Sidespace Page 26

  While the others stacked Vii’s crates onto the second dolly, he wandered toward the center of the main lab. Once there, he turned in a slow circle.

  “Annie, I just want to say…thank you. For everything. I hope Abigail’s safe, and I hope she can help us be together again. But if not…it’s been an honor sharing mindspace with you. I no longer feel whole without you in my head, but if there’s no other choice, I promise I’ll try to find a way to be.”

  ‘The honor has been mine, but don’t despair. Abigail will be rescued, and our plan will work. Until then, I have your back.’

  “You really, really do. You’re the best, Annie. The best.”

  He worked past the lump in his throat as Ramon and Sayid pushed Vii’s dolly toward the door. “Okay, everybody. Quiet as mice. Let’s get to our ride.”

  The return journey through the service hallways of Special Projects was uneventful, except for the ten terror-soaked seconds of hiding from a security patrol traversing the crossway in front of them, darkness their only cover.

  Getting their transport onto the Island had been Annie’s grandest feat by far. It had required overriding two force field security triggers and multiple low-altitude motion sensors, not to mention half a dozen cams and VI surveillance routines. Now she would have to repeat the process to allow them to escape without detection.

  The vessel was a small intra-planetary shuttle Sayid had ‘borrowed’ from his employer for the evening. It barely rated to carry the weight they were getting ready to stuff onto it plus four people.

  Devon sincerely hoped the engine didn’t buckle under the weight and drop them into the Strait.

  VANCOUVER

  It didn’t.

  Ramon was stifling yawns by the time they reached the charter hangar, and Sayid had given up on wisecracks halfway there, but Devon was still wired as high as a new chimeral junkie.

  Not wanting to risk the gauntlet of security at ORS, Mia had arranged transportation out of a small, privately run spaceport north of Vancouver. Meno and Vii had been loaded into the vessel’s cargo bay, and the pilot had indicated they were ready to depart. The man seemed uninterested in their cargo and accepted their ‘no questions asked’ directive—so much so Devon had to wonder exactly how much Mia was paying the pilot.

  He plastered on a smile and turned to his friends. “Guys, you rock in the extreme. I’ll figure out some way to pay you back. Probably.”

  Sayid gestured dismissively. “The thrill of breaking into Earth Alliance Mother-Fucking Strategic Command and stealing two Artificials was payment enough, man.”

  Ramon punched him in the shoulder. “No, it wasn’t. Devon’s totally going to have to pay us back.”

  Sayid nodded. “Right, right.”

  The two glanced at each other, and Ramon took a half-step forward. “So…what about Emily?”

  Simply hearing the name aloud sent a dagger into Devon’s heart, but he did his damnedest not to let it show. He gave them an exaggerated shrug. “I’ve got to let her go, man. She’s not coming back, and I’ve got to accept it.”

  “Want me to tell her anything? I mean, obviously you can send her a message, but if you’d rather I pass something along?”

  “Tell her I still love her…nah, that’s pathetic. Tell her…tell her to be safe.”

  “Can do.”

  He bumped fists with Ramon, then shook his hand, slipping a crystal disk into his palm as he did.

  Ramon opened his mouth to ask about it, but Devon motioned him quiet. Leaving the disk with his friend was his own personal act of mutiny, but this was not the time or place to give voice to it.

  Ramon stared at Devon a moment, but finally nodded. “Good luck.”

  “Yep. Remember: Hack The Galaxy, Code of Anonymity, Free The Data…and whatever other mantras we say. Stay frosty.”

  Mia was waiting for him at the top of the ramp, eyes sparkling beyond the synthetic glow which now perpetually animated them as he approached.

  He tilted his head in interest. “What is it?”

  “They got her out.”

  33

  ERISEN

  EARTH ALLIANCE COLONY

  * * *

  KENNEDY WAS TRYING HER DAMNEDEST to concentrate on the schem-flow for what would hopefully become Connova’s premier personal interstellar starship when the office VI announced the presence of her father at the entrance.

