Metak Fatigue Part 7

ed the cynic in him, Not everything Roads saw arous I children crossed though. At one point, a group of schoo their path, forcing them off the sidewalk and onto the armed past, with road. As the gaggle of tiny bodies sw their teacher struggling to keep them under control, one young boy pulled a face at Roads. He waved back, and was rewarded with a cheeky grin. Instead of being annoyed, he smiled. It was just what he had needed.

A growing lack of resources was bad enough.Worse still was the fact that so many people like Barney, who had lost parents during the Dissolution, were now losing their children to another cause- teenage crime was on the rise, and youth suicide had tripled in the last ten years - the last a fact carefully glossed over by isolationist statisticians. Kennedy's second generation of citizens was losing the will that had kept the city alive for so long - and without that will, there was nothing left to fight for.

If all went well, though, by the time these children were teenagers they would be completely free of the prison that had confined their parents. No matter how bad the present looked - no matter that the children wore ill-fitting clothes and had to learn from books rather than the more sophisticated aids taken for granted in their grandparents' day - at least there was still hope for the future.

When the children had become just an echo of laughter far behind them, Roads and O'Dell resumed their conversation. In the presence of their bodyguard neither man had raised the matter of the mortuary records, although Roads would have liked to, if only to clear the air. He hated hiding, hated being forced to 117deny reality. The fact that someon .e might have discovered the truth came almost as a relief.

And therein lay the real reason for sharing target practice with O'Dell: not so much to learn about th im. RUSA, but to find out how much they knew about h e "By concentrating the city's data in one location," Roads explained as they walked, "we hope to force the Mole to come to us, rather than the other way around. That's the essence of Blindeye." "Logical enough," O'Dell replied, "but will he come? "

"If he wants to steal data, he will." Roads pointed in the direction of LaMont Hospital, a squat, white building to their right. "Say, for instance, he targets medical records tonight. He'll go through his usual routine of sneaking in and trying to lift data, except that this time he'll face an automatic message telling him that all the records have been transferred to the KCU library. There's no way he'll be able to take anything himself, because there'll be nothing to take and the land-lines to KCU will be down. So he'll come." "Knowing it's a trap? He's not a fool." "No, but we're hoping he'll try anyway. It's a challenge, if you like." "So, he comes to KCU, sneaks in, and ... ?" "I'll be hidden inside, waiting for the word. We've put everything we've got into this, Martin, every surveillance system we can get our hands on. Should he still slip by, I'll be there for when the data-retrieval system starts operating." "Just you?" "Just me. And three dozen officers elsewhere on campus, keeping a low profile unless I need help. We don't want to scare him away too soon." "Obviously not."

US.

They reached the northern edge of the grounds of the niversity in good time.

An iron fence separated KCU the rest of the city, with entrance gained by a umber of gates that would be locked after nightfall.

e library, where the trap waited to be sprung, was a Mock-Victorian edifice three storeys high in the very heart of the picturesque grounds. From that point, it Iwas almost possible to imagine that Kennedy Polis and the rest of the outside world didn't exist.

Roads glanced once over his shoulder, sensing again that he was being watched.

Then he chided himself for being foolish. Of course he was being watched; the area was full of RSD officers - although apart from a slight increase in pedestrian traffic there was little indication of the industry taking place within the university's grounds. The students had been given an unexpected holiday while the library's facilities were being used. "It's a long-shot," O'Dell drawled, "relying heavily on the a.s.sumption that the Mole won't know you're in there."

"I know." Roads mentally added the possibility that the Mole might not move on an official datapool at all, in which case the entire procedure would have to be repeated the following night. "But it's our only shot."

A pa.s.sing plain-clothes security guard checked Roads' ID and waved them on.

They strolled toward the library. "What do you plan to do, once you've got him?" "Whatever it takes." Roads grimaced. "I don't want to kill him, but I will if I have to."

O'Dell seemed surprised by his reluctance. "I wouldn't hesitate, in your shoes. After all, this guy has made a mockery of your security forces. He deserves everything he gets." "Maybe, but I don't like killing. There are better ways.""And it'd feel strange, I guess, aiming for yourself." The entrance to the library loomed before them, at the summit of a flight of wide, stone steps.

