Judas Unchained cs-2 Read online

  “Is that likely?”

  “It’s a remote possibility. Legally, they have to put everything on file, and therefore Senate Security has complete access as we are higher up the security service food chain. However, you and I both know that the navy is compromised. One of the Starflyer’s people could be holding things back.”

  “Assuming they’re not, will the hotel room tell us much?”

  “Not really. The Guardians seem to be as thorough with their tradecraft in their own homes as they are everywhere else. The only report I really value is Kazimir’s financial record. That should give us a nice breakdown of his movements before you alerted the navy to his presence.”

  A fresh burst of guilt at the reminder made Justine tighten her jaw muscles. “When will that be ready?”

  “A couple of days. The navy intelligence office in Paris will correlate the data. I’ll review it after that.”

  “Paris: that’s your old office, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Senator.”

  “Do you think that’s where the Starflyer’s agent is?”

  “It’s a very high probability that one of them is there, yes. I was running several entrapment operations before I was dismissed.”

  “And I went and told them about Kazimir,” Justine said bitterly.

  Paula Myo stared straight ahead at the cylinder containing the array. “I will expose the Starflyer, Senator. That is what the Guardians are fighting for; the one thing Kazimir McFoster believed in above all else.”

  “Yes,” Justine said with a nod.

  “I have completed an analysis of the memory crystal,” the RI announced. “It holds three hundred and seventy-two files of encrypted data. There are some software safeguards against unauthorized access, but they can easily be circumvented.”

  “Good,” Justine said. Given the capacity of the array she would have been very surprised if it couldn’t gain access to whatever was stored on the crystal.

  “Can you decrypt the files?”

  “They are encrypted with one thousand two hundred eighty dimension– geometry. I do not have the processing capacity to decrypt that level.”

  “Bugger,” Justine muttered. For a moment her hopes had actually risen; she had expected slightly more help from a piece of hardware that had just cost her over five million Earth dollars. “Who does?”

  “The SI,” Paula said. “And the Guardians, of course.”

  Justine asked the question that she found very difficult. “Do you trust the SI?”

  “In helping us defeat the Prime aliens, I believe it to be a trustworthy ally.”

  “That’s a very cautious answer.”

  “I do not believe that humans can understand the SI’s full motivation. We do not even know its true intent toward us as a species. It claims to be benign, and it has never acted in any other fashion toward us. However…”

  “Yes?”

  “During the course of my investigations I have come across instances which suggest it pays considerably more attention to us than it will admit to.”

  “Intelligence gathering has been the occupation of governments since the Trojans got a real bad surprise from that little gift the Greeks left behind. I don’t doubt for a second the SI monitors us.”

  “But to what end? There are several theories, most of which belong to the wilder realms of conspiracy paranoia. They all tend to concern its incipient ascent to godhood.”

  “What do you believe?”

  “I imagine it considers us in much the same way as we would regard a mildly troublesome neighbor. It monitors us because it doesn’t want any surprises, especially one which would threaten the neighborhood.”

  “Is this really relevant?”

  “Probably not, unless it chooses to take the side of the Primes.”

  “Damn, you’re suspicious.”

  “I prefer to think of it as an extended chess exercise,” the Investigator said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I try to see all the possible moves that can be made to oppose me as far ahead as I can. But I agree that the SI being an enemy is extremely remote. On a personal level I have established a useful working relationship with it; and of course it does contain a great deal of downloaded human personalities, which should act in our favor.”

  “Now I just don’t know what the hell to think.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to place you under any additional anxiety. It was thoughtless of me given your current situation.”

  “You know, the only benefit of my age right now is that I know when I’m too messed up to be making that kind of decision. So if you don’t mind, I’ll just leave it up to you. Do you want to ask the SI to decrypt this for us?”

  “The only alternative is to contact the Guardians and ask them directly.”

  “Do you know how to do that?” Justine asked.

  “No. If I had that kind of lead into the Guardians I would have shut them down decades ago.”

  “I see.” The gray-blue icon for the code Kazimir had sent her hovered in the corner of her virtual vision, inert but oh-so-tempting. Once again she knew she wasn’t thinking clearly enough to make that choice. She didn’t even know if she should tell the Investigator she had it. And for a Commonwealth senator to contact what was currently classified as a political terrorist group was a momentous act. Instinctively, she was loath to risk loading that innocuous code into the unisphere. If any such association became public knowledge before the Starflyer was exposed, she would be completely discredited. Not even the family would be able to protect her. And the Starflyer would have won another victory.

  “We might not have to ask anyone to help with the memory crystal,” Paula said. “The navy is investigating the observatory in Peru. They ought to be able to find out the nature of the data, even if the actual files remain blocked.”

  “Okay then,” Justine said in relief. “We’ll wait until the navy files that report.” She extracted the memory crystal from the array, then switched off the room’s screening. Warm afternoon sunlight flooded back through the big windows, making Justine blink.

  The mansion’s butler was waiting beside the door. “Admiral Columbia is waiting to see you, ma’am,” he said.

  “He’s here?” Justine asked in surprise.