  She frowned. Why would he show up unannounced? And without her mother at his side? For that matter, why would he make the trip to Erisen at all? Despite the fact it was only a three-hour transport hop from Earth, he’d visited her three times in all the years she’d lived here, and all three visits involved much ado.

  Lacking answers, she killed the screen and pushed herself up off the chaise, where she’d been lying on her stomach with the schem-flow floating in front of her. She ran fingers through her hair, straightened her shirt and prepped a welcoming smile. “VI, open the door.”

  “Dad, come in. This is a pleasant surprise.”

  His gaze darted around the still spartan office. “Yes, I hope so.”

  Kennedy gestured to the table in the alcove that passed for conference space. “Please, sit. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No, thank you.”

  She sat opposite him and clasped her hands on the table. “What’s up? You seem troubled.”

  “I am troubled. Kennedy, you need to sign the amendment to the adiamene contract with the Alliance.”

  She fell back in the chair. “How do you even know about that?”

  “Representative Cuevas came to see me this morning. He wanted to personally impress upon me the importance of your cooperation in this matter.”

  “My cooperation? They don’t want my cooperation—they want to strong-arm me into becoming their lackey. But I won’t let them. This is my business, and they can’t have it.”

  The way he regarded her reminded her of when she was a child and he was lecturing her on the unique responsibilities which came with being a member of the Rossi lineage. Something told her that was precisely the lecture she was going to receive now.

  He didn’t disappoint. “Our family has been staunch supporters of the Alliance for centuries. We must be good stewards of this legacy as well as good citizens. Now, you didn’t create this metal—you merely discovered it in a happy accident. The patent is a nice formality, but in truth you have no special claim to adiamene.”

  She’d always known her father lacked the entrepreneurial élan of his ancestors, but she’d believed he at least appreciated the concept. “I’m appalled you would say such a thing. But this isn’t really about capitalism or profit—it’s about not allowing the military to use my discovery in a bid to bully the rest of settled space. This is an important—arguably even revolutionary—engineering advancement, which is exactly why it should be available to everyone.”

  “Kennedy, Cuevas threatened to take away our government contracts if you don’t sign the amendment.”

  “So? You have other contracts—hundreds of them.”

  “Yes, but a word whispered in the right ear, and those vanish, too. These are powerful people, and they are not good enemies to make. You cannot simply act as you wish and give no thought to the consequences for others. You must uphold your family’s name and reputation, not to mention its goodwill and favor among the Alliance leadership.”

  She snorted, a most inelegant action on her part. “That’s a hell of a guilt trip. You know I care about our family and its history, but Dad, the world is changing. We need to change with it. So what if a few insipid politicians stop taking your comms, or you don’t get invited to a few parties? There’s a whole galaxy of people and opportunities out there—and parties, too. Washington and London aren’t the center of the world anymore.”

  “Well, they are the center of our world. Think about what you’re doing, Kennedy. If you turn your back on your heritage, you might not be able to reclaim it.”

  “I wasn’t aware I was tu
rning my back on anything. The Alliance can have as much adiamene as it wants and is able to produce—they just don’t get to tell me who else can’t have it. End of story.”

  Her father stared at the table rather than her. “If you persist in maintaining this position, I cannot help you.”

  The soft, almost quivering tenor of his voice sent a chill through her. “What does that mean?”

  “It means you’ll be removed from the Rossi Foundation Board of Trustees. It means you’ll no longer have access to family funds, special grants or loan guarantees. It means you shouldn’t approach anyone on Earth for business or assistance, because no one there will work with you.”

  She sucked in a breath in dismay. “You can’t do this without Mom’s agreement.”

  “Your mother does agree. She couldn’t come here and tell you to your face, but she supports the decision. To be honest, it was her suggestion. She more than anyone recognizes the severity of the bind you’ve put our family in.”

