Metak Fatigue Part 5

She stood, walked across the room, and stared out the window at Roads'

fifth-floor view. "How far can we trust Keith Morrow?" she asked. "Could he be involved in this somehow?"

He shrugged. She alone knew the complete history of Roads' ambivalent relations.h.i.+p with the Head, and her confidence was strict. "I don't think so."

'But you're not sure." She turned. "He could be feeding us false information, trying to put us off the trail." "Maybe." "What do you suggest, then? Do we cancel Blindeye? I mean, if the Mole is as invulnerable as he seems "He can't be." "- then we'll be p.i.s.sing into the wind." She came back to the desk.

"Phil, we don't have time to play games. " "I'm sorry, Margaret. I really don't know. A few thoughts here and there, but nothing coherent. Really."

She sighed again and sat down. "So. Do we go ahead, or not?" "We go ahead, I guess. We might as well." "Tomorrow night?"

He smiled. "To beat the deadline, right?" She didn't smile back. "If we don't catch the Mole, then either the MSA or the Reunited States Military in there it's just ill take the case from us. And fro 'Vep to dismantling RSD altogether." W." It was a possibility he tried not to contern W,@ out of a basic not out Of conservatism, but ct for the military mind. He and the rest of the cause in the past- ,had seen the damage it could admit that the idea in principle was 1e had to i.. Rea.s.similation. would result in the closure of ,:RSD or the MSA.

The city wouldn't need a e force and a police force. Either both would be mated into one unit,' or one would become a garrison of the RUSAMC and therefore no longer current situation - with the MSA always the ional favourite of the people, and RSD struggling Ive a string of major crimes - didn't took good at r RSD. But no firm plans had been made, and with and a couple of quick arrests at the right time - Situation could easily change. How ready are we?" Roads asked. 'We can do it.

The Mayor has given us his blessing, the complete set of access codes for every city rtment. With DeKurzak's support, we can start 11mg; data at any time. [email protected]'@@-"He will support us?" @'@."'@"Yes. He agrees that it's the only decisive course of on left open to us." [email protected] "Good. He's not a fool, then." '[email protected] "He s houldn't be. He comes highly recommended." "By whom. -By the Mayor himself.

And the head of the MSA. I h feel' g he's being groomed for promotion to the e in per ran s; maybe even Councillor, one day."

oa s folded his hands across his lap. The position of 1"haison officer between the MSA, RSD and the 82RUSAMC was one of tremendous responsibility; it certainly wouldn't be handed to someone who hadn't proved to be capable elsewhere. DeKurzak seemed a little wet under the collar to Roads, but perhaps he would improve with time, given the chance.

Roads forced himself to concentrate on the topic at hand. "I suggest we wait to see what the Mole does tonight, then start Blindeye first thing tomorrow morning. That gives us over half a day to get everything organised down at KCU." "That should be long enough." She scratched her head. "But it'll be messy." "You're telling me." Roads was almost daunted by the thought: shutting down the entire city's data net- work, transferring the information to the main banks of Kennedy City University, and erasing everything else would bring administration to a standstill - all to catch one thief. It would be worth it, though, if it worked.

Chappel stood. "Get some sleep, Phil. You look like you need it." "So everyone keeps telling me." "I'll put Jamieson on in your place. Take the night off."

She winked knowingly. "Barney, too, if you like.- He groaned. "It's nothing like that, Margaret." "I know, but I can still hope for you. " "Don't. I'm not ... I don't know. I'm getting old, in case you hadn't noticed." "Actually, just to look at you, I wouldn't." She smiled. "You haven't told her?" "No." He studied his hands for a moment. His feelings for Barney were uncertain at the best of times, and his past didn't make it any easier. "I'm not sure I'm going to. But thanks for the break anyway, Margaret." "That's okay. You've earned it."

She patted him on the cheek and left. He lingered for

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er and to gather nutes to shut down the comput 11 of files, then did likewise.

