"I think we'll take a look."
"Okay." Adul started to inform the platoon sergeant they were arriving, while Braddock parked the car as close as possible.
Reporters saw them pull up. Half a dozen made their way over as the doors opened. Three police officers and a couple of Skins moved to intercept them and clear a passage for Simon.
"Are you guys Zantiu-Braun's secret police?"
"Will you use collateral necklaces in retaliation?"
Simon kept a neutral expression in place until they passed through the cordon. When they made it inside the pump station his nose crinkled at the sight. Then he realized he was standing in a couple of centimeters of water.
Each of the pumps had been torn apart, their impellers bursting out of the casing. Chunks of metal were embedded in the concrete walls and the ceiling. No piece of machinery was left intact; even the control boards were buckled and shattered.
Simon's gaze swept from side to side. "Competent," he murmured. "Very competent." He saw the senior police officers, five of them huddled together. The sight amused him. He'd visited a great many crime scenes over the years, and anyone above the rank of lieutenant always sought out and stuck with his or her contemporaries. It was as if they were afraid they'd get mugged by the junior ranks if they were alone.
His personal AS interrogated the police AS and discovered the officer in charge. Detective Captain Oisin Benson. He was easy enough to identify: no other senior officer had hair that unkempt.
Oisin Benson caught sight of him at the same moment. He gave his colleagues a knowing look and came over.
"Can I help you?"
"We're just here to take a preliminary look, Captain," Simon said. "We won't get in your way."
"Let me phrase that better," Oisin Benson said. "Who are you, and why do you think you have the right to be here?"
"Ah. I see. Well, we're from the president's office, and we're here by the authority of General Kolbe. And the reason we're here is to determine if this was an anti-Zantiu-Braun act."
"It wasn't."
"You seem to have come to that conclusion remarkably quickly, Captain. What evidence have you got for that?"
"No slogans painted here. No statement released by freedom fighters. None of your people or operations were targeted. This is purely a civil matter."
"Are there a lot of terrorist explosions on Thallspring?"
Detective Captain Oisin Benson leaned a fraction closer and smiled coldly. "They're about as rare as tuberculosis, Mr. Roderick."
So much for being unobtrusive, Simon thought. "Actually, Detective, our operations were targeted by this. The pump station provides several factories with water. All of them will have to curtail their operations until supplies can be restored."
"Out of the seventeen factories supplied by this station, only five are being forced to provide your tribute. The utility company that owns this station, on the other hand, is the subject of several lawsuits concerning toxic spillage brought by the families of those afflicted. It's a court battle that is taking a long time to resolve, and the company so far has not made any interim payments to the victims."
"Has the company been threatened?"
"Their executives have received a great many threats, both verbally and in e-packages; they're normally directed against them personally or their families, but there have been a considerable number made against the company itself."
"How convenient."
"You don't like the truth, do you, Mr. Roderick? Especially when it doesn't coincide with your own agenda."
Simon sighed, resentful that he had to get involved in a public squabble with this petty official. "We're going to look around now, Detective. We won't take up any more of your time."
"How considerate." Oisin Benson stepped to one side and made a sweeping welcome gesture with his arm.
Simon splashed over to examine the first of the ruined pumps. He could feel the water seeping through his shoes to soak his socks. Two other people were studying the mangled machinery: an engineer who wore the utility company's jacket and a technician from Z-B. The technician gave the three security men a slightly forced nod of acknowledgment. The engineer appeared completely indifferent to them as he ran a small palm-sized sensor over the wreckage.
"Anything of interest?" Simon asked.
"Standard commercial explosive," the technician said. "There are no batch code molecules incorporated at manufacture, so I doubt the police will ever be able to trace it. Apart from that, I'm guessing they were all detonated simultaneously. That implies a radio signal. Could have come from outside, but more likely a timer placed with them. Again, very simple components. Universally available."
The engineer straightened up, pushing a hand into his back. "I can tell you one thing. Whoever did it knew what they were about."
"Really?" Simon said. "Why is that?"
"Size and positioning. They used the minimum amount of explosive on each pump. This station building is like all our others, the cheapest covering you can build, basically it just keeps the rain and wind off the pumps. Concrete panels reinforced by tigercloth, that's all this is. And the whole thing is still standing. Six explosions in here last night, and the only damage is to the pumps. I'd call that a remarkably controlled explosion."
"So we're looking for an expert, then?"
"Yes. They knew plenty about the pumps, an' all. Look." He tapped a section of casing that resembled a tattered flower, fangs of metal peeled back. "They went for the bearings each time. Once they were broken, the impellers tore the whole thing apart from the inside. They spin at several thousand RPM, you know. Hell of a lot of inertia bottled up there."
"Yes, I'm sure there is." Simon consulted a file his personal AS was scrolling. "How long will it take to get the station back online?"
The engineer sucked his cheeks in, making a whistling sound. "Well, you're not looking at repairs, see. This is going to have to be completely rebuilt. I know for a fact there's only two spare pumps in our inventory. We'll have to contract the engineering firm to build us the rest. You're looking at at least six weeks to build and install. More likely eight or nine, what with things the way they are right now."
Back in his office, Simon waited until his assistant had served himself and the two intelligence operatives with tea before he asked: "Well?"
"Clever," Adul said. "And on more than one level."
"There's definitely no evidence to justify using collateral," Braddock said.