“It was, yes. Like I said, don’t rule me out through sentiment or belief that I am incorruptible. You must be logical.”
“All right. What about the others, Cat’s Claws?”
“Firstly, they have been out of contact behind enemy lines. What happened to them there is unknowable. Then again, they are all extremely dangerous criminals. Perhaps they did this to further their own agenda.”
“Jesus H. Christ. That’d be just dandy right now, another group out to wreck us.”
“It’s a remote possibility, but bear it in mind. The most unusual pair we have with us are Qatux and Tiger Pansy.” She coughed again, and flopped her head down on the thin pillow. “Frankly, I can’t think Qatux is a Starflyer agent, but then he’s not the most reliable or normal Raiel citizen, and his insistence on coming with us is unusual. Plausible, but odd. As for Tiger Pansy, remember Mata Hari.”
“She was a dancer and courtesan. With respect, Tiger Pansy isn’t quite that exalted.”
“You know your history. I’m impressed; that’s not in your file.”
“Hidden depths, me, Investigator. So what do we do with Tiger Pansy?”
“Class her as a definite unknowable. If she is our saboteur, then I think we’ve already lost. But again, it’s your decision.”
“All right, that leaves us with the two Kimes and Oscar.”
“All of whom were on board the Second Chance. We know there was a Starflyer agent on board. Therefore: all suspect.”
“Right,” he said brokenly. “I really am on my own.” Then he realized he actually wasn’t, that there was one small fact that Paula didn’t know about. He smiled, and nearly began to tell her. Then stopped. First, he really didn’t know for sure that she wasn’t the Starflyer agent. All he had was his gut feeling that she couldn’t be, not the Paula Myo. Which isn’t good enough to decide the outcome of a war. And second, the Investigator couldn’t be allowed to know.
“What?” She was looking at him.
“Nothing. So if I can’t check individuals for motive, I have to go for opportunity, don’t I?”
“Very good, Elvin. By my reckoning, it had to take place during the Carbon Goose flight. The trucks were unguarded during a nine-hour flight, when anyone could get onto the cargo deck without being seen.” Paula’s voice had been weakening, now her eyes closed. “I need to sleep,” she said. “I’m very cold.”
“I need you to keep going just a moment longer, please. There were people on the cargo deck.” He twisted the locks on the medical kit and pulled out a diagnostic array.
“Including you and me for a lot of the time. Which is why only four crates were sabotaged. The Starflyer agent couldn’t risk an extended process; they might have been seen.”
Adam put a diagnostic patch on her clammy forehead and ran the program. “Why didn’t they just blow us up?”
“What are you doing?” Paula tried to push the diagnostic away, but he caught her hand and held it. She had no strength to stop him.
“Finding out what the hell’s the matter with you.” The array’s little screen began to fill with data. Her pulse was alarmingly rapid.
“Don’t,” she groaned, sucking air through her teeth.
“Christ, you’ve hardly got any blood pressure. Concentrate for me. If there was a Starflyer agent on the Carbon Goose, why didn’t they blow it up?”
“Good question. Simplest solution applies: they didn’t because they couldn’t. They had no access to suitable heavy-duty weaponry.”
“Cat’s Claws and the Paris team did. So do most of my Guardians.”
“That’s good; we can start eliminating people now. Out of the Guardians traveling with us, who doesn’t have an aggressor armor suit?”
“Rosamund and Jamas.” The array finished its review of Paula’s body. “It can’t detect any viral infection.” Adam paused. “It reads like you’re in shock.”
“Good verdict,” she croaked. “I am undergoing a physical reaction to a traumatic experience.” Her eyes fluttered shut, then snapped open again. “Now…none of the three navy people with us had aggressor armor, Nelson gave them protective suits.”
“What about you?”
“Same as the navy three, my armor is protective; I do have weapons but nothing that can take out a Carbon Goose, certainly not with a couple of shots. You must have access to weapons.”
“I do.” He gritted his teeth. “What trauma? What’s doing this to you? Christ, Paula, your body can’t take this kind of punishment.”
