Great North Road

by Peter F. Hamilton

  The house’s outside door opened as soon as he pinged it, and he stomped up the stairs. Ian was waiting in the lounge, dressed in PJ trousers and an old grey T-shirt.

  ‘Why are you crapping on me at this hour?’ Sid demanded. ‘Is Sherman going to kill someone? I had to tell Jacinta that Market Street was calling me in.’ He stopped. Tallulah Packer was standing in the bedroom doorway, looking unbelievably hot wrapped in Ian’s dressing gown, her auburn hair delectably dishevelled.

  ‘You’re fucking joking,’ Sid growled.

  Tallulah’s lips quivered as she fought back tears.

  Ian went over and gently put his arms round her, close and reassuring. ‘It’s all right, pet. Please, I told you you’ll be fine. You’ve done nothing wrong.’

  ‘What is going on?’ Sid asked.

  ‘Tallulah told me something,’ Ian said. ‘It’s not something I’d ever share. Not normally, like. But, boss . . . it’s really important. To us. To the case.’

  ‘All right.’ Sid took a breath, trying to calm down. ‘What is it?’

  Tallulah stayed mute, shaking her head.

  ‘We were talking,’ Ian said, his own embarrassment making him hesitant. ‘Aye, you know. Getting to know each other. Saying about all the kinds of sex we’ve both had, which we liked best, what we wanted to try with each other—’

  ‘Ian . . .’ Sid really didn’t want to hear this.

  ‘Boss,’ the pleading was painful. ‘Our exes, we talked about our exes.’

  ‘I had an affair,’ Tallulah said at last. She couldn’t look at Sid, keeping her eyes downcast. ‘It ended when I got engaged. Well, almost. It’s been over since December, anyway.’

  ‘Okay, well we’ve all had fun when we were single,’ Sid said. It seemed the right thing to say.

  Tallulah drew down a long breath, as if she was in a confessional with a particularly unforgiving priest. ‘I was sleeping with Aldred North.’

  Sid simply didn’t possess an instinct to guide his reaction to that. He just stood there with his jaw open dumbly. ‘Aldred North?’ he repeated, because he had probably misheard. ‘You were Aldred North’s girlfriend?’

  The poor girl nodded, looking like she was about to cry again. Ian’s arm tightened round her.

  Sid rubbed a hand across his forehead, massaging the fatigue away. ‘All right, Tallulah, listen to me. Ian is quite right – you’ve done nothing wrong. We just have to know a few details, that’s all. The investigation is over, and if you tell us everything we can keep you out of things, okay? That’s why Ian called me over here, to make sure you’re covered.’

  ‘Really?’ Tallulah asked. ‘I’m not in trouble?’

  ‘No. Not yet,’ he said, which was partially true. ‘But, pet, we have to understand what happened. That’s what’s really important here. So: how long were you seeing him?’

  ‘Six months. No, wait, more like eight. We met back in March last year. He wanted to keep it quiet – he was still seeing Lady Jennifer, but it wasn’t going well, it hadn’t been for a while. He was really unhappy. He said he didn’t want to make it any worse, that we should give her time to finish their relationship on her own terms.’

  ‘You were seeing each other in secret?’

  ‘Privately.’ Tallulah pouted. ‘I’m not a home wrecker, I didn’t break them up. It was practically over when we started.’

  ‘I see. So you met in your apartment, not his?’

  ‘Yes. We couldn’t go to his because Lady Jennifer was still living there.’

  ‘And he lives in the St James, so it was easy.’

  ‘Yes. At first. But . . . I met Boris. And we could go out in public together and do things like I never could with Aldred. Oh, we went away for a few weekends together, but it was always the two of us in some chalet or villa. Never in public. It was exciting at first, then in the end I realized he was just using me. All he wanted me for was sex.’

  ‘When you figured that out, you broke it off?’

  She sniffed. ‘Yes.’

  ‘So back in January, he still had the lock codes for your apartment?’

  ‘I . . . yes. Changing the code would be difficult. Boris would want to know why; he was quite possessive. And Aldred was seeing someone else by then. Lady Jennifer had left him.’

  ‘All right,’ Sid said. ‘Now this next bit is very important. Why didn’t you tell us this when we took you into custody?’

