"I thought I had a lead on a contact," Ari replied. He strolled to Chandaram's side. The woman who presently occupied that space wisely vacated it. "Now I have the, um, nasty feeling one of those two ..." he pointed to the mess, "... might have been it. There are two?"
"Yes." Chandaram nodded grimly. "Just two. I wasn't sure myself when I first saw it."
An impact stain showed briefly upon the window opposite the mess, illuminated by rotating laser-light. Ari frowned, peering closer ... and saw blood on the corner of one partition. And gathered in small globules on the fronds of a leafy potplant by a workdesk. This work hadn't been dragged in from elsewhere. It had happened on the spot.
"GI, huh?" Ari observed with a very profound sinking feeling. Chandaram nodded.
"Couldn't be much else. This was done with just a couple of blows, but there's no collateral damage, nothing else broken, no sign of forced entry, no one lugging heavy equipment, no blood trails ..." He shrugged. "Two people, standing close together, turned into that .. with a nod toward the gruesome object of attention, "... within the space of a second or two."
"Not even flung across the room," said the man on Chandaram's other side, who Ari did not recognise.
"If a GI hits you hard enough," Ari replied, "the fist goes straight through you." Both men looked at him. Ari decided against telling them that Sandy had informed him of that particular fact, in no uncertain terms, during one of their debates over sexual positions. He shoved both hands deep into his pockets, and glanced distractedly out the windows. On the street below, the vast river of protesters continued to march past, alive with banners, waving lights and occasional fireworks. A media cruiser hovered nearby, running lights flashing on special privilege from Traffic Central. Little wonder Chandaram hadn't turned the lights on at floor seventeen-no one wanted to draw attention to this crime scene just yet. Particularly not with the evidence lying in plain view of the windows, and media cruisers going up and down nearby, covering the march. "You have an ID?"
"We think the one on the bottom is Devon Mitchell." "Dewon," Chandaram pronounced it, with his Indian-Tanushan accent. Anglo names weren't the most common in Tanusha, where Europeans were barely twenty percent of the population, and Anglos only forty percent of those. "He's an employee here at Sigill Technologies, services division management. We got a call an hour ago, telling us to ..." Across the office floor, someone finally lost control of their stomach, and vomited. "Look, for god's sake people," Chandaram said in loud exasperation, "the bathroom is just down there. We've got enough problems trying to manage the crime scene without you putting your dinner all over it! If you're going to lose it, go to the bathroom! Heroics just make you look more stupid, right?" With a hard glare at the shamefaced young Investigations woman who wiped her mouth and then ran fast for the bathroom ... probably to throw up again and then get paper towels, Ari reckoned. Another man followed her. Then another.
Chandaram tucked his shirt in, mouth set with hard displeasure. "Anyway," he resumed, "we got a call an hour back from someone our voice analysis just matched to the same Devon Mitchell, telling us to meet him here, he had something very important to tell us. I got here forty-five minutes ago, and found this. The whole Sigill Technologies database has been fried by someone or something skilled and powerful. We've got people looking, but it doesn't look like anything survived. I'm thinking that whoever Mr. Mitchell was about to expose could maybe have been employed here. Maybe a sleeper. Maybe that sleeper had the system bugged and monitored Mitchell's call, and got here before I did."
Ari hadn't had much experience working directly with Investigations-he was far more familiar with Chief Naidu's people in Intelligence. He only knew of Chandaram by reputation, as the guy most Intel people wanted to be working on their particular projects, when Investigations involvement was required. Sandy in particular had recommended him highly, having passed on much information on League network capabilities to Investigations, which Chandaram had used to unravel a large chunk of the old League regime's remaining underground network in Tanusha. Now, he was further impressed.
"Isn't that how Commander Kresnov first survived when she arrived in Tanusha?" Chandaram asked, appraising him with an offhanded look. "Taking a job in a technologies firm under false identification?"
Ari's return look was hard. Chandaram appeared not to notice. Loaded question, it was. Calling her "Commander Kresnov," knowing all too well the far less formal relationship between them. Not to mention the present situation. Ari knew exactly what he was being asked to do. And he didn't enjoy being used as a part of some other investigator's agenda. He wasn't sure Sandy would either.
