Chaos And Order_ The Gap Into Madness Part 46

Therefore Anodyne Systems was in some sense open to Holt Fasner, even though the UMCP provided all working personnel and security.

"As I have suggested," he went on, "our honorable Council has no direct dealings with Anodyne Systems. The Council's SOD-CMOS chips come from us. For that reason our investigation has until now excluded the busy denizens of the GCES complex. Each chip delivered to them can be accounted for. Instead our operational a.s.sumption has been that a stolen chip could only have been obtained directly from Anodyne Systems-and that only our personnel or the Dragon's could have effected the theft.

"Lane's research has thrown that a.s.sumption into confusion. From her fragment she has extracted two-one might call them legible-code-strings. Neither is even remotely complete, yet both are complete enough to be traced.

"SAC programs have determined incontrovertibly that both are small portions of source-code."

He paused to study the PR director's mask of calm interest. Captain Vertigus had given her reason to think she might be in danger. Doubtless that explained Forrest Ing's presence aboard the shuttle: the deputy chief had been a.s.signed personal responsibility for Director Hannish' safety. Nevertheless the particular beauty of her features kept her emotions private.

"Are you familiar with the term?" Has.h.i.+ asked her; but he didn't wait for a reply. "Security such as ours and the Council's relies on continuously s.h.i.+fting patterns of pa.s.scodes and verifications to establish authorization. But because they s.h.i.+ft continuously, these patterns must be generated continuously within each id tag and credential according to parameters and restrictions determined by their designers. This function is performed by a code 'engine.' In essence, the engine 'drives' the modulation of pa.s.scodes and verifications.

"The term 'source-code' refers to the specific language-the grammar and vocabulary, if you will-in which the engine is written.

"Clearly"-he spread his hands to indicate that he was being entirely candid-"the engine represents a more profound secret than the coding it generates. In addition-being itself constant-it is also more identifiable."

While Koina waited, he settled his shoulder blades deeper into his g-seat. Then he came to the point.

"Of the two portions of source-code which Lane has identified, one belongs to the code engine currently in use by Anodyne Systems." He grimaced like a shrug. "So much was to be expected. The chip would not have pa.s.sed testing without being coded for clearance.

"But the other-" Has.h.i.+ rolled his eyes in mock dismay. "Ah, my dear Koina, it is the other which sows consternation among our investigative a.s.sumptions.

"The other," he p.r.o.nounced distinctly so that Forrest Ing couldn't fail to hear him, "is a portion of source-code from the code engine employed by GCES Security."

At last he was rewarded by a small flaring of alarm in Koina's eyes; a glimpse of hidden dread. She was in more danger than she'd realized.

As if he were pleased, Has.h.i.+ remarked, "The implications are dazzling, are they not? QED, the source of our kaze's id tag finds both Anodyne Systems and GCES Security accessible. The logic is immaculate. The difficulty-as I've already suggested-is that GCES Security has no dealings with Anodyne Systems."

When he was satisfied that he'd made himself clear, he concluded, "I wish to attend this extraordinary session of the Council because I believe that my investigation leads there."

Attend me well, Deputy Chief, he added in silence. I, also, may require your protection.

Koina regarded him with darkness stirring in the depths of her gaze. The restrained tension of her cheeks and forehead hinted at the bleak bones beneath the skin. Not for the first time, Has.h.i.+ wondered what her mission to the Council was; what mandate Warden had given her. He wanted an answer, but he no longer believed that she would offer him one.

At last she spoke. Her voice was a soft whisper.

"Did you tell Warden?"

Has.h.i.+ bridled despite his self-command. "Do not insult me, Koina." His chagrin left him strangely vulnerable. "As G.o.dsen would have said, I know my job."

Eventually she nodded. By degrees her gaze slipped down to the sheaf of hardcopy in her hands as if she were asking herself what purpose all those sheets of information served.

He was in no hurry. The ride down the gravity well to Earth and Suka Bator gave him all the time he needed; more than enough. He could afford to be patient. So he waited without speaking-an exercise in self-effacement of which some of his subordinates wouldn't have believed him capable-until at last she raised her head and looked at him again.

"I a.s.sume you don't really want me to give you a formal briefing." Her tone was low, but steady. "I'm sure you already know everything I've told them." She nodded toward her aides. "Why don't you just ask a specific question? That way I can make a specific decision about answering."

