Killswitch: (Cassandra Kresnov Book 3)

“From about when, did she say?’ asked An. The cruiser descended in a slow hover toward the yellow-striped transit zone beside the Columbo Park, past streetlights and lush foliage. Below, zone markers flashed warning lights, warding pedestrians along the parkside, strolling or jogging along the puddled path in the busy, early evening.

‘I don’t know,’ Sandy replied in mild frustration. ‘We didn’t talk about that.’ Mentally aligning the cruiser’s CPU com-systems with her own uplinks, a sernivisual scrawl of flashing numerics and graphics across her innersight. She was having trouble finding a transmission package she liked, one that was compatible with her encryption and Ari’s carrier boosters. With a bump of wheels, the cruiser touched down. Navcomp displays on the dash switched to road-navigation, the lights on the zone markers stopped flashing, and the cruiser eased forward on automatic, along the one-lane departure road that cut into the park’s perimeter. Behind, the next cruiser was descending, and the zone markers began blinking once more as the local air-traffic grid guided them in.

‘Then what did you talk about?’ An persisted, implacably curious.

‘We just talked! About … stuff.’

‘Stuff.’

‘Girl stuff,’ she said pointedly. She almost never invoked that particular piece of gender-territorialism. Take a hint, An.

‘`I’m in love with my best friend but she doesn’t want to sleep with me because she’s straight and artificial’ girl stuff?’

Sandy restrained exasperation with difficulty. ‘Look, just because you have this puerile, masculine fascination for lesbian sexuality …’

‘Gee, Sandy,’ An deadpanned, ‘what are you saying? That I’m heterosexual?’

‘This is very serious to me, Ari! It’s not a game.’

‘I …’ Ari blinked in consternation. ‘I never said it was a game, when did I say it was a … ?’ He broke off as navcomp abruptly slammed on the brakes-a careless jogger running across the road, Sandy saw immediately, registered at once by the cruiser’s ranger and road sensors. ‘Fucking pedestrians,’ said An matter-of-factly as the cruiser re-commenced, ‘some people in this city should be required to get a licence just for stepping out the fucking door.’

The Fast Curry outlet was jammed with traffic, of course-aircars packed nose-to-tail along the left lane where the one-way road became two lanes, and ten more queued behind. Canvas awnings were stretched across half the road, the far right lane left clear to rejoin the main, parkside highway up ahead. On the opposite side of the low, one-storey restaurant buildings, many diners sat at tables beneath similar awnings, eating before a view of beautiful, rain-wet gardens and lawns, and passing pedestrians. Several cars departed ahead, and the lane edged slowly forward. Sandy glanced over her shoulder as the next cruiser behind boxed them in.

‘Wonderful ambush spot,’ she remarked.

‘Yeah, well I’m hungry enough to risk it. I just wish the takeaway joints could put themselves up the top of tall buildings or something, so we don’t even have to land to pick up dinner. We’d just fly through.’

‘And get our curry splattered all over the windshield?’

‘Yeah, I wasn’t thinking at three hundred kilometres per hour, genius. We’d hover.’

‘I don’t think a curry house could pay the rent eighty storeys up,’ Sandy remarked, happy that the conversation had moved along. ‘Unless they charged about sixty Feds per meal.’

‘Hmm.’ Ari considered that. Drummed briefly on the steering grips with his fingers. ‘So d’you think she’s jealous of me? Or of us, I mean?’ Sandy scowled at him. ‘What?’ An protested. ‘It’s important, right? I’m asking!’

The queue bumped up another space, then another. ‘I don’t know, An, I honestly just don’t know.’

‘I mean, I guess that must have hurt, huh?’ An appeared quite intrigued at the prospect. ‘Although we don’t … you know … we don’t carry on together like some couples I could name …’

‘She’s not the jealous type,’ Sandy said firmly.

‘You’re certain? I mean, how would you know?’

‘Ari!’ Sandy stared at him, her eyes hard. ‘I don’t want to talk about it! Understand?’

An sighed. Sandy resumed fiddling with the com-systems until the cruiser reached its spot in the queue beneath the awning, then lowered the window as an Indian girl on skater-blades zoomed from a building door with a tray stacked with containers. Sandy paid with her civvie card, and An followed the cruiser ahead out and down the road. Sandy unpacked the meal onto the plastic holders always given to airborne customers, and finally lined up a com-sequence that worked for her.

‘I got it,’ she said, ‘patch me in.’

An touched a few markers on a display screen, aligning his own carrier boosters … on internal visual, Sandy could see the cruiser’s CPU com-matrix reconfiguring for long-range transmissions. An dialed up the destination and in a flash, the signal sorted and multitranslated through a dozen encryption and security walls to connect with CSA HQ’s own central com network, with an ease and precision that even Sandy had to respect. An’s codework was as eclectic and individual as An himselfimpenetrably so, she’d heard many fellow codeworkers complain. On some subconscious level that very few straights or GIs could access or analyse, An’s conceptual brain simply worked differently to everyone else’s. As a GI, she possessed far greater raw processing capability than An ever could. But as a straight, if impressively augmented, human, Ari’s consistently baffling mental processes gave him an edge that very few GIs could hope to match-in individuality, and uniqueness.

