“Nobody. It’s not like that. We’re going to link you up one-to-one for a special client. That way this client gets to find out what you feel. I came to you because you’re the best sensorium artiste there is.”
“Yeah?” Tiger Pansy grinned sheepishly. “You’re an all right girl, Mellanie, I knew it when you came in here that first day. Straightaway, I said to myself, I said, she’s class, Tiger, you should try and be more like her. I’m not, though.”
“You’ll do it?”
“Mellanie.” Tiger Pansy put her head down and whispered, “there’s this, like, medicine I need to get through the day. Special medicine. Jaycee used to get it for me. I can’t go nowhere without it.”
For some reason, Mellanie’s throat tightened to an almost-painful degree. She couldn’t remember feeling so much sympathy for anyone before. “We can get it for you, I promise. Better quality than Jaycee ever supplied. You can go anywhere, Tiger. And when you’re rejuvenated you won’t need it anymore.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Tiger Pansy produced a lottery-winner smile. “Okay then.”
***
The look on Nigel Sheldon’s face wasn’t exactly engineered to make Oscar feel welcome. Daniel Alster, who’d met him from the train, had been polite and upbeat. Oscar had thought that attitude would reflect from his boss. Now, in the senior management suite at Narrabri station, he realized what a mistake that had been.
“So what does Columbia want?” Nigel asked. “It has to be important and delicate to send you.”
“The navy intelligence Paris office has found a rogue officer called Tarlo, and needs to arrest him. However, there’s a problem. Tarlo is on Boongate.” Oscar braced himself for the outburst.
Amazingly, Nigel leaned back in his chair and gave a bemused little smile. “Tarlo was one of the people on Illuminatus, wasn’t he?”
Oscar had to think back quickly over the briefing he’d absorbed on the train journey over from the High Angel. “Yes, sir.” All he could think was how amazingly well briefed Nigel Sheldon was. Then again, he is the head of the largest Dynasty.
“What sort of rogue?” Nigel asked maliciously.
“Sir, we need to arrest him and read his memories to confirm who he’s working for.”
“So Columbia is finally starting to believe in the Starflyer, is he?”
“Uh,” Oscar managed to rumble.
“Don’t worry, Oscar, I know it’s real.”
“You do?”
“Me and several others, so you can relax now.”
Somehow, that just wasn’t possible. “Thank you, sir. The Paris office has put together an arrest team. We’d like to send them through to Boongate.”
“The War Cabinet decided to keep all the Second47 wormholes closed.”
“I know, but it’s only a team of five. The time the wormhole would be open for isn’t long enough to permit any kind of mass exodus from the Boongate side, especially if the planet is unaware the wormhole is open.”
Nigel drummed his fingers on the desk. “What is the plan should they capture Tarlo intact?”
“Direct memory read.”
“That’s what we’re doing here with Starflyer agents; if Columbia is coming around to our views we can share our information with him.” He screwed up his face, undecided. “If they get Tarlo, the arrest team will want to come back. That’ll mean opening the wormhole again. People on Boongate will know; damnit, my people there will know, and I’ve already forced them to stay. I don’t think so, Oscar, I’m sorry.”
“The arrest team have volunteered to go into the future along with the rest of the planet. They’re not asking for a return trip, sir, they just want the chance to get their man.”
“Oh.”
“Tarlo is a critical Starflyer agent; his position in the Paris office allowed him to cover up any number of its operations. His memories would be invaluable in exposing the whole Starflyer network. I cannot overemphasize how important he is.”
“Damnit.” Nigel let out a long breath. “All right, but we keep this very quiet. If and when Tarlo is hooked up to a neural download the data extracted from his brain is to be routed through to the operation we’re putting together here. Columbia can have full access, but we direct the procedure.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Nigel nodded acknowledgment. “You’d better hook up with Wilson. He can brief you on our operation.”
“Wilson’s here?”
“Yes,” Nigel said wryly. “Along with some others you may recognize. But that’s not to be shared with Columbia until we’re convinced he’s acknowledged the Starflyer. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well. Daniel, organize some transport for the arrest team.”