1eets were getting dark. At some point in the on, Roads seemed to have lost an hour or two. 't remember having lunch. Or breakfast. evening was warm and the walk pleasant; the ache ured leg had vanished entirely. He stopped to buy &R vendor and ate it on a park takeaway from an R was extensively halfway home. The inner city ty plans, but & in accordance with the original [email protected] rks and nature strips had grown somewhat wild iihe years. He remembered a time, not long ago, ground to kill a they had been razed to the oning rat population. The infestation had subsided city and reappeared not long after in the farms. he hot dog was made from soya extracts and entifiable vegetable matterg but it tasted like meat.

st as good as the ones before the War, back when y had seemed to symbolise everything the United given the city's limited es had stood for. All in all, urces, his diet was surprisingly varied. What uldn't be grown could be adequately imitated or His only regret was a shortage of nitural es, and a deep boredom of all the places he had ten many, many times before.

He longed to go for a liday, just to eat somewhere new. When he had finished, he picked up his briefcase and ved on, feeiing as though his body weighed a tonne.

he walked away from the park, he felt eyes watching . without breaking stride, he glanced over his oulder. things.

othing. He was )ust imagining the first floor of an e lived in a side street, on terwise empty apartment building. The complex had 6Cbeen modelled on the stone architecture of the [email protected] twentieth century, with no yard and a sheer, box-like appearance. He had once had fellow tenants, but they had moved away over the years and RSD had seen fit to take the other rooms on his behalf. He referred solitude and privacy to noisy neighbours. The Ppeople in the buildings to either side were close enough.

As he neared the main entrance, it opened an a uniformed RSD officer appeared. "Hi, Charlie." Charlie Farquahar was Roads' offi a]

4 caretaker, a.s.signed to him since the appearance of the Mole. Wispy white hair and wide, moist eyes crowned a scrawny body racked by age, overdue for retirement by almost twenty years. One of the few members of Kennedy's original security force to have survived the Dissolution, he dozed by day in an empty ground floor room, with one ear constantly alert for intruders; after nightfall he watched vigilantly from the doorway. If he minded the dull post, he never said; he rarely spoke in sentences longer than three words. "Phil.,, "Any problems?" "Not today." Charlie shrugged. Not ever, the gesture economically conveyed.

Roads patted him on the shoulder as he pa.s.sed. "Keep up the good work."

"Always. Roads went up the stairs and unlocked the door to his rooms. His home environment was as comfortable as he could bear, but not overly so. His main extravagance was a small collection of watercolours by the two or three Kennedy-born artists that he considered talented. The unframed canvases, mostly of sweeping landscapes, lent the apartment a modic.u.m of warmth; without them, it would have looked cold and heartless.

86.

pped in slowly, scanning the lounge. Putting his d briefcase on a chair, he went through the r routine of checking each room, one after the looking closely at everything.

he found it: a kitchen stool stood out of place in ]way. It hadn't been there when Roads had left rning. He put it back where it was supposed to out fuss, resigned to this sort of thing happening .now and again. mysterious break-ins had begun shortly before le's first appearance, and Roads didn't doubt that me person was behind them, The taunting visits :occurred when the apartment was empty, and no nt of pa.s.sive surveillance had revealed how the fgained entrance. Nothing was ever taken, but thing was always moved, and gradually Roads had d reporting the intrusions. didn't have the heart to tell Charlie that his ncc was fruitless. This was something he kept from altogether. It was personal, between the Mole and As long as nothing was taken or damaged, Roads prepared to tolerate the occasional intrusion. It was believed - simply the Moles way of saying that he d been here, a reminder that there was nothing ing him coming back any time he wanted. ",,,,He made himself a cup of coffee and went into the A message from Morrow, asking him to call, ited attention on his home terminal's screen. Before answered it, he sent a message to Barney telling her to bother going to work that night, unless she ted to. There was no response; he a.s.sumed she was sleeping. Then he tried Roger Wiggs, keen to swap information n the latest cases. The duty operator at RSD told him at the homicide officer was on duty and unavailable,still busy at the scene of the Yhoman a.s.sa.s.sination. Roads hung up and frowned. Still? It wasn't usual for Wiggs to remain behind after forensics had finished, which they should have by now. He made a mental note to try again in the morning.

Finally, he dialled Morrow's unlisted number. The Head appeared on the screen of his computer in full colour, looking much the same as he had earlier that day. "We meet again, Phil." "Yes." It seemed much longer than mere hours since their conversation in the bar. "I a.s.sume Raoul has kept you informed?"

