Forge of Heaven

  But now he had a crime on his doorstep and the real possibility of a major blowup in international politics.

  Maybe it was an intended outcome. Gide wasn't the only Earth-based interest that might have an agent or two loose in the governor's territory. He hesitated to suggest Earth as the culprit in assassinating its own representative, but the high-priced tech involved suggested very ample funding and concealment, far beyond the usual underworld operation.

  "Setha, my friend, I understand your reticence. But now that we're in this very delicate situation, believe me absolutely on this one: there is no First Movement tech, informational or otherwise, that has ever escaped the planet-not to my knowledge, and I sit on all the conduits. If there is anything loose, I don't think it originated here. Why did Gide pick this particular tap to interview about this problem? Does Earth particularly suspect him of passing information?"

  "The Freethinker connection. He was a Freethinker. They don't like that."

  "Is that where they think the problem has its base? Among the Freethinkers?"

  "You know his sister visited him last night. Clandestinely. I think Gide could have found that out. I know that contact would be suspect."

  "I knew. You know. They know. I'm sure any interested party alive knows by now she went there. It wasn't the brightest damned thing Procyon's ever done, but it didn't seem to be his idea. He threw her out and kept his conversation more or less honest, and I know precisely what they said. Do you?"

  A pause. "My intel isn't that specific."

  "Mine is, I assure you. I'll go over that transcript again, but I don't recall any part of it that could implicate him or her in any nonsense among the taps. Gide could have asked for the Ila's taps if they'd thought something underhanded was going on."

  "I don't think they'd want to touch her off."

  "Touch off is a fair description. But do they think bothering Marak's is without consequence? Tell Gide that the Outsider Chairman is as interested as they are, if they've got any solid information about a breach of security regarding First Movement tech. But I doubt it. It's the oldest crock in the book. It surfaces periodically. I strongly doubt it."

  "I'll relay that if I can. If I can find a politic way."

  "You say you've heard from Kekellen this morning?"

  "He's asking what Gide wants and about activity in the systems."

  "Their damned probes." He wiped his face, trying to think. Dealing with Kekellen required an extreme mental shift, a maze of do's and don'ts, and consequences far more alarming than an ambassador in a hospital bed. "I trust you to handle it. You're the associated party." Coldly put, meaning he didn't want his own administration in any way dragged into question. Let Earther authorities answer Kekellen's queries about these goings-on. "Meanwhile, get all your people off my man's trail. He's got orders to report to me to debrief. He will as soon as he can. But it's very likely he's going to run if you're behind him. And, not to cast a pall on our working partnership, but I have to assure you, just for the record, that you don't want the trouble that will follow if you do lay hands on him and don't tell me. That's not a threat. It's a fact of my administration. I can't stress enough how serious that is. If anyone has laid hands on him, I will take action."

  "The law moves under its own direction. He's a material witness, at very least, in something that impinges on our constitutional authority. He has to give us at least a statement to satisfy procedures. That ship out there-"

  "That's all well and good, you and your constitution. But don't arrest him. We'll get the truth out of him. We'll share it, and you'll get your statement. Chasing him is a waste of your police time, while the actual perpetrators may be running loose up there in your areas, armed. If they're not our domestic sort, I'll be frank about it, I'm concerned you're the next likely target on their list."

  "I take that as a friendly wish."

  "It is. I assure you, we did not do this. We would never put a tap in reach of your authority if we had arranged this. There are people we would risk. Not a Project tap. That's a fact you can rely on."

  A pause. "Antonio? I think I know what Gide is. A theory. a theory that I can't support. I think Gide is from the Treaty Board."

  "The Treaty Board?" That ancient body, bestir itself out of its torpor?

  Credible, though, if there actually was a security breach, and there actually were First Movement tech in question.

  Reaux had reason for his hesitance to breach Gide's confidence.

  "Setha, fear of data transmission from the planet-that crock's as old as Concord itself. I admit the Treaty Board's not going to involve itself on a whim, but whatever Gide came here for didn't come up through the taps, I'll just about swear to it." He trusted Jewel to assure her surroundings, not to tap in where she hadn't checked for bugs or eavesdroppers, but he didn't want to lean that hard on Jewel's ability. "This discussion in depth isn't appropriate for your present location. Just take extreme care for your own safety. I'm ending, now."

  "I'll get back to you. I'll try to talk to Gide in the next few minutes. Can this lady stay available to me?"

  Meaning Jewel.

  "Jewel, stay with him, wherever he wants you to be. I'm going out."

  "Yes, sir." Jewel herself tapped out.

  So Reaux wanted the tap-courier with him. He likely realized she might have other mods, too, mods in Jewel's instance that gave her extraordinary hearing and other perceptions. Reaux wasn't that worried about what Outsiders might overhear. He was worried about what the ship would hear.

  That said comforting volumes about Reaux's straight dealings with him.