"Sandy didn't come here looking for trouble," he replied in a low tone. "She was looking for peace and quiet. Whoever did this was differently motivated."
"I have nothing but respect for Commander Kresnov," Chandaram replied. "Not only is she a first-rate soldier and a patriotic Callayan, I also happen to think she's a very nice girl. I could use her help here."
"Secretary Grey's standing order is that she is absent without leave."
"Screw Secretary Grey," said Chandaram. Ari raised both eyebrows at the senior investigator. Chandaram's expression did nothing to indicate he was other than entirely serious. "The CSR's had to put up with that little shit for years as a sop to the hardliners on the left, since they're all so concerned that Ibrahim's a pro-League radical. He might dictate general policy, but I'll be fucked if I'm about to start taking direct orders from him. That's Ibrahim's job. If Grey doesn't like that, he can remove Ibrahim. But he doesn't have the balls."
Ari glanced about the office floor at that frank admission. Chandaram had spoken plenty loud enough for others to hear. All about, Investigations personnel continued about their business unfazed. Evidently they'd heard it all before, and were in total agreement. No question about it, he reflected silently, the pro-Earth, anti-League arseholes on the Left were right in one thing-the supposedly apolitical CSA was definitely not on their side. Figure that into any equation, when the shit really hit the fan.
Ari took a deep breath, and decided to divulge some information. "We're working on some leads. This was one-I got it from the maintenance bay ambush. There was a trace of code left over that matched some Sigill Technologies work when we ran a scan. I've been trying to find a certain sleeper for the last two months, haven't found a damn thing. This might be it ... or maybe not. Maybe there's more than just this. I didn't even know it was a GI until now ... so maybe this is something else entirely, I don't know."
"Old League?" Chandaram asked. "But how could it be?" he corrected himself. "Unless the old administration still has ties to the League's military apparatus?"
"That's Intel territory," said Ari, "not mine. Sandy thinks they'd like to, but the League military's going to be far too busy covering their arses for all the atrocities and other things that happened during the war. The investigations are still going on over there, plenty of heads have yet to roll. There're a lot of senior League officers too scared of their own government's review boards and investigations to be trying anything new against the Federation at this stage."
And he paused, chewing his lip to gaze distractedly out the windows once more. Chandaram waited with a frown.
"So what's the problem?" Chandaram finally asked.
"The sleeper I was looking for," said Ari, "was from Earth." Chandaram's frown grew deeper.
"Earth? That's like saying a fish is from somewhere in the ocean. Specifically?"
"I don't know. The FIA pretty much disintegrated last year with the Dali trials ..." he shrugged, ". . . we'd be stupid to think that's all the old powers there ever had. They still haven't found half the old FIA leaders, after all. They're out there somewhere."
Chandaram blinked, eyes momentarily distracted, but not by the view. "And if this is the sleeper you're looking for?" Ari met his gaze, grimly. "A GI?"
"From Earth. Yes."
Chandaram pursed his lips with an inaudible whistle, and r
an a hand through his black hair. "Have you told the Commander yet?"
"No." And forced a wry smile. "I'm about to."
"Good luck."
"No shit. And you guys thought I got all the best jobs, didn't you?"
"Major Ramoja says it's absolutely not one of ours." Rhian sat across the circular table from Sandy, back to the large potplant that spread its fronds above their heads. Multicoloured lights lit the dark, and wallto-ceiling holographic displays shimmered with dancing shapes and figures about the dance floor. On the open floor itself, perhaps fifty young Tanushans were dancing (or thrashing, Sandy reckoned) to the thunderous, pounding beat.
"Not one of the reform government?" Sandy pressed. "What about the old Callahan administration?" She sat herself with her back to the wall, having selected the table in the furthest corner beside the rear staff door at the end of the bar. Tucked away amidst the confusion of light and bodies, the odds of being recognised seemed pleasingly slim. Except, of course, if one of the people who habitually tailed Rhian about the city saw them together. The dark shades felt slightly ridiculous upon her face either way, but it was a legitimate Tanushan "look," particularly for someone going for the head-to-toe "noir" she presently was. The dark tints were just another layer of distraction for her visual shifts to cut through, in this environment.