“You,” she said with a mocking smile. “Now think, if the Starflyer agent is with us in the Volvos, it has to be either myself, Wilson, Anna, Oscar, Rosamund, or Jamas.”
“What do you mean, me?”
“I wanted to arrest you, but I had to let you come here where you’ll be able to elude me when the mission is over. I can’t do that. It’s wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. You’re a mass murderer, I cannot put that aside. Thought I could, but I can’t. My body is reminding me of that.”
He stared at her in growing horror. “You’re in shock from letting me walk free?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck, Paula, this has to stop.” His e-butler began to display treatment routines for shock. He pulled an oxygen mask from the medical kit, and switched on the little extractor filter pump as he pressed it over her mouth. “Start breathing as regular as you can, I’m going to give you a sedative to try and calm your body down.”
Paula groaned. She pushed the mask aside. “It was Kieran’s truck that broke down; he really should have noticed something was wrong before it got bad enough to catch fire.”
“Fuck that! Your life is a damn sight more important.”
“It’s not. We must find out who the traitor is, the criminal. If they’re with us, they’ll strike again.”
“Not this instant they won’t. How could this happen to you?”
“I’m driven, remember? It’s in my genes.”
“Is everyone from the Hi—Huxley’s Haven like this? How can a whole planet be so flawed? You don’t get to do what you want and you just keel over with a fever? It’s insane!”
“My profession is unique even among the general population of Huxley’s Haven. There are not many police officers. The Foundation sequenced in our need to see cases to their conclusion. Admiral Columbia claimed it to be an obsessive compulsive disorder; I believe it was in fact originally derived from that.”
“So what the hell happens to the police if they don’t catch the bad guy?”
“They keep on going. No case is ever closed until it has been solved and the criminal arrested. The difference here is that I was forced into letting you go. It simply doesn’t happen on Huxley’s Haven. There is no such thing as political pressure to protect criminals.”
“You said you’d come after me. Doesn’t that help?”
“No. I’m not arresting you now, which is what I know I should be doing.” Her voice had faded to almost nothing. She closed her eyes.
Adam pulled an applicator tube out of the case; its sedative was close to what the e-butler’s medical program was telling him to use. “Hang on, you understand me? We’ll get you through this. Don’t you give up on me now, don’t you fucking dare.”
***
An angel walked into the mansion without any warning, causing a ruckus with the security staff on duty that morning. They didn’t want to let her in. She ignored their protests with the casual aristocratic disdain that was the heritage of any senior Dynasty child.
Orion, who was wandering along the vast terrace overlooking the huge swimming pool, heard the argument and glanced back in through the open French doors. The angel was standing right at the other end of the mansion’s vaulting formal hallway, framed by the open front door. He could scarcely believe what he saw. She was so beautiful it made his eyes ache; tall with golden-hued skin, and strong broad shoulders. Her long face had the sharpest cheeks he’d ever seen; they were lovely even though they made her chin prominent. Strai
ght, pale brown hair was cut into a long tapering cloak that reached halfway down her back, moving like a single sheet of glossy silk every time she tossed her head. Her legs, which at this point Orion would have killed for a glimpse of, were hidden inside a long skirt of thin, reddish purple cotton with a green flower print. He did get a joyous sight of her perfectly toned midriff between the skirt and a plain white cotton camisole top.
She was, she told the security staff, Jasmine Sheldon. Did they not know that? Did they not know she was one of Nigel’s fifth-generation granddaughters, a first-lifer, and direct lineage? How else could she enter a Sheldon residence unless she had the correct family security clearance? Had no one told them she always took the start of her mid-year vacation at this mansion? Her friends from school would be dropping by in a couple of days. Until then she would have a quiet time to herself. Any problems, talk to the Dynasty office in Illanum. They sort out any difficulties encountered by senior family members. Besides, she obviously couldn’t go back now, the cab was already halfway down the drive. She would take the Bermuda room. No need to show her upstairs, she knew the way. Her three cases of luggage followed behind her like cowed employees.