“I’ll get right onto it. What do you want to do about opening the gateway?”
“The Paris team goes through, and that’s it. If it’s open for more than a minute I’ll want to know why. Who’s on duty over there?”
“Ward Smith. I’ll get over to the gateway control center and liaise with him myself.”
***
There were eight Guardians working on the big engine. The old Ables ND47 sat on the single track that ran through the huge Foster Transport shed, its new ultramarine paintwork gleaming under the bright overhead lights. A cluster of mobile gantries surrounded it, giving the engineeringbots access to the entire superstructure. Under the supervision of the Guardian team they were installing force field generators and medium-caliber weapons in casings that looked like they were integral segments of the bodywork. Forty meters behind the engine, two long enclosed wagons sat on the shiny rails.
Bradley Johansson stood beside the big coupling on the first wagon, looking up at its dusty yellow and maroon shell. A single connector cable dangled from beneath the coupling, its end almost reaching the ground; it was as thick as his torso.
“We’re basically ready to go,” Adam said. “All the equipment and vehicles are loaded. The old brute is so heavily armored even it will have trouble carrying the weight.”
“And if it does get hit?”
Adam grinned, and patted the cool metal chassis of the front wagon. “The armored cars make the final dash through to Half Way. I’ve got it all covered, Bradley, stop worrying. We will make it.”
“All of us?” Bradley asked quietly. He glanced at the Guardians swarming like acrobats over the gantries around the nuclear-powered engine. There wasn’t one of them over thirty-five.
“Most of us,” Adam said.
“I fear the dreaming heavens will be welcoming a lot of friends this coming week.”
“You know, I never did get that part of your philosophy. Why give the Guardians their own religion? That makes it look even more like a cult.”
“I didn’t. I’ve been to the dreaming heavens, Adam. It’s at the far end of the Silfen paths, a place where noble demons fly through an endless sky. I was cured there.”
Adam gave him a judgmental look.
Bradley’s e-butler told him Senator Burnelli was calling.
“I’ve been in a meeting,” she told him.
“Forgive my lack of surprise, Senator, but that’s what politicians do.”
“Not meetings like this one, we don’t. You’ll be happy to hear you’re almost legitimate now. We want to bring you in, Bradley, you and the Guardians.”
Bradley opened the call to Adam as Justine explained what had been decided at Nigel Sheldon’s mansion.
“The Starflyer is the same family as the Primes,” Bradley said. “Well, in all the dreaming heavens, I never knew that. It does make sense, though. I remember its interest in the Dyson Pair right from the start.”
“Do you know where the Starflyer is?” she asked.
“No, but like you, we believe it will try and get through to Boongate.”
“It can’t. However, we are going to let it think it can. If its train approaches the gateway, our squad will bag it.”
“A honey trap. Good idea.”
“You’re at the Narrabri station already, aren’t you?”
“Now, Senator, you know that’s not a question I’ll answer for you.”
“But we want to join forces. You must have established procedures for this very moment.”
“We are certainly prepared for most eventualities.”
“Well then, we stand a much better chance if we combine our operations.”
“Forgive me, but after being hunted like a diseased animal for a hundred and thirty years, it is understandably hard for me to welcome the hounds into my house.”
“You have my word this is an honest offer; Nigel Sheldon’s word, too. I can put you in contact. You can hear it from him personally.”
“I appreciate that. However, there is one way you can settle the problem of trust.”
“Yes?”
“Kazimir McFoster was carrying some data for us when he was murdered at LA Galactic. We believe you may have it.”
“I do, yes.”
“Excellent. If Paula Myo delivers it to me in person, then I will truly know the Guardians have come in from the cold.”
“How about if I deliver it? Surely that would prove our goodwill?”
“Please understand, if it is the Investigator, I can be absolutely certain. I believe in her honesty. It is the one true constant in a very uncertain universe.”
“But you don’t trust me?”
