a lot of progress.”

  Petra shook her head. “I’m not sure if I have or not. It’s all pretty confusing. One thing, I think that the Dexta contracts with B & Q were altered, or written after the fact.” Petra explained in detail the reason for her suspicions.

  “Interesting,” Gloria said. “And you say that Cornell DuBray signed the contracts?”

  “DuBray and a lot of other people. Don’t make too much out of that, Gloria. It would have been odd if DuBra
y or someone in his office hadn’t signed those contracts.”

  “I suppose so.” Gloria sighed. “Damn, if we could just tie him into all of this, somehow…”

  Petra looked down at her coffee cup. “We can,” she said.

  “What?” Gloria stared, wide-eyed, at her assistant. “Out with it, Petra! What have you got?”

  Petra sighed heavily, then looked at Gloria. “I had lunch…I mean, I met with Whitney Bartholemew, Junior two days ago. I learned some things…personal things…that sort of connect DuBray with Whit’s father. I’m not sure exactly how, but…well, it seems that DuBray was engaged to Saffron Mingus at about the same time we’re investigating. And then, Whit says that Norman Mingus forced them to break off the engagement and sort of delivered Saffron into the arms of his father. I don’t know what it all means, but if you’re looking for a connection…”

  “That certainly qualifies,” Gloria said, leaning back against the sofa. “Spirit…you say Norman did all of this?”

  “That’s what Whit says. Of course, he hates his grandfather, so who knows what the real story is? Except that I think he was telling me the truth.”

  “I think so, too,” Gloria said. “I met his mother the other night. Did Whit say why he did it?”

  “Just that it suited his needs. It was all about power, according to Whit. He’s kind of hung up on that subject. Gloria? There’s something else you need to know about all of this. I didn’t just have lunch with Whit. I made love with him.”

  Gloria looked at her. Petra didn’t exactly look guilty, but she didn’t look very happy, either.

  “I see,” Gloria said slowly. “And do you think that Whit could have been saying all these things just to get you to go to bed with him?”

  “I suppose it’s possible. That’s why I thought I should mention it. I think he was telling the truth, and I don’t think he had any reason to lie. I mean, it was pretty obvious from the moment I walked in the door that we were going to wind up in the sack.” Petra practically blushed, not in guilt but in embarrassment, it seemed to Gloria.

  Petra sighed. “Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a Tiger,” she said.

  “Petra, you don’t have to be me, you know. I don’t need a clone for an assistant. I need you…Petra Nash. That cute little girl from Weehawken…remember her?”

  “Vaguely,” Petra said. “But she’s been running with some pretty fast company lately.”

  “You think she got lost?”

  “Maybe. Dammit, Gloria, I just don’t know anymore. I mean, I enjoy all the outrageous things I’ve been doing, and wearing these ridiculous outfits and, yes, I enjoyed being with Whit. Pug’s been cheating on me with Steffany Fairchild—at least, I think he has—and I just figured…well, you know. But so much has been happening, with Pug, and the Ellisons, and Whit, and this whole investigation, I just don’t think I’m sure who I am anymore, or where I’m going.” She looked at her boss. “And speaking of where I’m going, I think Pug’s going to take that job on Pelham.”

  “I see. And are you going to go with him?”

  Petra started to answer, stopped, started again, then simply threw her hands into the air. “Who knows?” she said with a forlorn laugh.

  “Well, I’m in the same boat, kiddo. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do about Charles. He’s coming here, by the way. Going to make some major address at the end of the Meeting. I just hope he’s not planning to announce that we’re getting married again.”

  “Whit said something to me about those ancient princesses that used to get married off to royalty because of power politics. He says that’s pretty much what happened to his mother. Gloria? Don’t let it happen to you.”

  Gloria chuckled, then squeezed Petra’s knee. “Thanks for the advice. But it’s not my family that’s putting the pressure on. It’s me. Oh, my mom would love it if I became Empress, but the main thing is that I think I might love it, horrible as that sounds.” Gloria got to her feet and struck a regal pose. “The Empress Gloria, Mistress of All She Surveys. Got a ring to it, don’t you think?”

  “You’d be great at it, Your Highness—if that’s what you really want.”

  Gloria flopped down on the sofa again. “That’s the kicker, isn’t it? Petra, how does anybody know what they really want? I want to run Dexta someday, but I also sort of want to be Empress.”

  “And I want to stay with Pug—but I also want to stay with you, whether it’s in Dexta or Rio or wherever. It’s not always easy being your assistant, Gloria, but it’s never been boring.”

  Petra’s brow suddenly furrowed, and she looked very serious. Gloria looked at her and said, “What?”

