Gridlinked

'Go on,' said Pelter.

'You haven't heard? It's on all the news channels,' said Stanton.

'I'm getting impatient, John.'

Stanton stood and walked over to the wallscreen. He expertly tapped the small touch-console below it and stepped back. A headline flashed up as the news story he wanted came online.

Samarkand Runcible Disaster

Stanton watched Pelter as the story unfolded with its ersatz graphics and scenarios. No one yet knew how bad it was, they reported, but it was definitely bad. Pelter's expression was avid. Stanton knew that he wished this could be put down as a Separatist action; personally he doubted that possibility. Separatist organizations just did not have the clout to cause something as devastating as this. The highest they usually achieved was the detonation of a tactical atomic in a city, and after that ECS would come in and wipe them out, every last one of them. Stanton would take their pay up to the point when they started planning something like mat, then he would make himself scarce. As the news story closed he wondered if he might be getting near to one of those points now.

'You think he'll go there?' Pelter asked.

'He went straight out on the first shuttle to Cereb, so he's on his way mere. I'd say he must have been recalled, else he would still be here mopping up the mess.' Pelter fixed him with that look again.

Stanton quickly went on. 'The nearest runcible to Samarkand is on Minostra. That's where any rescue or clear-up operation will be run from. We should easily be able to confirm that he went there. Just a little money in the right pocket.'

'Very well,' Pelter said. 'We need something more than a few handguns and explosives.'

'Anything more would be expensive, and difficult to bring here,' said Stanton.

'I don't want them here. Where's our usual supplier?'

'Huma - and he's one of many there.'

'Very well, that's where we go. Contact Dusache, Menneken, Corlackis and Svent, and have them meet us there. Promise them double the usual. We also get Mr Crane because, unless I miss my bet, friend Ian Cormac is going to have Golem backup.'

Yeah, thought Stanton, the point where he moved on was arriving. Maybe a million shillings was not enough.

'Where is Mr Crane?' he asked.

'At the residence. He's hidden there.'

Stanton shook his head. 'Risky. Local police will be all over the place by now. You know that. ECS will realize we'll be on the lookout for another plant, like Cormac, and they won't bother. There's also no advantage to them to let us continue operating. They'll hand all their evidence over to the locals and there'U be warrants out for everyone in your cell.'

Pelter pressed his hand to his augmentation and appeared confused for a moment. As that confusion passed, he pulled his hand away and clenched it into a fist.

'Which is why we need Mr Crane. We have to tidy up here first. There are three people who know just a little too much about off-planet operations. They get picked up and the entire cause will be in trouble. So I can't allow them to be picked up,' he said.

Stanton kept his mouth shut. On the one hand, Pelter wanted to go after Cormac, which was a dubious operation at best. Yes, it would mean getting rid of a dangerous enemy to the Separatist cause, but, in reality, their resources would be better spent elsewhere. His real reason was plain vengeance. On the other hand, Pelter was considering a ruthless action for the Separatist cause, an action mat, although preventing other operations being discovered, would certainly make him - or the cause - no friends.

Pelter stood. 'We do it now. We get Mr Crane,' he said.

'As you say, Arian.'

Stanton stood up as well, telling himself to focus on the main issue here: a million New Carth shillings. After he had obtained that payment, he could retire and leave this lunatic to his self-destruction.

'Why are you leaving it now?' Melassan asked as she banged away at her touch-console, before sealing the testimony and transmitting copies down to Cheyne III.

'I've been called in - something else ECS wants me to deal with,' Cormac replied.

'That Samarkand thing?'

'Yes, that is somewhat more serious.'

'What I don't understand,' said Melassan, turning from her console, 'is why you were called in here at all. Surely a cell like this is beneath your notice?'

Cormac grimaced and wondered if he would have noticed that same edge of sarcasm a few hours ago. 'It's about the hardware,' he said. 'In that one year with them I've seen them using pulse-guns easily as effective as anything ECS possesses, some very high-quality planar explosives, and more recently a proton gun. I also heard rumours of an android, maybe a Golem, broken to psychotic, and used for select hits. I'd like very much to know where they got hold of such a monster, if it really exists.'

'If it exists,' Melassan repeated.

'There is always a chance that it does, and such a chance cannot be ignored. Can you imagine the mayhem such a creature could do with the right programming?'

'You tell me. You're the expert.'

Cormac let that go and replied, 'Assassination, anywhere. With an android like that you have a weapon you can take through any runcible because it would not be recognized as a weapon. Such an android might, just might, get through quite sophisticated defences, even those round one of the big AIs, maybe a runcible AI or a planetary governor and, once there, take control… Just imagine a psycho in control of a planetary defence grid.'

'That bad?'

'Possibly that bad. The kind of possibility we cannot allow.'

'It's probably not true. Probably just propaganda.'

'Yes, let us hope so.'

5

Money: People need a form of currency that is not just registered somewhere in a silicon brain. Human corporations like Cybercorp, System Metals and JMCC tried, in the early centuries of the millennium, to ban cash money, but they failed. The resultant black economies in the end produced an entirely new currency. The New Yen we know today was that currency, though it can hardly be described as 'new' anymore. Since its inception it has had many contenders. The greatest of these is the comparatively recent 'New Carth Shilling'. It is the case that so long as there are things of value to be exchanged, there will be money. Without it someone, at some point, will write an IO U, and in reality that's how it all started.

From How It Is by Gordon

The Pelter residence was large, and set in its own grounds outside the city. In Stanton's experience it was always the wealthy ones who bemoaned Polity takeover, because it prevented them getting even wealthier at other people's expense. The residence itself had something of the appearance of a Roman villa, but with decorations somewhat more baroque. It was surrounded by orchards of self-pruning pig-apple trees. The trees produced apples the size of human heads. They were never picked and at certain times of the year, effectively the twin summers experienced on Cheyne III, the orchards often swarmed with fruit wasps and small blade beetles. This was now one of those times, but the worrying swarms were not in the orchards. The swarms that there were, which they saw during a fly-by, were around the residence itself, and were of a distinctly uniformed variety.

'They may have found him by now,' Stanton observed, secretly hoping that was true.

'They are searching the house and I have no doubt they will find a lot that is of interest, but they will not find Mr Crane there,' Pelter replied. 'Anyway, they have not yet come anywhere near him. He would have heard them.'