‘It’ll take a few seconds for the relay-satellite to acquire Mekong’s receptor dish,’ he warned, brow furrowed with concentration as his intent eyes studied the display screen. The cruiser took a left turn on automatic, away from the main highway junction, and on toward the next transition zone. ‘The Third Fleet’s been a little jumpy lately, I hope they haven’t been fiddling with basic access codes or we might not get in …

Sandy handed Ari his tray, opening her own and cracking the lids. The smell of steaming curry filled the interior. She broke off a piece of pappadum and munched, waiting. The signal connected.

‘This is Mekong com-three, please identify?’

‘Hello, Mekong,’ said An, ‘this is CSA special operative Googly. I believe Captain Reichardt is expecting my call.’

There was a few seconds’ pause for transmission and encryptionprocessing delay. Then, ‘Hello Googly, please hold.’

The cruiser pulled up behind the one in front, which was in turn behind three more aircars waiting at the transition zone-on weekday evenings, takeaway fly-ins were always crowded.

‘Hey,’ said An in dismay, gazing down at his meal, ‘I ordered lamb kashmiri, not rogan josh. The most sophisticated goddamn infotech city in the history of humanity, and still they can’t get a fucking takeaway order right.’

‘Would you prefer butter chicken? I like rogan josh.’

They swapped, as Sandy knew they would-Ari loved butter chicken. The cruiser bumped up a space as ahead an aircar rose into the air and past the parkside treetops. Wheels retracting into the underside before accelerating off toward a busy overhead skylane, soaring black dots against a brilliant sunset of towering, orange and pink cumulous cloud. Sandy’s uplink clicked back to life.

‘Hello, Googly, this is Captain Reichardt.’

‘Oh, um …’ Ari swallowed his mouthful of butter chicken fast, ‘… hello Captain, I have Snowcat here to speak to you.’

‘Commander Kresnov?’

‘I’m here, Captain,’ said Sandy, ‘you’ll have to excuse the poor speech clarity, we just stopped to get some dinner and we’re starved.’

‘I was under the impression that you were keeping clear of uplink networks, Commander?’

‘Yes, sir, I was, but that problem seems to have been solved for the moment. Besides, I’ve got some help in making this a particularly secure line.’ With a glance at An, who was eating again-quickly, in case he was once more required to speak. ‘Captain, I understand that Director Ibrahim has been in contact with you regarding certain contingency plans of mine.’

There was a pause from the other end that lasted too long to be just transmission delay. She took the chance to shovel another mouthful, and chewed quickly.

‘Yeah,’ said the Captain. His Texan drawl seemed suddenly stronger to her ear, and she could almost hear the pained wince in his voice. ‘Well … I gotta say, Commander, you’ve got a pretty interesting notion of what `contingency’ means. ‘

‘The Fifth Fleet has committed an illegal, hostile act, Captain. We only seek to protect what is ours.’

Reichardt’s reluctant sigh was clearly audible over the link. ‘Ifol- lowed you down this road once before Commander, you might recall. Didn’t work out all so beautifully now, did it?’

‘On the contrary, Captain, it worked marvellously. There were of course personal consequences for yourself, and your career … and doubtless what I ask of you this time will have similar ramifications. If that matters to you.’

‘Don’t even go there, Commander. The fact is, it’s not just me up here. I have other captains, and I’ll need to consult. This is one call I simply don’t have the authority to make alone. And I’ll need proof. ‘

‘What kind of proof, sir?’

‘Proof that Duong’s murder was all a setup, as your people claim. Proof that the Fifth is clearly in league with the setup, and deserves what’s coming to them. They might be arseholes, Commander, but they’re our arseholes. We’re not going to call down bad things upon their heads on the sayso of some bunch of downworld foreigners, beggin’ your pardon, ma’am. ‘

‘I understand entirely,’ Sandy said calmly. Fleet loyalty, he meant. She was asking the Third to be complicit in a military action against their brethren. Reichardt’s people and the third Fleet might be as politically opposed as two groups of people were likely to get, but still, she had no illusions of the scale of what she was asking for upon any Fleet man or woman’s conscience. ‘We’re in the process of acquiring that proof now.’

‘Better make it real good, Commander. I’m a clever man, but I ain’t no miracle worker, you understand?’

CSA operatives found Enrico Kalaji shortly after midnight, shot through the head in what appeared to be his safehouse apartment in downtown Mananakorn District. The shot had awoken neighbouring residents-the bullet had passed through the corridor beyond and sev eral adjoining rooms, just missing a man asleep in bed. Ari wasn’t happy.

‘Damn it,’ he muttered as they climbed from the cruiser atop its rooftop pad, ‘we nearly had it. Just another thirty fucking minutes and we’d have had it.’

Sandy nodded tiredly, gazing about at the view from a mere eight storeys up, atop the Mananakorn residential building. Since dinner that evening, they’d been constantly on the move, acting on pieces of information, codes, suspicions and guesswork that had taken them right across Tanusha and back several times over. They’d paid visits to two of Ari’s friendly underground code breakers to analyse bits of Kalaji’s gear taken from the State Department network that neither Ari nor Sandy were familiar with. Then there’d been a blackmarket weapons expert (in a noisy bar down a dark alley, of course), then a suburban family man they’d dragged from dinner with promises to tell his new fiancee about the previous conviction and probation for smuggling if he didn’t explain certain key details about the loopholes in Callayan customs it seemed Kalaji had dealt with in order get the rocket launchers through shipping inspections.

