Peter Hamilton - The Mandel Files

“Yes,” said Philip. “If that kind of disturbance is being repeated by others like him I’d hate to think of the long-term consequences.

“Perhaps that’s Wolf’s goal,” Greg said. “Trying to sabotage Event Horizon’s long-term prospects.”

“I don’t mean just us, boy. I’ve run my own analysis on the burns and their fallout. They’re totally indiscriminate. If that sort of thing isn’t halted soon it’ll add at least another couple of points to inflation, and that’s already running too high as it is. A further rise would blow the Chancellor’s budget to pieces.”

“You mean even Kendric would suffer?”

“Everybody suffers,” Walshaw said bluntly.

“Could it be another government? If England’s industrial output goes down, who’d step in to make up the shortfall?”

“Just about everybody,” Philip concluded miserably. “Bloody Pacific Rim would be the biggest beneficiaries, of course.”

Julia saw the connection without having to kick in her processor nodes. “A finance house,” she said firmly. Both men looked at her. “A finance house would benefit from a change of interest rates, if they knew for sure it would happen.”

“That’s right, they would. Good girl, Juliet.”

“The di Girolamo house?” Walshaw mused.

“Why worry?” she said brightly. “Greg can do his word-association thing with Ellis to find out the details. You’ll have it all solved for us by tonight, Greg, won’t you?”

Greg sat back in his chair, a tired smile playing over his battered face. “How much do you want to bet on that?”

Greg kept a cautionary eye on Julia as she walked out to the car with him. There was a confidence about her which had been absent before; she’d always had poise, but it’d been stilted and formal. This was a natural grace. No doubt Adrian had a lot to do with it. The kind of stability he offered putting her at ease with other people.

Adrian hadn’t changed all her habits, though. He thought her emerald broderie anglaise dress was something Maid Marion would’ve been perfectly at home in; it had puffball cap sleeves, a lace-up bodice and a skirt hem riding several centimetres above her knees. Nice legs. The girl’s clothes sense was the weirdest, nobody else her age wore anything remotely similar. But, of course, she wasn’t like anybody else her own age. Just wanted to be.

She lifted the front door’s iron latch for him, eager to please. Sparrows, goldfinches, and a couple of hoopoes squabbled underneath the sprinklers’ cascade, pecking at the grass for worms that’d risen in the artificial rain. The direct sunlight set off an uncomfortable itch on Greg’s face and hands.

“Hop in,” he said, as he blipped the Duo doors, “I’ve got something to say to you.”

Her face lit up with mischief. “Greg, really! And Adrian so close by.”

He sensed that ghostly extraneous thought current leave her mind with lightning swiftness. Her own thoughts were a fast-paced mixture of excitement and contentment. Julia was one happy girl. He flicked the jammer on, screening the Duo’s interior from the manor’s security surveillance sensors. “Julia.”

Her expression dropped at his tone. “What?”

“Katerina.”

“Oh, her. What about her?”

“I’m going to be very nice to you, and I’m not going to put you over my knee and give you a damn good wallop. Although God knows you deserve it, or worse, after what you’ve done.”

“What?” She was spluttering, hauteur and outrage gathering within her mind.

“Your grandfather was quite right about you. You’re a sciolistic; you know the moves, but not the governing laws.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, you worked it out very nicely on a surface level, I’ll grant you that. What you failed to appreciate were the undercurrents.”

“Stop talking in euphemisms, it’s bloody annoying.”

“I’ve seen inside Kendric’s mind,” Greg said. “He dreams of you, Julia.”

“He does?” She was suddenly very uncertain.

“He hates you, and fears you. He wants to destroy you. No. He’s obsessed with destroying you. Not merely Event Horizon, but you personally, physically. He wants you beneath him, Julia, spread-eagled and screaming. He’s sick in a way you’ll never know.”

“I do know,” she insisted quietly.

“No, not really; you still haven’t twigged, have you? Loathing is an abstract to you, a word whose meaning you’ve looked up in a dictionary. Kendric is its physical embodiment, lethal, and scatological to boot. You will never understand the sheer intensity of his revenge psychosis. It’s a monstrous personality dysfunction.

“Tell you, Kendric sets up targets to knock down, fixates on them, devoting himself singlemindedly to their downfall. For the kind of left-hand business he’s involved with it’s a commendable trait. He’d been pretty successful, too; built up a good reputation for reliability, top man in the field. He’d never really known failure. Then I come along, hired by your grandfather, and we thwart him in what was probably his most ambitious scheme ever: asset-stripping Event Horizon. His first true debacle. Then you followed it up by humiliating him with blackmail. Anyone flying that high is going to be hurt bad by the fall. Small wonder you dominate his thoughts; any normal person would be bitter, but with a wacko like that it was probably the push over the edge. You misjudged him completely, and now Katerina is suffering because of that.”

“She went with him,” Julia said defiantly. “It was her choice.”

“Of course it was, but you engineered it. You and your oh-so-logical nodes, meticulously sketching out all the conceivable scenarios the players could be combined in. You’ve got Kendric, rich, handsome, an expert in seduction, kinky wife who doesn’t object to him playing the field. Katerina, in your eyes naive, also sex-mad and your close friend, who just happens to have in tow a very desirable stud who you’ve had your eye on for some time. And finally the poor old stud himself, Adrian, who Katerina had almost tired of anyway.

“You invited Katerina and Adrian to Horace Jepson’s party, a real fiesta rave atmosphere complete with the world’s greatest rock star. Katerina could no more refuse that than a bee can ignore pollen. And you chose it because that party was the perfect melting pot. Kendric walks in, sees you, the lonely little rich girl with probably her only real friend in the world, who by lucky chance is a real stunner and just as randy as he is. Well, he jumps at it, doesn’t he? And he succeeds easily, because he’s got the same sex appeal as Adrian, loaded with a suavity Adrian couldn’t begin to match, and filthy rich with it. Katerina simply leaps at him.

“Kendric thinks he’s scored a double bonus, depriving you of a friend and confidante, and at your age friends like that are terrifically important, plus he gets himself and Hermione a nice chunk of fresh meat to fun around with. You, in the mean time, get rid of Katerina, in whose company any girl will look like one of Cinderella’s sisters, and get to console a devastated Adrian, who gratefully repays you with the only currency he’s got.”

There was a long moment of excruciating silence. “Kats did, you know.” Julia was sitting perfectly still, gazing unseeingly straight down the drive. “School, parties, clubs; nobody even knew I existed. Not with her there. Her bust, her legs, God, even her voice is total audio-sex.” She sniffed, blinking furiously, neck still rigid. “Do you know why I grew my hair so long? Do you? Because boys like a girl with long hair. Somebody told me that when I was eleven, and I’ve never had it cut since. I thought it would give me a chance, because there’s nothing else to attract them. But of course her hair’s long too, and shiny blonde.” Julia turned to look straight at him, unrepentant, hot determination shining bright in her mind. “All I’ve got is my brains. And if brains is the only way I can grab hold of a boy, then by God that’s how I’ll grab one. And there’s nobody, not you, not Grandpa, nobody, who is going to tell me different!”