The Second Sphere

My only comfort at the moment was the knowledge that Quincy Laslow had faith in me. And that faith brought up sweet dreams of what I would do once I became Director of Intelligence. My first step would be to get all of the crap out of Bryant’s office and repaint it a bright blue-green, give it a lulling, tropical feel. New furniture would need to be ordered, something light and fanciful, a comfort for those who came to see me. I liked Quincy Laslow’s taste. Perhaps he could offer some design advice.

The new administration of the Intelligence Division would require more thought. I was a more forgiving person than Bryant, so my days would be filled with less panic brought on by regular GR bombings. There would be a more even-handed sheriff in town, one that wouldn’t get flustered upon hearing of another explosion. The particulars could be worked out later, with a nice, steady hand guiding the planning. I was certain my analysts would be pleased with the kinder, gentler leader.

I punched my code into the pad by the front door of the intelligence office, let the red light flash across my chip, and walked through the door. Instead of hitting the wall of sound I expected, I found an overwhelming silence and lots of empty seats. Most of our analysts were gathered around the screen on the far wall, whispering in hushed tones. At the back of the crowd, I saw Bryant standing next to Nelson and Malinda.

“What’s going on?” I whispered to Bryant. His eyes glimmered like two pools in the sun.

“Olga Dahlgren,” Nelson said. His face contorted like he’d just eaten dirt. “She’s just been found dead in her hotel room.”

The air went out of my lungs.

“They’re saying it’s a suicide,” Bryant said. I hadn’t seen him regret too many decisions. But there was evidence of sorrow on his face.

“Shit,” I said.

“I told her we’d protect her,” Bryant hissed. “She wouldn’t listen.” I bowed my head as he said this, wanting to tell him it didn’t matter what Olga Dahlgren said. We should’ve known the danger surrounding this information.

Malinda laid a hand on his shoulder and began to caress him like she was his mother. “That was her choice. You made the offer.”

“Someone’s gotten out ahead of this story,” Nelson said. “I’m not sure how they can be so certain that it’s a suicide.”

“Of course it’s not a suicide,” Bryant said. His fingers mounted his face, crept to his temples, and squeezed ever so slightly.

“Any way that we can get information about what’s going on down there?” I asked.

Bryant shook his head. “We don’t even have anyone down on site. The only reports we’re getting are coming from the screen in front of us.”

“We should get someone down there as soon as we can,” I said. My eyes flew to Malinda, then to Nelson. They threw cautious glances at each other and moved off to make arrangements.

“We should’ve had someone on her,” I said.

“We tried--”

“We didn’t try,” I said. “And that’s the problem.”

Bryant’s face reddened.

“Are you questioning my decisions, Orion?” he said. Analyst heads swung in our direction.

“I’ve got the benefit of hindsight,” I said as I took a step back.

“And you remember that,” he said. “We can sit around and debate what happened in the past, or we can worry about get the throwaway supplier whom Cody Beans is meeting tomorrow. How would you like to spend the next few hours?” Bryant wiped his eyes. The on-screen reporter talked about the recent death of Victor Newberry and speculated on how that might have led to her suicide.

“We’re meeting with Len Overman in a few minutes to brief him,” Bryant said. “I think we need to emphasize the importance of getting Beans and his supplier alive.”

Bryant stalked away leaving anger rolling in his wake.

Olga Dahlgren knew the danger she was in and, still, she’d walked. Maybe she thought they, whoever they were, wouldn’t touch her if she kept her mouth shut. Of course she’d known more than she let on. And she’d paid for that knowledge with her life.

It was only a matter of time before the people who got Olga Dahlgren figured out that the Laslow Corporation had the same information. And when that time came, I was quite certain that my life, along with the lives of everyone else who knew about the interviews, would be in danger.