“That’s twenty you owe me,” Nathan said. “Do you want to pay now, or would you prefer to run a tab?”
Before Theroux could answer, the MoRo heaved to a stop again with the same sequence of warning icon, klaxon and screen message – this time: Brake override – Clearance violation.
“What the hell’s gone wrong now?” Nathan demanded, abandoning all pretence to being relaxed.
Theroux looked mildly rattled himself. “I don’t know.”
“Moonrover Seven,” said the computer, as charmlessly charming as before, “an unauthorized communications device has been operated –”
“You used Box to tap into the Base amusementfile,” Theroux accused, a little shocked.
“-from your vehicle. Clarification is required before your journey can continue.”
“You cheated, you sonofabitch.”
Nathan said, “Security? I had occasion to use a multifunction, self-selecting system interface.”
“There is no such device registered to Moonrover Seven,” said the computer.
“It’s my personal property.”
“There is no such device registered to Commander Spring.”
“Listen, I’m not going to argue this with an officious bag of bolts. Refer it to the Outpost Controller please. ISPF Code three four.”
While they waited, Nathan took the twenty from his pocket and offered it to Theroux, who took the note and snapped it a couple of times and then held it up to the light. “Seems okay,” he said.
“I’m not sure that was cheating,” Nathan said. “I knew the answer.”
“Not when I asked the question.”
Deadpan, Nathan asked, “Did we specify a time frame?” and then before Theroux could protest, as he was clearly about to, said, “That’s a lot of very efficient security for one small research outpost, don’t you think? All this and bugged coveralls too. Be interesting to hear the official explanation.”
“We have certain military involvements, as I am sure you do yourselves.”
Why was it, Nathan wondered, that the gestures and mannerisms he found so elegantly charming in Indian women he found irritating in Indian men? Clearly racism did have a sexual element. Maybe that’s what racism was: a simple perversion of the sex drive. “Involvements, Mr. Chandri?” he asked, struggling to finish shedding his spacesuit, thinking it was a bloody stupid convention, ten minutes to get unsuited, ten minutes to get suited-up again, just to be polite. But then, of course, the man was probably less confident here in the reception chamber than he would be in his own office, so you might get more out of him. The time might not be entirely wasted.
Chandri rocked his head a little in a delicate shrug. “Difficult to avoid out here,” he said. He was engrossed in an examination of Box, and Nathan took the chance to study him carefully. He was perhaps thirty-five years old, with black hair worn longer than was customary off-Earth: was that vanity? He had a round face whose olive-dark complexion made its tendency to puffiness less immediately obvious, and there were bags under his heavy-lidded brown eyes; signs of stress – but how bad?
“We seem to manage it,” Theroux remarked.
Chandri looked up, and Nathan had to switch his attention to putting some conspicuous effort into getting the suit boots off.
“It’s a question of funding, as much as anything,” Chandri said and then, referring to Box, went on, “Interesting toy. Itel never went into production with it, did they?”
Nathan shook his head. “Box was one of the prototypes.”
“Expensive toy as well, then,” Chandri said and handed it back to Nathan. “My apologies.”
“For what?” Nathan asked.
Again the small shrug. “For… inconveniencing you.”
“What exactly do you do here, Dr. Chandri?” Theroux asked briskly. He had already clipped his spacesuit into the storage rack and put on the soft indoor galoshes, and was ready to go.
“You didn’t bother to check?”
“You’re listed as Communications R&D, which doesn’t tell us a whole hell of a lot.”
“It tells you as much as you need to know,” Chandri said politely. “As much as we want anyone to know, in fact.”
“Even us?” Theroux said.
“Especially you, perhaps,” Chandri said and smiled. He was ready to go now, too.
Nathan had the feeling that he had lost an opportunity, but there was nothing more to be gained from delay. While he stowed the suit, he said, “You lead a civilian project team. You’re a physicist by training, most of your people appear to be mathematicians or computer development engineers. You’ve got a lot of security and ‘certain military involvements’. At a guess, you’re working in digital cryptography, new ciphers for old, code making or breaking of some sort.” He pulled the fresh galoshes from the locker at the bottom of the rack and unbagged them. “But that’s as much time as I intend to waste guessing.”
“As I said…” Chandri murmured.
Nathan slipped his feet into the sterile overshoes and nodded. “…we know as much as we need to know about what you do.” He wriggled his toes appreciatively. The boots had pinched a little. He made a mental note to check that his feet were not swelling more than was normal. “Perhaps you’d like to tell us what we do, in that case?”
Chandri frowned. “I am sorry?” His accent, which had shown almost no trace of his national origin before, was noticeably more pronounced.
Nathan smiled his best smile. “Why did you send for us?”
“Oh yes, of course,” Chandri said. He sounded relieved. “This is not a very secure area. I have some excellent coffee in my office. Perhaps you will follow me, gentlemen?”
As they followed him through the pressure sensitive inner door Theroux murmured to Nathan, “The Sherlock Holmes act was impressive,” and grinned.