And so on, constantly cross-referencing their latest discoveries with the hundred-plus CSA operatives also searching, hoping for new clues and directing regional police to search those locations they didn’t have the manpower to cover. An, as Sandy had already seen, knew Tanusha inside and out, and had avenues to so many irregular sources of information, she couldn’t help but wonder how he found the time to maintain contact with them all. Or maybe, she’d found herself figuring at about 10 PM, all these shady figures deferred to him on reputation alone. Some of them clearly expected favours … which as far as she knew the CSA operating manual, were illegal to grant to anyone, least of all convicted or suspected felons, as the majority of his contacts appeared to be. Which cast new light entirely upon An’s unpopularity among certain more formal, starch-collared segments of the CSA hierarchy …

The building they’d now arrived on reminded Sandy somewhat of her and Vanessa’s old home in Santiello-a modest eight-storey residential building, with a skyport on the roof with awnings to keep off the worst of the Tanushan rain and hail, and garden boxes aligned decoratively about the railings. About them, the suburbs slept, streetlights smothered beneath the profusion of semitropical trees. The air smelled heavy with recent rain, their boots splashing on rooftop puddles as they walked. Distant lightning lit the horizon with discontented rumbling, a sharp, dark outline of towers against brilliant flashes of blue.

The crime scene was a square of space by the edge of the rooftop, where a narrow gap between a decorative bush and a rising wall afforded a clear view toward the Mananakorn central business district, slightly less than one and a half kilometres away. About that small square, scanner wands had been erected, sweeping near walls, bushes and puddles with searching lines of light. Elsewhere on the rooftop, CSA agents swept with handheld devices, or entered data into compslates, or stood about and watched, or talked with colleagues. One man stood at another gap between bushes, and gazed out at the rising cluster of Mananakorn towers, alive with light.

‘Anil,’ said An, leading the way over. Sandy detoured slightly to the ‘crime scene,’ vision-shifting through multiple spectrums in the vain hope of seeing something the wands couldn’t. Agent Chandaram turned to greet them, eyes refocusing from distant thought. ‘That where it happened?’

‘We lined up all the holes in the apartment,’ Chandaram said wearily, ‘and the trajectory points straight back to there.’ Pointing at the crime scene. Sandy stopped behind the sweeping wands, gazing out through the gap between bush and wall. Her eyes found the residential building in question, then zoomed upon the target windowtwenty-five storeys, second from the left. Her visual zoom was impressive, but she still couldn’t see the bullet hole, fifteen hundred metres away. ‘There’s no apparent platform upon which to rest a tripod or other support. Just the railing.’

The railing around the rooftop perimeter was wet and narrow. Sandy shook her head. ‘No use if the shooter was a straight.’

‘Our trajectory matches aren’t entirely perfect over this distance,’ Chandaram continued, ‘but they appear to indicate the shot was fired by someone standing upright.’

‘With no brace support with a heavy sniper rifle,’ Ari murmured. ‘Hell of a shot.’ And he raised an eyebrow in Sandy’s direction, questioningly. Sandy looked for a moment longer at the trajectory. Considered the weapon in question from Investigations’ initial ballistics report, and the prevailing conditions. And nodded, once.

‘There’s four people in Tanusha I know of who could make that shot,’ she said. ‘Me, Ramoja, Rhian and Jane.’

‘You have an alibi,’ Chandaram said drily. Sandy gathered from his expression that he was not about to leap to conclusions. Plenty in the CSA, it seemed, didn’t trust Major Ramoja and the League Embassy contingent either. ‘Not the other League GIs in the embassy?’

‘No.’ Sandy shook her head. ‘Not high-des enough.’

Chandaram frowned. ‘A GI’s designation affects accuracy? I didn’t think intellect and physical capability were linked?’

Sandy shrugged. ‘Just does. I’m not a psych, I couldn’t tell you why.’

‘There are root strands of lateral processing capability that meld with basic motor functions,’ said An. Sandy gave him a blank look … she should have known An would know more about GI neuroscience than she did herself. ‘You see it in straights too-most of the great athletes are smart. Great soldiers too, look at Major Rice. Physical performance is partly a function of spatial processing-the, um, awareness of a body’s position and motion within a three-dimensional space. The broader an intellect, in terms of raw neuroprocessing capability, the broader the perimeter field and thus the, um, more minuscule, precision adjustments required to shoot or run or … or whatever.’

‘The Parliament massacre,’ said Chandaram, nodding slowly.

An nodded. ‘Yeah, sure … Sandy versus forty lower-des GIs is really a little unfair on the regs, they never had much of a chance.’

‘I knew their patterns,’ Sandy said quietly, gazing out at the view. ‘I helped write some of their patterns. It wasn’t raw ability, it was knowledge and memory. If the League had trusted lower-des GIs enough to impart a bit more knowledge upon them, they’d be that much more effective. But then, maybe my defection proves that they’re right not to.’

‘Hang on,’ said Chandaram, ‘it’s still a static sniper shot. Surely a lower-designation GI can hit a still target just as well as a higher-des?’