  He'd reached the end of what he himself was willing to say. They had a geologic cataclysm in progress down on the planet, a Project tap had possibly fallen into the hands of whoever had hit Gide, Kekellen was upset, and the Earth ship was sitting out there watching it all, blaming Reaux, and writing reports that were going to racket all the way to Earth and Apex. Bloody hell.

  The little conference room, Reaux having disposed his own security outside, was at the end of the emergency corridor, a special corridor isolated from the run-of-the-mill traffic of a sectional hospital-some kid who'd fallen off a third tier balcony while climbing in the flower gardens, a man who'd developed gastric distress at a restaurant: those patients didn't get near this section.

  The hospital, citing its own regulations, had objected to admitting Mr. Gide because he had a penetrating wound of unknown origin. They'd delayed half an hour admitting him, until Dortland prevailed. Then they'd hurried him into the isolation ward, ironically treating the Earth ambassador as a contamination case-the sort of case they'd have preferred to shunt down to the 5th level emergency room at the Institute. Outsider hospitals had special resources to deal with bleeding wounds and clean out illicits if they were in question.

  Terrifying. A cut was all it took to endanger a life, or ruin one: a sore, a cut, even a drink of water, a risk stupid kids continually brushed up against, if they went down on 5th, where he had it on good authority his own foolish daughter was at this very moment. Suspicion, motive, and an open wound combined to get even a man of Gide's importance surrounded in plastic containment, every swab and piece of bandage contained and sent off to a lab for analysis. Gide was bleeding and he was not from Concord, and that meant, no matter his status, that the medical system handled him as a contagion, with a biosquad swabbing down the apartment and the area of the incident, not letting even investigators in until more was cleaned up than was going to help any investigation-but for the station's safety, that had to be the priority. The hospital authorities were trying in vain to find the elusive Mr. Stafford, who might also have been contaminated and now he had to pry Biohazard off Stafford's trail, far harder than calling back the police chase.

  But he tried. He made the call to Ernst, to let Ernst argue with the police and Biohazard alike.

  Then he explained to the supervising nurse that he intended, was absolutely determined, to visit Mr. Gide.

&n
bsp; Regulations insisted Gide's doctors and nurses wear full suits. Regulations made his visitor, even the governor of Concord, sign a waiver before they let him and two of his bodyguard suit up in ridiculous-looking clear plastic affairs with flimsy filter masks. Jewel Sanduski stayed at the entry station: to bring her in would leave a record of her presence and who had brought her, not to mention that she would tacitly convey everything they said straight to Brazis, and Reaux shuddered to think of the fallout if news of her presence got to the ship. She had heard and likely relayed all the conversation he'd had with the nurses about Gide's condition. What else she might hear, waiting back near the nurses' station, he had no idea, but with the ship on its own agenda, Brazis warning him of threats against his life, and Stafford having gone God knew where, he wanted a pipeline to Brazis, one that couldn't be recorded by any snoopery, and she remained that conduit.

  With his two bodyguards trailing, he cycled through the airlock barrier of the isolation ward and walked, rustling with plastic, down to number 10. Suited attendants were on watch there, unadvised, and they had to get permission to open that door.

  Until the lab reports came back, the physician of record had said, Gide was stuck here. Gide had been belligerent about being put in isolation. Consequently the doctors had tranked him, reportedly with enough juice to fell a dockworker. It was not, the doctor assured him, going to be a productive interview. No, they could not just give him a restorative, not until the lab work came back, not until they had done a thorough health workup. But yes, if the governor insisted, on his own responsibility, he could go in and try to talk to Mr. Gide.

  The attendants opened the door. It was the sphinx-face Reaux saw lying against the pillows, the sphinx, but human now, with white hair standing up in two odd-angled spikes, a pasty-pale complexion that held a faint blotchiness. Though tranked, Gide regarded him, slit-eyed.

  "Mr. Ambassador?"

  A blink. "Get me the hell out of this room."

  "As soon as the external wound heals over, Mr. Ambassador. A few cracked ribs and a shallow shrapnel wound-it's only the possibility of contamination they're worried about. There's a rule about bleeding wounds."

  "Only the contamination! As if spit and piss couldn't carry a contamination." Another blink. Several more. Tranked or not, Gide was waking up, and angry. "Where's Stafford?"

  "We don't know at the moment."

  "I'm not surprised." Gide moved, thin-lipped with pain, actually moved in a coordinated way, and jammed the pillow double beneath his head, fighting to keep his eyes open.

  "Stafford may be another casualty."

  "Dead?"

  "A possibility. I can only apologize-"

  "Apologize! I'm banned, do you understand?" Rage got past the sedation, justified rage. "I'm banned for life, thanks to your so-called security! My God!"

  "I can only express regret."

  "I can never see my family again! I can never so much as approach Earth!"

