An Eighty Percent Solution Part 17

"You didn't. It's just that a.s.sumption that someone has to have someone else to be a full person-well, it drives me crazy sometimes."

"I was just trying to make conversation."

She really didn't even hear him. "If I have one regret, it's that I won't have anyone to pa.s.s my gifts to."

The elevator door opened onto two imposing men in bodyguard yellow before Tony could continue digging into even more uncomfortable territory. One stood like a white, weathered mountain with an obvious Russie heritage, the other his polar opposite, slight and fast, with the cast of the southern Asians.

"Hi Greg, Tuan. We're here to see the Jamie."

"You're supposed to come alone," one barked. "You know the rules." The other guard stood at attention, holding his flechette gun in a perfect diagonal cross of his bare chest.

"Pish and tosh." Only one as ma.s.sive and tall as Greg could stare down at Sonya. She locked eyes with him and didn't let them go. It took only a minute. She felt Greg must be slipping.

"Well, give us some warning next time," the guard said finally, giving up the staring contest.

"If you didn't have us spotted at least ten minutes ago, I'd be surprised."

"Whatever. Climb in," he said, pointing at the portal of a scanning machine like they use at s.p.a.ceports for carry-on luggage. The entrance on this end fed into a blank wall and came out somewhere beyond. Sonya jumped up onto the conveyor belt and lay down without a second thought. She remembered her trepidation the first time and hoped Tony handled it well.

In the s.p.a.ce of seven deep breaths, practiced with a calm meditation of the soul, the makes.h.i.+ft scanner dribbled her back out into the light. She rolled off the end of the belt to her feet with the grace of one of her cats. Tony, carrying Cin in his arms, provided a new definition of gracelessness as he fell hard onto his backside, his legs flailing in the air. Adding insult to injury, his head flipped back and banged against the scanner supports, drawing a scathing oath in a language Sonya didn't know but determined by its invective. Cin, on the other hand, landed on all fours on Tony's stomach as if this happened daily.

Sonya silently offered Tony a hand up. As he took it, not without a scowl, Sonya took the opportunity to examine his head. Just enough blood leaked from the scalp to eventually create a scab. It wound up in the category of painful and annoying, but nothing more.

She registered the new rich red paint since her last visit. It flowed in with the rest of the decor. Real crown molding and wainscoting in a style not seen for nearly a century accentuated the dark green velvet and the carved marble columns in the corners. Few countries on Earth or its colony worlds could've afforded even two of the six Maxfield Parrish paintings mounted to the wall. Yet only the Mob's reputation, and a few bodyguards such as Greg and Tuan, protected the art.

Invariably, any newcomer found themselves in front of "Daybreak." Sonya, on the other hand, preferred to immerse herself in "White Birches: Winter" at every opportunity. Placing Cin on his shoulders, Tony gawked at each painting in turn. Sonya sensed that Cin appreciated the works herself.

"Dian!" said a lean, red-headed woman in a long, blue velvet dressing gown to Sonya as she came into the room. Her long, well-toned legs, clad in stockings, garters and blue Pintera pumps, parted the gown and carried her over to Sonya. She gave her a pair of French-style air-kisses now regaining popularity with the effete. "I see you brought a pair of toys with you." The woman unabashedly examined Tony like a prize cow on the auction block, but with barely a fleck of interest in Cin.

"Jamie. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

"Always a pleasure, for the right price, of course."

"Naturally. Let me introduce Michael Durant, a new but very valuable member of my team."

"Nice to meet you, Michael," Jamie said, offering one of her manicured hands, complete with fingernails that changed color to contrast to whatever they lay against. Sonya watched Jamie's hard eyes, completely at odds with her pin-up body, as Jamie evaluated "Michael's" response. He gallantly took her hand in his and bowed deeply over it, but didn't kiss it.

"Oh, I see Dian's already got you under her thumb, and other places," the woman said with the faintest of smiles.

"No, not exactly, Jamie. I'm just not partial to redheads."

Sonya flipped Tony a glittering stare. A short silence filled the room.

"Touche. Well played, Michael, or whatever your name is."

Tony bowed again in acknowledgement.

"So enough games. Shall we sit and have some tea while we talk business?"