  ‘He was there. Aldred was waiting for me when Ian took me up to the interview room.’

  ‘Oh crap on it,’ Sid groaned, remembering that day, how it didn’t seem odd at all. In fact, at the time it was Ian’s behaviour which he’d worried about. ‘What did Aldred say? Did he threaten you?’

  ‘No. Nothing like that. He was reassuring. He said he’d protect me from any involvement, that no one would ever have to know about the two of us. And . . . and . . . Boris was there. You remember Chantilly Sanders-Watson?’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Sid said. ‘I remember her.’

  ‘She was my lawyer, only she wasn’t; Boris paid for her. I couldn’t tell her why it was my apartment that poor North got murdered in. Boris might have found out. We were going to get married!’

  ‘So you played the innocent card,’ Sid said. ‘Claimed you had no idea why your apartment was chosen.’

  ‘Well I don’t,’ she insisted. ‘Not really. Aldred called me afterwards, he said he was really sorry, that it was likely someone was trying to discredit him, or set him up, that it was part of a high-level corporate conflict and I shouldn’t worry any more, that he’d make sure you, the police, stayed away from me. And he can do that, he’s a very powerful man.’

  ‘Aye,’ Sid said. ‘He is that.’

  *

  Clayton carried on watching while Sid made himself a cup of tea. Tallulah and Ian went back into the bedroom, where she got dressed. Ian’s e-i called for a taxi.

  ‘Sir, do you want to question her?’ Ivan asked. ‘We can intercept the taxi, pick her up in one of ours.’

  ‘Taxis are useful in this town, aren’t they?’ Clayton mused. ‘So perfectly anonymous. And they all look the same.’

  ‘Sir, it’s time-critical, we need a decision.’

  ‘No. Leave her alone. She’s not a player, she’s simply been used.’

  ‘So did Aldred kill the victim?’

  ‘I don’t know. If he did then he must have a very warped reason to use this particular method and do it in his ex-girlfriend’s apartment. It doesn’t make a lot of sense.’

  ‘Could he have told Tallulah the truth, that someone is trying to discredit him?’

  ‘I suppose so. Crap knows, Augustine has enough rivals on Earth. The old cartel always seems solid from the outside, but you never know when the bedrock is going to shift underneath you without warning. Ask Angela. Nothing in this life is certain.’

  ‘But the creature is real – it’s killing people at Wukang.’

  ‘I know. But we don’t know why.’ He saw Tallulah and Ian come back out into the lounge. ‘Let’s see what the police make of this, shall we. It would seem I’ve underestimated them.’

  *

  Sid drank his tea, making every effort not to listen to what was being said in the stairwell outside the flat. Voices were muffled by the door, but from Ian’s urgent, near-pleading tones, it was obvious he was desperate to see Tallulah again.

  The taxi pulled up outside, and Sid watched through the window as Tallulah climbed in. It was a citycab, he noticed idly. So we’ve come full circle. Ian stood on the pavement, watching the taxi until it vanished from sight.

  ‘Quite a night,’ Sid said gently as Ian came back into the lounge.

  Ian gave him a forlorn look. ‘Aye, man, I screwed up.’

  ‘You did the right thing telling me.’

  ‘Not that, I mean with her.’

  ‘Ah. What did she say? Will she see you again?’

  ‘Aye, she said we could talk. I know what that means.’

  ‘No, you don’t, Ian.
You only know what that means when you say it. If Tallulah said it, that’s good. She will see you again. She needs you, Ian. You’re the one who can get her through this.’

  ‘She wasn’t involved. She wasn’t. That bastard Aldred used her.’

  ‘I don’t think he did.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘A North was murdered in the apartment of the mistress of Northumberland Interstellar’s head of security. Really? We still don’t know who our victim was, but we know it was corporate, which makes the location an attempt to ruin Aldred. My guess is Aldred probably had the body cleared away by Reinert, he’s certainly got the connections to make that happen. Whoever did it couldn’t have been expecting that.’ As he said it there was still a wisp of doubt troubling him. Augustine North had seemed very genuine when he said he wanted to know who had killed his son. And if Aldred knew he was being set up he’d have asked Sid to ease up on the investigation.

  I’d probably have done it, too.

  ‘So how do we find out?’

