Nara began again. ‘There is the question of the crew in our hypothetical journey,’ she said, talking more to herself than to Katherine. ‘It would be a very big risk sending GVX out this early. We have a shortlist of drivers we’ve interviewed for commissioning but we’ve not approached anyone about taking it out into the field. There is a very big difference between a test driver and a field driver.’
Katherine was well aware of the distinction, having seen first-hand how out of her depth a test driver could be in the wilds of Ayon. In fairness, she had also seen a very capable field driver wreck a new test vehicle by treating it as if it were a known, proven quantity. It worked both ways, and the driver selection would be critical given the timescale.
Nara seemed to be making up her mind. When she spoke again it was in a much firmer tone.
‘I’ll be frank, Katherine. I think if you are proposing that HEX be pursued at great risk to an expensive prototype vehicle and its crew, you should oversee the commissioning and crew selection personally. I want you to take responsibility.’
Katherine had not seen this coming, but reluctantly took Nara’s point.
‘Yes,’ continued Nara, with mounting conviction. ‘I am willing to push GVX’s commissioning date forward and forgo much of the prior testing before it ventures into the field, but the conditions are these: the expedition collects data where possible; that data comes back to me personally and is left for me alone to disseminate.’
Katherine was momentarily confused. Surely any data collected would come back to Nara anyway. She seemed to be trading the world for something she already had.
‘Well, that seems very reasonable, Nara,’ she said, taken aback.
‘Katherine, I’m getting old and my influence is not what it once was. I need your word that you will put a system in place to ensure the security of whatever comes back. I’d like you to be involved personally.’ Her expression softened slightly as she spoke again. ‘You were a very competent driver yourself.’
Katherine blushed slightly. This was hardly the time for compliments, but it was nice to be acknowledged. ‘I was okay,’ she said. ‘I miss it, that’s for sure.’
‘I’ve been led to believe you’re something of a natural.’
‘That’s very flattering,’ replied Katherine, hoping Nara would get back to the problem at hand.
‘My other condition is that, in the event we have no field drivers available to conduct the commissioning and in light of the risk involved, you personally step in to ensure GVX is field-ready.’
Katherine was dumbfounded by this request and wasn’t sure how to respond. ‘From what I’ve seen of it, GVX would be a quite different animal to anything I’ve driven before,’ she said a little lamely.
‘That’s going to be true for any driver. You’re a good engineer, Katherine. You also understand the bureaucracy we will have to negotiate with to make this happen.’
Nara looked Katherine straight in the eye. ‘You should conduct the commissioning. You’ve put yourself publicly in the firing line already, and you have the most to lose if things go wrong. Make sure GVX is ready and safe for whomever you hand over to.’
‘Can I consider it?’ asked Katherine, uncomfortably.
Nara cocked her head to one side and simply said, ‘There’s not much to consider, Katherine. Those are my terms.’
There was a long pause before Nara made a final point. ‘I’m not sure if you are aware but GVX was designed to interface directly with ROOT. It was his idea and, although we’ve never attempted to integrate him into working machinery before, I felt it was prudent to at least build in the option, be it used or not.’
Katherine immediately grasped the relevance of this comment. ‘An Intercessor could speed up the commissioning.’
‘That’s what he claims to have been built for,’ Nara agreed. ‘There is a risk in interfacing him of course. We don’t know what he will do or what control he will exert,’ said Nara cautiously. ‘SVA built GVX to ROOT’s specifications but, as with so many things, we just don’t understand how the technology works.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Katherine automatically. ‘I’ve know ROOT for as long as we’ve had him, he won’t misbehave.’ This statement sounded stupid even as she said it.
‘I’m afraid I don’t share that conviction,’ Nara warned. ‘I suggest you trial the interface but analyse carefully what he might have control over. It’s the first step towards the decision on whether the IDCs are integrated elsewhere.’
She meant Aya. Integrating ROOT and HEX into the new city’s systems had been endlessly debated and remained a divisive issue.