  “Yes, ma’am. I showed him into the west wing reception room and asked him to wait.”

  “Did he say what he wanted?”

  “Alas, no, ma’am.”

  “Stay here,” Justine told Paula. “I’ll deal with this.” She set off down the north wing’s central corridor, squaring her shoulders as she went. How typical of Columbia to try to gain the advantage by making a surprise visit to her home ground. If he thought that kind of crude tactic would work against even the most junior Burnelli he was badly mistaken.

  The decoration in the west wing reception room harked back to the most lavish days of the French monarchy. Justine had always disliked quite so much gilt framing and gold leaf; and the period chairs, although beautifully ornate, were actually uncomfortable to sit on for any length of time.

  Admiral Rafael Columbia was standing waiting in front of the huge fire-place, one foot raised slightly to rest on the marble hearth. In his immaculate uniform, all he was missing was a fur-lined coat for the image of an imperial tsar to be complete. He seemed to be studying the onyx case clock dominating the mantelpiece.

  “Senator”—he gave her a small bow as she made her entrance, pushing the double doors open and striding in—“I was admiring the clock. An original?”

  The doors swept shut behind her. “I imagine so. Father is quite an aggressive collector.”

  “Indeed.”

  Justine indicated a glass-top table, etched with the Burnelli crest. They sat down on opposite sides in high-back chairs.

  “What can I do for you, Admiral?”

  “Senator, I’m afraid I must ask why you interfered with a navy intelligence operation. Specifically, removing the body of a suspected terrorist from the sce
ne of a crime.”

  “I didn’t remove anything, Admiral. I accompanied the body.”

  “You arranged for it to be moved to a nonofficial facility.”

  “Our family biotechnology facility, yes. Where the autopsy was conducted under full official supervision.”

  “Why, Senator?”

  Justine gave him an icy smile. “Because I have no confidence in navy intelligence. I had just witnessed the entire surveillance operation fail catastrophically. I didn’t want any further failures. Kazimir’s body should provide the intelligence staff with a great many leads. From what I’ve seen so far, your department has proved remarkably incompetent. There are to be no further mistakes on this case, Admiral. I will not accept any excuses.”

  “Senator, may I ask how you know Kazimir McFoster?”

  “We met while I was taking a vacation on Far Away. We had a brief fling. He then showed up here at Tulip Mansion just before the Prime attack. Naturally, when he told me he was working for the Guardians, I informed Commander Hogan immediately. It’s all on file.”

  “What did he want?”

  “A number of things. To convince me the Starflyer was real. To remove the customs inspection of all cargo traveling to Far Away. I refused.”

  “So you weren’t close then?”

  “No.”

  “I understand you were extremely upset by his death.”

  “I was extremely shaken by it. I am not used to witnessing total death. No matter what his views and activities, nobody that young should suffer death.”

  “Was the supervised autopsy your idea, Senator?”

  “Yes.”

  “I understand Paula Myo also accompanied the body.”

  “I have every confidence in Investigator Myo.”

  Rafael’s expression tightened. “I’m afraid I don’t share that confidence, Senator. The Investigator is a large factor in the whole Guardian problem which navy intelligence faces. I was surprised and not a little upset when I heard your family secured her appointment to Senate Security.”

  “We were surprised you dismissed her from navy intelligence.”

  “After a hundred thirty years of no results, I thought it expedient.”

  “Everybody in the Commonwealth knows about the Investigator precisely because she does produce results.”

  “To be frank with you, Senator, she’s beginning to lose the plot. She accused her own officers of disloyalty. She was running external operations without clearance. She also began to show sympathetic tendencies toward the terrorists she was supposed to be pursuing.”

  “Sympathy, in what way?”

  “She said she believed in the Starflyer alien.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Who killed my brother, Admiral?”

  “I don’t understand. You know it was the same assassin that killed McFoster.”

  “Quite. And McFoster was a Guardian. Whoever that assassin works for, they are opposing both the Commonwealth and the Guardians. I believe that leaves you with a rather narrow field of suspects, doesn’t it?”

  “The Guardians have been involved with the black market arms trade for a very long time. As a group, those people tend to settle their arguments with extreme force. We believe this assassin works for one of the merchants involved.”

  “And my brother just got in the way?”

  “If an arms shipment was blocked, then a lot of money would be at stake.”

  “This is ridiculous. Commonwealth senators are not murdered in some primitive vendetta.”

  “Nor are they killed by invisible aliens.”

  Justine sat back and glared at the Admiral.

  “However unpleasant it is to acknowledge, Senator,” Rafael said, “the Commonwealth has a large criminal fraternity. That is why the original Intersolar Serious Crimes Directorate was formed. If you don’t believe me, then feel free to ask Investigator Myo. Or you might like to consider why Senate Security exists. We have enough problems with genuine threats to the Commonwealth. We really don’t need to invent new ones.”

  “Admiral, are you warning me off?”

  “I’m advising you that your current actions are inappropriate at this difficult time. Right now we need to pull together and fight our very real enemy.”

