Opal opened the envelope, removed its contents: various bills of various colors. “What the hell is this? Monopoly money?”
“Universal Economic Credits. Thirty-two thousand, one hundred ten of them, to be exact.”
“Great. What the hell are they?”
Trevor leaned towards her, still grinning. “Don’t worry: they’re for real.”
“Okay, so I’ve got a fistful of somethings. Now, why don’t you tell an old-timer like me what I really want to know: what’s it worth in dollars, please?”
“The credit’s value-which is, very roughly, an average of the c-dollar and the euro-is about one-point-one c-dollars. So you have about thirty-five thousand, three hundred dollars.”
Opal looked down. “Well, this funny-money looks a lot more serious now.” She thumbed through it, looked at Downing. “Damn. Is this back pay for the whole fifty years I spent as a popsicle?”
“No.”
“So this is just for the time since you thawed me out?”
“Correct.”
Opal seemed to run the numbers mentally. “Okay, not that I’m eager to be poor again, but that jump in pay grade makes me at least a full bird colonel.”
Downing looked her directly in the eye. “As I’ve already said, you are on special duty. This is special pay.”
Downing frowned when the commplex’s handset started chirping: an external call. He picked it up: his frown transmogrified into an expressionless mask that brought Trevor to his feet. “Yes. I see. Do it quietly. Yes, I want the whole squad. I will be on site in”-he checked his watch-“six minutes. Update me as you learn more.”
Downing was up beside Trevor in a single motion. “There’s been another-incident. Major, you come with me. Trevor, you are acting site CO.”
“What’s happening?”
“Not sure. There was a fire alarm-and some irregularities-in the suite that the Major shares with Mr. Riordan.”
Opal’s voice was so tightly controlled that it conveyed more panic than a scream. “Where’s Caine?”
“No word on that yet. He’s probably fine.”
Opal did not blink. “Or he could be dead.”
Downing moved toward the door. “We should hurry.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
TELEMACHUS
Trevor watched the small gathering in the ecumenical chapel rise and approach the side room in which he was waiting. For them, it’s all about what Nolan Corcoran had said, or what he did, or what he stood for. All that is fine. And all that will be forgotten. But this endures: he was my Dad, and I loved him, and I didn’t say it enough. And now I never can.
Except he couldn’t afford to feel that, not now. Officially, he was here as one of the major mourners: the grieving son. In actuality, he was working: coordinating the activities of his meager security staff while keeping an eye out for the incipient signs of yet another incident. He angled toward Elena, who had emerged from the chapel and quickly became the focus for a spontaneous receiving line. He slipped in behind her, nodded for Rulaine-Downing’s green beanie-to rotate into a position that could cover the area he’d vacated.
Trevor leaned toward Elena’s ear. “How are you holding up?”
Elena was looking intently at the chapel doorway, where Caine was emerging-walking with a limp and his left arm in a softcast and sling. “I’m fine, Trev. I’ve done my own mourning for Dad.”
He followed her eyes; she was looking at Caine, all right. She wasn’t blinking. “You know his story?”
“I’m sorry: who are you talking about?”
“Him. The guy you’re looking at. Riordan.”
“The one who was attacked last night?”
“Yup, that’s him. He was with Dad-at the end-you know.”
“I thought I heard that.”
Trevor leaned back to look at his sister. “El, you must know who he is. He’s the guy from the Parthenon Dialogs. You know-exosapients on Delta Pavonis? That’s him.”
“Yeah-I guess I just wasn’t thinking about that.” She looked away-as if it were a considerable effort-and smiled at her brother.
“Oh? And what were you thinking about, Sis?”
“How people connected to Dad seem to be targeted. Maybe Dad was himself.”
“We’ll find out at the meeting with Richard, right after we wrap up here. Seems they’ve got the final coroner’s report.”
Trevor saw Opal edge into the reception hall behind Caine. I wonder if she’ll see me looking at her-
Elena turned back to him during a short lull in the commiserating handshakes. “You’re staring, Trev.”
“Uh…oh. Yeah.”
“Who is she?”
“Her? Oh, she’s his-” And the words staggered to a stop in his head and his mouth: I haven’t lied to my sister since I was a bratty younger brother. But Richard had been very clear regarding the confidentiality of Opal’s real job.
“His what?” Elena’s head was tilted to one side, the way it did when she was on the scent of a secret-or knew that she was being snowed.
“She’s his friend. And she works for Richard. Security. Seems she and Riordan have a lot in common, though.”
“How so?” Elena’s voice sounded strangely flat.
“They’re both reanimated sleepers. He was down for fourteen years, all told.”
Now her voice sounded careful, as if she were weighing every word. “That must have been very hard on him-losing so much time that way.”
“More than you know. He hardly remembers a thing from the last few days of his old life. Shame. Seems like a nice enough guy.”
“You know him?” She had turned to face him.
“Well, yeah-sort of. I babysat him on a sub for a couple of weeks.” He looked at her. “Didn’t I tell you?”
She was already looking back at Riordan. “No. You didn’t. And what about the girl-I mean, the woman?”
“She was in cold storage for fifty years. What she remembers no longer exists. She’s entirely alone in the world.”
Elena turned back towards him. “Uh-oh.”
“What do you mean ‘uh-oh’?”
Elena smiled. “I mean, I know that tone of voice. Trevor, look at her. She and Riordan are-well, it looks like they’re more than friends.” She put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry-I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Yeah. Me neither.” He checked his watch; 1258 hours, local. Which meant that, any minute now-
A medium-sized, nondescript man in black fatigues slipped into the room sideways. He scanned faces, stopped when he saw Trevor, nodded once. Trevor leaned toward Elena’s ear. “I’ll be back in a few.”
“Trevor, the guests-”
“Are all trying to talk to you because you’re the pretty one-and none of them knew Dad personally, so I’d be happy to stop playing charades. Besides, I’ve got to get back to work.”
She nodded, scanned down the dwindling line. Caine was toward the end.
Trevor walked back to the position he had originally occupied. Rulaine saw him approach, moved toward the other side of the hall.
The nondescript man met Trevor at the exact point Rulaine had vacated. “How’s it going, boss?”
“All quiet. What’s the word, Stosh?”
“Lot of shack chat. By the way, is it true?”
“About what?”
“That I’ve got to stand a little straighter when I salute you?”
“Like you ever salute me.”
“Hey-I salute you. Sometimes. Sir.”
“Yeah-but I mean without that big shit-eating grin.”
“Well, it’s just hard not to remember you blowing chow during the last run of hell week.”
“Oh, you just loved that.”
“Made you the grunt you are today, Commander.”
“You’re a sadist, Chief.”
“Masochist, too-since I asked to serve under you. Figured you’d want to return the favor to your old instructor.”
“Right now, I just want my old instructor to clue me in on the shack chat.”
“Aye aye, sir. Hardly know where to start.”