She drank a cup and a half of coffee and exchanged pleasant gossip; and unpleasant: about the elections; about the situation in Novgorod; about Giraud's office—and Corain—until Seely brought the tape back.
So she walked home with it, with Catlin, because she was anxious all the time she had it in her carry-bag; she was anxious when she arrived home and contemplated putting it in the player.
Her insecurity with the situation wanted Florian and Catlin to be beside her when she played it—
But that, she thought, was irresponsible. Emotional situations were herdepartment, not theirs, no matter that sera was anxious about it, no matter that sera wanted, like a baby, to have someone with her.
I wouldn't have advised this,Denys had said—distressed, she picked that up. But not entirely surprised. But I know you well enough to know there's no stopping you once you start asking a question. I won't comment on it. But if you have questions after you've seen it—you can send them to my Base if you find them too personal. And I'll respond the same way. If you want it.
Meaning Denys wasn't putting any color on the situation.
So she closed the door on the library and locked it; and put the tape into the player— nottaking a pill. She was no fool, to deep-study any tape blind and unpreviewed, and without running a check for subliminals.
She sat down and clenched her hands as it started—fascinated first-off by the sight of a familiar place, familiar faces—Florian and Catlin when they would have been a hundred twenty at least; and Justin—the boy was clearly Justin, even at the disadvantage of angle—he would be seventeen; and Ari herself—elegant, self-assured: she had seen newsclips of Ari this old, but none when Ari was not simply answering questions.
She listened—caught the nervousness in Justin's voice, the finesse of control in Ari's. Strange to knowthat voice so well, and to feel inside what it was doing—and to understand what kat would do to that experience, for someone skilled at tape-learning: she felt a little prickle down her back, a sense of hazard and involvement— conditioned response,a dim, analytical part of her thoughts said: the habits of this room, the physiological response of the endocrine system to the habit of taking kat here, and the lifelong habit of responding to tape— Azi must do this, she thought. And: The emotional context is kicking it off. Thank GodI didn't trank down for this.
As muscles felt the sympathetic stimulus of nerves that knewwhat it felt like to walk and sit, and speak, and a brain that understood in all that context that Ari was On, and that her pulse was up, and that the target of her intentions was a Justin very young, very vulnerable, picking up the signals Ari was sending and reacting with extreme nervousness—
Back off,she told herself, trying to distance herself from the aggression Ari was radiating. Disinvolve.
The switch was beside her. She only had to reach to it and push it to cut it off. But the sexual feeling was too strong, toward an object otherwise out of reach—toward a Justin not quite real, not the man she knew, but Justin all the same.
She saw the glass fall—realized then what Ari had done to him, and that he was in terrible danger. She was afraidfor him; but the muscles she felt move in response to that falling glass were Ari's, the impulse she felt through the heat of sex was concern for the orange juice spill on the damned upholstery— Hercouch—
Oh, God, she should shut this off. Now.
But she kept watching.
x
It was a simple computer-delivered See me: my office, 0900. —Denys Nye. —that brought him to the administrative wing, and to the door that he dreaded.
So she had the tape, Justin thought; so Denys knew about the dinner at Changes.
He had notexpected Giraud with Denys. He froze in the doorway, with Seely at his back, then walked in and sat down.
"Let's dispense with what we both know," Denys said, "and not bicker about details. What in hell do you think you're doing?"
"I thought about coming to you," he said, "but she was embarrassed as well as mad. I figured—if I did—come to you—she might blow. I thought you wanted to avoid that."
"So you took a wide action. On your own judgment."
"Yes, ser." Denys was being reasonable—too reasonable, with Giraud sitting there staring at him with hostility in every line of his face. "And knowing you'd call me."
"She has the tape," Denys said. "That surprised me, Justin, that truly surprised me."
Giraud's not the Special. Denys is. . . .
"I'm flattered, ser. I don't expect to surprise you. But that wasn't why I did it. I wish you'd letme explain. Ari—"
"I don't need your explanation. Neither of us does."
"It's a simple adolescent infatuation—"
"She's been sexually active since she was thirteen. At least. And this fascination is thoroughly in program. We're not worried about that. Her predecessor had a pattern of such things. That you're young, male, and working at close quarters with her— No question."
"I haven't encouraged it!"
"Of course not. But you've tried to manipulate her by that means."
"That's not so. No."
"Sins of the heart, if not the intellect. You took her on, you've taught her, you've tried to steer her—admit it."
"Awayfrom that kind of thing—"
Denys leaned forward on folded arms.
"That," Giraud said, "is intervention, in itself."
"Not to harm her," Justin said, "or me." Giraud had only to speak and reactions started running through him, kat-dream, deep as bone. He could not help that flutter of nerves, could not forget the whip-crack that voice could become ... in his nightmares. He looked at Denys, feeling a tremor in his muscles. "I tried to keep it all low-key, non-flux."
"Until yesterday," Denys said, "when you decided to handle a situation yourself. When you exacerbated a situation—and decided to handle it... by handing her a major key. That is an intervention, you're an operator, you knew exactly what you were doing, and I want you to lay that out for me in plain words—consciously and subconsciously."
"Why should I?" His heart was slamming against his ribs. "Duplication of effort, isn't it? Why don't we just go over to Security and save us all time and trouble?"
"You're asking for a probe."
"No. I'm not. But that's never stopped you."
"Let's have a little calm, son."
Jordan. Oh, God.
He means me to think about that.
"Answer the question," Giraud said.
"I did it to save my neck. Because she's a damned dangerous enemy. Because she could as well blow up in your direction. What in hell elsewas charged enough to knock her back and make her reassess?"
"That's a tolerably acceptable answer," Denys said. Confusing him. He waited for the redirect and the flank attack. "The question is—what do you think you've induced? Where is your intervention going? What's her state of mind right now?"
"I hope to God," he said, his voice out of control, "I hope to God—it's going to make her careful."
"And sympathetic?"
"Carefulwould do."
"You're courting her, aren't you?"
"God, no!"
"Yes, you are. Not sexually, though I imagine you'll pay that if you have to—if you can gain enough stability to handle the encounter. But you'd much rather avoid it. 'Hell hath no fury'? Something like that in your considerations? Politics may make strange bedfellows, but bedfellows make deadly politics."