They stopped there, on the threshold, where moss had attacked the composite protecting the stone and turned it a mottled green. "But if you have to,"

O'Dell added, "you'll get him, I'm sure. I have no doubts that you're the best man for the job." "Despite our differences?" "Because of them." O'Dell leaned close. "Don't tell anyone I admitted this, but it's possible that biomodification migbt be useful in some [email protected] in the right hands.

The Mole, however, is a prime example of its misuse. I'll be glad to see him fall." "So you think he's biornodified?" "I do now, yes. Something left over from the old times. There's no way an ordinary man could do what he does."

Roads was glad that O'Dell had not followed DeKurzak's line of reasoning. Even inside jobs left evidence of some kind. "What about the a.s.sa.s.sin?" "It'll be interesting to see what happens after tonight. If the Mole is captured and the murders cease, then that'll solve all of your problems in one hit." "You think the Mole and the a.s.sa.s.sin are one and the same?" "Not as strongly as your man DeKurzak - but it's possible." O'Dell shrugged. "Only time will tell, won't it? "

Roads smiled to himself. "Time, or an awful amount of luck."

Word spread quickly of their arrival. David Goss, the RSD officer in charge of security, came down from the roof to welcome them in person. A giant with bulging s though he scles and close-cropped hair, he looked a ight have been more at home in the military. Looks, of the in his case deceptive. He was one ever, were st Placid, patient men that Roads had ever met. His aming smile was more than a match for O'Dell's. Goss took them on a grand tour of the library, inting out the additional surveillance systems installed at afternoon. Invisible laser trip-wires laced the orridors, floors had been laid with pressure-sensitive ats, every window and door had its own deadman itch, and there wasn't an inch of floors.p.a.ce that a "camera couldn't see. Infra-red detectors reacted to their ,.body-heat, beeping as they pa.s.sed. "Better hope there aren't any mice,"

commented O'Dell. "Everything is keyed to react to human stimuli," said Goss.

"if the heat-signature is wrong or the ma.s.s too light, then the alarms won't ring." He stooped to run his hand along the floor. "And the trip-wires come no closer than ten centimetres to the ground. We shouldn't have too many false alarms."

The library's northern wall nestled against an administration complex, so the roof had been b.o.o.bytrapped as well, along with a wrought-iron skylight that opened onto the main reading room where the datastorage facilities had been a.s.sembled. Every conceivable entrance had been covered, including the air-vents. "You, Phil, will be in here." Goss opened a door on the first floor as they pa.s.sed it, revealing a white-tiled room lined with cubicles- the ladies' toilets.. An array of screens and monitors had been erected in one corner, at which technicians fussed and bothered.

Roads smiled. Incongruous though it seemed, it made admirable sense- close enough to the reading room to give him quick access, but not so close as to risk being 121stumbled across by accident. Even if the Mole suspected that Roads would be waiting for him, this was the last place he would look.

Roads glanced at O'Dell, who was also smiling. "Yes?" "I was just wondering what would happen if the Mole was a woman with a weak bladder."

Goss chuckled. "Then she'd get one h.e.l.l of a surprise, that's for sure. Not that she'd make it this far." "Right."

The tour concluded in the main reading room. The chamber was enormous, lined with shelves crammed with antique books. There were only two entrances to the room, one being the door through which they had come, the other high above.

The marble ceiling was domed and rococo, terminating in the skylight.

The room had been chosen for its s.p.a.ciousness, and its ready access to the landlines of the library. A score of long, leather-bound desks had been pushed aside to make way for the data-storage tanks in the centre of the room. Each tank was two and half metres high and as wide as two people, connected by thick fibre-optic cables to a central cl.u.s.ter of terminals. The whole array seemed sorely out of place in the stately chamber. It looked as though the university was conducting a refrigerator sale.

That private thought kept Roads amused until he spotted a familiar figure among the technicians.

DeKurzak straightened and dusted his hands. When he caught sight of Roads and O'Dell, he waved them over with a weary smile.