“Please don’t be offended, Senator. It’s just that habits, both good and bad, become ingrained over a hundred thirty years. And I am a creature of habit.”
“Very well, I’ll see what I can do. But listen, CST is searching Narrabri station in case the Starflyer is already in place. If the security teams close in on you, for heaven’s sake call me. The last thing we need is for us to be shooting at each other.”
“Thank you, Senator. I am not so prideful as to risk everything we have achieved on a point of stubborn principle. If we are in trouble, I will shout for help very loudly indeed.”
“I’ll get back to you.”
Bradley smiled, his eyes focused on the far end of the shed. Adam groaned in dismay, resting his forehead on the huge steel wheel. “I can’t believe you just did that. Paula Myo? You’ve got to be fucking joking. As soon as she sees you or me, she’ll blow our brains out. She has no choice; her DNA won’t let her do anything else.”
“Nonsense, Adam, you must have more faith in human nature.”
“She squealed on her own parents, for God’s sake.”
“They weren’t her parents, though, were they? They were her kidnappers.”
“Oh for—We had it. We were there. Burnelli was offering us legitimacy, and you blew it. So much for not being prideful. Damnit!” He slapped the wheel in frustration.
“Adam, Adam, have you no negotiating skills? Investigator Myo is the opening gambit. It would be lovely if she did agree, but I expect we’ll wind up with a two-minute call from Nigel Sheldon or some other high-placed player.”
Adam groaned again, sounding like an injured animal. “I don’t need this extra stress. I really don’t.”
“It won’t be much longer, I think we can both be sure of that.”
The CST exploratory division wormhole at Narrabri station followed the usual layout: An isolated building away from the commercial sector, where the big environment confinement chamber was grafted onto the gateway. The Operations Center and all the associated support team offices formed a protective honeycomb around the outside.
Paula stood on the floor of the environment chamber waiting for the wormhole to be aligned. Nigel stood at her side, his mouth raised in a soft smile as he looked at the fuzzy bubble of air that was the force field capping the wormhole.
“Always gives me a buzz,” he confessed to the Investigator. “People just take this for granted so much these days, nobody appreciates the technology and energy sitting behind a gateway.”
“Making the extraordinary appear commonplace is the ability of true genius.”
“Thank you, Paula. Tell me, would you consider marrying me?”
“You ask me that every time we meet.”
“What do you answer every time?”
“No thank you.”
“Ah well, I’m sorry. And I won’t wipe this time from my memory. You must think me appallingly boorish to have done so before.”
Paula gave him a sly look. “If you ever did.” The slight flush above his collar was confirmation enough for her. “What did Heather say about the Starflyer infiltration?” she asked.
“Let’s just say she’s not a very happy person today. Christabel helped her save some face with the precautions she’s already instigated. Good move on your part alerting her.”
“It was Renne Kampasa who knocked on the door.”
“The one who died on Illuminatus?”
“She suffered bodyloss, yes.”
Nelson and Mellanie walked into the chamber. Paula was about to greet them when another woman came through the open airlock. She walked carefully, balancing on platform shoes that added over ten centimeters to her height. Paula froze in surprise.
“This is Tiger Pansy,” Mellanie said. She sounded proud, as if she was introducing a sister who’d made good.
“Real pleased I’m sure,” Tiger Pansy said around her gum. She smiled at Paula. “Hey, I know you, you’re that famous Investigator, right. I was wanting to play your character in Murderous Seduction, but Jaycee gave it to Slippy Gwen-Hott instead. Shame, that.”
Paula had absolutely no idea how to reply. She looked at Nigel for guidance. He seemed indecently pleased at her discomfort.
“Delighted to have you here, Tiger Pansy,” Nigel said with perfect civility.
“Oh, wow, it really is you.”
“This,” Paula sputtered at Mellanie, “this is the person you found for Qatux?”
“Of course,” Mellanie said. “Tiger Pansy is perfect.”