  ‘Ian. We don’t. Not for O’Rouke and the Prosecution Bureau, anyway. Whatever’s going on is completely out of our league, which means we have to be extremely careful. A North was murdered: if you’ve got the clout to do that, a couple of policemen aren’t going to bother you. If we ever do find out, it’s for ourselves only, to satisfy us that it’s over and we’re in the clear. Understand?’

  ‘Aye, and how do we do that, boss?’

  ‘Ask Aldred.’

  ‘Ask him?’

  ‘He trusts me, because I’ve never let him down.’

  ‘Wait. Aldred is your corporate contact?’

  ‘You don’t make it up to third grade without help and approval, Ian. Not in this screwed-up world.’

  ‘Oh crap on all of this.’

  Sid put a hand on Ian’s shoulder, squeezing tight. ‘Honesty night, huh. Painful stuff, man.’

  ‘Aye. You’ll really just ask him?’

  ‘It might need to be quite a forceful question. We’ll have to prepare.’

  *

  Sid arrived at the Jamaica Blue café on John Dobson Street just after eleven o’clock and sat in an empty booth beside the window. He watched people walking past in the bright spring sunlight, envying their simple lives. They lived in his world, but never saw the complexity, the forces which moved them. There were times he wished he didn’t.

  ‘Morning,’ Aldred said and slid onto the bench opposite Sid. As always he was wearing a smart suit, but not a flashy one. A typical anonymous North. If you had to take a guess, you’d go for Northumberland Interstellar management, but what kind of division was unknowable.

  Sid saw a bodyguard up at the counter ordering a tea and croissant, another out on the street, close to the café door, watching people going in.

  Am I the only one that sees them?

  ‘This is difficult,’ Sid said.

  ‘Oh dear. What have you got for me, Sid? You know I don’t bite.’

  ‘I’ve been told the Prosecution Bureau is going to charge Reinert today. Which means everyone will know your brother wasn’t a carjacking victim.’

  ‘I don’t think many ever did.’

  ‘Aye, well, the only thing they can charge him with is accessory after the fact. If a court finds him guilty, he’ll serve two years in a correctional education camp, then be dumped on his very own five acres of Minisa on the opposite side of the planet from its gateway and told not to come back.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘There’s going to be a media shitstorm when the charges are publicly logged with the court. Lots of politicians, especially opposition ones, asking why the police can’t find the murderer. O’Rouke will promise the case will remain open.’

  ‘Of course he will. He has no choice.’

  ‘But it’s dead. We covered every angle. I genuinely don’t have another lead to go on. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sid, I already briefed Augustine when Reinert’s file was sent to the Prosecution Bureau. We know what’s going to happen. And I know you did everything you could, I was there, you know.’

  Sid looked at him over his tea cup. Was Aldred playing him? ‘You were a big help with O’Rouke.’

  ‘Yes, well, O’Rouke is something of a dinosaur. Effective, mind – he’s done great things for this city, and we’re all grateful – but it’s probably best he claims his well-deserved retirement package now.’

  ‘And me?’

  ‘No, Sid. We don’t blame you.’

  ‘O’Rouke will be putting me up for grade-five before he leaves. The filework’s already been logged with the promotions board.’

  Aldred pursed his lips. ‘One grade from the top, eh? You deserve it. You did a good job.’

  ‘Is there still a place for me in your division? I’d appreciate an honest answer. I deserve that, I think.’

  ‘Sid, we’re not the mafia, I’ve always been level with you, that’s what I like about our arrangement. Yes there is a place for you at Northumberland Interstellar, there always will be. Can I offer some advice?’

  ‘I’d welcome it.’

  ‘Stick with a grade-five position for a couple of years before you think about the transfer over.’

  ‘Okay. Why?’

  Aldred indicated the street scene on the other side of the window. ‘Sunny day out there, nice and warm. It’s going to be another drought summer.’

  ‘They all are these days.’

  ‘Not on St Libra, they’re not. Our entire operation there is in the process of shutting down. We’re bringing our people back here.’

  ‘I know. That’s good of you.’