“Wow!” Orion breathed after she vanished up the broad stairs. He watched the humiliated security staff go into a huddle, the vertical lines of green and red OCtattoos on their cheeks glowing bright in agitation. They broke apart to scurry off into the mansion’s vast interior. “Now what do I do?”
There was nobody around to suggest a course of action; just when he needed advice the most. Very different from last night. The security people had been polite but firm when they arrived at the mansion. He was free to use any facility in the building he wanted, including the health spa and sports gym down in the basement. If he required any clothes or commercial item he simply had to ask and it would be delivered. The kitchen staff would cook whatever meal he wanted. As for the grounds, please stay within three miles of the mansion, otherwise he could walk where he wished.
Ozzie was now nowhere to be seen. They’d had a late breakfast together, while Ozzie explained to Orion and Tochee the reasons behind their house arrest. Orion hadn’t really understood the political intricacies, just that Ozzie and his friend Nigel had some kind of big bust-up over the way the war was going; and a crime that Ozzie had been involved in decades ago was a part of it. “It’ll be cleared up by the end of the week,” Ozzie said. “Nigel will be kissing my ass and begging forgiveness. You’ll see.”
“I do not mind,” Tochee said. “This is a pleasant place to spend some time. They promised me continued access to your databases. After so much traveling I am enjoying a respite where I can broaden my education.”
“Yeah, okay,” Orion told him. “I can hang around for a week of luxury.” He smiled to show he meant it, all the while knowing it was complete Ozzie bullshit. After so much time spent together, how Ozzie thought he could still fool either of them was a complete mystery. It was quite obvious they were in deep shit with Nigel Sheldon, and there was nothing Ozzie could do to get them out of it.
Orion found Tochee and Ozzie in the ground-floor study, walking through a portal projection of the Dark Fortress generator. Ozzie was standing in what resembled a ring of bright comets, looking as if he were wading through them as they circled around his waist.
The outer shells rotated slowly around him and Tochee. Luminous green equations drifted overhead like mathematical clouds.
“I believe your knowledge of physics is greater than that of my planet,” Tochee said. “I can offer little insight into the nature of quantum foundation theory. It may be poor translation again, but five geometry field transection is not a subject I have ever heard of, let alone know how to manipulate.”
“ ‘Sokay, dude,” Ozzie said magnanimously. “I was just thinking out loud.”
“Girl!” Orion blurted. He stood on the edge of the projection, unable to move forward, as if it were generating a force field. “There’s a girl.”
Ozzie and Tochee both turned around to face him. “Howsthat?” Ozzie asked.
“Girl.” Orion waved his arms, gesturing furiously at the study door. “Out there, a girl!”
“Ah. There’s a girl out there, then?” Ozzie said.
“Yes!”
“So?”
“Ozzie, she’s incredible, she’s so beautiful.”
“Look, dude, I’ve told you: hands off the security staff.”
“No, no: not.”
“Not?”
“She’s not security.”
“Who is she then?”
“A Sheldon. There was some mix-up; she’s here on holiday. But, Ozzie, they’ll throw her out as soon as they talk with the Dynasty office in Illanum.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Ozzie!”
“What? Jeez, you can be a pain.”
“Stop them.”
Ozzie’s face screwed up in puzzlement. “Why?”
“I believe I understand, friend Orion,” Tochee said. “You are attracted to the young female of your species. Is she one totally fuckable babe? Perhaps similar to Andria Elex on the unisphere show about human mating habits on the world of Toulanna that we accessed at the hotel?”
A mortified Orion turned bright red.
Ozzie gave Tochee a moderately surprised look, then turned back to Orion. “Did you show Tochee that kind of show? I thought I’d locked access away from porn.”
“Ozzie, forget that! She’s got to stay. I want to…I want…” He lifted his hands in despair.
“To bang her brains out?”
“No. Well…You know. I just don’t want her to go. I’ve never seen anybody like her before. Please.”
