Mark Tiedemann - Chimera

"You can't be expected to know everything, Hofton," Derec said.

"I don't," Hofton said. "But I should know everything about my job."

Derec looked across, through the mesh of his cell door, to the cell opposite his. The Spacer who had been arrested the day Derec had arrived still waited within it. In all the confusion, he had been forgotten.

"It's understandable," Derec said. "Harwol and the others saw something they don't understand. Naturally, their reaction is to put anything they don't understand in a cell."

"All expectations for rational action and maturity notwithstanding," Hofton said gloomily.

"Doesn't matter. The relevant point is, you still have a job. I accept your apology. Now, let's figure out how to solve our problems."

Hofton continued to stare at a spot on the floor for several seconds. Then he drew a deep breath, straightened, and nodded.

"You're right, of course," he said. "What do you propose?"

"Thales withheld information for some reason. There's no way that robot could have done anything with Thales knowing." Derec thought about that. "Scratch that. Without Thales instigating it. Assuming for the moment Thales won't say anything to anyone but us, then the first opportunity we get to question it alone-"

"That may be very difficult. Harwol has an agent in the lab at all times."

"Hmm. All right, then the first thing we have to do is get some idea of what that thing is we saw in the recovered memories. They all saw that, there's nothing left to hide from the TBI. Contact Ariel, go over it with her."

"You said it's a cyborg."

"That's my best guess, but I wouldn't mind being contradicted. If somebody has a better idea, I'd love to hear it."

"Assuming you're correct, though, what then?"

"Then we have a real problem. Harwol and his people have no idea. If it's a cyborg, it was certainly not created out of thin air. There's infrastructure behind it-industry, an impressive application of technology. Which means money. More than likely, if there's one, there are more."

"Whose money?"

"That's one good question. The other is, what do they have to do with baleys?"

"Baleys in general, or those going to Nova Levis specifically?"

"Right now it could be either one. When you talk to Ariel, find out if Lanra has any statistics on the number of baleys going out each year that arrive dead. Or just disappear."

"With all due respect to Mr. Lanra, how would he get such statistics? The Settler colonies are not all willing to provide Earth with data. Census figures alone represent a major problem."

"Mmm. Well, maybe he knows someone who can get those numbers. I just need to know if one colony above any other is having a problem with this."

Hofton nodded. "I'll see what I can find out. Anything else?"

"Can you go in and out of the lab?"

"For the time being." He grinned wryly. "I'm a bit of a gray area for them. They don't quite know how to handle me. I've threatened them with Ambassador Setaris."

"Then get me an update from Thales."

"Yes, sir. Shall I see about getting you out of here?"

"Eventually, yes. For now, though, I've got some thinking to do, and this is as good a place as any. "

"Yes, sir. Anything else?"

"Call me Derec."

Hofton stood. "I'll see what I can do. Sir."

Hofton placed his hand against the lock pad. The door opened for him; after he passed through, the mesh slid back into place. If Derec had tried to follow Hofton a stunner would have knocked him back very firmly.

A few minutes later, the main door opened again and two of Palen's uniforms brought a man into the block. They escorted him into a cell at the opposite end from the main door, locked him in, and left without glancing at Derec or the other prisoner.

Derec strained to see into the cell of the new inmate, but the man had flopped onto his cot.

Derec looked across the concourse at the other Spacer.

"So what did you do that got you thrown in here?" Derec called.

The Spacer sat up. After a few seconds of contemplation, the man went to his cell door, placed his hand on the lock, and walked out. With a glance in the direction of the newcomer, he came quietly up to Derec's door, opened it, and entered the cell. The door slid shut and the Spacer sat down where Hofton had been sitting.

Derec stared at him. "You're one of Palen's people."

He grinned. "Right on the first guess. They didn't lie when they said you were bright." He extended his hand. "Masid Vorian, station security."

Derec shook Masid's hand. "So I suppose you heard everything we discussed?"

"Most of it. Don't worry about the TBI, though. The cell monitoring system is keyed to Sipha's password. She shut it down after Harwol and his eager fools showed up. So they'll never know what you discussed with your man, or what you and I talk about now."

Derec nodded toward the door. "What about the new prisoner?"

"Must be a legitimate arrest. His escorts would've given me some kind of warning if he was a plant or something. Don't worry-I doubt he can hear our conversation, either."

"And what are we talking about now?"

"The same thing." Masid leaned forward earnestly. "You need to understand one thing: Sipha Palen is a good cop. She's honest, dedicated, and a magnificent pain in the ass to work for as a result, but she's sincere about the job."

"I never doubted it."

Masid nodded once. "But it gets her in trouble. That's the reason she's up here and not running a department on the ground. "

"Honest to a fault."

"She doesn't always know when to shut up." He grinned. "In certain circles, it can be a real deficit."

"She planted you in the lab."

"No, I was already there. I'm a turned agent. I used to work for Settler security. Sipha found out and made a deal with me: work for her, at least part-time, or she'd expose me."

"Forgive me, but you look like a Spacer."

Masid made a mock bow. "Native of Proclas."

"Then how-?"

"It's a long story. The short version is, I was trained as an information specialist, but, frankly, it's boring work. Proclans are agrarian by temperament, but you can't maintain much of a civilization growing vegetables. I started freelancing. The government called it treason and I had to leave. I ran an independent merchant ship for a while, then went to work for the Theian intelligence service on Pax Commari-"

"That's a Settler colony."

"Yes, it is. Theia sponsored it. Anyway, I decided that what I was doing was crass and unethical, so I turned myself in to the local intelligence people. They had absolutely no use for me, but-lucky me-,..they knew someone who did. I ended up working for the Settler Coalition. "

"I didn't know they had an intelligence arm. "

"Not very many people do. Their biggest concern is smuggling. Post to post to post, I ended up here. " He raised his arms. "That's the short version. Some day when we have time and a good deal to drink, I'll give you the full version, which is a lot more interesting. "

"So you work for Palen part of the time."

"At this point, I'd have to say I work for Palen all of the time. She made me a good deal. Over the last few years, I've found myself with a growing case of loyalty to her. "

"That impressive?"

"I respect her," Masid said.

The way he said it, Derec got the immediate sense of a vast and profound commitment; that respect was something Masid Vorian esteemed above all else.

"All right," Derec said slowly. "I presume that the arrangement is, you work with the Aurorans for a time and when you have something to report you get yourself arrested."

"Basically. Most of the time information is easily sent through a secured comm channel. But sometimes something comes up that requires a personal meet."