‘This is the eighth storey,’ said Sandy. ‘The target’s on the twentyfifth. It’s a rising trajectory, the windows were waist-height, that means there was no chance to hit the target sitting down. He’d have been standing, and with Kalaji being so jumpy, standing means moving, or pacing, more likely. The windows were reflective, the air’s humid, and the shot had to be a head shot to make certain. Too many variables. The real difference between a high- and low-des GI is the ability to process multiple strands of information. The rest is minorthat’s the big difference.’

‘But Rhian Chu has the right designation?’ Chandaram asked.

‘Rhian’s not a sniper,’ said Sandy. Lying through her teeth as she said it. An would know. Chandaram wouldn’t. She hoped. ‘She could do it, but it was never a specialty or preference, and her spatial processing isn’t as good as mine. At this range, in the dark, she might miss. Ramoja’s a perfectionist, he’d never have taken that chance with her. He’d do it himself.’ If the League had a cause to execute Enrico Kalaji, that was. Recent experience in these matters had taught all concerned never to rule anything out. To Chandaram’s side, Ari’s expression never altered. ‘And besides, we had a deal. If anything strange went down, she was going to contact me. She’d never have taken an order like this without telling me first.’

Chandaram looked at her curiously. Rhian, it occurred to Sandy, hadn’t killed anyone for quite some time. Not since Dark Star, anyhow. As always with Rhian, it was difficult to know exactly how these things affected her. Possibly Rhian wasn’t aware herself. Sandy suspected personally that that absence of death from her old friend’s life had done wonders for her new growth and depth as a person. Death required justifications. Rationalisations of why it was all proper and necessary. Rationalisations that held a person back, forcing them to believe things that weren’t necessarily true, for the sake of continued mental stability. She doubted, now, that Rhian could even do something like this, whatever her orders. Surely she would flinch. Surely she would ask questions, and wonder at the morality of what she was being ordered to do. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking, and Rhian’s morality continued to revolve around the old soldiers’ creed that all morality came from following orders, and nothing else mattered.

Damn, she hated leaving Rhian in their hands. They could destroy her, or corrupt her irreparably. Force her to do something that her new, awakening conscience would punish her for, for the rest of her life. And if they hurt her, or otherwise damaged her with their Machiavellian bullshit … well, Jane was not going to be the only high-des GI in Tanusha with cause to fear for her safety.

‘We’ve been monitoring the League Embassy around the clock,’ said Chandaram. ‘Ramoja hasn’t left … but then, he’s snuck out before without us knowing, he might not have even been there in the first place.’

His expression remained curiously unreadable. Most senior CSA types tended to swagger. Particularly the Indians, who maintained the very cool, suave demeanour at large in that subculture at the timealong with breezy sports jackets, open-necked shirts, swept-back hair and glossy moustaches. Even Sandy’s old buddy Naidu went for that Director of CSA Intelligence and more than a hundred years old, so it wasn’t something sparkling new and Tanushan, evidently. Chandaram wore a plain, grey suit (none of the popular cream or even bananayellow that had come recently into style), displayed no showy silver chain beneath his open collar, and disdained even the moustache. To the best of Sandy’s knowledge, he remained single at the age of fortyseven. Rumour had it that his last steady partner had left him two years ago, during the last major crisis, when he hadn’t come home for a week without calling. Rumour also had it that he didn’t sleep. Sandy didn’t believe that. Even she had to sleep … if just for a few hours.

‘The one person who did leave,’ Chandaram continued, ‘was Rhian Chu. Unaccompanied. She walked, she seems to like public transport.’ Of course she did, thought Sandy-more colour and movement to enjoy. Fresh air to smell and shop windows to look in along the way. And the other reason of course … ‘We lost her after about fifteen minutes,’ Chandaram continued. A faint smile appeared at his lips for the first time. ‘We always lose her. You’ll have to show me how you guys do that.’

‘I will,’ said Sandy. ‘Rhian’s been getting a lot of jobs lately. She’s a less recognisable courier for one thing, and she likes being loose in the city.’

‘And you haven’t mentioned the person who actually did it,’ Ari said pointedly.

‘The key suspect, Ariel,’ Chandaram replied, with a raised eyebrow in his direction. ‘I discount no possibilities. League activity both in the Embassy and connected to it has been intense of late, as you know. We can’t rule out some involvement in the whole Kalaji affair.’

Sandy frowned at him. ‘What the hell would they have to gain by setting the Fleet at our throats? They’ve wanted Federation power out of the hands of Earth for as long as the League’s existed.’

‘Or maybe they simply wish to sow disharmony,’ Chandaram replied coolly. ‘A Federation civil war could finish the job they started, without costing them anything. Anyhow, it’s not my job to speculate, only to join the dots.’

‘I think they’re looking for Jane,’ said An, lips pursed as he gazed out at the lights with faint frustration. ‘It fits the search pattern.’ Chandaram’s look was questioning. ‘I, um, had some of their seeker functions intercepted and analysed by some friends,’ Ari explained. Anita and Pushpa, Sandy was willing to bet that meant. ‘It’s the kind of pattern that they’d use if … well, I’ll explain later.’

‘We found one of Kalaji’s safehouses an hour back,’ Sandy added for Chandaram’s benefit. ‘It’d been broken into … maybe League codes were used, I couldn’t be sure, they’re better at disguising how they penetrate the databases now they know I’m around to analyse whatever you guys pick up. An thinks Ramoja was trying to find Kalaji just as we were.’