"Very well." Jamie snapped her fingers, and a small army of servants brought in an antique double-trestle table carved from a solid piece of granite, plus matching chairs, a silver tea service, and scones, perfect for a midmorning snack. Just as quickly as the servants appeared, they disappeared. Jamie poured generous servings for each, even a small saucer of milk for Cin.

"Dian, I remember you like yours with just a touch of milk."

"Yes, Jamie."

"And you, Michael?"

"I like mine sweet."

"Let's say two sugars, then. So what brings you here today," Jamie asked, proffering each their refreshment in turn. Tony let Cin down onto the table at her dish. Cin sat patiently as Tony pinched a small blueberry scone from the tray.

Sonya sensed Tony's decision to remain quiet and be subservient. A good choice, as he didn't know why they were here. "We're after a backdoor into any of these major corps' data-nets," Sonya said, sliding a small sc.r.a.p of plastic onto the table. In one continued movement she lifted her cup and took a dainty sip.

Jamie didn't even bend over to look at the plastic or what it carried. "Really? Sure you wouldn't like some SLSA rockets? Maybe some Gunnison gauss guns? We also just recently got a s.h.i.+pment of Black Marionettes."

"Sorry, no. Information this time, not hardware."

"What you're asking for isn't trivial. I honestly don't know if we can deliver to any kind of timeline."

"What kind of price would be a.s.sociated with this?"

"I couldn't even apply a price to such information," she said with the civility of a garden party. "Probably more than you could afford. It would be well into the millions."

"Please don't a.s.sume our financial status is burdened with the problems of the past."

"There were words on the street to that effect, but one can't always believe what one hears."

"Well, you can believe it this time."

"In that case, how about I investigate and provide you with a quote and a timeline?"

"That would be perfectly acceptable. This is excellent tea."

"Darjeeling. We have some being grown illegally in India and brought over. Another cup?"

Cin lifted her face from the bowl and proceeded to clean her face contentedly. "No, thank you. We really must be moving on. We have many other stops to make."

"Yes, we thank you for your hospitality," Tony offered.

"Well, Michael, if I'm not stepping on Dian's toes, I'll offer you even more hospitality," Jamie said in a voice both sultry and low.

Tony shook his head just a fraction. "Thank you, no. We do really have to be going."

"A shame. But come back any time."

Fifteen silent minutes later, Tony and Sonya walked side by side, back to the decay that was ground level. Both tried to speak simultaneously.

"Why didn't you take her up on it?"

"Why did we go there?"

They both laughed. "You first," Sonya insisted.

"Why did we go there? We didn't get anything out of her. And if you think she's going to come up with a quote for us, you're crazy. There's no way she can get that info for us. Despite her serene hostess facade, her inability to deliver was written all over her."

"Of course it was. That's what I was testing for, actually. Normally, she just quotes a very high price for something and we politely d.i.c.ker. Even she didn't think she could get the information. And if she can't, no one can. That's what I needed. No backdoors for Augustine."

"Too bad. We could use the direct information."

"Yes, she's been asking for years. This is the first time we've had the resources to even pose the question. By the way, don't let her vamp att.i.tude make you think less of her. She runs the most pervasive Mob family around."

"She did seem a bit casual."

"It's a defense mechanism. No one initially gives her the credit for her intelligence and her ruthlessness. Be that as it may, I had two other reasons for my visit. The easiest was to convey that our financial wherewithal has improved. That will get us better service and attention in the future."

"And the other?"

"To introduce you to her, of course."

Measure Performance-Phase One Linc and Tony worked side-by-side in what pa.s.sed for the militia's armory, an abandoned automotive service garage at ground level. Linc's bald head beaded with perspiration that also rolled down the side of his face. "Hot in here, isn't it?"

"Are you nuts?" Tony asked. "It's November, we had a high of ten degrees today, and I'm ready to set fire to this dump just for some heat." Tony watched Linc wipe a thick layer of moisture from over the top of his head with his forearm before preparing another explosive charge. Linc's face didn't have any of its normal healthful vigor, but instead wore a mask of white mottled with pink. "Maybe you're pus.h.i.+ng too hard?"

"Don't worry about me. I can work the long hours. I want to win, and now that we can finally see some successes, I'm just a little eager." His outburst drained what little color remained in his face.

"Linc, let this one go. What is this, your ninth mission in seven days? I'll pick up someone else for this one. Christine's been itching to do something, seeing as we've all but nixed her specialty from further field operations."

"Well, I must admit I'm not feeling very well."