  Kennedy’s throat worked as she stood and went to the window. It may be summer on Earth, but it was fall here on Erisen, and a thick, flannel-gray blanket of clouds lent a somber, subdued feel to the scene outside the window, and within.

  When she spoke, her voice was flat and quiet, but firm. “So be it. Please leave.”

  “Kennedy, I beg you to reconsider. Come home. We have several new projects starting up I think you’d be very interested in—”

  “I said leave.”

  Silence hung heavy in the air, like it was waiting for the final toll of the bell.

  The grimness in her father’s voice suggested it had sounded, in his mind if nowhere else. “What will you do?”

  She spun around, propelled by a surge of anger-fueled energy. “I submit that’s no longer any of your business. If you’re going to disown me, go ahead and do it proper. Now leave!”

  His shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I.”

  Kennedy burst through the door to the apartment in a furor. She didn’t apply the brakes until she loomed over Noah—he sat on the floor unboxing the new refrigeration unit—hands planted dramatically on her hips.

  “Would you still love me if I were broke?”

  He gazed up at her in outright confusion. She’d been in a funk ever since the fracas with the adiamene contract erupted, but this was yet more new, odd behavior. “Is this a trick question?”

  Her eyes narrowed in an unspoken threat. “I don’t know. Is it?”

  He groaned. “Yes. I mean no, it’s not a trick question—not for me—and yes, I would still love you if you were broke. If you’ll remember correctly, I tried to leave you—twice—because you were wealthy. Why would you ever think I’d leave you because you were poor?”

  “Right.” She nodded sharply and pivoted to stride around the living room, slinging her coat across the room on the second pass. It landed in a rumpled heap in the corner near the kitchen.

  He watched her for almost a minute before deciding he might as well dive in. Damn the torpedoes. “Was there a specific reason for the question, or was it a hypothetical?”

  “My parents just cut me off and shut me out of all family business. And funds.”

  He waited, but no more information was forthcoming amidst the frenetic pacing. “…Why?”

  “Because I won’t sign the contract amendment. Their district Assembly representative put the hard squeeze on my father.”

  He didn’t ask what the ‘hard squeeze’ entailed. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to sign the amendment; this he knew for certain.

  Instead he leaned back and rested his palms behind his head on the floor. “All right. So assuming the situation persists, you’re not the heiress to a fortune the size of the annual GNP of Aquila. But you have your own money, and it’s growing by the hour from the adiamene royalties.”

  “Not too sure those payments are going to keep coming in, either.”

  “Really? Amendment aside, you have a valid, enforceable contract with the Alliance government.”

  “It’s also not clear a valid, enforceable contract means a damn thing to the Alliance government any longer. They’re willfully violating their adiamene supply contract with the Federation on the sly, and they appear to be on the verge of deciding my contract has been amended with or without my signature. If I disagree, they’ll simply void the whole damn thing and keep manufacturing the adiamene anyway.”

  Given the events swirling around Noetica, he had little difficulty believing she was correct. He was vaguely curious if the incidents were somehow related, but they could talk about it later; now wasn’t the time for a theoretical political discussion.

  Confident he now had a rough sense of the most crucial details, he stood and went over to her, halting her progress on yet another traversal of the room with hands placed gently on her shoulders. “We’ll be fine. As paupers living in a hole in the wall, we’ll be fine. But something tells me you’ll never let it go so far.”

  She gave him a wavering smile. “But what about the company? Yes, if the Alliance stopped paying me today I have enough in savings to ensure we’ll never see a hole in the wall. But Connova is an ambitious undertaking, and I don’t know if I have enough to fund the startup costs. I’d assumed we could rely on the goodwill of suppliers and bankers friendly to the family, but it seems that’s gone now, too.”

  “You’re looking at this all wrong, honey. You’re still thinking like a ship builder, when you should be thinking like the ship designer you are. We don’t have any startup costs. Everything we need is up here.” He tapped her temple, evoking a brief grin from her.