Goss made it halfway through introductions before Roads cut him short. "That's okay, David. We all know each other." "We sure do." Roads was surprised to hear a slight disapproving tone enter O'Dell's normally cheerful 122.

ice, and wondered what could have provoked such a ction. Inter-departmental politics aside, DeKurzak d O'Dell should have had little ground on which to isagree. "Everything's ready," DeKurzak said, apparently aware of O'Dell's snub. "You're looking at the total atapool of Kennedy Polis." "Everything?" asked O'Dell. "You name it," affirmed Goss, "and it's here in this room. Right down to my shoe-size." I They moved closer to study the screen of the nearest ,terininal. As they did so, DeKurzak made certain he was between them and the keyboard - s.h.i.+elding the datapool like an over-protective parent - although the screen displayed nothing but a list of nondescript menus.

"When I arrived," O'Dell said, "I brought a data fiche containing historical records and statistics. Can I a.s.sume that this information is here as well?"

DeKurzak nodded. "It is. The original card is under lock and key at RSD headquarters." "Good. Some of that information is sensitive, even today. I wouldn't like it to fall into the wrong hands." "It won't." DeKurzak killed the display and turned to the others. "The city shuts down in half an hour, gentlemen. From that point on, it's up to us to keep it safe."

Goss grinned eagerly. "The sooner the better. My side of things will be ready by then."

Roads glanced at his watch. "The Mole has never made a move before eleven o'clock -" "Thatwe know of," said DeKurzak. "Right, so I'll want to be in and settled by nine, just to be sure. Until then, I'd like to cover the building a couple of times, to get to know the layout." "Sounds fair," Goss said. "I can give you one of the team, if you like.""No, that's okay. A floor plan will be fine." "Can do. I'll get it for you on the way out." Goss stepped away from the terminal to demonstrate the security provisions elsewhere in the room.

Before Roads could follow, DeKurzak motioned him aside. "The Mayor wants to talk to you, Phil, when you're free," said the MSA officer. "About anything in particular?" Roads fought to contain his reluctance. Mayor Packard was well-liked but, in Roads' opinion, something of an imbecile. In his five-year reign, they had spoken face-to-face three times and on each occasion exchanged nothing of any importance. "About tonight, of course." DeKurzak's expression became mildly reproachful. "I think he'd appreciate some rea.s.surance concerning the outcome of this venture." "As would I."

"That's not what he wants to hear." DeKurzak shook his head. "There are people in the Mayoralty who question the wisdom of Operation Blindeye, and the Mayor is naturally concerned. It would be best not to joke about the risk you're taking on our behalf."

Roads met DeKurzak's stare, and held it. The inference was obvious: "you", not "we". If Blindeye failed, then a scapegoat would be required, and he'd obviously been nominated in absentia to fill that position. "Fair enough, I guess," he said, trying to sound casual. "I'll call him when I can." "Thank you." DeKurzak went to move away, but Roads grabbed his arm.

"Wait. You said some people disagree with what we're doing." The liaison officer nodded. "What about you, DeKurzak? Do you think we're doing the right thing?"

11A.

"if rd thought of anything [email protected] I would have tabled Iit by now." DeKurzak's eyes hardened. "I'd tell you to propriate." ,y,our face if'I thought your actions inap. ,would you?" "Believe me, Phil." DeKurzak pulled his arm free.

"There's much more at stake here than your feelings." The liaison officer went back to attending the datapool, and Roads turned to rejoin the others. Goss ing O'Dell the security surrounding the main was show console. "Lasers, infra-red detectors, pressure mats, you name it," said the big officer. "There's a dozen of each in this room alone. Not even Mister Mouse could get within three metres of this desk without letting half the city know."

Roads, thinking of the video Keith Morrow had given him, pursed his lips and said nothing.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

10.3S p.m.

Roads glanced at his watch and resisted the urge to light a cigarette. The toilets were pitch-dark, apart from the inconstant glow of the monitors. The stench of disinfectant had become overpowering in the absence of other sensory input.

He had been in the toilet for an hour and a half. The five. screens on the desk before him flickered between various views of the library. Besides a couple of inevitable false alarms, the night had been perfectly quiet. At his request, a separate terminal had been installed so he could work to pa.s.s the time, but that had paled quickly. There was nothing to do but wait.