Rhian shrugged, lean and svelte in a tight leather jacket and stretch pants. "He says both. The ISO knows where all the League's GIs are. That's what he told me. And there's not one running wild in Tanusha at the moment." And she paused. Made eye contact past Sandy's shades, with a faint smile. "Or at least there's not another one."
"What do you think?" Sandy asked her pointedly. Rhian's mild expression never changed.
"I'm just a humble operative. I'm learning the rules of the Intelligence game, they're rather different from spec ops. I do what I'm told and try not to think too much."
"I don't believe that any more than I believe the ISO knows where all the League's GIs are." She took a small sip of her makani-and-vodka—it wouldn't do to be seen in such a club without drinks. Sobriety, in these surroundings, was always suspicious. "Have you heard anything about this Cognizant Systems?"
"Renaldo Takawashi?" Rhian said, surprised. "Sure, the Embassy's helping to organise the entire tour. It's been very popular among a lot of the Tanushan biotech companies. And a lot of the local health authorities, especially those in neurology. Do you think that's connected somehow?"
"I'm damn suspicious, that's what. Ari found out about the killswitch at that big function thrown by Cognizant Systems. His usual contacts among League-friendly techies, I don't doubt. Now there's talk of another GI loose in the city. One that Ari says he's been chasing for a long time ... or has suspected of existing, anyhow. One from Earth. How does any Earth-based organisation make an advanced GI? And why does that timing tie in so neatly with someone trying to use the killswitch to kill me? I'll bet anything there's a connection to Cognizant Systems in this, and Takawashi in particular. And I bet Ari knows it too."
"Ari hasn't told you?" Rhian sounded quite surprised.
Sandy repressed a tired, not-entirely-happy smile. "Rhi, there's a lot Ari doesn't tell me. I've learned the hard way not to bother asking."
"I would," said Rhian with certainty. "If I were him."
"You're not him," Sandy challenged. "How do you know what you'd do?"
"Priorities," said Rhian. Sandy gazed at her for a moment. And decided not to tackle that one right at this moment. Ari and Vanessa weren't the only two confusing people in her life.
"All right," she said instead, "what does Ramoja think about this rogue GI? Does he have any ideas?"
"None that he told me. Except to say that it's theoretically possible that the FIA were developing some kind of secret laboratory somewhere, there were rumours about it during the war. A laboratory experimenting with GI technology."
"The Federation doesn't have any damn GI technology, Rhi," Sandy said in frustration. "If the FIA had that kind of knowledge, they wouldn't have devoted so much effort during the war to finding new ways of killing GIs."
"Maybe they recovered a body," Rhian countered. "A corpse. Maybe they patched it together, found a way to make it work."
"Gee, the Frankenstein solution, what a comforting thought." Sandy was grateful the idea was such a long shot-it gave her the creeps. The kind of creeps that probably only a GI could get. Or one with her imagination, anyhow.
"Frankenstein?" Rhian was frowning.
"A very old book," Sandy explained. "A crazy doctor creates a living being by stitching together the body parts of dead people. It doesn't work out real well. Find it in a library one day when you've got time, it'll explain a lot about why people are scared of GIs. Gave me nightmares when I read it."
Rhian looked troubled by that. "A book gave you nightmares?"
"You get nightmares too, surely?"
"Sure." Still the troubled look, eyes fixed frankly upon hers. Honest and open, in a way she rarely found with straights. Except Vanessa, anyhow. "I had nightmares in the war. You know when." Sandy remembered an incident with dead civilians, and a little girl dying in Rhian's arms. And other incidents besides. "I still have nightmares, sometimes. About that time, and other things." A cloud then seemed to lift from her dark, oriental eyes. "There are children at the Embassy. I play with them sometimes. They like that. I don't think they've ever known a GI who plays with them."
No, Sandy didn't suppose they would have. Certainly she couldn't picture the trim, clipped and proper Major Mustafa Ramoja taking the time to play games with children, whatever his supposedly superior mental faculties.