Has.h.i.+ renewed his avuncular smile. He needed it now; his own anxieties were too near the surface. Could he ask, What are your instructions from Warden? What position will he take toward Captain Vertigus' Bill of Severance? No: that would be too crude. And not particularly suitable for Forrest Ing's ears.

Instead he said, "If recollection serves, you recently had a matter of some importance to discuss with our esteemed director."

Her nod acknowledged that she remembered the conversation; but she didn't rise to the bait. Her self-possession would have exhilarated Has.h.i.+ if he hadn't been feeling uniquely exposed at the moment.

He cleared his throat. "May I ask how he responded?"

The PR director appeared to weigh a variety of considerations before she answered. When she spoke, her tone was careful, stressing nothing.

"He told me I'm not in any danger. I think his exact words were, 'That's not what this is about.' "

Indeed. Indeed and forsooth. Has.h.i.+ stifled an impulse to attempt several different rejoinders simultaneously. At such times he envied his computers-and his own mind-their capacity for mult.i.tasking. Conversation was sadly linear. To fill the time while he chose which line to take, he flapped a gesture in Forrest Ing's direction and commented, "I see that you do not entirely credit his rea.s.surance. Or Enforcement Division Security does not." But he didn't mean the observation as criticism. "I approve, naturally. It is always wise, to take precautions."

He took them himself. He'd gained one of his ends by "publicly" informing the PR director of the results of DA's investigation. Willingly or not, Forrest Ing would report that Has.h.i.+ had done what he could to provide for koina's safety.

In the meantime, other issues were more important.

As casually as a man who didn't care, Has.h.i.+ murmured, "Forgive my curiosity. What was the director's reaction to your tidings themselves?"

Koina studied him without blinking. An impression of hardness gathered in the background of her gaze. Only the corners of her mouth smiled as she replied, "I'm sorry. To use one of Director Frik's words, that's 'privileged.' "

The days when she could talk to him freely about things which were none of his business were gone. Since her elevation to G.o.dsen's post, she'd been overtaken by new loyalties. Like so many men and women before her, she was no longer able to distinguish between her attachment to Warden Dios and her service to the UMCP.

Has.h.i.+ Lebwohl would get no help from her.

To his cost, he understood. He suffered from a like confusion, despite his best efforts to remain unclouded by the emotional murk-the value judgments and moral posturings, the irrational commitments and blind faiths-which soiled all human truths. With a sigh, he eased his thin limbs farther down into his g-seat.

"In that case, I believe I will avail myself of this opportunity for a brief brief nap." He chuckled aimlessly. "While we still may count ourselves wrapped in the peace of s.p.a.ce." nap." He chuckled aimlessly. "While we still may count ourselves wrapped in the peace of s.p.a.ce."

After he closed his eyes, he heard Koina shuffling through her sheaf of hardcopy; resuming her studies for what lay ahead. Behind him Forrest Ing murmured to the communications tech, who in turn relayed transmissions elsewhere, no doubt using the shuttle's dishes to reach both UMCPHQ and ED Chief of Security Mandich on Suka Bator. But Has.h.i.+ ignored them all.

That's not what this is about.

Though the question pained him, he wondered whether he was capable of playing a game as deep as Warden's.

G and the s.h.i.+elded hull roar of reentry brought him back to attention. Polymerized ceramics protected the craft from heat, but no defense could entirely seal out the howl of violated atmosphere, or the fire of the drive. In this stage of the shuttle's trajectory, braking thrust exerted more pressure than gravity. However, the cabin g-seats had pivoted automatically to meet the force backward. Has.h.i.+'s lean frame seemed to bury itself in the padding as his weight pulled against him. G now was greater than it had been at launch-greater than any physical stress Has.h.i.+ had felt for a number of years-but because it acc.u.mulated incrementally it was less traumatic.

He turned a glance at Koina, saw her features stretched in the characteristic rictus of added g, and at once looked away to allow her at least the illusion of privacy. Under these conditions even the faces of the finest human specimens bore a naked-and nakedly undignified-resemblance to skulls.

Reentry was mercifully quick. For a few minutes he felt himself dragged backward down the gravity well; then the shuttle planed to a more level course, and braking thrust eased. The skin of his face seemed to slump on its bones as if it had lost elasticity, but he began to breathe more easily, and the constriction of too much weight receded from his heart.

In twenty minutes the craft would heat its skids almost to slag on the glazed tarmac of Suka Bator's s.p.a.ceport, and shortly after that the DA director would set foot on his planetary home for the first time in more years than he cared to count.

Now was as good a time as any for him to take his next step, his next precaution.

