The Second Sphere

In the altered-world aftermath of the interview, Nelson and Bryant gawked at the fuzzy, paused image on the link-up in stunned silence. Their mouths were slightly ajar. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, waiting for ridicule. Nelson sniffled and let his gaze fall to his starched, white shirt. I glanced at Malinda. She hovered expectantly on the edge of her seat, her palms on the table, her face unmoved. The silence reverberated. Then, Bryant clucked.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he asked. A contemptuous sneer appeared on his face. He blinked several times in succession. “We don’t have time for this.”

“There are other videos on this chip, and all of them are similar,” I said. “That’s a lot of trouble to go to for a practical joke. Newberry never struck me as the type of person who was about pranking the TSG.”

“I don’t think this is a joke,” Bryant said. “I think this is another deliberate attempt by the GR to throw us off their trail.”

“I disagree,” I said.

“Nelson?” Bryant said. “Your thoughts?”

“I’m a born skeptic,” he said, raising his eyes. “Occam’s Razor and all that. I’m not sure how it would be possible to keep a secret like this under wraps. Conspiracy theories have never played well with me.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be under wraps now, would it?” I said.

“We don’t even know who those people are,” Malinda said. “For all we know, they could be Newberry’s friends from college.”

“You really believe that?” I asked. There were too many snap judgments being made. Still, the only thing I had going for my argument was that Newberry was dead.

“Is there any way we can authenticate these interviews?” Nelson asked.

“Just by the distortion used during recording, it would probably be difficult to find the interviewees,” Bryant said. “He’s using top of the line technology to hide their identities. Maybe we can date and time authenticate them, maybe figure out where they took place. But it’s probably going to be hard to do anything beyond that.”

“So, let’s say that these videos are real,” I said. “Newberry’s dead. And what we have before us is a clear motive. Let’s say that the TSG has knowledge of these beings. Who the hell do we take this information to? Can we do anything with this?”

Muttering flew around the table. Bryant leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. He inhaled through his nose and let the breath out through his mouth. Malinda’s face twisted up into a wrinkled mass. Somehow, she was now a full partner in this case.

“That’s a damned fine question,” Bryant said.

“At the very least we have to tell Quincy about what we’ve found. We give him the information, then he can decide what to do with it,” I said.

“I think that’s a mistake.” Malinda raised her head high. “I don’t think that we should say anything to Quincy until we have these videos authenticated.”

“Normally, I would agree with you. But this isn’t some intel about a GR cell,” I said. “This is something totally different. We’ve got to tell him what we found.”

“And if this is some kind of hoax, what do we do? We’re going to be a bunch of ridiculed morons,” Malinda said.

“You agree that we should figure out whether this is real or not, don’t you?” I asked.

“But we already have an entire investigation to conduct,” Malinda said. “What we have to do is figure out what caused Newberry’s death. That’s our focus.”

She had a strong opinion on this subject. I could appreciate that she wanted to show initiative as part of the team, but I detested her lack of respect for the general order of things.

“We have to figure out whether this is real, regardless of whether these videos have anything to do with Newberry’s death,” Bryant said. “There’s not a question about that.”

“Am I the only one who thinks that what happened last night is linked to these videos?” I asked.

“I certainly don’t believe that,” Malinda said.

“Is there any way we can get help with all of this work?” Nelson asked.

Bryant shook his head. “We’re going crazy with this New Mumbai investigation. If I pull off more people right now, there are going to be a lot of questions asked.”

“And besides,” Malinda said, “is this information that we really want analysts to be dealing with? This information should stay in this room for now.”

“I’m not sure that you should be privy to this information,” I said. Trust no one.

“Cool it, you two,” Bryant said. “Orion, you wanted some help on this investigation, so this is what you get.”

“This is something that we need to take to Quincy,” I repeated.

“Taking this information to Quincy now is only going to confuse him,” Malinda said. “No, until we know for certain that this information has something to do with Newberry’s death, and we come up with a plan for how to deal with that information, we shouldn’t say anything.”

“Let’s do this,” Bryant said. “We work on this until the end of the day, try to authenticate them. If we can’t, we take this to Quincy in the morning.”