‘Maybe he did,’ said Chandaram. Nodding toward the Mananakorn towers.

‘Or maybe he was just hoping to get Jane’s whereabouts from him,’ An added. ‘If Kalaji was Jane’s coordinator.’

Chandaram shrugged. ‘And maybe he did that too.’ Find Kalaji, and wait for Jane to kill him, Sandy realised he meant. Thus finding Jane. Or would he?

‘It’s too easy to be a sniper in this city,’ Sandy disagreed. ‘Even GIs can’t see sniper bullets. He wouldn’t know where to look …’ She broke off, feeling suddenly cold. A red tinge descended upon her vision. Time slowed, and the dark landscape of sprawling city lights transformed to a mass of multispectrum colour and motionhighlighted traffic …

‘Sandy?’ said Ari, recognising that look. Sandy stared at him, seeing only a humanoid, face-shaped blob of heat-colouring and fine textures. Blood thumping in his jugular as he became himself alarmed. Eyes darting in small, involuntary motions as minor muscles twitched -a most un-GI-like phenomenon, involuntary muscle spasms … ‘Sandy, what’s wrong?’

‘Get off the roof,’ Sandy told him. ‘You too, Anil. Get off now. Don’t hurry, just walk calmly.’

An didn’t question, but merely put a companionable hand on Chandaram’s shoulder, and began walking. Sandy took up position on Chandaram’s other side. From a distance, she hoped, it would look innocent enough. They walked to the upper entrance lobby, through the sliding doors that were being kept open for investigators, and inside. Only when they were down the stairs, and standing in the hallway of the eighth floor, did Sandy allow herself to feel safe. And furious.

‘Goddamn fucking stupid,’ she muttered to herself, taking the pistol from her jacket pocket for the simple comfort of feeling its weight in her hand. ‘I should have thought.’

‘You …’ Ari looked puzzled. ‘You don’t think … ?’

‘She’s a goddamn ruthless bitch, An. We were standing right there, right where she’d have known we’d come to. And I just let us fucking stand there, in full view of any number of sniper-nests for several kilometres around … Jesus!’

‘That’s a big risk,’ said Chandaram with a frown. ‘Even if she fires, we’ve got any number of airborne vehicles in the region …even the mobile scanners can get some idea of trajectories on a moment’s notice.’

‘I don’t want to get into a chase with her, Anil.’ She stared at him from point-blank range. ‘No chases. She’ll kill innocent people just to ward us off, I know her!’

‘With all respect, you only met her once. You don’t think you’re maybe just mad at her?’

‘Sure! Sure I’m fucking mad at her, I’m furious! And when she goes down, she’ll go down in a nice, quiet little ambush somewhere. She won’t know what hit her. That’s the only way I’m prepared to do this because it’s the only way that won’t endanger countless innocent bystanders, do you get me?’

‘Sure,’ said Chandaram, eyeing her cautiously. ‘I understand.’

A bleep in Sandy’s newly activated network receptor informed her of an incoming message. She held up a hand to forestall further conversation, indicating to her eardrum and taking several steps aside in the hall. ‘Kresnov,’ she said aloud.

‘Hi, Cap,’ came a familiar, mild voice in her ear.

‘Rhi,’ Sandy formulated silently. Depending upon the content of the conversation, she wasn’t yet sure if she wanted Chandaram to know who she was talking to. ‘How’s things?’ An and Chandaram resumed conversation, in terse, low tones … An insisting that Jane was the most likely culprit, and Chandaram agreeing, but refusing to rule out any possibilities. Sandy wished she could follow multiple conversations as easily as she could process multiple data-streams, but thanks to the vagaries of neurostructure, it didn’t always work that way.

‘Things are fine.’ Rhian certainly didn’t sound very bothered by anything … but then, with Rhian, that was as normal. ‘I suppose you know I went out from the Embassy? The CSA had several people following me … or I assume they were CSA. ‘

‘They were,’ said Sandy. ‘Where did you go?’

‘I was given an errand to go and talk to some underground person. One of the old League network contacts here, one of the ones the CSA didn’t catch yet. ‘

‘Oh,’ said Sandy. Rhian’s patience in getting to the point could test a less-patient person’s nerves. ‘Was that an interesting errand?’

‘No, actually. It was extremely boring. This person doesn’t appear to be connected in any way to recent events. In fact, I can’t see why I was sent on this trip at all.’ She paused. Sandy could feel it coming-she knew Rhian that well. ‘Which is why I didn’t go on the trip. I followed Major Ramoja instead. ‘

‘You tailed your superior?’

‘Yes. ‘

‘Um … why?’

‘Because he seemed to be going somewhere much more interesting, ‘ said Rhian. ‘And because I suspected I was being sent on this other trip in order to keep me out of the way. I think Ramoja knows there’s a limit on things where he can trust me, where Jane is concerned. So I guessed he must be going somewhere interesting, if he was trying to get rid of me. ‘

It was a very frank admission, even by Rhian’s standards. Despite her faith in Rhian, Sandy couldn’t help but feel her trepidation rising. ‘Where did Ramoja go, Rhi?’