"Deputy Chief." In effect, Has.h.i.+ now sat behind Forrest Ing. Nevertheless a lifetime of intercoms and transmitters had accustomed him to addressing people he couldn't see. "I require a word with you before touchdown."

Koina looked at him curiously, but didn't interrupt.

The deputy chief craned his neck awkwardly to meet Has.h.i.+'s gaze around his g-seat. He had a blunt, square face which didn't wear perplexity well. In addition, the strain of his posture showed in his expression. After a short stare, he retreated out of sight. "Yes, Director?"

"Deputy Chief," Has.h.i.+ began amiably enough, "Director Hannish's attendance at this extraordinary session of the Governing Council for Earth and s.p.a.ce is expected. Mine is not. Indeed, I hope that my presence will occasion considerable surprise. This may prove fruitful.

"In order to meet events effectively, I must be a.s.sured that you will comply with any requests or instructions I may mention."

He thought he could hear Ing squirming. "Forgive me, Director," the deputy chief said. "My orders from Chief Mandich don't give me much leeway. I'm personally responsible for Director Hannish's safety. Frankly, I'm not even supposed to let her go to the san without calling in an inspection team first. And I'm instructed to take her orders, no one else's. If there's something you want me to do, I'll have to clear it first."

In plain words, Has.h.i.+ muttered to himself, you decline to trust me. Min Dormer's righteous scorn blinkered every mind in Enforcement Division.

"Then clear it now," he retorted more sharply. "My point is precisely the one you raise. If I ask you to 'do something,' I will need it done without the delay of applying to your chief for permission."

The man's discomfort became more palpable. "What kind of trouble are you expecting, Director?"

Has.h.i.+ let a waspish wheeze into his voice. "I expect nothing. But I mean to be prepared."

In its own way, that also was factually accurate. His sense of possibilities was at once precise and indistinct, defined by Heisenberg's profound uncertainty. He felt intuitively that he knew where events were going. That's not what this is about That's not what this is about Therefore he couldn't know what those events were-or would be. Therefore he couldn't know what those events were-or would be.

However, Forrest wasn't satisfied. "Director," he began hesitantly, "with respect-" Then he forged ahead. "Chief Mandich is going to want something more concrete to go on."

Has.h.i.+ had expected this. He also disliked it. His disdain for the ED director and all her blind oversimplifications seemed to rise into his throat. His tone turned to a rasp.

"Then kindly inform Chief Mandich that I require him to a.s.sign personnel to me who have been given his authorization"-he nearly snarled the words-"to do what I tell them."

Trapped by indecision, the deputy chief turned to Koina. "Director Hannish?"

Koina-bless her self-possessed heart-didn't hesitate. "Do it, Forrest," she said calmly. "I don't know what Director Lebwohl is worried about, but whatever it is, I'm sure it's important. If nothing comes of it, we haven't lost anything."

The deputy chief hesitated a moment longer. Then Has.h.i.+ heard him murmur instructions to his communications tech.

With an effort, Has.h.i.+ stilled his anger. Instead of muttering imprecations on Min Donner and all her ilk, he turned to Koina and smiled. Softly, so that he wouldn't be overheard, he breathed, "Thank you, Director Hannish."

His grat.i.tude was real, although nothing he felt or meant was simple.

She regarded him with a somber frown. "Has.h.i.+," she replied, also softly, "why do I get the impression that everything I've been preparing myself for"-she flexed her sheaf of hardcopy-"has suddenly become irrelevant?"

His smile deepened. "My dear young woman, that impression overtakes us all, early or late. The knowledge of existence preeludes the awareness of motion, just as awareness of motion precludes knowledge of existence. And yet neither is of any significance without the other."

The frown tightened its grip on her brow. For a moment he thought that her reserve might crack; that she might snap at him. However, she didn't allow herself to speak until she could ask coolly, "Meaning?"

Has.h.i.+ shrugged against his belts. His own control seemed to slip while hers held. "I expect nothing." The wheeze in his voice was growing worse. "But I mean to be prepared.

"As I have already said," he added hoa.r.s.ely.

She continued studying him until he looked away. Then she remarked distantly, "I suppose that's fair. I didn't answer your question either." Holding her stack of hardcopy sheets in both hands, she began tidying them for touchdown.

He felt an impulse to retort, Indeed you did not. I am gratified that you remember. His irritation was misplaced, however. It belonged on his own head. The fact-perhaps the truth-was that he had no answer to give her. Uncertainty stood in his way.