  “Maybe, but we’ll need detailed spec sheets and schem flows for all sorts of components, and realistic price quotes, and eventually we’ll need supply and manufacturing contracts….”

  “Leave the spec sheets and component schem flows for everything that isn’t a wall or furniture to me—actually, I can handle the furniture, too. And when the time comes to negotiate contracts, you will dazzle their asses off. Companies will be throwing money at you.”

  Worry darkened her features like a mourning veil. “But I’ll be blacklisted with all the companies on Earth, and it’ll ripple out to most of the ones on Erisen and Demeter, too—”

  It was killing him, seeing her this way. She was not meant to be uncertain, timid or fearful; the Kennedy he knew exuded confidence so fiercely it might as well be a damn spiritual aura. He needed to fix this.

  “Kennedy, it is time to adjust your perspective. I’m not talking about companies on Earth, or any of the First Wave worlds for that matter. There are better companies on Romane and Aquila and Messium and Seneca and yes, even a few on Pandora. You want to show the politicians on Earth they don’t rule the galaxy? Well, let’s show them.”

  She stared at him, and he waited anxiously to see if she’d bought into his truthful but grandiose spiel.

  “I said something similar to my father, but I suppose I was also thinking too narrowly, too last-century. You’re amazing. I love you. You’ll do this with me?”

  “Hell, yes, I will.”

  34

  SENECA

  CAVARE: INTELLIGENCE DIVISION HEADQUARTERS

  * * *

  RICHARD SETTLED INTO THE CHAIR OPPOSITE Graham’s desk. “Will’s doing a debrief of Hennessey on the VISH’s performance, but the short answer is, it worked. The Alliance infiltration team reported OTS was attacking—and dying—all over the Zelones compound.”

  Graham poured two glasses of scotch and brought them back to the desk. “Did it help?”

  Richard shrugged as he accepted the glass and took a small sip. The familiar fire burning his throat was comforting, but he reminded himself to take it easy. No more drunken benders for a while.

  “They rescued Dr. Canivon, and she’s unharmed. The full mission report hasn’t been filed yet, so I can’t say how much the OTS presence helped. It did provide a distraction, albeit not enough of one to prevent Montegreu from ach
ieving her objective.”

  “We know that for certain?”

  He nodded. “Dr. Canivon completed the procedure necessary to neurally link Montegreu to her Artificial before they arrived. The remote signal the team tried to use to detonate the micro-bombs they left behind was actively blocked. Given the state they left the compound’s defenses in, the thought is the Artificial and/or Montegreu intervened.”

  Graham kicked his chair back to glower at the ceiling. “So the thorn in our side that is Olivia Montegreu is gearing up to become a festering chest wound. Excellent. I’ll have Organized Crime devote additional resources to tracking her activity. This way at least we’ll know when she makes her move. We’re going to need to come up with a more proactive strategy for handling her…but not tonight, I think.” He added to the relaxed pose by tossing his feet up on the desk. “So now that the immediate crisis has subsided, tell me about OTS.”

  “Well-funded, organized into a highly decentralized cell structure. Their public face consists of protests, usually outside government or corporate offices, during which they shout slogans about humans retaking control of their lives from synthetics. They show up at events held by companies like Genyx and Suiren to hurl pejoratives and threats.

  “Less publicly, though, they’ve pulled off multiple sophisticated hacks of corporate security systems and have wrecked two licensed private Artificials—one owned by Pacifica Aerodynamics on Earth and one by Serana Genomics on New Columbia. They bombed the Transbank headquarters on Demeter, but the building’s security measures protected the Artificial inside from damage. They haven’t broken military security yet, but not for lack of trying. And the best part—they’ve started cells on twenty-three colonies and are currently adding a new colony on average every three weeks.”

  “Damn. Where’s the money coming from?”

  Richard grimaced. “That is the question. There’s no trail of fund transfers—as in zero—so it must be internal.”