‘I don’t know, I lost him.’ Sandy repressed a snort of exasperation. ‘But before I lost him, I got the distinct impression that he was heading toward Canas. ‘

Major Ramoja, the senior League intelligence officer on Callay, headed for Canas? Maybe he had an appointment … but if so, would he have gone with so much covert sneaking around? No, if one of the bigwigs in Canas wanted to bring Ramoja over for one of the usual covert chit-chats, they’d have sent a car themselves, and not left anything up to Ramoja at all-after all, it was the Callayan bigwigs who would pay the political or purely popular price if news got out of such secret dealings with dastardly League GIs who should have remained safely contained within their embassy grounds.

‘Cap,’ Rhian continued, in much the same unfazed, contemplative tone as before, ‘I heard that Enrico Kalaji was murdered just now?’

‘That’s right,’ Sandy said cautiously.

‘Well, I was thinking,’ said Rhian, ‘that maybe Jane’s cleaning up after herself. I mean, Earth obviously planted certain people in Tanusha to help her with her mission. But if those people got caught, they’d spill everything … and, I mean, you’re looking for evidence right now, aren’t you?’

‘That’s exactly right,’ Sandy agreed. Unwilling to interject anything else at this point, least she break Rhian’s surprising momentum.

‘So Kalaji was coordinating Jane, and now Kalaji’s dead. But who was coordinating Kalaji?’

‘No,’ said Sandy, ‘we’ve got his direct superior Samarang in custody, he’s already confessed … ‘ and she stopped, realising where Rhian was going even before she interrupted.

‘And who coordinated Samarang.?’ said Rhian. ‘I mean, Secretary Grey didn’t even need to be directly involved, did he? He could still prove useful in helping the CSA track everything back to Earth, simply because he’s the only one who knew what Samarang, Kalaji and anyone else in the State Department was doing at all times, and how they operated. ‘

‘Rhi, thank you very much. I’ll be there as soon as possible. ‘

She disconnected, and turned back on Ari. An and Chandaram broke off their conversation, seeing her expression.

‘Ari,’ she said, ‘we got a situation.’

‘Could you be a little more specific?’ said the head of S-2 Security over the cruiser’s speakers.

‘That’s all I can tell you at the present time,’ Sandy replied. ‘I’m recommending a red alert, but keep it low profile. No visible guard rotations, no shifting your regular schedule, nothing.’

They were inbound now, toward Canas, in one of the low-altitude emergency lanes, speed nudging six hundred kilometres per hour as towers and suburbs fled by to the sides and below. Sandy had the Ranchu-15 assault weapon An kept for contingencies in her lap, frequency adjusted to her personal interface uplinks.

‘It’s kind of difficult to implement a red alert without it immediately becoming visible,’ retorted the S-2 chief. ‘If I knew what kind of threat you were talking about, it would make it easier for me to counter. ‘

Sandy threw a look at An, who dealt with bureaucrat-oriented security probably more often than she did, and had done so over a much longer period. Ari shrugged … which meant he didn’t think they were any more likely than any other unit to panic and fuck it up if she told them. Sandy’s return look was darkly sardonic, and not entirely comforted. ‘Hello, Chief,’ she said after that pause, ‘my information includes the possibility of a high-designation GI in close infiltration position. The suspected target is the Secretary of State.’

Now it was the S-2 chief’s turn to pause before replying. Then, ‘Uh, thank you, Snowcat. Will … uh, look forward to your arrival. ‘

‘Roger that, our ETA is just over a minute. Don’t do anything stupid, this one’s very intelligent, do you understand me?’

‘Copy, Snowcat. ‘ The connection went dead. Sandy flipped the cruiser’s dash screen onto the secure S-2 feed from Canas-it showed Secretary Grey’s residence, complete with a multitude of automated and manned security posts and devices, all in real time. She touched the screen, widening the field of view to the near Canas neighbourhood, repressing her irritation that she could no longer use her uplinks with any degree of security. If this was Jane, and Jane knew she was coming … well, the only thing that prevented Jane from using the killswitch codes was that she didn’t know where Sandy was.

‘I’ve got a good feed,’ said An from the driver’s seat, eyes slightly unfocused as he concentrated upon the mental picture.

‘Lucky you,’ muttered Sandy, trying to make out the limited, two-dimensional display upon the dash.

‘The barrier elements look secure, I can’t see any sign of branching.’ His eyes flicked briefly back to the cruiser’s controls, as the CPU began to reduce velocity, the descent-path down to Canas curving away ahead. ‘I bet S-2 didn’t see that coming. Every security agency in the city just started to think no one was targeting our senior figures any longer.’

‘Well, for a while there, they were right.’ Sandy tried holding the Ranchu in her left hand, and winced with irritation as the cast-bound fingers and thumb refused to properly grasp the handle. Well, so long as it didn’t slow her loading magazines … ‘What do you think about Grey? Wilful compliance, or basic stupidity?’

‘I think the first implies the second, doesn’t it?’ Ari replied with heavy irony. ‘But I never had him pinned as that pro-Earth. Pathologically anti-League, maybe, but that’s something else entire …’

‘What’ll he do,’ Sandy asked calmly, ‘if the bullets start flying?’

‘My best guess …’ which was what An knew she was asking for, ‘… would be simple survival. No tricks up that guy’s sleeve, he’s not smart enough.’

‘You can always underestimate a man.’

‘Yeah, ahem …’ Ari mock-cleared his throat, sarcastically, ‘… in this city, amongst politicians, I find the reverse is more usually true.’