“All right, this is really simple, kid: ask her to stay.”
“What?”
“Go up to her. Smile. Say hello. Strike up a conversation. If you get on fine, ask her to stay. If she says yes, I’ll back you up with Nige if our guardian Nazis get heavy.”
“What’s the Nazis?”
Ozzie clapped his hands together and made a shooing motion. “Go talk to her. Go on. And remember, don’t try and be smart. What you are makes you interesting. Now out! I’m trying to save the universe here, and I don’t have much time left.”
The study door shut behind Orion. He couldn’t quite understand how he’d wound up back in the hall and no better off than when he went in. Ozzie had been absolutely no use whatsoever. That hurt. He’d been kind of counting on Ozzie.
“Think,” he told himself sternly. Maybe Ozzie was right, maybe he should just start with saying hello. Anything else would seem desperate.
He went back to his room and rubbed a lot of toothgell on his teeth, rinsing twice. His hair was easy to comb now thanks to the stylist back at the Ledbetter Hotel. The active biogenic dermal cream had worked wonders on his pimples overnight. A quick check in the mirror showed a face that was relatively presentable, certainly better than when they walked off the end of the path. He was just wearing a short-sleeved orange shirt and knee-length swim shorts, which made it tempting to dress up, but that would be out of character and seem like he was trying to impress.
Okay, so…go!
He couldn’t find her. She wasn’t in the Bermuda room when he knocked tentatively on the door; she wasn’t in any of the lounges. When he ventured into the kitchen, the cook hadn’t seen her.
After twenty minutes of fruitless searching, he gave up. The security staff must have received the authorization to eject her. He wandered out onto the terrace, almost ready to cry. She’d been so beautiful, and he’d actually been prepared to make an utter fool of himself by opening his mouth. Anything, just to be in her presence for a moment. He leaned on the stone railing above the lower terrace where the oval pool stretched out into the gardens. On the whole, he’d been better off walking the paths.
“Hi. Are you one of the staff?”
Orion jumped and spun around. She was sitting right behind him in one of the sunloungers, dressed in a pale peach t
oweling robe. A delicate finger pressed a pair of silver shades up from her nose, so she could look at him properly.
“Uh, no.”
“Oh, which branch are you from?”
“I don’t live in a tree.” It was out before he could stop it. He closed his eyes and groaned, knowing his wretched face would be coloring again.
Jasmine Sheldon laughed. It was an enchantingly soft sound. But not mocking, he thought. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’ve seen rather a lot of trees lately, can’t stop thinking about them. Um, I’m Orion.”
“Hi, Orion, I’m Jasmine.”
He sat on the sunlounger next to her. “What are you reading?” A large leather-bound book was resting on her legs. He twisted around to read the silver lettering on the front. The Hundred Greatest Events of Human History.
“Found it in the library,” she said. “I was reading about the Great Wormhole Heist.”
“Really? Does it mention Ozzie?”
“Don’t think so. I haven’t read all of it, though.”
“Ah, what about a guy called Nazi? Is he in one of the events?”
“I’ve never heard of him. It’s got an index in the back.” She handed it over. “So why are you here?”
“Long story.” He flicked through the book that was mainly photos and holograms until he found the index. There were a lot of columns of small print that he had trouble reading.
She smiled and stretched herself out comfortably on the sunlounger. “It’s going to be a long summer. Assuming we win the war.”
The toweling robe around her legs fell open as she laid back. Orion was very proud of himself for not staring—not for too long, anyway. Her legs were long and powerful. She was probably stronger than he was. It was a thought that turned his stomach to a kind of cold jelly.
“Well?” she asked. “I’ve just come from school. I don’t have anything interesting to tell you, just months of lessons and sports afternoons.”
Her inquisitive eyes were green, he noticed. “Uh, I was living on Silvergalde. My parents had got lost somewhere down the Silfen paths, so I was helping at the Last Pony. That’s a tavern in Lyddington. Anyway…Ozzie turned up one day—”