Nara concluded the conversation in a more positive tone. ‘I will get on to John Orchard and apprise him of the situation as far as I can. I will also deal with the Privy Council, if you prefer?’ Katherine accepted this offer with gratitude. ‘Good. Then SVA will be expecting you as soon as you can get there.’
‘Good luck, Katherine Kane,’ said Nara with a look of pride that startled Katherine.
With that, Nara showed Katherine out into the corridor before returning to her desk and starting what was to become a whirlwind of political wrangling. As she lifted the receiver of her telephone, she felt with total certainty she was doing the right thing and that, in all likelihood, Katherine was the best chance to accomplish a near-impossible task in a near-impossible time frame.
011: Unaccounted
T24 Facility, Western Fringe, Skala City
Evelyn Tudor sat at her desk, looking from her chronocyl to the telephone in front of her and back again. She had been doing this on and off for nearly a revolution. She put her hand on the receiver, withdrew it, then changed her mind and picked it up, dialling a number she knew by hearts. She was greeted with a brusque ‘Yes?’ of indistinguishable sex.
Putting on her best formal voice, she said, ‘I’d like to speak to Mr O’Brien please.’
‘What is it concerning?’
‘That’s between Mr O’Brien and myself. Please put me through.’ She said this with as much authority as she could muster.
‘Who is this?’ came the annoyed reply.
‘Evelyn Tudor,’ she said, as if the man should have known.
There was a pause at the other end and a hesitant response before another phone number was given.
Without further acknowledgement she hung up and dialled the new number. A slightly shaky female voice answered.
‘Vault Motioning, this is Myra Cena, can I help you?’
Confused, Evelyn cleared her throat and said, ‘Yes, I’d like to speak to Vincent O’Brien if he’s there?’
‘Just a moment.’ Evelyn heard the distinctive voice of O’Brien from somewhere in the background.
‘Hello?’ he said, the receiver not quite to his ear.
‘Vincent, it’s Evelyn Tudor.’ There was a momentary pause at the other end before he responded.
‘Miss Tudor, this is a surprise. How can I help you?’
‘I’ll get to the point, Vincent, I’m sure you’re busy.’ When he didn’t respond she continued. ‘I’ve been working with a man from Hellinar Research, a quartermaster by the name of JT Gilbert. He’s had some vehicles stolen. I won’t bore you with the detail.’
‘That’s kind of you,’ said O’Brien. Evelyn wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic and decided to press on anyway.
‘He’s gone into the slums and hasn’t returned. He’s been there more than a full shift. Do we…’ She stopped to correct herself. ‘Do you still maintain contacts there?’
‘Yes,’ he said, matter-of-factly. ‘More than we used to, actually. You wouldn’t believe half the things that are going on.’
‘I’m sure you’re right.’
‘Gilbert, you said, JT?’ She got the impression he was cradling the handset against his shoulder and writing as he talked.
‘That’s right.’
‘Do you have a description?’ Then, having second thoughts, ‘Actually, hold on.’
&nbs
p; Evelyn could hear a conversation in the background. O’Brien was asking for access to the address books for Hellinar Research. In a moment he returned to the phone.
‘Okay, I’ve got him. Forty-ish, short dark hair. Tidy, efficient-looking guy?’
‘That sounds like him. I’m sorry, Vincent, I didn’t know who else to call.’
‘That’s okay. You said he had some vehicles stolen?’ She had forgotten O’Brien’s eye for detail and smiled to herself.
‘Yes that’s right, a three-vehicle Unit called Hydra. The circumstances are very odd, our system’s been interfered with.’
‘Yours? That’s interesting. I take it you’re still working at the same place? Western Fringe isn’t it?’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ she said. ‘And there is a clerk missing as well, not turned up to work for shifts now.’
‘Really? What was the name?’
‘Austen Worral. I checked with his superior a rotation ago and he’s still missing. It may not be important but it could be connected.’
‘Okay, I’ll look into it when I get a chance. For now I’ll see what I can find out about your Mr Gilbert. We’re flat out here at the moment, you may have heard.’