"You don't say? OK, sorry for the sarcasm, but I really think you should call it a day. You don't look so good."

"You sure you can do it without me?"

"Yeah. Walk in the park compared to the risks we were taking when I first started this show."

"Well, OK. Thanks, Tony. I'm going to go lay down."

Nine miniature solidos once again sat on the matte black surface of Nanogate's desk.

"We've heard enough of your complaints. These impromptu meetings are dangerous and costly." Several others nodded.

"We did agree to meet more often. We're meeting remotely only in deference to Tokyo Industrials and Unified Textiles, who could not alter their travel schedules."

"Yes, quite right. Taste Dynamics, please refrain from changing the topic. We shall now continue, with Nanogate having the floor."

"I've brought this to your attention previously, but now things are becoming perilous. All of those companies in my linked directorate have fallen under attack. Sixty separate incidents over two weeks. Our cash reserves are dangerously low. If it continues it may force us to close our doors...all of them."

"Your poor foresight is not our concern. Why are you whining when-"

"Gentlemen," CNI interrupted, "There is a perfectly simple solution to everyone's troubles. This effort was supposed to be a shared risk to us all. As it's been directly affecting only one of us, I suggest we all provide unsecured loans to weather these issues." Most of the quorum nodded.

"Pa.s.sed by acclamation."

"A practical solution," offered Wintel, one of the more conservative of their group. "This will get you past the worst of it. If you'll refer to our simulations, you'll see the weapons should begin to be felt any time now. We'll see an easing of this area steadily for the next three weeks."

"I don't believe this body really understands the gravity of the situation. Two more weeks of this will cause a significant portion of our directorate to declare insolvency. Three weeks would completely destabilize not only my administration but also the corporate fold I control. This could easily cause a ripple effect that would impact you as well. My simulations show a fourteen percent chance of catastrophic failure, a twenty-nine percent chance of a system-wide depression, and a further thirty-eight percent chance of recession. My data is available to any who wish to examine the validity of the simulations.

"With these thoughts in mind, I would like to propose something more than just loans. Loans only temporarily prop up what has become a sinking s.h.i.+p. I propose we each a.s.sume an equal share of the losses. I ask for a vote."

Nanogate knew what the outcome would be before it even showed. The world of finance bred cutthroats, not altruists. They couldn't see or smell the danger to themselves for the blood in the water. Most of them were already deciding how they could snap up pieces of his company for the biggest profit.

Eight nays carried the vote.

"Thank you for your time, gentlebeings. I must prepare what I can and determine what loans I'll need from each of you."

Without fanfare he terminated the connection. His single b.u.t.ton push summoned Mr. Marks in his yellow vinyl. "I have another job for you."

"Of course, sir."

"As we-I mean, Tony-predicted," reported Beth, "we've been experiencing a large influx of not only volunteers, but warmth from the community, where just a short while ago we were beginning to see signs of support erosion and in some cases even hostility."

"Excellent. With that and our next steps in place, I call for new business," Sonya said. As one the group remained silent. "Well, in that case, I have a new item. This one's a two-edged sword. We've been contacted by the head of the Nanogate syndicate."

"How did he find us?"

"There were two messages. Both found their way to me. The first Augustine ferreted out when she spent last weekend trying to break into another Nanogate mainframe level. There in the open for even the most moronic of icebreakers to find was a message addressed to the GAM.

"The second came to us from the brother of one of our current members. I won't mention who, as he or she would be embarra.s.sed to admit they have a corpie as a sibling. Somehow, the Nanogate sent us a personal message buried as an implant in the man's brain. The details are lengthy, but after they fired the man he came to his brother for help. Our medical probes, the same ones you each were subjected to, discovered it easily. Both conveyed exactly the same message, word for word.

"He wants a percomm meeting at a specific time. He a.s.sures us there will be no attempt to trace the call. There's no reason for the call given. It's signed with the CEO's DNA."

Tony fingered a crack in the upholstery as he considered Sonya's words. "That really is a basket of snakes," he remarked after a moment.

"Why go 'o such 'engths?"

"Yeehaw! We got him on the run. He must be desperate."

"You think he might want to negotiate a peace?"

"Or buy'n time to fix his stuff."

"Or even it could be a trap."

"I congratulate you all," Sonya agreed. "I came up with exactly the possibilities you proposed."