The descent brought them in toward a roadside transition zone just outside the tall, brick Canas perimeter wall. They landed between roadside trees under the watchful eye of the northern gate security post, then pulled out to rejoin the perimeter road’s traffic as soon as Central allowed. The security post checked vehicle ID and scanned faces and irises at the gate, while the road and wall-implanted sensors swept the entire cruiser from all angles for anything suspicious. Then the metal gates swung aside, and they cruised onto a narrow, cobblestoned street between familiar, picturesque stone walls.

‘Shit, how would she get in?’ Sandy murmured, half to herself. Just leaping the walls was impossible-when they said all airspace above Canas was impenetrable without authorisation, that meant right down to millimetres above the perimeter walls, triple redundancy with three different kinds of detection technology.

‘She had an inside source at the State Department,’ said An, ‘it’s long been suspected they had more access to Canas security codes than they ought.’ The cruiser’s suspension did not enjoy the cobbles-aircars were heavy, and not designed primarily for ground transportation anyway. An drove on manual between narrow walls, pulling aside once as an oncoming vehicle edged over to let them past. Picturesque creepers overgrew stone walls in the yellow wash of a streetlight. Then a little shop and a barrestaurant that Sandy recalled having enjoyed a nice meal and flamenco music at several weeks ago … unexpectedly, she found herself missing her house, and her previous relatively peaceful, orderly evenings as a Canas resident. Then An followed a navcomp direction, up an even narrower street overhung by a ceiling of tree branches and bending all the way.

‘Oh, this is fucking lovely,’ An muttered, leaning forward as he drove to peer ahead and upward in trepidation. ‘Blind corners, no other escape routes … gee I love this neighbourhood, doesn’t it just make you feel so secure?’ An, Sandy knew, had a somewhat different perspective on Canas’s picture-postcard charms than her.

‘You just don’t like any security you haven’t organised yourself,’ she reprimanded him.

‘I’d feel safer letting the Beetle shoot an apple off my head.’ ‘The Beetle’ was CSA Assistant Director N’Darie, whom Ari did not get along with at all.

‘It’s so pretty, though.’

‘So’s lightning.’ As if on cue, the sky above lit in a racing blue flash beyond the treetops. An bit back a curse in what Sandy reckoned would have been Hebrew, if he’d let it come out properly. Ari professed to being neither religious nor superstitious. Sandy repressed a smile.

Around a bend on the left, broad gates opened upon the cruiser’s approach. An paused them at another checkpoint, where a pair of S-2 security checked IDs (and gazed curiously at Sandy, and her new brunette look) before waving them past. The drive was long through lush gardens, and ended in a circle about a central fountain, with a wide apron to allow large VIP vehicles to park and unload multiple passengers and security.

An parked the cruiser short of the apron, and they got out. Boots crunching on the driveway gravel, Sandy slowly scanned about as they walked, while Ari’s gaze remained distant, focused on his network uplinks. The Secretary of State’s private residence was of course as much government facility as house-a grand mansion of stone and latticed windows, enveloped within a veritable jungle of lush, wet greenery. Sandy remained unsure about the foliage-the theory was that tight, enclosed spaces reduced the greater threat of long-range attack with high-powered weapons, and increased the risk to the theoretical attacker by forcing them to get close, right in where security, and lethal defences, were tightest. Against most attackers, Sandy reckoned the theory was sound. But there were some types of soldiers in the world, she knew from personal experience, who did their best work up tight and close. Flitting from shadow to shadow.

‘I think maybe we need a jungle warfare specialist,’ Ari muttered at her side as they left the crunching gravel and strode up the paved path to an engraved wooden door.

The S-2 security chief-a squat, sturdy man named Sundaram- met them in the stone-paved hall. He looked nervous past his tough exterior, eyes darting with barely concealed anxiety. ‘What can you tell me?’ he said with hushed earnestness, looking hard from Sandy to An. ‘I’ve tried to keep it quiet … I’ve isolated Secretary Grey in his central office, it’s the most defensible room in the building, we’ve cut down unnecessary movement and limited staff access. The perimeter is one hundred per cent tight and the yard-grid is all fully activated. I don’t see how she could get through that way.’

Sandy didn’t see a way either, but she didn’t say so. She didn’t want anyone to get relaxed in any direction.

‘My bet is,’ said An, ‘if she’s here, she’s already breached the perimeter … she’s got access codes and God-knows what else we don’t know about. Can you track your staff? Do you know the whereabouts and identity of every person in the building and surrounds?’

Sundaram nodded shortly. ‘Yes, and I’ve had everyone doublechecked visually, no false IDs. I’ve got people quietly sweeping storage spaces and rechecking delivery manifests. It’s possible she got in a while ago and is just lying quietly somewhere …’

‘Wait, wait, wait,’ said Sandy, holding up a hand. From the look in Sundaram’s eyes, and the edgy looks on the faces of several of the S2s behind him, she thought she could see where this was going … and it wasn’t anywhere healthy. ‘Look, I think you’ve done a great job. Seriously. I know S-2 runs a tight ship, and with the measures you’ve put in place so far, I think you’ve got it all covered. We need to remain alert and ready, but let’s not get carried away here. She’s a GI. She’s not a mythical spirit, she doesn’t have supernatural powers, she’s just a regular, run-of-the-mill GI like me. Okay?’