‘I’ve heard something,’ she said.
‘Look, I may not be able to chase this through much, but if he does turn up I’d be interested to speak to him.’
‘Of course,’ she said, a little surprised. They exchanged brief pleasantries, then hung up. Agitated, she drummed her fingers lightly on the desk, then rose and addressed her secretary, who looked up gloomily.
‘I’m going home, then I’m going out. I may not see you for a couple of shifts. I trust that’s not a problem.’
‘Not at all,’ said the man, nonplussed, before turning his attention back to his paperwork.
*
In the Vault, O’Brien leaned back in his chair. Something was nagging at him, worrying him. He called over to his deputy, Jennifer Narin. She was a fastidious lady of around his own age, always immaculately presented and totally ruthless when it came to pursuing her quarry. Contrary to the rumours that occasionally circulated at CID, their relationship was platonic.
‘Jen, can you get a message to our friend in Gygath slum? Tell him there is a Mr Gilbert missing somewhere over in that area.’
‘Sure,’ said Narin with a small nod.
O’Brien thought a moment, then made a decision. ‘Can you also run a check for an Austen Worral under missing persons for me?’
‘No need,’ said the deputy. ‘Austen Worral turned up this morning.’ He could see she had something to add and narrowed his eyes. ‘Austen Worral’s dead,’ she said simply.
‘Dead?’ asked O’Brien.
‘Yeah, it’s right here in this morning’s briefing notes.’ She picked up a single sheet of paper. ‘You didn’t read them?’
‘I haven’t had time,’ said O’Brien, snatching the paper and reading as Narin looked on.
‘Found in a refuse collector,’ he said, scanning through the two paragraphs of description. ‘Looks like he was strangled. No blood.’
‘That’s what it says, sir. It’s not public yet. The coroner will have to look at him first.’
From the corner of his eye, O’Brien caught sight of Myra Cena sitting across from him. She looked alarmed.
‘What is it Myra?’
‘A man’s missing and another has turned up dead?’
‘That’s right.’
Myra stumbled over her words a little. ‘Well, we have a missing person too, don’t we?’
It took O’Brien a moment to get her meaning. ‘Kyra Devin?’
‘We haven’t seen her for three full shifts now.’ Myra showed open concern. She was clearly fond of Devin; O’Brien had picked up on that during her first interview.
‘Jen, could you reassign two agents to track down Devin please? Olson should be looking into it, but given Gilbert and Worral, I’d rather not have him tied down. He’s more useful freelancing, much as I hate to admit it. This may all be unconnected but it doesn’t feel that way to me.’
‘Or me,’ agreed the deputy. ‘I spoke to Tyler earlier as it happens. He said he had talked to Councillor Kane about Devin. Apparently she’s known to frequent seedy establishments in the Western District.’
‘Opium dens?’ asked O’Brien, with a raised eyebrow.
‘The Councillor didn’t say that explicitly, but that was the inference, yes. He also said she had a soft spot for the bards or whatever they’re called.’
Seeing Myra gawping at this exchange, O’Brien frowned. ‘What is it?’
She closed her mouth and blinked a couple of times before answering. ‘It just seems… well, I don’t know Kyra well, but opium seems a bit extreme.’
‘You’d be surprised how common it is,’ said O’Brien knowingly. ‘It’s only illegal because Oliver Burrell couldn’t push through the tax reforms on it. I’m not saying it’s harmless, far from it, but in my experience we have a lot less trouble with it than we do with alcohol.’
Myra was lost for words. Opium, she had been taught, was a one-way trip to the devil. To think that Kyra Devin, one of her role models, would smoke it was unthinkable. O’Brien saw Myra’s expression and read it correctly.
‘Myra, you’re going to learn as you get older that the absolutes you trusted growing up are really not as rock-solid as you might like. The trick is to decide where your perceptions of right and wrong lie, and not to be too judgemental of others if they stray from the path a little.’
‘I suppose,’ agreed Myra, a little crestfallen.
