Mark Tiedemann - Chimera

"Has there been anyone since Nyom?"

Coren frowned thoughtfully, then picked up his glass. He shook his head. "I haven't made the time."

"Not interested, or just not ready?"

He glanced at her speculatively. "Are you making a suggestion?"

Ariel laughed, surprised. Am I? Thinking about it now, with Coren watching her, waiting, she realized that the same question applied to her. It's been a year since Jonis. How long is long enough?

"Maybe," she said. "When we have more time."

"Ah."

"Nova Levis," she said with emphasis.

"Yes. Our phantom research company. Or the colony." The fragile mood broke and Ariel felt mildly self-conscious.

"They could be connected," she said.

Coren set down the glass and rubbed his eyes. "Maybe. Probably. Nova Levis, formerly Cassus Thole, is apparently involved in baleys in a big way. Warehouses, shipping, stolen cargo. Your complaining Spacers and their delayed shipments." He waved a hand. "Too much. I need sleep."

"I'm not tired."

"I can call you a cab if you want."

Ariel studied him, realizing that she did not want to go back to the embassy. Perhaps it was just being away from other Spacers and the confines of the mission precincts, but she was enjoying being here too much. That thought surprised her, too.

Coren looked at her. "Is something wrong?"

"No. If you don't mind, I'd like to stay here."

"Don't you have to report in?"

"Not if I don't want to."

"Senator Taprin-" Coren began.

"Old business."

"But is it over?"

"I thought it was. It would be nice to know for certain."

Coren coughed. "I am really, really tired."

"Do you have anything I can go over, then?" She smiled at him. "Or you can sleep. I'll watch."

He pushed himself up. "Let me finish up a couple of things." He walked woodenly into his office. Ariel could see him from where she sat. She wondered at herself: just what it was she intended with Coren Lanra; what she would do, and why. For the moment she was content to let her feelings run their course. It had been months since she had been interested in anything beyond her own self-denigration. Right now she felt in control, free to act instead of waiting for something to react against.

"Desk," Coren said, "have you completed compilation of the case files of Ree Wenithal?"

"I am sorry, " the Desk said, "I have no record of such a request. "

Coren's face went blank. "Desk, run review. I requested a survey of relevant material concerning the investigations of Ree Wenithal, reference downloaded material from disk yesterday."

A moment passed. "No such material is extant in memory."

"Run diagnostic."

Ariel felt her pulse quicken. "Your system is buffered, I assume?"

"Of course. The whole office is-"

"Diagnostic complete. Reference nine-one-oh. "

Coren snatched Ariel's disk from the reader and tossed it to her. He worked furiously over the surface, then stood. He came back into the private room and went to the shelves.

"Something's infiltrated your system," Ariel said.

"That's the code reference you heard." He tucked small objects into his pockets, then grabbed an overcoat and a soft travel bag. He piled things in quickly, slammed the drawers, and returned to his desk. He studied readouts, nodded once, and entered more commands.

"What-?"

He raised a hand and shook his head. Ariel fell silent. Finally, he shrugged on the overcoat, shut down the Desk, and indicated the exit. Ariel preceded him through the door, across the reception area, and waited.

Coren Lanra pulled out a handgun. Ariel suppressed a shudder at the sight-the weapon looked compact and heavy, with an ominous green light on the frame just above the trigger guard. She was guessing, but it seemed lethal.

He leaned out into the hall, looked left and right, then took her arm. He guided her in the direction of the stairs and gave her a slight push.

Ariel stepped onto the stairwell landing and waited for Coren. When he emerged into the dusty gloom of the shaft, she asked quietly, "Do I get one of those?"

He studied her intently. "You know how to use one?"

"It's been known to happen."

He reached within the voluminous overcoat. A second later he pressed a fatal shape into her hand.

Ariel held it gingerly for a few seconds, studying it. A modified stunner with an extra powerpack and an amplifier along the generator coils. At close range, it would probably kill. She thumbed it on, felt the energy as a faint, numbing surge against her palm. She sited along the barrel a couple of times to get the feel of it, then nodded to Coren.

Coren led the way down the stairs. They had not seemed so dark on the way up, but now the shadows oppressed, the turns threatened. Ariel's pulse was racing by the time they reached the bottom.

"Stay here," Coren said, and stepped quickly out the door. A few seconds later he came back in. "This way."

Beneath the stairs he turned on a handflash. Ariel saw a heavy metal door with a keypad upon which Coren deftly entered a command. Old bolts lurched back and the door swung away from them.

In the light of Coren's flash Ariel made out another landing and a flight of skeletal stairs leading down to a sublevel. Coren closed the door behind them and shined the light above and around. A few cobwebs had gathered in high comers but not so many as might be expected.

Their feet clattered loudly on the bare metal steps. At the bottom, reddish-orange light pooled. Coren switched off his flash.

"That way," he said, pointing down one corridor, "leads to the garage. This way-" he indicated the passage leading straight from the stairs "-runs under the next several buildings in this block. There's access to lower levels."

"Do you own transport?"

"No."

"Then…"

He headed toward the garage.

Halfway down the passage a sound stopped Ariel. She glanced back, trying to comprehend what she had heard-a rasping noise, like rough cloth over gravel, or the hissing of water against a hot surface-yet fearing to see what could make it. But the narrow corridor was empty. She hurried to catch up to Coren.

They entered a storeroom. In the light of Coren's flash, she saw bins stacked high to the ceiling, filled with packages and angular shapes, and clusters of components and discarded parts. A workbench held a complicated mechanism that had been thoroughly dismantled.

Through another door they emerged into one of the garage levels. Bright lights imbedded in the ceiling painted sharp highlights upon the sleeping transports sitting in rows. Coren strode quickly along them, head swiveling, until he came to the end of one row. He dug in his jacket for something, then inserted a card into the reader on the transport door. He tapped a code into the lock. A moment later the door slid open.

"Get in. "

Ariel went around to the passenger door.

Coren powered up the transport and eased it out of the slot.

Ariel glimpsed movement off to the right. Before she could speak, a large shape shot out in front of them, bounced off the hood, and landed heavily on the roof.

"What-?" Coren began.

His window burst in, spraying bits of shattered plastic across them. Ariel clutched the pistol while her free hand came up to protect her face.

The transport lurched to a halt.

Coren was half out the window when she looked again. He hooked his left leg awkwardly under the steering column and his right hand clutched at the frame separating the front and rear sections. An ugly hacking sound came from where she imagined his head must be.

Ariel opened her door. She gave the line of nearby transports a quick survey, then rolled out. She came up facing the vehicle and brought her weapon to bear.

The shape on the roof of the transport looked human. It was large, mostly covered in a long, colorless overcoat, one leg thrust back for balance along the front screen, foot sheathed in a heavy black boot.