After his guided tour with O'Dell, he had scoured the library from roof to bas.e.m.e.nt, searching for any entrance that might have been overlooked. It had taken him two hours to concede that there was very little Goss had missed; even the chimneys had trip-wires installed. The exercise had proved worthwhile, however. By the time he had finished, he had known the building as thoroughly as he knew his own bedroom, and could have found his way around it with his eyes closed if he'd had to.

Throughout the evening's preparations, however, he'd found it hard to shake the feeling that he was being Ilowed, especially when he went for a nerve-soothing n. Although Goss' team had secured the area for the ht, the grounds were alive with subtle movements.

e supposed that a few guards still patrolled the paths d lawns along which he ran. Nothing else explained e gut-level certainty that he was being watched again. Was odd, though, that no-one halted him to ask for He returned to the library feeling relatively refreshed nd invigorated. A warm-down and a shower later, he s ready to ring the Mayor. The conversation went exactly as he had antic.i.p.ated Mayor Packard was in his early fifties, with the erfect mix of grey-haired respectability and charismatic ood looks to guarantee a majority vote from the itizens of Kennedy Polis. City politics mirrored that of twentieth-century America in miniature. two major parties competed for both the Mayoralty and seats on the Council by drawing popular candidates from within ,their own ranks and pitting them against each other for preselection every four years. The conservatives advocated a need for pacifism, an egalitarian social system and complete isolation from the outside world, whereas the other - now synonymous with the Rea.s.similationists wanted to reopen the city to the outside world. In the twenty-nine years since the abdication of the Dissolution Mayor, who had ruled as a near dictator until sickness forced him to retire, every election had been won on an isolationist ticket. Mayor Packard, formerly head of the MSA, hadn't changed the formula even slightly when he had been re-elected the previous year - which only made his sudden reversal in the face of the RUSA envoy even more remarkable. Speculation had been rife of secret back-room deals, or threats, since the envoy's arrival; none, of course, had been confirmedby either the Mayor or his staff, and Roads preferred to believe that, for once, commonsense had reigned.

Once the formalities had been dispensed with, he a.s.sured Mayor Packard that he was confident of a successful conclusion to the evening, although that outcome might not be known until the early hours of the morning. Packard, in response, asked to be kept informed, no matter what the hour. He went on to reaffirm the serious situation in which the city found itself, and to reiterate the necessity that it present a Cclean bill of health' for Rea.s.similation. "Let's show those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, eh, Roads? Let's show them we know how to defend our city."

Roads wasn't sure exactly what to make of that comment, but replied: "Of course, sit." "We do know how to, don't we? I'd hate to think we didn't." A frown disturbed the perfect sweep of Packard's brow, albeit briefly. "If this plan of yours is successful, you can expect to receive a commendation."

Roads resisted the impulse to ask what he could expect if it failed. Instead, he apologised for having to cut the conversation short. Packard wished him luck on behalf of the rest of the city and broke the connection.

He'd had time for one last briefing with Goss, and then it was into the toilet to wait for the Mole. An hour and a half later and he was still wondering who Packard had meant by 'those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds'.

Suddenly, a familiar voice whispered in his ear via a tiny earplug, startling him from his reverie: "Howdy, boss." "Hi, Barney." He glanced by reflex at his watch; it still said 10.35. "You're late." "I was busy elsewhere. And, besides, my s.h.i.+ft doesn't officially start for an hour yet." "What happened to the fanatical devotion to duty?"

_"Out the window, I'm afraid. When a handsome k captain asks you out, nothing gets in the way." "Oh so that's where you've been." He winced, 1jWt the camera in the toilet wouldn't pick up his 0114*4.(0) "And did you have a good night?" "Simply ... fabulous." Barney's imitation of her q!L;i Sh.e.l.ley, was precise. No doubt there would be interesting conversation between the two women the InylA. I, day. Roads was positive he didn't want to it. "Some people will do almost anything to make me he said, hoping he had ins erted the correct Of humour in his voice. "What's there to be jealous of? He's a married man, I'm so much older than him." "From the tone of your voice, I'd say that neither K be much of an obstacle, given'the chance."

I "What's the matter, Phil?" She chuckled. "You're not jealous, are you?" "Not at all. But this is hardly the time or place to discuss your s.e.x life. Think of your reputation, for G.o.d's sake." "What s.e.x life? Besides, this is a private line." "Lucky." "By the way, DeKurzak asked me to remind you to use subvocals from now on." "Is he still there?" "Yes. So are David and Martin ... Roger couldn't make it, unfortunately, so he misses out on all the perks we have up here, courtesy of the KCU staff room."