  “Gloria? They beat him to death. I mean, someone pounded on his face until it looked like strawberry jam. At first, I wasn’t even sure it was him. I had to take a good, long look. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. I want to ask, who would do a thing like that? But I already know who would do it, and what’s more, I know why. The zamitat.”

  “We can’t be sure of that,” Gloria said.

  “It was them,” Petra insisted. “Gloria, there are some things I haven’t mentioned because…well, because it might get both Pug and Whit in trouble. If I tell you, you have to promise me you won’t do anything about it.”

  Gloria was silent for several moments. “That’s a lot to promise,” she said at last.

  “I know. But you have to promise.”

  “All right,” Gloria said. “You have my word.”

  Petra took a deep breath. “Jamie Quincannon let me download all of B & Q’s records the minute I asked. He didn’t really care. But he made me promise not to tell Whit Junior. But Whit found out anyway. Apparently it showed up on his master computer. Anyway, because of his father’s zamitat connection—and Whit says that he isn’t connected with them—well, he said that the stuff in those files could be embarrassing and damaging. And, well, he asked me to destroy them. I told him it was a felony just to ask me to do that, but he kept on asking.”

  “A natural enough thing for him to ask, under the circumstances,” Gloria said.

  “But that’s not all. That night, Pug asked me the same thing. He said his family and the Bartholemews had always been close and had done a lot of favors for each other. And so he asked me to destroy those files. And both of them, Whit and Pug, said that it could be dangerous if the zamitat ever found out what I had. What Quincannon had done.”

  “But how could they have found out?” Gloria wondered.

  “Maybe the same way Whit found out. Maybe they’ve got a monitor on all of Bartholemew’s old computers. Who knows? But Gloria, who else could have done it? And why? It had to have been the zamies.”

  “Maybe,” Gloria said. “In any case, I’m going to order extra security for you.”

  “But you won’t do anything about Whit and Pug, will you?”

  “I said I wouldn’t. I can understand Bartholemew. But I’m disappointed that Pug would ask that. He knows better.”

  “I think he felt it was something he owed his family, and Whit’s. You’re rich, Gloria. You must understand these things better than I do.”

  Gloria shrugged. “I suppose so,” she said. “But Petra, I’ll tell you this. I’m proud of you for not destroying those files.”

  Petra gave her a wan smile and stood up. “Then I suppose I should get back to them, shouldn’t I? Who knows what might turn up?”

  THE FIRST TERRORIST ATTACK HAPPENED THAT night.

  It was a hit-and-run raid, featuring plasma pistols and chemical bombs that made a lot of noise but didn’t do a great deal of damage. The target was a reception at the K’Spanci consulate. The K’Spanci were a race of flightless, owl-like creatures who had been members of the Empire for more than two centuries. Like other nonhuman species, they felt left out and neglected at affairs like the Quadrant Meeting. They complained—and not without good reason—that extraterrestrial species were underrepresented in Dexta, and that the Empire unfairly discriminated against
them in favor of Homo sapiens. The K’Spanci reception attracted a fair number of alien representatives, but only a smattering of humans. That made it an attractive target for the terrorists—not PAIN, but PHAP, the Pan-Human Alliance for Purity.

  The attack was a failure, in that no aliens, but two humans, were killed. So were two of the three terrorists. The third was captured by Internal Security, who quickly extracted enough information from him to be able to stage a raid on the PHAP command post, such as it was, where two more terrorists were taken into custody.

  It was a relatively minor event, but it served to put everyone’s nerves on edge and caused security to be ratcheted up another notch. Gloria noticed the heightened tension as she made the rounds of committee meetings the next day, and receptions the following night. She was feeling it, herself, and decided to do something about it. The next morning, she rounded up her troops and declared that Sunday would be a mandatory day off for everyone in OSI. Just to be certain that her orders were carried out, she organized a group excursion to a beach resort on the south coast of the continent, and attendance was definitely not optional. Her people were going to relax if it killed them.

  Gloria herself was late arriving from the Transit. She had accepted an invitation from the Central Spiritists to speak before their congregation that morning in their six-hundred-year-old church in the Old City. She figured that it wouldn’t hurt to shore up her support among the Spiritists and, at the same time, remind the Dexta delegates of her special status in the largest religious organization in the Empire.

  She had recited a few passages from the Book of the Spirit, then elaborated on her particular province, Joy. Gloria made it clear that she was in favor of sex, as everyone should be. “I have been reminded lately,” she said, “that not everyone agrees with the wisdom of the Spirit, and that many of our fellow beings embrace other systems of belief. The other day, a woman told me that she thought I was a disgrace and that my behavior somehow degraded women.” The parishioners hooted and jeered at that, but Gloria quickly quieted them.