Open Channel To NN Core.
Morning, Juliet.
A wan smile crept on to her face. Good old Grandpa, he was so indefatigable.
Morning, Grandpa. Anything important happen last night?
Someone tried to break in to our Leicester music deck factory warehouse; it was a local gang, they'd even brought a lorry with them to cart away their loot. Security suspects someone on the inside was feeding them information on the shipments. There was an attempt to snatch data out of the genetics research division memory core, we think they were after the land-coral splices. The guardian programs prevented any data loss, and security are working with English Telecom to see if they can backtrack the hackers. Hopeless, of course. The pound closed three cents up on the dollar, and the FTcast index was up eight points. Market confidence is high after the spaceplane roll out. There was a lot of data traffic between our backing consortium partners right into the wee small hours. Got 'em on the run, we have, Juliet.
Did you break any of their squirts?
No, they're using a high-order encryption code. It could be done, but it would tie up a lot of processing capacity. Not cost-effective. They'll agree to Prior's Fen.
Hope so.
Everything all right, Juliet?
Yes. No.
Executive material if ever I saw it. So bloody decisive you are, my girl.
What do you think of Patrick, Grandpa?
Handsome, rich, cultured, quite clever, well mannered. Picked yourself a good one again, Juliet.
There was a shade too much emphasis on again for her mind. She glanced up at the mirror above the basin. And boy oh boy did she look melancholy. Her hair was a complete mess as well. Patrick did so enjoy seeing it tossed about. His husky voice in the dark, encouraging her, whispering how wild she was. It never seemed to matter in bed, excitement overriding everything.
Yah, she replied. So how come they never last?
I said good, I never said flawless.
Do you think he's going to start asking me for shipping contracts?
No. Even if his family shipping line needed 'em, he wouldn't ask. And they don't need 'em, I've had our commercial intelligence division keeping an eye open.
My very own guardian angel. You're wonderful, Grandpa.
You'll find him one day, Juliet. I'll be a great-grandfather
Don't hold your breath, not the way I'm going.
I watched that Coleman woman this morning.
I don't want to talk about it! She reached for a comb and began to pull it through the knots. The face in the mirror was scowling petulantly.
I don't like you being ridiculed like that, Juliet. Let me tell you, my girl, it would never have happened in my day. People should have more bloody respect. You ought to blacklist that channel, no adverts, and pass the word round everyone Event Horizon does business with. That frigid Coleman cow would soon get the message.
It was the second time temptation had been put in front of her that morning. She considered it, something like envy colouring every thought. No, Grandpa. If I started using my power like that, where would it end?
Use it or lose it girl. I've told you before.
That is misuse, as you well know. I get into enough trouble using it where it's beneficial.
Ah, Juliet, a little bit of self-indulgence occasionally never hurt
Don't you worry about me, Grandpa. I'll get that Jakki Coleman, you'll see.
My girl.
She put the comb down, the worst of the knots out. It would be safe to ask her maid Adelia to wash and set it now. Adelia always got mighty prickly if she was faced with a big untangling job every morning.
I've been thinking about Karl Hildebrandt, she said.
Oh, yeah? I don't think he'd be a suitable replacement for Patrick.
Behave! I meant his wanting me to take Greg off the Kitchener case. There's something very funny about that.
Well… it was a very high-profile appointment, Juliet. Bloody marvelous it is, girl, the first time in four years the company hasn't had an ulterior motive in twisting Marchant's arm, and everyone starts banging on about undue influence. We just can't win.
Karl is a front for Diessenburg Mercantile, Grandpa, first, last, and always, even in these circumstances. He was too quick off the mark, and too insistent asking to see me just to be offering sociable advice. He was ordered to do it.
Conceded, it is a bit odd. Do you think it's important?
Yes. Why would Diessenburg Mercantile have any interest in a ghoulish murder in the middle of the English countryside?
Beats me, girl.
Well, find out.
Oh, yes, bloody abracadabra. Here you are.
Don't get stroppy, Grandpa. It's simple. Run down a list of Diessenburg Mercantile's other investments for me, and see if any of them comes into conflict with the work Kitchener was doing.
What, a stardrive!?
She went to the basin, and ran the cold tap, splashing some of the water on her face. It did sound pretty unlikely now she had spelt it out. Yes, I know it sounds totally wonky, Grandpa. But there has to be a reason.
I suppose so, girl. You've got to remember all this nonsense about actually building flying saucers sounds pretty bloody impossible to a relic like me. Listen, when I was a lad the Daleks were the wildest piece of imagination ever to hit England. I was terrified of them. One time when the Doctor was caught in some caves by…
Yah. If you could get that data correlated in time for the conference this afternoon I'd be grateful.
Bloody hell, Juliet, you've got a heart of Ice. Black ice.
I wonder who I inherited that from?
All right, I'll get on to it.
Thanks, Grandpa. I really am jolly busy this morning. I've got a video bite opportunity with the national swimming squad; then there's the Nottingham councillors' delegation, and the meeting for the Home Counties region managerial report.
You should complain to the union steward, they're working you too hard.
If I ever get the chance, I'll tell him.
Cancel Channel To NN Core.
She called Adelia on the housephone and asked her to be ready in half an hour. There was just time for a quick bath, wash off last night's tussle.
Hot water gushed out of the wide tap nozzle, kicking up clouds of steam. She stood in the middle of the bath as it twisted round her, reviewing what clothes to wear for meeting the swimming team. Event Horizon sponsored the England squad, so it was mainly a PR event, but she took a genuine interest in the team's performance. Swimming had been her sport at school.
She sat down when the water reached her knees, and switched on the spa. Water jets and bubbles pummelled her skin, easing the tension out of her muscles.
It was no good, she couldn't think what to wear.
Access Dictionary File. Define: Fallal.
Fallal, the memory node reported. Gaudy or vulgar, in reference to jewellery, or clothing, or ornament, etc.
Bitch!
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The original buildings of HMP Stocken Hall were still virtually intact, a regimented complex of stolid cell blocks squatting behind the five-metre perimeter fence topped with razor wire. Solar panels had been added to the south-facing walls, although they only came up to the bottom of the second-storey windows, leaving a band of ginger brickwork free. The tall concrete-segment chimney of the old utility building was swathed in dark ivy, abandoned now, the machinery it served rusted beyond repair. Solar water-heaters had been set up on the flat roofs, like giant silver flowers with long tubular midnight-black stamens.
Greg could see work parties tending the vegetable plots inside the fence, men in grey one-piece uniforms lethargically scratching at the waterlogged soil with rakes and hoes. Prisons were officially responsible for producing fifty per cent of their own foodstuff, though the actual figure was often much higher. Grow it, or go hungry. A concept which the PSP had introduced, and the New Conservatives saw no need to alter. Dismay at the idea of prisoners sitting unproductively in their cells for twenty-two hours a day was something both sides of the political divide shared, especially when Treasury funds were scarce.