This wasn’t an unreasonable compromise. What was unreasonable was letting a PI officer with no experience, dominate the Intelligence Division’s decision-making process and push us towards a détente that we didn’t need. Bryant’s pronouncement was unacceptable. I was determined to take this to Quincy.

“Setting aside the interviews, let’s talk about how Newberry got the throwaway that attacked him,” Bryant said. “Using the trace from last night, we’ve gotten what we need, so there’s no reason for you to worry about hiding him any longer. Cody Beans is a known quantity. It’s just a matter of giving the sign to bring him in. We’ve already got people on him.”

“I want to talk to him. Before anything happens,” I said. “I want to give him the opportunity to come in on his own, without the need to knock down his door and put a bag on his head.”

“And if he won’t?” Malinda asked.

I really wanted a muzzle. “He’s not the guy we want. But he can probably be useful in getting us to whoever sells him throwaways. I’d like to see where he goes in the next day or so.”

“Because that was so successful last time,” Malinda said.

Thick pressure rose in my chest. It needed to vent or I might end up doing something that I regretted.

A short beep sounded from the link-up. Bryant muttered to himself before he spoke aloud. “This is a message I just got from an analyst,” Bryant said as he brought up an image. “It seems that we’ve struck some gold. We’ve got Cody in talks with his throwaway supplier, setting up a meet and greet. If we want to, we can move on both of them at that time.”

“Do we need a warrant?” Malinda asked.

“Procured by tonight. We’ll run it by Judge Stevens. Bit of a tough spot, though. Apparently Cody’s going Dark Side,” Bryant said.

“Dark Side?” Nelson said.

People still joked about Pink Floyd. But the dark side of the moon wasn’t about dropping tabs of acid; it was an underdeveloped haven for criminal activity. In the south ADM had established its greenhouses. But further north, there were only sporadic official settlements. Constantly moving Love factories and throwaway centers proliferated. There were plenty of inhospitable places ripe for people like Cody.

“We know exactly where this place is?” I asked.

“Got a scan of the region already,” Bryant said. He brought up a map in front of us.

“Really isolated, isn’t it? See this canyon?” He pointed to a slim black line on the map. “Now, we don’t have a good shot, but apparently, according to our analyst, there’s an entrance into it right here.” Bryant zoomed in. “And at that entrance is the convergence of three caverns,” he said.

“So we get a trace on, and he takes us right to this spot?” I asked.

“That’s right,” Bryant said. “We can get a trace, follow his movement, and have a small group of troops near this outpost. When the exchange is made, we get Cody, his supplier, and whatever contraband they have with them. I’ll let our special forces know so they can begin to prep.”

Bryant glanced at me then swung his focus to Malinda. His tongue twirled in his mouth. “You think that the two of you will be able to get along for another day or so? Orion, we’re going to continue to need Malinda’s services until this is over. Is that going to be a problem?”

“No, of course not,” Malinda said, like she was surprised by the question, as though she hadn’t been antagonizing me the entire meeting.

“I’ll be okay,” I said. But I wasn’t sure that I would be. This needling, this contrary posturing wasn’t something we needed on an investigation of this magnitude.

“Good. We need focus, and we need to trust each other. I know that this is just the beginning of what’s going to be an exhausting next few days. But we have to keep it together,” Bryant said.

Our meeting broke apart. I headed back to my office for a few minutes of quiet time. I wasn’t pleased that I had taken on the same level as a lowly PI. I was Deputy Chief of Intelligence. But that seemed to mean nothing. It was another sign that Bryant wanted me to feel inferior. Stewing in this anger wouldn’t do me a lot of good, however.

Back in the office, I opened my link-up and checked my messages. I had only one, from the man who would evaluate Newberry’s chip for irregularities.

“Hey, Orion,” Luis Eckhart said. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty on your plate right now, but if you have time this afternoon, please come down here to see me. See you soon.”

Events overlapped, information ran together. But I didn’t have much time to think about the chaos surrounding me. I had to go see Quincy, tell him what I found and hope that he would take my side.