Sundaram nodded, not looking particularly happier at that decla ration. Doubtless he knew only too well that there was nothing regular nor run-of-the-mill about CDF Commander Kresnov. But he appeared then, nonetheless, to surreptitiously take a longer, deeper breath. From the high skylight above the stonework hall, came the heavy, pattering sound of raindrops. ‘Maybe,’ Sundaram resumed, ‘if there’s no immediate threat after all, we should just call in the heavy reinforcements.’

With a questioning look at Sandy in particular. Doubtless he had a couple of heavily armoured flyers in mind, with a full complement of troops to match.

‘No,’ said Sandy, with a slight but firm shake of the head. ‘We can’t be sure yet. Let’s leave it for a while longer, then reassess when we know more.’

‘Sure.’ Sundaram took another, longer breath. ‘Keep it flexible, we can do that. You two have the run of the place, just stay uplinked to the network so we don’t mistake you for infiltrators … I know, Commander, it’s not safe for you to be uplinked right now? That’s okay … just stay close to Mr. Ruben, if you please?’

‘I’ll do that,’ Sandy assured him. Sundaram nodded again, gratefully, then strode off, taking one of his juniors in tow. Sandy and Ari walked on, the raindrops upon the skylight ceiling overhead growing to a thunderous din, punctuated now by a booming grumble of thunder.

‘Very diplomatic,’ Ari complimented her as they entered the broad space at the hall’s end. Quiet, as the door to the hall shut behind. A bar-kitchen bench to the right, then a step down to broad windows leading onto a balcony that overlooked a courtyard surrounded by the lush gardens. Stepping up again to the right, where a dining room table overlooked those gardens from a higher vantage. ‘Great, more fucking windows.’

Ari drew the pistol from his shoulder holster, keeping close to the bar as he peered out at the garden foliage, rapidly becoming drenched in the downpour.

‘It’s okay,’ Sandy assured him, ‘I count three visible security, and more sensors than a gnat could fly through without having its testicles counted.’

‘The, um, rain won’t affect that?’ Waving a hand in that general direction.

‘Not unless Tanushan technology is shoddy crap, which I know it’s not.,, A staff woman in white shirt and dark pants hurried from a door with a tray of empty glasses and small plates. Paused in surprise to see Sandy and Ari with weapons, and then did a double-take to recognise Sandy, despite the dark hair. Flashed her a nervous smile, hurrying quickly to the bar to begin unloading cups and plates. Sandy beckoned An onward, down to the sunken lounge, then up three steps to the raised dining room. Ari followed, eyes continuing to dart anxiously toward the windows.

‘Fuck,’ Ari muttered quietly when close at her side, ‘did you see how jumpy Sundaram was?’

‘He’s okay,’ Sandy replied, just as quietly, as her gaze continued to sweep the dark, rainy gardens. ‘I was serious, I think he’s doing fine … and he’d be stupid not to be nervous. He’s sure a hell of a lot more cooperative than some other security types I could mention. I’m not going to start busting his balls now.’

‘Sandy,’ Ari said warningly, ‘what are you planning?’

‘I’m not planning anything,’ she said mildly.

‘Oh sure, right … I know that look, Sandy. You’re going to set a trap for her, aren’t you?’ Sandy made no comment. ‘Sandy, S-2 is positioned and trained to protect the Secretary of State, they’re not a combat unit …’

‘We might not get another chance,’ Sandy said simply.

‘Look …’ Ari raised both hands, expressively, ‘… I understand this is personal between you two, I understand you don’t like her, that you think she’s an … an affront to all civilised GI-kind …’

‘That’s bullshit,’ Sandy said shortly.

‘Is it? Is it really? Shit, Sandy, look, don’t insult my intelligence and don’t insult your own. You’re always accusing me of ideological leanings, why don’t you look in the mirror one day?’

‘I’m with the Callayan Defence Force, Am’ Sandy’s gaze never left the windows, the snub-nosed assault rifle effortlessly poised in her good hand with clear field of fire over the dining room table. ‘I’m defending Callay.’

‘I’m not a GI, Sandy.’ Pointing earnestly to his chest, with the beginnings of genuine temper. ‘These people aren’t. If we can scare her off without a confrontation, we should do it-we try and execute one of your Dark Star traps here, we’re liable to get good people killed!’

‘Ari, the longer we let this bitch wander Tanusha on her own, the higher the final death toll will be. This one kills people by the day, d’you understand that? We need to cut her operating time short, and that means now.’

‘Yeah?’ For one of the few times Sandy could remember, Ari looked genuinely, seriously pissed at her. ‘Well … well fuck it, I disagree!’

Sandy fixed him with a cool glance. ‘It’s a combat scenario. I rank you.’ Ari took a deep breath through his nose, looking like he’d just smelled something extremely unpleasant. ‘Now get me a sweep of the network and main floor keypoints, I’m going to check the perimeter and get a few things worked out with our S-2 friends. Can you do that?’

He didn’t reply immediately. Sandy merely waited, counting the seconds. ‘Yeah,’ Ari said finally, his tone hard. Just two seconds before the limit she’d set as her deadline. ‘I can do that.’

‘Good.’ She made off quickly down the three steps, headed for the door to the outside balcony. Ari stood in her wake and fumed.