“Let’s hope it was impressive enough to stop him playing games,” Nathan muttered, resisting the impulse to add, and to stop you talking incessantly.
The office was unexpected. There were the usual flimsy desk and chairs, the standard multiple work and communications screens, the conventional decor: pastel shades of palest yellows, and blues, and greens with multi-source indirect lighting, but not much else was in the average run of lunar provision. Exotic plants were carefully lit and nurtured in the sort of terrarium normally found only in those areas of Moonbase designed to impress visiting politicians. Even more carefully assembled and lit was an elaborate gallery of family holograms, and tiny, exquisitely-fashioned household gods. Most impressive of all however, was a bookcase filled with real printed-on-paper books, each one a beautifully bound hardback edition.
Nathan surveyed all these luxuries with undisguised admiration. Theroux paid them no obvious attention, and it struck Nathan that his American subordinate had a slightly puritanical streak when it came to money. It made his reaction to Hubble’s and Kenzy’s corruption seem decidedly incongruous. Perhaps he was subtler than Nathan was giving him credit for, but there wasn’t much sign of it. At the moment he was staring pointedly at the bank of blank screens and asking, “You have a screen maintenance problem, sir?”
Unperturbed, Chandri continued to pour coffee from the old-fashioned percolator into white china mugs. “How do you like your coffee, Inspector?”
“Black, no sweeteners, thanks.”
“And for you, Commander?”
“The same, thank you.”
“We could send one of the main base repair guys,” Theroux persisted, “if you’ve no-one on site.”
“Inspector Theroux, you know quite well why those screens are off,” Chandri said smiling. “You won’t embarrass me about our security you know.”
A little embarrassed himself, Theroux said, “I wasn’t looking to, Dr. Chandri.”
Chandri
handed him his coffee and carried the second mug to where Nathan was reading the spines of the books. “I see you’re impressed with my library, Commander,” he said.
Nathan took the coffee carefully. “Yes indeed, sir. And I’m impressed with the weight allocation it took to bring them from Earth. You must have friends in the space freight business.” He smiled, in case it should sound like an accusation.
“It was all paid for, I assure you,” Chandri said quickly. “All above board.”
Nathan nodded and sipped his coffee. He watched Chandri move to the books. The guy was strung tighter than piano wire, and his every response was guilty. Or was that paranoid?
“I don’t like electronic books you see,” Chandri was saying. “They are adequate for technical works yes, but for art… There’s something about poetry particularly which must be read from the printed page. It dies when you put it on a viewing screen.” Absently, he plucked a volume from the shelves and opened it, then realizing made to return it.
Nathan peered at the book. “You have a particular fondness for Blake?”
Chandri carefully put the book in its place. “I suppose I have.” He went back and sat down at his desk. “It is something from my childhood perhaps. Tyger! Tyger! burning bright / In the forests of the night…” He smiled sadly.
“Blake was some kind of lunatic, wasn’t he?” Theroux said, looking at the books for the first time.
“Lunacy,” said Chandri. “Madness brought on by the Moon. Did you know that’s where the word came from originally?”
Theroux ignored the question, and said, “I don’t think I ever met a genuine billionaire before.” He looked directly at Chandri so that the comment became a challenge.
“If it causes you concern, Inspector,” Chandri murmured, “I am only a multimillionaire.”
“How can we help you, sir?” Nathan interrupted, irritated with Theroux for his unsophisticated suspicions.
Chandri said, “Actually, you can’t help me. However, we can help you, I believe.”
“We’re always grateful for that.”
“Some intelligence has come into our possession which we feel is properly the concern of the space police.” Chandri paused, as if he was suddenly undecided whether to pass on the information after all.
“Yes?” Nathan prompted.
“A group of extremists is planning to hijack one of the Earth-Moon shuttles,” said Chandri and paused again.
Nathan frowned. Why was the man so hesitant? “When exactly is this supposed to happen?” he asked.
“Fairly soon, we think.”
“And which group is it?”
“The Organisation of Pan-Continental Anarchists is behind it.”
Theroux smiled and said, “Organizations of anarchists. Sounds like a contradiction in terms, doesn’t it? Like military intelligence. Is that what this is, sir? Military intelligence?”
This time it was Chandri who ignored the question. “In fact ‘anarchism’ means ‘without ruler’,” he said. “It doesn’t mean ‘without order’.”
“That’s interesting, sir, but you didn’t answer my question.”
“The group involved call themselves the BHG. Apparently that stands for the Black Hand Gang, but we can’t identify any of the members at this stage.”
“The Black Hand Gang?” Theroux made no attempt to hide his amusement.
Chandri said, “It’s no joke, I assure you.”
“Is the source of this military?” asked Nathan.
Again, Chandri gave the delicate, head-rocking shrug. “The information is reliable.”
“You do realize,” Nathan said, “that it’s too little to act on, but too much to ignore.”
“Leaves worrying as our only option,” said Theroux.
“You could put men on the flights,” Chandri suggested.