"Naturally. As an observer, few are better qualified than he." "Should I know him?" "No. His, ah, field of expertise was not the same s yours."

Roads nodded, remembering his first sight of Raoul in the darkened cellar. The mutual recognition had been instantaneous - not of who they were, but of what they had once been. He'd hoped - and feared at the same time - that they might have had more in common.

Morrow's voice intruded upon his reverie. "I have some information for you."

"Go on." "Raoul left Old North Street two hours ago to help me process the data he collected. It took us longer than we thought to check the list of hardware, but we made it in the end." "And?" "We found a discrepancy."

Morrow's face s.h.i.+fted aside to make room for a text-box, in which appeared a single line of data: EPA44210:314,315,318.

88.

ds. "Explain, numbers made little sense to Roa hers for three missing items, and one part hal num r. 15 what?" at I can't tell you, I'm afraid, although I can 'be them. Each EPA44210 is spherical, three centi- 'in diameter, made of a silver metal, and weighs undred grams. The serial numbers are physically d, and cannot be removed." ds scrawled the digits on a sheet of sc.r.a.p paper.

can't you tell me what they are, Keith?" rrow winked. "Because I can't, my boy. You'll to find that out for yourself." hanks a lot." Roads yawned involuntarily. "Is anything else you wanted to tell me?"

0. Nothing that can't wait." G d. Then I'll speak to you later." oo leep tight." The Head vanished from the screen. oads rubbed his eyes and tried to think. His in- cts nagged at him, trying to tell him something, but '(ouldn't force it through the exhaustion.

e information Morrow had given him stared at th -five minutes before giving up. The numbers meant hing to him. [email protected] loaded the fiche containing the new data gained Morrow. Cross-referencing each break-in with e he had already been aware of - involving 'official' pools rather than Keith Morrow's - he arrived at a prehensive calendar of the previous forty-odd days. On every night, the Mole had plucked information m various places in the city, apparently at random.

spitals, community services, the MSA and RSD itself d been raided, plus the establishments that Morrow d not identified. The stolen data concerned diseaseoutbreaks, population figures, defensive capabilities, staff movements, production estimates, policy decisions, financial flows, and so on.

There was no obvious link from one night to the next, almost as though the Mole bad been aiming for a random overview of the city's combined datapool, and the Moles drunkard walk became even more confusing when Morrow's data was added to the list. The Blindeye strategy gained credence the more Roads thought about it: the Mole's path was unpredictable, so RSD had to force him to a specific location where they could be waiting for him.

If it worked, they would have him. But, if it didn't, the Mole would have tbem: the city's entire datapool anything he wanted - at his fingertips.

But what, Roads asked himself, sensing he was getting close at last, did the Mole want?

Much of the stolen information was sensitive, but much wasn't. One night, the Mole gained access to confidential records that listed every piece of equipment owned by the Military Service Authority; the next, he contented himself with the relatively petty list of inventories from one of Morrow's secret hideaways.

It made no sense. Why would the Mole bother with small-scale stocktakes, unless ... ?

Roads glanced higher up the list. The Mole had looked at the city's warehouses early, before checking the MSA and RSD stockpiles. At about the same time, he had lifted the first 'unofficial' inventory. A fortnight later, he had gained access to the records for the Old North,Street residence.

From that point onward, no other small-scale inventory had been stolen.

Roads thumped the desk. He had it. The Mole had been looking for something specific among all the other something concrete. Then, as soon as he had d it, he had stopped looking.

Three weeks later, he into Old North Street and took what he wanted ut even a cursory glance at its data system. t what, then, had he taken? ads' excitement faded rapidly in the face of essive tiredness. Five weeks of night s.h.i.+ft were taking their toll. As he took out his contact lenses stumbled to bed, he promised himself that he would more closely at his discovery in the morning, if he d find the time among the preparations for Blindeye. had yet to work out why the Mole had waited three ks before taking what he wanted from Old North et. If he had needed it so badly, why the delay? One question turned constantly through his mind as tried to sleep. It was a question he feared he would ver be able to answer, let alone in the few short days maining to him - but he knew instinctively that the 'cess of his investigation hinged upon doing just that. When he finally succ.u.mbed, he dreamed that a large an dressed in an overcoat and hat had given him an A442 10 - and it was nothing at all.