Warden Dios had outplayed him once. At least once, he amended. If he didn't raise the level of his game-and soon-other people would begin to do the same.

SORUS.

Soar was already moving back into the asteroid swarm, returning toward the heart of Deaner Beckmann's domain, when her communications first opened a channel to Lab Center and persuaded Center that Captain Chatelaine needed to talk to Chief Retledge. was already moving back into the asteroid swarm, returning toward the heart of Deaner Beckmann's domain, when her communications first opened a channel to Lab Center and persuaded Center that Captain Chatelaine needed to talk to Chief Retledge.

Soar's course kept her hidden from her own outbound particle trace. If Retledge declined to help her, Sorus would have to rely on the a.s.sumption that course kept her hidden from her own outbound particle trace. If Retledge declined to help her, Sorus would have to rely on the a.s.sumption that Trumpet Trumpet meant to track her outward. Succorso would want to come after her. And even if sanity prevailed-even if Succorso decided not to risk his s.h.i.+p against meant to track her outward. Succorso would want to come after her. And even if sanity prevailed-even if Succorso decided not to risk his s.h.i.+p against Soar Soar-he would still try to follow her: he couldn't count on avoiding her unless he knew where she was. So Sorus had left him the clearest emission trail she could. Now she doubled back, intending to get on his tail when he began to trace her.

Unless Retledge gave her something more concrete to go on.

For once, Milos Taverner didn't question her. He stood beside her-command station, mutely superintending everything that was said or done on the bridge, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Whether Retledge helped her or not, the Amnioni had already given her his orders. If she didn't return to the vicinity of the Lab, she couldn't carry them out.

She recognized the chief of Security's voice over the bridge speaker before he identified himself.

"Captain Chatelaine? Chief Retledge. This is a surprise. I thought you were heading out. Didn't you tell me you don't want trouble with Captain Succorso?"

Sorus took just a moment to summon her waning resources. Her bridge crew was frightened: she could see that. All her people were scared. To varying degrees they seemed to wear the same fear she'd inflicted on Ciro Vasaczk.

Now more than ever she had to sound confident; needed to be sure of what she did.

Retledge knew her voice as well as she knew his. "That's what I said," she told him without preamble. "I didn't want trouble-not on your turf. Other factors aside, I would rather not make myself unwelcome the next time I decide to visit."

Involuntarily she glanced at Milos; but his face revealed nothing. He still wore the eyeshades she'd given him earlier. Had he forgotten to take them off? Was that possible for an Amnioni? Even if he removed them, however, his pudgy face and alien eyes would have masked his thoughts. The cost of human slaughter no longer had any significance to him.

"But I also told you," she went on, speaking into her command pickup, "that leaving him alive was the worst mistake of my life." She paused long enough to inhale. "I want you to help me correct it."

Her signal bounced along half a dozen or more relays until it reached him. Distance and static flattened out his reply.

"How can I do that?"

"Give me clearance to come back in," she answered promptly. "And answer a couple of questions."

Then she waited.

Out of the dark, Retledge inquired, "Such as?"

"Such as, has he left yet? How long ago? And what course did you a.s.sign him?"

Exactly where in this seething tumult of doomed rock was Trumpet! Trumpet! How much time did Sorus have to do all the things the Amnion wanted from her? How much time did Sorus have to do all the things the Amnion wanted from her?

"Captain Chatelaine"-a burst of static distorted Retledge's tone-"you know we don't give out that kind of information. We're a stationary target here. Our guns give us some protection, but we need more than that. As a matter of policy, we do what we can to stay on good terms with the s.h.i.+ps that visit us. Even if those s.h.i.+ps aren't exactly friendly with each other."

Did he sound angry? She couldn't tell. Just in case, however, she gave her voice a placating tone.

"I understand that, of course, Chief Retledge. Unfortunately I still have a problem. Succorso is sure to come after me. He's going to be a threat as long as he lives." Gently she concluded, "What can I offer you that might make you feel like helping me?"

Milos watched her, listened to her, as if he were blind and deaf.

"Captain Chatelaine," the speaker replied, "you're cleared to return, if that's really what you want. Approach course and protocols follow."

The helm first studied his board, then murmured, "Got it, Captain," as codes and routing came in. Apparently Retledge wasn't angry.

Nevertheless he added a warning. "But if you intend to pick a fight with Captain Succorso, don't waste your time coming back here. We don't want any part of your petty feuds. Go away and leave us alone. Retledge out."