Paula took a breath, and gave the porn starlet a close look. Tiger Pansy was combing at her wild red hair with three-centimeter gold and purple fingernails. Her facial skin was leathery, with a sheen that betrayed inexpert reprofiling treatments that not even her excessive makeup was able to conceal. She’d squeezed into a henna-colored skirt that only came halfway to her knees; a black blouse had the top three buttons undone. Paula was sure Tiger Pansy was wearing an uplift bra. She really didn’t need to. “Do you know what you’re supposed to be doing?” Paula asked.
“Yeah, Mellanie explained it all to me. It’s kinda weird, but what the hell. It ain’t fucking a D.O.L. for a living. Right?” She giggled loudly, a sound reminiscent of a sea lion mating call.
And Paula realized that, actually, Mellanie was one hundred percent right. Tiger Pansy was perfect for this. “Right,” Paula agreed.
“They’re coming through,” Nelson announced.
The dark force field turned fluorescent as the Operations Center locked the wormhole exit inside the High Angel, the first time the sentient starship had ever allowed that to happen. Hoshe and Qatux walked through it.
Tiger Pansy’s jaw stopped chewing as she looked up at the big alien. “Oh, wow.” Her giggle turned nervy. Even Mellanie’s chirpiness faded away.
Nigel stepped forward. He bowed. “Qatux, welcome to the Commonwealth. We are honored that you’re here. I only wish it was under different circumstances.”
“Nigel Sheldon,” the alien rasped. Several of its eyes swayed around to look at the Dynasty leader. “I am grateful for this opportunity. My race has remained sheltered in the High Angel for too long. And is this the delightful lady who has agreed to be my companion during this visit?”
“Ohh.” Tiger Pansy’s mouth opened to a wide incredulous O. She walked forward, almost falling as her shoes wobbled on their slender heels. Nigel, Nelson, and Paula all gave a little lurch forward, their arms lifting in unison ready to catch her. “You’re a real gentleman, you know that.” Tiger Pansy hesitantly put out a hand. r />
Qatux unrolled an unsteady tentacle. Its tip coiled gently around Tiger Pansy’s wrist. She shivered as if caught in a blast of icy air. Slender OCtattoos glowed a phosphor green beneath her skin; for a moment her whole body was luminous, with emerald pinpricks shining through her fuzz of hair. Qatux sighed like a human who’d just downed a whiskey chaser in one.
Tiger Pansy looked down at her hands as the light faded. “I didn’t know they could do that. You got you some fancy software there, Mr. Qatux.”
“Yes,” Qatux murmured. “I thank you for allowing my routines access to your circuitry. They can provide the direct links I require. I can feel your emotional content perfectly. You are a poignant lady, Tiger Pansy.”
Tiger Pansy’s nervous giggle sliced into the silence. “Hey, that’s really sweet.”
Qatux released her hand; its head swung around to face Nigel and Nelson. “And now it will be my delight to help you uncover the Starflyer agents in your midst.”
“We’re setting up a dedicated analysis center,” Nelson said. “The suspects will be brought in for you once we’ve neutralized any wetwired weapons.”
The biggest airlock door in the chamber expanded. Qatux moved through it with a ponderous gait. Tiger Pansy tottered alongside. “So is there, like, a Mrs. Qatux?” she asked.
Paula couldn’t help the gentle smile on her face as she watched the very odd couple leave.
“Now there’s something you don’t see every day,” Hoshe said quietly.
“Only once in a very long lifetime, I’d say,” Paula replied. Her e-butler told her there was a call from Justine for herself and Nigel.
“I’ve made contact with Johansson,” Justine said. “He’s willing to help us track down the Starflyer, but there’s a problem.”
“Which is?” Nigel asked.
“He wants some proof that our offer isn’t an entrapment. After all, he has spent a hundred thirty years being pursued by the Serious Crimes Directorate, and now he’s about to face his target.”
“Will a personal guarantee from me swing it?” Nigel asked.
“He wants Paula to deliver the data Kazimir McFoster was carrying.”
“No.” The word came out before Paula even knew she’d said it. There was no analysis, no careful reasoning. She simply knew the answer.