CAINTERLUDE.

11AS p.m.

The night cooled rapidly. High above the str Ieet, among the wires and chimneys of the city, a subtle wind blew. it crept through clothing without being strong; it robbed warmth despite a lack of ice.

He drew his overcoat closer about him and thought of heat, waves of heat flowing from the core of his body. A long and uncomfortable night stretched ahead of him. The ledge upon which he lay was narrow and exposed to the wind, but also the only one which granted him an un.o.bstructed view of the house below. He would be forced to rely upon abilities he had not exercised for many years to remain alert.

He had been designed neither to sleep nor to dream, and although experience had taught him that he needed both to function at optimal efficiency, he could still manage stretches of up to seventy-two hours without either. Sometimes he had micro-dreams - vivid, disturbing hallucinations that encroached upon his waking life until he could no longer function at all. But that only happened under extreme stress. At times like the present, when all he had to do was wait, a halfway state was sufficient: neither asleep nor awake: ready to act if anything changed below, but not wasting energy.

Unblinking, he watched. His pulse slowed; his fingertips began to tingle.

Within minutes he was no

92.

and he had entered a state not dissimilar to 4., thoughts stirred, sluggishly, one name recurred M frequency: PoL* the moustached man he had seen entering the next door to his; the same man who had chas ed 1 40# his return three hours later; the man he 11 N MM to be a police officer, based on a news N' had glimpsed in a market some days ago; the oT;. had followed in turn from RSD HQ, and for he now waited, again. P;-* the name by which the moustached man had to himself.

4L ...

1'. could not return home. The area had been with police the last time he had tried. Had he s- recognised at last, after all the years of Sanctuary?

NMI risk returning until he knew for sure that he Mt. The witch-hunts of his distant memories were a but accurate reminder of what would happen if he Co. wind grew stronger as the night deepened. mv came and the lights went out.

This did not si+ him; he could see just as well in infra-red as he r, in other spectra. If anything, it relieved an ever- @;Mo - concern. Had anyone looked up from one of the few positions from which he could be seen, prior to they would have caught a peculiar sight. What would not have seen lay beneath his disguise, of -, and was far more disturbing. But that he could .%Op. been seen at all made him restless; after so long . t, it felt strange to be moving of his own will out in si;, open again.

The moon, half full, rode silently across the field of Mm#-'.He waited. At some point during his timeless meditation, a timber wolf paced the street below. Its fur shone in the moonlight; its bearing was proud and n.o.ble. Unaware that it was being watched, it stalked silently back and forth along the opposite pavement like a restless spirit, a pa.s.sing visitor to the world of flesh.

The wolf disappeared before dawn, leaving him to his lonely vigil. Sooner or later, he knew, Roads would emerge, and only then would he have to decide what to do.

CHAPTER SIX.

16 September, S:4S a.m.

woke before dawn feeling as though a truck had If - him during the night.

Without quite getting up, ft Mot 1IF-To, for his coat and found a cigarette.

The Was acrid and thick, but had the required effect I ;fk- circadian rhythms: the various parts of his mind $141 act together and allowed him to be bim again.

he waited until the sun had risen before climbing of bed. The room was stuffy and stale, and the -lr;i light that ventured through the blinds did little to hII41 it. He took a shower, only to be irritated by the 44 pounding his shoulders. Although pleasantly hot, 1: wrong. Not for the first time, he wished for sonics a thorough dermal scrub. But he was stuck on the e of the Dissolution in a shabby remake of the 9 1 century. Only a few anachronisms remained to him of what had once been. Anachronisms like Keith Morrow. And hot dogs. And He'd been working a seven-day week for so TM-ti.-Ihe'd quite forgotten that weekends had ever @e shaved, dressed in a casual jumpsuit and made M.. Taking a cup of coffee with him, he suc- to a nagging sense of duty and checked theThere were two messages waiting. One was from Barney, asking him to call. He tried her home, but she didn't answer. The other was a short, encrypted file from Chappel. He opened it and scanned its contents.

The Mole had struck again during the night. Shortly before one, the thief had availed himself of data from the Kennedy Prototype Fusion Reactor; he now knew the design tolerances of the facility, plus a few relatively irrelevant details concerning the facility's chief administrators. Officer Jamieson's preliminary report had already been filed: no new evidence and no eyewitness accounts.