"What do you play with them?" Sandy asked, gazing at her.
"There's a swimming pool," said Rhian with a glow of pleasure. "I like to swim. I give the children lessons, sometimes. And sometimes we have races, and sometimes we throw a ball around, or dive for things on the bottom." Sandy smiled, finding that strangely very easy to picture. And how ironic, that the very same patience, even temper and precise attention to detail that had made Rhian Chu such an effective soldier, would also make her one of the galaxy's best childminders. "I really like children, Cap. Do you think they'd let me have one?"
Sandy nearly spat out her next mouthful of drink. And blinked at her old friend in astonishment. "Have one?"
"You know. A child." Rhian seemed perfectly serious. And Sandy found the time to wonder, briefly, how it was that every time she tried to talk immediate, serious business with Rhian, they ended up getting so utterly distracted.
"You don't think your total lack of a uterus or ovaries might mitigate against that?" she managed at last.
"I meant adoption," Rhian said patiently, as if she thought Sandy a little dense. "People at the Embassy tell me how good I am with children. They say their children talk about me, and say they like playing with me. I think I'd be a good mother."
"I think you'd be a great mother," Sandy agreed, wondering how the hell she was going to approach this one. It suddenly felt like she was back in the League once more, seated upon a bunk in quarters aboard a military station or warship, explaining to her troop of lowerdesignation GIs various things about the universe that she somehow understood, while they did not. She'd always been happy to oblige, then. And she was happy enough to advise her good friend. But now, something about it gnawed at her, frustratingly. "But you couldn't do it here. You'd have to go back to the League and ask for special consideration there. They don't let just anyone adopt, each case is judged on merits. And you'd be the first GI, if you asked."
Rhian thought about that for a moment. Then, "They won't let me, will they? I was designed to fight."
Sandy nodded, slowly. "That's right," she said, cautiously. "It's the kind of question the GI-advocates in the League never wanted asked. That's why they had most of our team killed. When there's no war, what are we for? It's okay with GI regs, they'd never want to do anything other than what they're told. But us higher-des GIs ... we want to d
o other stuff. We want to make choices in life. Maybe we'll even want to adopt a child. So they're real scared of high-des GIs. Even Ramoja, I'm sure, despite all his denials. We could upset the entire League ideology-progress at no moral or ethical cost. They're chickenshit, Rhi, they think they can have it all without suffering the downside consequences. That's why there are so few of us."
Rhian frowned at the rim of her glass, tilting it about so that the liquid swirled just short of spilling. Flashing light caught the glass, made the bubbles gleam. The thumping beat made the surface jump and buzz. Without GI-standard hearing enhancement, the conversation would not be nearly so easy. But it was wonderful for covering their words against any potential spies, without forcing them to resort to uplinks ... which for Sandy, given recent events, were at least hypothetically dangerous, even here. "What if I came here?" Rhian said then. "What if I joined the Federation? Became a citizen, like you?"
Sandy felt her breath catch in her throat. How many times had she suggested this to Rhian? Asked her flatly. Nearly demanded it, even. Her reasons then had been moral and political. But Rhian had been comfortable with what she knew best, where her life made the most sense. And it had been a comfortable arrangement. The best of both worlds, in fact-she could live with Sandy, and experience all the joys of the Federation, while still working for the League Embassy. Both sides got a vital conduit of intelligence and insight into the workings of the other, and the League government got Rhian out of their hair, away from where newly inquisitive League journalists and Parliamentary committees could ask her troubling questions about the fate of her teammates, and the reasons for her vaunted captain's defection. This sudden change of heart from Rhian was unexpected, to say the least.
Sandy took a deep breath. "You'd have a chance here," she said, nodding slowly. "In Tanusha, at least. The law here respects artificial sentience far more than the League. That's the irony, Rhi-this is exactly why the Federation opposes the creation of GIs. It wasn't right of the League to make you a soldier. They should have given you a choice to be whatever you wanted. By making you what they did, they violated your rights, do you understand that? My rights too. The creation of any GI, with a predetermined role in life, is an automatic violation of human rights."
Killswitch: A Cassandra Kresnov Novel (v1.1) Page 15