  "For them, emigration is a-"

  "Emigration! The hell! The hell, sir! I'm not bringing my family out to this hellhole! God knows what damned thing they sent inside my containment with that shell!"

  "I'm terribly sorry. But I can assure, for what it's worth, there's nothing lethal on Concord. Nothing of that sort."

  "You're a damned fool."

  The man was distraught-small wonder; and drugged, and apt to say things he wouldn't, but Reaux found it more and more difficult to keep his equanimity.

  "Have you been in contact with your ship at all, since, Mr. Ambassador?"

  "Only to be apologized to. A message relayed from the doctor. They can't take me back. Is that news?"

  "Well, if it's any comfort at all, every governor and every trade representative out here understands your distress. I was voluntary, of course, but no few enter the system accidentally, in your situation. Hardly with an explosive shell being the agent, but-"

  "Fool, I say!"

  His own patience was running thinner by the second. He thought of Kathy, and the risks she was running-voluntarily, down on 5th level-and this man lay here whining because he was damned to live on Concord in luxury, a future thorn in his side, no doubt politicking against him, only because his injury had happened on his watch, on his station, on his doorstep.

  Depend on it, if his suspicion was right and this man was from the Treaty Board, this was not only a full-blown diplomatic disaster, this man could be a long-term resident problem, right on his station, and he could only make matters worse by antagonizing the man while he was half-aware.

  "I can assure you we're actively tracking Mr. Stafford and tracing the weapon we found outside the apartment. The attack came through the open door. Was Mr. Stafford just arriving, or just leaving?"

  "Leaving." Out of breath, Gide recovered angry rationality. Eyes rolled, an attempt to gather resources. "He took exception to a body scan and opened the door. At that point, the world blew up. Next I was aware, I was on my side and that damned Outsider had his hands on me." A breath and a shudder. "Then your police came blundering in, exposing themselves to whatever might be there-if they're not in quarantine, why do they have me here? And Stafford is loose in the station, and you can't find him. But I'm in quarantine!"

  "His own authority is looking for him. We're pursuing every possibility. including the chance that some Earth-based entity with an agent here is your enemy. But there is the fact they didn't kill you. They didn't use force enough to kill you or Mr. Stafford, who was far less protected."

  "What are you saying?"

  "That it's possible they didn't intend to kill you."

  "Idiocy!"

  "You are, however, alive."

  "I doubt my welfare was anywhere in their consideration."

  "In my personal experience of assassination attempts, sir, which has been several, the usual suspect is either some local disturbed soul with a direct line to God, or someone within the same system as the intended victim, who has a motive and a plan. If you're not crazy, you don't assassinate someone who can't be an inconvenience to you. And you try not to botch the job. So why do you think someone would pick you in particular for a target, out of all the Earthborn officials that have ever come and gone here on a regular basis? It makes sense the motive lies in your specific business here. Though it's possible they didn't need to kill you, but to prevent you going further with that ship. Would there be any profit in that?"

  Gide was paying attention now. "What are you getting at?"

  "That's all I can possibly guess. Our investigation is necessarily hampered by not having the least idea what authority you represent or what your future plans are."

  "I have the legislative seal. You accepted the documents. That's all you need know. You can damned well take my word when I give it. Find Stafford. That's your start."

  "Very well and good, Mr. Gide, if that's the course you choose. But I'm sure Stafford, involved or not, didn't pull the trigger. And assuming they made a serious try at killing you, I'm also sure it's in your interest for us to find the agency responsible before you leave this hospital. You'll have to walk our streets as a private citizen for the rest of your life." He took a chance. "Or are you counting on being very much safer as soon as your own ship leaves?"

  "That's ridiculous!"

  "Whoever did this had resources much beyond a local lunatic or the average dissident. That shell was not easy to get, to hide, or to set up to use."

  "The Southern Cross didn't order this attack! Damn you, sir. Damn you for a complete incompetent!"

  Temper. A deep breath. "Then you need to tell me the truth of what you represent, Mr. Gide, and don't expect to set up and give orders on the basis of the documents you carry. If you're banned and abandoned here, you become one of my citizens who I have to presume is in possession of some very touchy state secrets, and you become my responsibility, both to protect you and to prevent any illicit use or compromise of those secrets. In that light, Mr. Gide, I suggest you make it clear to me what I'm protec
ting, or I'll have to assume the worst case possible."

  Gide blinked, blinked twice, as if to question what he'd just heard-perhaps too much for the heavy sedation. But depend on it, Gide was not a stupid man-one didn't get to the position Gide held by being a stupid man.

  "Point," Gide said, close-lipped. "Get these two idiots out of here. This is for your ears only."

  "Gentlemen." Reaux motioned at his escort.

  They withdrew. The door shut itself.

  "I'm with the Treaty Board," Gide said, and shifted up among his pillows-a move that occasioned a wince. "Career diplomat, specialty in the arrangements at Concord."