*
Like so many computer hackers, Rojas Hose did not keep normal hours. And Renaissance did not want him to. She was happy for him to sleep away his days and to keep such a low profile that even after two weeks most of his colleagues on the Tower Hotel’s twentieth floor were not even aware of his existence. She believed that geniuses needed to be appreciated and not controlled and so she pretty much allowed Rojas to run unchecked. Even if it meant answering her door at three in the morning.
‘Who the hell is that?’ came a grumble from the other side of the bed.
‘Go back to sleep, Devita,’ Renaissance said. She put on her bathrobe and slippers and glanced one more time at Rojas in the bedside monitor screen. He had long hair and was wearing a Peace Keeper survival jacket with the sleeves cut off. He was looking down at the ground like he always did when he was concentrating. Renaissance went to the door and he immediately looked up. Renaissance had never before realised his eyes were blue.
‘Were you sleeping?’ Rojas said awkwardly.
‘Trying to. How about you?’
‘No, I wasn’t trying.’
‘What is it?’
Rojas started down the corridor. ‘There’s something.’
They walked to the other end of the floor to a closet-sized numberless door. Rojas opened it and stood aside for Renaissance. It was a dark, tiny room with its sole furnishings a table and chair. The defau holograms of nature scenes rising from the computer mat on the table was the room’s main source of light.
‘This is where you’ve been working?’ queried Renaissance incredulously.
‘Windows are for daydreamers,’ Rojas barked.
‘No wonder I could never find you. I thought this was simply a closet.’ Renaissance squeezed into the space between the table and the far wall. ‘So what’s on your mind?’
Rojas joined her in the room and closed the door.
‘I cannot tell you what they are saying and I cannot tell you who is saying it. Those things are buried within Unsociable Encryption. I would need five years in a room like this to have a chance of breaking it. What I am getting a better idea of is where they are transmitting from. Of course there is masking technology to conceal its origins, but this is a weak link.’
‘So you know of a message having been sent by Mas?’
‘That is the who. Like I said, I have no idea.’
‘If you don’t know the who, how can you possibly know the where?’
‘By following the arms. Someone believed to be in Europe with a past history in Africa and murky dealings with a boat travelling out of Costa Rica. Those are very long arms.’
Rojas reached into the hologram with an outstretched hand. The light seized upon it, wrapping around it in a dull red glow that quickly turned green. If his hand had failed the security check, it would have transformed into a bolt of electricity sufficient to render him senseless. Having been recognised, however, the light descended back to table level, forming an image of Earth with a triangle of red lines marked into it.
‘Don’t ask me to explain my conclusions because some of the steps I’ve used to reach them could be worth patenting. And some of them are illegal even for us.’
Renaissance took her communicator to mouth. ‘Spiros, there’s been a breakthrough. Come to the east corridor storage room - you’ll find it.’
She turned back to Rojas and snapped, ‘What are the points on the triangle?’
‘You might have asked that before you made the call out. It’s a strange triangle.’
‘Tell me.’
‘A space centre in Belgium, a private zoo in the Congo and an abandoned industrial site in Mexico.’
Renaissance mulled over the hologram a moment. ‘Interesting.’
Pardos appeared in the doorway, busily trying to get an arm into his jacket sleeve. ‘What is it?’
‘We’re going to Belgium.’
‘When?’
‘As soon as you can get that jacket on.’
Pardos pulled a dour face and finished dressing. He gestured to the hologram. ‘Something to do with Mas?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Shall I tell Kaptu Z to meet us there?’
‘No, there’s a zoo in the Congo I want him to pay a visit to. After two weeks zipped up in a bag, it’s time to take Blast for walkies.’
Pardos looked around the converted closet and shook his head. ‘Three in the morning in a room like this, no wonder you’re starting to get strange ideas. Mas is not an astronaut.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ replied Renaissance. ‘If you stop to think about it, there is sense in it. If she is embroiled in something big, the space colonies would be an ideal escape route. There are no extradition treaties enforceable outside Earth’s orbit. So there is no time to waste. We’ll take personal responsibility for scrutinising every passenger and crew member on every mission leaving Earth. Kaptu can help flush her to us. By going after her loved ones, it will make it clear her future on this planet is fast drying up.’
‘Very well. I will ready our flight.’
Once he had left, Rojas said, ‘I think you’re right. Mas is looking to escape and she has been saying goodbye to her family in Africa. But that means the location in Mexico must be directly related to the criminal enterprise that has her packing her bags. A final winner takes all job.’
Renaissance frowned. ‘You might be right, but if we foil that plot prematurely, there may be no need for Mas to flee Earth. She is our target, remember.’
‘Even if people have to die first?’
Renaissance smirked coolly. ‘You are obviously more than just an analyst. Even though I fear you may be too much more, you will be in charge of investigating the Mexican connection. No actions, however, will be taken without my go ahead. Especially if it’s inside the US. The insurance agents have made it quite clear we can’t afford it.’
‘Is there a technician available in case I need someone on the ground?’
‘Roy Hill is the Hurt World One technician for North America. He is working on a case involving hate-dog breeders in New York. A tough bunch who will have sharpened his teeth. We may well call on him, for I sense we are close enough to take Mas on once again. And this time I won’t let casualties get in the way. Even if it is me. You should read the case files on the last time Hurt World went after her. In order to keep their Cobra X species secure, the Spanish kept the males and females in separate locations. When Mas got her hands on a male, it was obvious where she was going next. And it was just as obvious what would happen if she got a female too. Heroin 3 was being produced from regular cobras and just starting to gain traction in the underground bar scene. The announcement that a new more potent version of King Cobra had been developed excited drug dealers even more than it did scientists. A ten million New Dollar bounty was placed on the acquisition of a breeding pair of Cobra X snakes. The United Nations Secretary General tasked Hurt World with preventing the transaction from ever taking place. We had skilled, well-trained people, but Mas was pure carnage. We lost our Hurt World One technician and most of her backup. Not to mention what happened to the Spanish military facility. Suffice to say Mas had her breeding pair.
‘And that was the last we heard of her until now. Or her snakes for that matter. It was the snakes for which we didn’t stop looking, couldn’t afford to. We didn’t know who Mas sold them too, all that we knew was that Heroin 3 went mainstream and came with a real pop. Overdoses went through the roof. Rumour had it Asylum City was the source but there was no direct proof. So we assigned Kaptu Z to look for some. And that more or less is what he has been doing for the past two years.’
‘Has he found any proof?’ murmured Rojas, somewhat surprised that he was being taken into Renaissance’s confidence to such an extent.
Renaissance lingered a moment. ‘He says he knows where to look.’