"Thanks." The makes.h.i.+ft command centre was in the heart of the building adjacent to the library, on the first floor. Roads glanced disparagingly at the gloomy confines of the ladies' toilets, and belatedly remembered the throat-mike. "Thanks a lot," he subvocalised.

199"Oooh, you've gone all husky.- She panted a throaty farewell. "I'll be watching you, remember." "How could I forget? Call me when you can." "Will do."

He settled back into the chair and closed his eyes. He wondered why he was so bothered by the thought of Barney having dinner with O'Dell. She and Roads were close, yes, and anyone intruding upon that closeness could be considered a threat - but he had no right to expect her not to see other men. He was her superior officer, for Christ's sake, not her lover, and there was the age difference to take into account as well.

But more than rank kept them apart; he was honest enough with himself to admit that. It was history - both his and the city's. A history they had never discussed completely.

If only her father had lived ... Casting the thought aside, he got to his feet and paced the length of the cubicles.

What had Packard said? "Let's show those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds we know how to defend our city." Or something to that effect. An interesting choice of words, Roads thought. "Defence" usually referred to something from the outside; "b.a.s.t.a.r.ds"

implied plurality. If the Mayor had meant the Mole, as was suggested by the context, then he would have said "b.a.s.t.a.r.d", singular. But it would have been just as strange to refer to the a.s.sa.s.sin and possible accomplices instead, because the killer was doing exactly what Packard suggested: defending Kennedy from a perceived invasion.

Or was Mayor Packard suggesting that the Mole was an agent for another body altogether? It could have been nothing more than a slip of the tongue, but it was worth pursuing. The only external body that Roads knew of was the RUSA itself.

130.

He cast his mind back six weeks, to the beginning of e Mole's campaign.

Kennedy Polis had been in turmoil er the arrival of the RUSAMC envoy at the city walls. here had been an air of uncertainty in the Council, with the very real possibility that the envoy was going to be ,sent away, by force if necessary, and the offer of Rea.s.simi- tion rejected. It had taken three weeks of solid debate to "arrive at the decision to open negotiations with the RUSA, and the final vote had been close. Without Senior Councillor Norris' final summation, the Rea.s.similation Bill might have been repealed at the last moment. Roads could understand the RUSAMC sending a covert agent into the city back then, to ascertain the exact nature of the threat Kennedy represented. And yet ...

Why had the Mole not been recalled? If the Rea.s.similation went ahead, the Reunited States would have unlimited access to Kennedy's datapool within a few days. Did they believe that the exchange would be incomplete - or that the . Council, daunted by the a.s.sa.s.sin, would change its mind at the last minute?

And was that, then, why they had sent O'Dell to aid investigation s - not to help catch the Mole, to neutralise the killer?

Roads went back to the desk and checked the information he had been studying the previous night. The Kennedy mortuary records had been stolen two weeks prior to Blindeye. Either O'Dell had brought them up in conversation to deceive Roads, or the captain was unaware of his own government's covert activities. Or had the remark simply been a means of putting Roads off-guard, as he had first thought?

No matter which way he looked at it, it wouldn't fall into place.

He sighed. He was getting as paranoid as DeKurzak, subst.i.tuting RUSAMC secret agents for a hypothetical 1qiOld Guard in a situation where there couldn't possibly be either. The Mole had to be biomodified. The Reunited States, therefore, would hardly tolerate his existence, let alone employ him to further their ends.

He went back to the chair and put his feet up on the desk. The screens were mesmerising. After a while, he stopped counting the numbers of times they changed every minute and resigned himself to wait the whole night if he had to.

The Mole would appear when he was ready. There was nothing Roads could do to make him come sooner than that.

A voice jolted him'to full alertness shortly after midnight. His left leg was stiff from maintaining one posture for so long, and he rubbed it absently while listening to the information Barney relayed. "Boss? We've just had word from DP. There's been some sort of interference down at Emergency Services."