“Sky marshals?” Theroux shook his head dismissively. “They were always a lousy idea.”
“I haven’t the manpower, anyway,” Nathan said then added, “One other question, Dr. Chandri, if I may.”
“I have nothing more to say, Commander.”
Nathan persisted. “Why did you send for us? Why did you want to see us in person?”
Chandri looked uncertain. He said, “To impress upon you the importance…” and then his voice trailed off into silence. He stared at Nathan, who thought he saw quite clearly in the man’s eyes a wish to tell becoming a need to confess becoming a decision to speak.
“You could have done that over the communicator circuit,” Theroux said.
And Nathan saw the decision change abruptly as the uncertainty disappeared behind a suave smile. “I was probably being overcautious,” Chandri said. “It’s just that it was slightly sensitive material and in my field one is aware of the… shall we say the vulnerability of carrier waves.”
Nathan knew there was no way to salvage the lost confession, whatever it had been, but he realized that in his haste to bury a larger truth, the man had uncovered a smaller one. Casually he said, “So that’s what you do here.”
Chandri recognized the mistake. “It would not be wise to read too much into a casual remark, Commander.”
“Your principal research area will be communications monitoring,” Nathan went on.
“Not more buggers and super-snoopers?” asked Theroux.
Nathan said, “More impressive than that.”
For the first time since they arrived, Chandri’s deferential charm seemed to desert him. “I must suggest,” he said, coldly polite, “that to go on would be foolish of you.” The words were mild enough but his tone made the threat unmistakable.
Theroux was too surprised to be immediately hostile. “Is that a threat, Doctor?” he asked.
Still cold Chandri said, “An observation, merely.”
Nathan felt he had no choice now but to press on. “We’ve always been able to hear more than we can listen to. You’ll be working on intelligent listening systems.”
“Sounds impressive, certainly,” commented Theroux taking his cue from Nathan.
“Machines that listen to everything and decide for themselves what’s worth passing on. Machines that don’t need the normal, precisely defined criteria.”
Theroux said, “What, you just say: look for the bad guys?”
“Is that where this BHG information came from, Dr. Chandri? A test running? Did one of your new computers pick it out from the babble of all the world?”
Chandri stood up. “Commander, it has been a pleasure meeting you,” he said, coming out from behind his desk. He shook hands with both men and then said “I’ll show you out, gentlemen.”
Theroux said, “We can find our own way, sir.”
“I wouldn’t dream of being so discourteous,” Chandri said. “The thought of you wandering lost and alone around our establishment would be most distressing to me.”
Because the boots were a bit tight, it took Nathan longer than ten minutes to suit-up again but Chandri waited, patient and helpful, clearly doing his best to make up for the previous lapse.
As happened when they arrived, Theroux was ready first. “Tireless attention to every word spoken?” he said, still in the mood to chat. “No possibility of human error? You tell it to listen for subversives and it listens to everyone and identifies the ones it assumes you won’t like?”
His expression and tone deliberately amiable, Chandri said, “I’m afraid I have no more time to waste on such idle speculation.”
“It can’t be quite that successful, anyway,” Nathan remarked, pulling on and sealing his inner gloves.
“You think not?” asked Chandri levelly.
“We can’t identify any of the members at this stage. Isn’t that what you said?”
Chandri smiled. “Ah, yes. But th
en, one would hesitate to develop something which would do you people out of a job.”
“There’s not much danger of that, I’m afraid,” Nathan said.
Chandri’s smile became cool and fixed. “Perhaps I seem to you incapable of such complex work. Is that what you think, Commander?”
Theroux said, “He thinks that where there’s living there’s policemen. One of nature’s rules,” and he put on his helmet, secured it, and checked the suit telltales. Satisfied, he signalled his readiness to move through the access lock. Nathan waved him on and Chandri raised his hand, palm outward, for Theroux to touch with his open gauntlet in the professional gesture of farewell.
“Where there’s living. there’s policemen,” Chandri said, handing Nathan his helmet. “It must be very restful to be sure of one’s place in the world.”
Nathan watched the atmosphere recycling gauge register the evacuation of the airlock. “It would be restful to be sure one was going to get back to it,” he said, mindful once more of just how life-threatening everything had become.
Chandri’s soft face creased into a frown of concern. “We are on the same side, you know,” he said.
Does he think I’m afraid of him? Nathan wondered. It struck him that if he did, then there might be good reason to be afraid of him, and he said, “Not too long ago my closest friend died.”
Chandri’s expression became sympathetic. “I am sorry for you,” he said. “Death is a lonely business.”
“She was killed by someone who was also on our side.”
The look of sympathy remained unchanged but it was uninvolved. Chandri was thinking about something else now. “You will keep me informed of anything you discover about the hijacking?” he asked. “I should be most interested to hear of your progress.”
Nathan nodded. “Is there anything else you want to tell me, Dr. Chandri?” he said – though he wasn’t sure what question he was really asking.
Star Cops Page 33