  ‘Sid, Northumberland Interstellar is a corporation, bottom line. In fact, the only line. We only do charity if we get a decent tax relief out of it. We’re bringing them back because the farms out there are as dead as our algaepaddies. It’s cheaper to allow personnel back than it is to ship food to them through the gateway. It’s cheaper for them to find themselves a rented house on the open market here than for us to provide their tropical condo with insulation and power for heating. And when this is all over, when the redshift ends and the snow melts, it’s going to wash away half of Highcastle. That city isn’t hardy like Newcastle, Sid, it wasn’t built for cold weather. We’ll have to rebuild it. This could break us, Sid, this could break Northumberland Interstellar.’

  ‘Crap on it. Seriously?’

  ‘I don’t know, Sid. My father doesn’t know. Nobody knows. Not even all those analysts that fill our offices. But building ourselves back to pre-sunspot levels is going to take decades of work. Money is going to be tight. And we’ll be competing for credit with the other bioil companies that are going to be expanding their operations while we’re down and out. That’s on top of the recession we’ve just triggered and no one has noticed yet.’

  ‘The recession?’ Sid wished he didn’t sound quite so ignorant.

  ‘Sid, St Libra supplies over sixty per cent of the GE’s bioil, and quite a lot to other nations, too. That tap has been turned off. You’re going to be lucky if you can heat your house next winter. If you’ve got a log-burner stove, I suggest you start chopping down trees this summer. We’re in for ten years of very harsh times. Which is why I suggest you keep your government job, funded by that glorious, everlasting, inexhaustible supply of taxpayers’ money. I can guarantee you a job right now – I can’t guarantee you the company will survive.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Oh indeed.’

  ‘Sorry. I didn’t realize how bad this was. I’ve not been paying attention.’

  ‘I know. Three weeks ago, the murder was all that mattered to me, to my brothers; and our father was obsessed by it. Now, even I don’t care. So thank you for the job you did, Sid. We won’t forget our friends. But you need to look after yourself and your family.’

  Sid followed Aldred out of the Jamaica Blue café. He stood on the pavement and watched the North walk over to the Mercedes limousine parked in the loading-only bay. The bodyguards closed around as he go
t in, then the car was pulling away into the traffic.

  When it turned into St Mary’s Place and vanished from sight, Eva and Ian came up behind Sid.

  ‘That was depressing,’ Eva said. ‘Sixty per cent? I didn’t know it was that much; my husband said it was thirty. Damn, we’re in for some bad times.’

  ‘Brussels never liked admitting how dependent we were on St Libra,’ Ian said. ‘Bloody typical, like.’

  ‘Did you place the smartmicrobe?’ Sid asked them.

  ‘Aye man, no problem,’ Ian said. ‘That little cyber-ant machine walked right up to his shoe and zapped the heel. Lucky the café switches their meshes off while you have your meetings.’

  ‘Aye. Lucky. We’re due some of that.’

  ‘So how long do we leave it before we download Aldred?’ Eva asked.

  ‘Let’s give it another week,’ Sid said. ‘If he’s going to talk to Sherman again, it’ll be soon. We’ll download everyone simultaneously and see what we’ve caught.’

  ‘Let’s hope he keeps wearing those shoes,’ Eva said.

  ‘We gave it our best shot, pet,’ Sid said. ‘One way or another, this is going to be over soon.’

  ‘Tallulah called,’ Ian said with a broad smile. ‘While you were in there talking, she called. She said she’d see me this evening.’

  Sid put his arm round Ian’s shoulder and gave him a happy shake. ‘That’s good, man. If the two of you can survive something like last night, you’ve got a real chance with her.’

  ‘So don’t blow it,’ Eva said. ‘When you take her out tonight, don’t be you.’

  ‘Hey!’

  ‘I mean it,’ Eva said. ‘She needs to talk about this. Don’t make the evening just about getting her back into bed. If you want this to last, show an interest in her.’

  ‘She’s got a point.’ Sid grinned. ‘For a start, steer clear of the places you usually go.’

  ‘Aye, man,’ Ian groaned. ‘Dating advice from married people. Give me more of that.’

  Thursday 11th April 2143

  The thaw arrived as fast as it was unexpected. Some pocket of warm air that had somehow endured the redshift and storm patterns came rushing in from the south-west during Wednesday night, driving the aurora borealis away. But by then, warm was a relative term for the Brogal continent.