"The Mole?" "An unauthorised request for data came through ten minutes ago. As no-one else is supposed to be using the system tonight, we feel safe a.s.suming it to be our man." "Fair enough," Roads said. "Although it's pretty stupid of him to let us know he tried like that." "Unless he did it deliberately. It wouldn't be the first time."

Roads nodded, calculating times in his head. "Ten minutes. That gives him just enough time to get out of the building and across town. He could be here any moment." "You got it." Her voice was breathless. "The show's about to begin."

"About f.u.c.king time." He stood, checked the microphone taped to his throat and his earplug, and 132.

etched his legs. "Excuse me for a second while I take p.i.s.s." "I promise not to listen." When he returned, the silence of the library had ickened; he was more conscious of the lack of sound an he had been before. He found himself straining to isten for footsteps which didn't exist. If there was nyone in the building, the surveillance systems would ave been triggered already.

Again, an image of the Mole flashed into his mind's .eye. It was a sequence from the footage Morrow had ."given him: of the Mole walking through the laser beams undetected, of the Mole appearing to be invisible to infra-red cameras.

He studied the endlessly changing screens, half expecting to see his dark half already inside the building. "We've got something," said Goss.

The voice made Roads jump. "Where?" "Outside, but ... Hang on a second. It might be a false alarm."

One of the screens flickered and changed to an external view of the grounds. The image was predominantly grey and blue as a result of a light-intensification program. Something ran through a copse of trees - a shadow keeping low to the ground. The camera tracked it, zoomed in close.

It was the timber wolf. "One of the lookouts spotted it," Goss said. "Sorry to give you all a start."

How'd it get in?" Barney asked. "Over the fence?" Roads suggested. "Unlikely,"

said Goss. "The fence is two metres high." "Not impossible," put in O'Dell, his drawl as lazily confident as ever. "Timber wolves have been known to jump higher. I've seen one leap over a man myself.,,"Really? Where was that? - "Back home. They bred like crazy after the War. Y.,, don't have them here?"

"Only one that I know of," said Goss. "And you're looking at it."

a The wolf slid across the open expanse of a lawn like a streak of smoke-blackened. silver. Their perspective s.h.i.+fted to that of another camera, allowing them to watch it in profile. Its muscles rippled beneath an evanescent coat; its eyes glinted emotionlessly in the pale moonlight. "David, I thought you'd b.o.o.by-trapfed the fences?" "We have, Phil. Maybe it dug a tunnel *"

Roads shook his head, taking the suggestion seriously. The wolf's coat was clean and unmarked by dirt. "However it got in, it must've really wanted to."

"And it's headed right for us." He could hear the antic.i.p.ation in Barney's voice. "Forget it. It's a diversion." Roads glanced at the other screens.

"David, tell your people to keep an eye out." "Will do." "A diversion?" asked Barney. "To keep us distracted while he sneaks in somewhere else," "So the Mole has a pet wolf?" asked DeKurzak. "They can be trained," said O'Dell. "But you have to hand-rear them from birth." "Really?" Roads found that interesting. It suggested that the Mole came from the northern regions of the continent - perhaps near Philadelphia, the RUSA capital. "Here it comes." Goss tracked the wolf as it crossed the last open s.p.a.ce before reaching the library. The animal circled the building once, then vanished into a clump of trees nearby. It did not reappear from the other "And there it goes. We've either lost it, or it's gone und. Sorry folks, but show-time's over." he screen changed, became a map of the university unds. Green dots marked untripped alarms sur- riding the library. Roads studied it intently, waiting a sign that the Mole had made his move. A minute gged by, painfully slow; his heartbeat seemed loud ugh to echo in the confines of the toilets. "David? You got anything in the building?" "No, just a couple of small movements." "Where?" "Bas.e.m.e.nt and ground floor. Not worth worrying bout. You know what these old buildings are like, ttling after sunset." "Are you sure?" The timing bothered him. "It could -71 e "Wait," breathed Barney. "I think we might have ,-something."

Roads could hear Goss talking on another line in the background, but couldn't make out the words. The screens changed, and Goss came back. "We've lost contact with two of the lookouts on the roof of the admin building. No alarms have been triggered on the library, though." "That doesn't mean anything, judging from past experience." "True. But let's hang on a moment longer. Don't want to jump the gun."