Not used to servitors, your wife? Michael Zimmels asked pleasantly.
I'm afraid she took the Pope's decree about affinity to heart, I told him.
I thought that just referred to humans who had the affinity gene splice?
I shrugged.
•••
The Chief of Police's office occupied a corner of the two-storey station building. For all that it was a government-issue room with government-issue furniture, it gave me an excellent view down the habitat.
You got lucky with this assignment, Michael Zimmels told me as soon as the door closed behind us. It's every policeman's dream posting. There's virtually nothing to do.
Strictly speaking I'm corporate security these days, not a policeman. But the Delph company is one of the major partners in the Jovian Sky Power corporation which founded Eden. Basically the habitat is a dormitory town for the He3 mining operation and its associated manufacturing support stations. But even JSKP workers are entitled to a degree of civilian government; so Eden is legally a UN protectorate state, with an elected town council and independent judiciary. On paper, anyway. The reality is that it's a corporate state right down the line; all the appointees for principal civil posts tend to be JSKP personnel on sabbaticals. Like me.
There has to be a catch.
Zimmels grinned. Depends how you look at it. The habitat personality can observe ninety-nine per cent of the interior. The interior polyp surface is suffused with clusters of specialized sensitive cells; they can pick up electromagnetic waves, the full optical spectrum along with infrared and ultraviolet; they can sense temperature and magnetic fields, there are olfactory cells, even pressure-sensitive cells to pick up anything you say. All of which means nobody does or says anything that the habitat doesn't know about; not cheating on your partner, stealing supplies, or beating up your boss after you get stinking drunk. It sees all, it knows all. No need for police on the beat, or worrying about gathering sufficient evidence.
Ye gods, I glanced about, instinctively guilty. You said ninety-nine per cent? Where is the missing one per cent?
Offices like this, on buildings which have a second floor, where there's no polyp and no servitors. But even so the habitat can see in through the windows. Effectively, the coverage is total. Besides which, this is a company town, we don't have unemployment or a criminal underclass. Making sure the end-of-shift drunks get home OK is this department's prime activity.
Wonderful, I grunted. Can I talk to this personality?
Zimmels gave his desktop terminal a code. It's fully interfaced with the datanet, but you can communicate via affinity. In fact, given your status, you'll have to use affinity. That way you don't just talk, you can hook into its sensorium as well, the greatest virtual-reality trip you'll ever experience. And of course, all the other senior executives have affinity symbiont implantshell, ninety per cent of the population is affinity capable. We use it to confer the whole time, it's a heck of a lot simpler than teleconferencing. And it's the main reason the habitat administration operates so smoothly. I'm surprised the company didn't give you a neuron symbiont implant before you left Earth, you just can't function effectively without one up here.
I told them I'd wait until I got here, I said, which was almost the truth.
The terminal chimed melodically, then spoke in a rich male euphonic. Good afternoon, Chief Parfitt, welcome to Jupiter. I am looking forward to working with you, and hope our relationship will be a rewarding one.
You're the habitat personality? I asked.
I am Eden, yes.
Chief Zimmels tells me you can perceive the entire interior.
That is correct. Both interior and exterior environments are accessible to me on a permanent basis.
What are my family doing?
Your children are examining a tortoise they have found in the garden of your new house. Your wife is talking to Mrs Zimmels, they are in the kitchen.
Michael Zimmels raised his eyebrows in amusement. Sally Ann's cutting her in on the local gossip.
You can see them, too?
Hear and see. Hell, it's boring; Sally Ann's a sponge for that kind of thing. She thinks I don't look after my advancement prospects, so she plays the corporate social ladder game on my behalf.
Do you show anybody anything they ask for? I asked.
No, Eden replied. The population are entitled to their privacy. However, legitimate Police Department observation requests override individual rights.
It sounds infallible, I said. I can't go wrong.
Don't you believe it, Zimmels retorted knowingly. I've just given you the good news so far. You're not just responsible for Eden, the entire JSKP operation in Jupiter orbit comes under your jurisdiction. That means a lot of external work for your squads; the industrial stations, the refineries, inter-orbit ships; we even have a large survey team on Callisto right now.
I see.
But your biggest headache is going to be Boston.
I don't remember that name in any of my preliminary briefings.
You wouldn't. He produced a bubble cube, and handed it over to me. This contains my report, and most of it's unofficial. Supposition, plus what I've managed to pick up from various sources. Boston is a group of enthusiastsradicals, revolutionaries, whatever you want to call themwho want Eden to declare independence, hence the name. They're quite well organized, too; several of their leading lights are JSKP executives, mostly those on the technical and scientific side.
Independence from the UN?
The UN and the JSKP, they want to take over the whole Jupiter enterprise; they think they can create some kind of technological paradise out here, free of interference from Earth's grubby politicians and conservative companies. The old High Frontier dream. Your problem is that engaging in free political debate isn't a crime. Technically, as a UN policeman, you have to uphold their right to do so. But as a JSKP employee, just imagine how the board back on Earth will feel if Eden, Pallas, and Ararat make that declaration of independence, and the new citizens assume control of the He3 mining operation while you're here charged with looking after the corporation's interests.
•••
The PNC wafer's bleeping woke me. I struggled to orientate myself. Strange bedroom. Grey geometric shadows at all angles. A motion which nagged away just below conscious awareness.
Jocelyn shifted around beside me, twisting the duvet. Also unusual, but the Zimmels had used a double bed. Apparently it would take a couple of days to requisition two singles.
My questing hand found the PNC wafer on the bedside dresser. I prayed I'd programmed it for no visual pick-up before I went to bed. Call acknowledged. Chief Parfitt here, I said blearily.
The wafer hazed over with a moir rainbow which shivered until a face came into focus. Rolf Kmmel, sir. Sorry to wake you so early.
Detective Lieutenant Kmmel was my deputy, we'd been introduced briefly yesterday. Thirty-two and already well up the seniority ladder. A conscientious careerist, was my first impression. What is it, Rolf?
We have a major crime incident inside the habitat, sir.
What incident?
Somebody's been killed. Penny Maowkavitz, the JSKP Genetics Division director.
Killed by what?
A bullet, sir. She was shot through the head.