The latter alone was noteworthy. KPFR was staffed twenty-four hours a day by in excess of three hundred people. Quite apart from an extensive array of anti- intrusion devices - including pressure-sensitive pads in major hallways and a video camera network that was constantly monitored - the open s.p.a.ces themselves must have been difficult to navigate without being seen.

Difficult, but obviously not impossible. Not one alarm had been triggered, and no-one had seen the Mole enter or leave. That the Mole had actually entered the grounds, and not accessed the data from elsewhere, was beyond doubt; the address the stolen data had been route to lay wit in t e main complex building.

Roads could see DeKurzak's point: it smacked of collusion somewhere along the security chain. The possibility could hardly be ignored that someone had prepared the thief's path by deactivating certain alarms or turning off cameras at prearranged times, or by erasing information after the fact. But, if such collusion existed, who was the Mole's silent partner? Or partners: the KPFR break-in was just one of many, and the security of each target must have been compromised. For such a feat to be possible, the Mole had to be part of a ma.s.sive conspiracy.

to what end? What would such a large organisapossibly hope to gain from such activities? And how it managed to keep its existence a secret for so [email protected] U; shook his head. The MSA liaison officer was to him. Before long, he told himself, he'd be in the mythical Old Guard as well.

puter winked urgently to announce incoming ,His corn Q - o.. He toggled for video and took the call.

It was Barney. In the background, he made out the MM, buzz and bustle of HQ. "Morning, boss." She waved cheerily. "Deep peace of running wave, and all that." .Say what?" "Philistine. How's the leg?" He shrugged. It had healed cleanly during the night. V live." "Good. The Mantis wants you in here as soon as !,* If;;, " "Bully for her. Tell her I died peacefully in my sleep." "Come on, Phil." She chided him with a motherly "What else have you got to do?"

She had him there. He sighed, resigning himself to the FR_. "Anything I should prepare myself for?" "Ah, let's see." She skimmed through the files on her desk. "You heard about last night?" "Yes. Margaret sent me Jamieson's report."

"Okay ... How about Blindeye?" "Yes again, but fill me in anyway." "Well, the Mantis gave the word before I got here.

7 We're going ahead. She's down at Data Processing supervising the transfer with a horde of Mayoralty n.o.bs peering over her shoulder. You'll be glad to miss that, I'm sure. David Goss is getting things ready at the uni, at least as far as the security side of it goes. It looks like they've made you the night watchman."

97"I thought they might." That meant he would have to find time for a work-out sometime during the day; a t session of target practice wouldn't go astray either. I wasn't a matter of toning up, but a mental discipline he wanted to perform. If Blindeye worked, he would come face to face with his dark half within twenty-four hours. "What about DeKurzak, Barney? Has he wandered in yet? " "I haven't seen him, but Margaret told me to tell you that he'll be out of your hair for the day. Seems he's right into info management and all that s.h.i.+t, so he's down with her in DP. " "Any idea how he went at the Yhoman site?" "No, but Roger's been in a foul mood all morning." "That's a bad sign. I guess they didn't find anything, then." "Safe bet." "I'll try to catch up with him later, if I get the time." Roads scratched the back of his neck and yawned. "What else should I know?" ::Just one little thing." She smiled coyly.

And this is ... ?" "The States rep, Captain Martin O'Dell, has arrived." He groaned. "Oh great." "No, Phil. He's okay. I think you'll like him, if you give him half a chance. Not what I was expecting at all." "What does that mean?" "No horns, pointed tail, cloven hoofs, or the like. He looks just like everyone around here, except . . ." She leaned close to the screen, whispered conspiratorially: "Boy, is he cute!"

He couldn't help it; he laughed. She leaned back In her chair and adopted a self-satisfied expression. "There, Phil. That didn't hurt, did it?"

much, I'll admit. Are you really trying to make Maybe I am, maybe I'm not." She winked. "But he W, nonetheless." "That does it. I'll be there in five minutes. Someone to warn him of the terrible danger he's in." She waved. "Mission accomplished. See you soon." -He cut the connection with a grin and went to get dressed.