  “The navy has my full support, and will continue to receive it.”

  “Thank you, Senator. One last thing. The McFoster terrorist was on some kind of courier mission. We didn’t find what he was carrying.”

  She cocked her head to one side, and gave him a blank smile. “Isn’t that unusual?”

  “Very, Senator. I was wondering if you saw anything while you accompanied him?”

  “No.”

  “Are you certain, Senator?”

  “I never saw what he was carrying. If he was.”

  “I see.” Columbia’s gaze never flickered. “We will find it eventually, you know.”

  “You didn’t find the assassin afterward, did you?” It was a childish gibe, but Justine enjoyed it anyway, especially the way Columbia’s neck reddened slightly above his uniform collar.

  Gore Burnelli and Paula Myo were talking on the worn leather sofa when Justine returned to her day room. Her father’s plain gold face reflected dapples of light that glinted on the pillars and floor, flowing around with any tiny movement he made. Justine activated the screening as she came in, cutting off the daylight.

  “That McFoster boy made you soft and sentimental,” Gore said as soon as they were secure. “You should have kicked Columbia’s ass right into fucking orbit. In the old days you’d have eaten him for breakfast. I can’t believe any daughter of mine has turned into such a goddamned liberal wimp. ”

  “These are the new days, Father,” Justine said calmly. “And I’m not the one out of place and time.” Inside she was seething that he’d say such a thing anywhere, let alone in front of the Investigator. Even Paula Myo, usually so composed, looked uncomfortable at Gore’s outburst.

  “Just telling you the way it is, girl. If your dead boyfriend is fucking with your emotions you should get your memory of him wiped out of your brain. I can’t afford you to be weak, not now.”

  “I’ll certainly consider eliminating anything I find distasteful from my life.” She sometimes wondered if Gore was still human enough to remember and understand a concept like love, there had been so many adaptations made to his body.

  “That’s more like it,” he said, chuckling. “You know Columbia is going to come at you six ways from hell after the LA Galactic screwup? He wants Paula here out of the picture permanently, and while he’s at it he’d like the Senate to turn into a nice little Soviet parliament, voting for him unanimously every time.”

  “It’s not Columbia you have to worry about,” Paula said.

  Justine and Gore broke off their little contest of wills to look at the Investigator.

  “I believe I know the real reason Thompson was killed.”

  “And you haven’t fucking told me?” Gore snapped.

  “For almost the entire time I was in the Directorate I lobbied for all the goods shipped to Far Away to be examined by police-style inspectors. It was blocked by the Executive every time, until Thompson rammed the proposal through for me.”

  “And the Starflyer killed him for it,” Gore said. “We knew that.”

  “Just before he was killed, Thompson called me. He said he’d found out who had been blocking my requests. Nigel Sheldon.”

  “That can’t be right,” Justine said automatically. “Sheldon made the whole Commonwealth possible. He’s not going to try to undermine it.”

  “Not voluntarily,” Gore said. Even with his golden skin making any normal expression impossible, it was obvious the notion troubled him. “But as I understand it, Bradley Johansson always claimed he was enslaved by the alien.”

  “I’ve replayed the recording of Kazimir’s last minute in the Carralvo terminal several times now,” Paula said. “He appeared to know
the assassin. In fact, he was delighted to see him. It was almost as if they were old friends.”

  “No.” Justine shook her head, rejecting the whole idea. “I can’t believe anybody could get to Sheldon. The security our family has around us and at our rejuvenation facilities is phenomenal. Sheldon’s will be even stronger.”

  “The Guardians claimed that President Doi was working for the Starflyer,” Paula said.

  “And what a load of crap that was.” Gore grunted. “If this Starflyer bastard can cut through Senate Security and Sheldon’s protection, it wouldn’t need to skulk about in the shadows; it’d already be our Führer.”

  “Then why was your son killed?” Paula asked. “Just for implementing the cargo searches? Or because he uncovered the connection?”

  “All right,” Gore said reluctantly. “Assume Thompson came across some information which made him believe it. Did he say who gave him Sheldon’s name?”

  “No. He said the whole area was very unclear, it was politics at the highest level.”

  “Politics doesn’t have a high level,” Gore muttered; he turned to Justine.

  “This is down to you. We need to find out where Thompson got his information from.”

  “Dad, I don’t have anything like his contacts in the Senate.”

  “Jesus Christ, will you stop selling yourself short, girl? If I want to hear whining that pitiful I’ll visit a human rights lawyer on Orleans.”

  She threw up her hands. “Fine, I’ll go blundering around shouting out questions in a loud voice, and see if anyone comes to take a shot at me.”

  “More like it,” Gore said, his metallic lips lifting in an approximation of a smile.

  “To what end?” Paula asked.

  “What do you mean, what fucking end?”

  “What will you do if the Senator confirms it was Sheldon who has been blocking my requests?”

  “If it’s true, we’ll need to go to his senior family members and show them what’s happened. I expect they’ll have him re-lifed and updated from a secure memory store that predates his corruption—whenever that was.”

  “Do you think the Sheldon family will support you?”