‘Okay then,’ said O’Brien, all business again. ‘Jen, if you could get word to the slums. Gygath is the closest so start with that. Then get after Devin. Start with her apartment, her family, and go from there. Take Joseph and Brigs and see what you can find out. From here, Devin’s considered a priority. Is there anyone else we’ve not located?’
Narin flicked through a notebook. ‘Not according to my list.’
‘Then we work on the assumption she’s in trouble.’
‘Will do, sir,’ said Narin. She tucked her notebook into a bag and, with minimal fuss, left the room.
012: Quorum
Council Chambers, Central District, Skala City
A full shift after her meeting with Katherine, Nara Falla managed to assemble enough of the Privy Council to attain a quorum. Any decision reached would be valid and would stand uncontested in any subsequent meeting. Sitting around the table in an alcove of the Council Chambers were Urasa, Ratha, Devin and Erin James, in addition to the Matriarch and Falla herself. Encircling the table were a group of invited, mutually agreed upon, interested parties. John Orchard was one of these, the rest were made up of various representatives of bodies such as the Aya Construction Committee, the Resources Committee and minor delegates of both Ayon and Hellinar Research Facilities.
Chairing the meeting was Selwyn Abbot, who, true to form, dropped a scruffy pad in front of him, located a pen and threw on his glasses in a single swift motion.
‘Welcome, everyone, to this extraordinary meeting of the Privy Council. Are there any matters arising?’
Victor Urasa immediately leaned forward and, as if he couldn’t get his breathless words out fast enough, declared that there was. Raising a bushy eyebrow, Abbot enquired what he might like to raise.
‘The matter of your chairmanship, actually,’ he said, to everyone’s shock.
‘I’m sorry? I’m not sure I follow you?’ asked Abbot, regarding him with a calm suspicion.
‘We haven’t voted for you to chair this meeting, Chamberlain. We normally vote.’
Taken aback, an exasperated Abbot conceded. ‘Yes, that is normally the case but as this meeting was called by Councillor Falla at short notice, I was, I believe, the only available chamberlain.’
‘Well, that’s exactly my point,’ continued Urasa. ‘It all seems very convenient. One might almost say it’s a setup.’
Abbot stared direct
ly at Urasa, who refused to meet his gaze. ‘I’m not at all sure what you might be implying?’
‘I think you know exactly what I’m implying,’ he replied, drew an exasperated breath and continued. ‘Bearing in mind the likely subject matter of this meeting, called at extremely short notice as you said yourself, it seems to me that there is a bias towards a particular outcome and I’m questioning whether we should have a neutral…’ he paused and chose his words carefully, ‘chairperson.’
Abbot, trying not to sound as furious as he felt, invited Urasa to explain why he might not be neutral, given this had never been questioned during his decades of service.
‘I’m just asking the question, Chamberlain,’ replied Urasa.
‘Very well. Does anyone else around the table take exception to my chairing this meeting?’ It seemed no one did, which made it the more surprising when Urasa pushed further.
‘With respect,’ he said, ‘to settle the matter we should have a vote of confidence.’
‘For goodness’ sake, Victor. If you insist.’ Abbot stabbed the tip of his pen onto his pad in annoyance. ‘If anyone feels strongly about Victor’s motion, please raise your hand.’ No one did.
‘Then we can proceed with the meeting, unless there are other matters arising?’ None were raised and, as the other councillors looked at their hands in faint embarrassment, Victor Urasa reclined in his chair with the barest hint of triumph on his face.
‘Nara, you have a motion to put to the Council,’ he continued, clearly glad to be moving on.
‘Thank you, Selwyn,’ said Nara, in gratified acknowledgement. Her face then fell into a more serious expression. ‘You are all aware of the address made by Councillor Kane in the Council Chamber a few shifts ago. It seems to me, and I am not alone in this view, that not pursuing HEX would be too big a risk to take. If we don’t intercept her, the impact on the build programme of Aya may be catastrophic and leave some of the infrastructure unusable, at least until we invest the resources to understand it ourselves.’
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