Oh, I see, Heikki thought, and wondered if she could afford to be amused. This was a “privacy flat,” the sort of place rich businesspeople hired for unapprovable lovers. I wonder if my little brother is renter or beneficiary? Probably the renter, she decided, with some disappointment, and probably for political rather than sexual reasons.
At Galler’s words, the wall slid aside silently, revealing a tiny entrance hall and stairway quite at odds with the just-respectable shops that ringed the Court. The walls were painted a pale and dusty rose-red, and a pattern of wave-like whorls had been etched into the surface; the carpet—and it was carpeting, not plush tiling—echoed that pattern in darker shades. Heikki mouthed a soundless whistle, and Galler gave her an almost embarrassed look.
“It serves its purpose,” he said, and started up the stairs.
“And what is that?” Heikki asked, following. Galler pretended he hadn’t heard.
Galler’s flat was on the third level—which reassures me a little, Heikki thought. At least he wasn’t paying premium rents, not if he actually had to walk all that distance. She grinned to herself, but the smile faded as Galler unlocked the flat’s door.
The place was tiny, only two miniscule rooms, plus bath cubby and the wall kitchen only half hidden by a folding screen, but it was perfect, the sort of luxury Heikki herself had only dreamed of.
“You do all right for yourself,” she said involuntarily, and winced, hearing the envy in her voice.
Galler heard it too, and smiled as he waved her toward the couch that dominated the tiny main room. He said nothing, however, busying himself instead with the touchpad set into the wall beside the door. Security systems, Heikki guessed, and, moved by an obscure impulse, kicked off her shoes on the mat by the door before settling herself not on the couch but on the meter-tall pillow that was the room’s only other chair. Seen up close, the room was less impressive, the furniture not of this year’s, or even last year’s, style, the single flower—a pseudo-orchid as big as her head, fushcia edged in black, vivid against the discreet cream walls— fabric and wire rather than a live blossom. Even so, Heikki thought, it still proves a corporate salary’s better than mine. She had not needed the reminder, and the annoyance soured her voice as Galler turned away from the wall panel.
“So what’s going on, little brother?”
“Well you should ask.” Galler seated himself on the couch and moved aside a concealment panel to touch buttons on a hidden remote. A bar set-up, complete with bottles and fancifully molded ice, rose from the floor in front of him. He reached for a glass, began to fill it, and then belatedly remembered his manners.
“Help yourself, please.” Heikki shook her head, and Galler went on, “Trouble and more trouble, that’s what’s going on. What did you find on Iadara?”
Heikki laughed without humor. “Oh, no, you first.”
Galler grimaced, the ice snapping in his glass as he poured ink-blue liquor over it. “I’ve worked for Tremoth almost twenty years,” he began, and then shook his head. “No, let’s not descend to self-pity. What’s going on….I’m not completely sure, Heikki, but if what I think I’ve figured out is right, we’re not just going to get sued, we’re going to get lynched.”
“Who’s we?” Heikki asked pointedly, and Galler laughed.
“Tremoth, Gwynne. All of us.”
“Not me,” Heikki said. She shook her head. “You got in touch with me, Galler. You asked for my help, and got me into a lot of trouble in the bargain. Give.”
Galler stared into his drink for a long moment. “The crystal matrix you were hired to find,” he said at last. “Apparently the structure was derived from research that Tremoth did about a hundred and fifty years ago. I found that out—it’s part of my job, checking up on things like that, just so no one can sue us for stealing ideas—and when I told my boss, he hit the roof.”
“Why?” Heikki asked. “Lo-Moth’s practically part of Tremoth. It’s not like they were stealing it from you—is it?”
Galler shrugged. “Normally, no. When our techs have a good idea, it usually gets farmed out to the appropriate subsidiary. It’s just logic, they have the facilities and a lot more hands-on experience than we do. But this time … This time, my boss threw a fit, started me hunting who’d passed the matrix codes, and then who had access to the relevant files, all of that. I found it, all right—it was old data, back in the historical files, so I assumed it was something that had been proved unworkable, and passed all that along to my boss. Two weeks later, I was transferred to a different division.” He managed a rather strained smile. “Which was something of a shock, as I’d thought I was doing rather a good job.”
“Just who was your boss, Galler?” Heikki interjected quietly.
“A man named Daulo Slade.” Galler smiled again. “As you knew, and it gets better. He was a rising man, he seemed a good person to get in with, even if he is a Retroceder—” He broke off, shaking his head. “Which isn’t important. Anyway, all of this aroused my curiosity, of course, and I kept an eye—a discreet eye, I thought—on the Lo-Moth project. The next thing I heard, the matrix had been lost in an LTA crash on Iadara.”
“Which wasn’t what you normally think of as a crash,” Heikki murmured. Galler lifted an eyebrow, and Heikki allowed herself a slight smile. “Somebody shot it down. They went through the wreck pretty thoroughly, too.”
“Did you find the matrix?”
Heikki shook her head. “They must’ve taken it. We were pulled off the job before I could do anything about tracking them. The trail was pretty old, anyway.” She looked at her brother. “Did you pull us out, Galler?”
“No.”
For once, Heikki thought, I think I believe you. One corner of Galler’s mouth twitched upward, as though he’d read her mind.
“Did you have a chance to do any work at the site?”
“Of the crash? No, the orcs were swarming. All we had time to do was take tapes.” Heikki matched her brother’s twisted smile. “Which Lo-Moth—or more precisely, your ex-boss—took from us.”
“Slade was there himself?” Galler’s hand, which had been idly swirling the ice in his glass, froze suddenly. “That I didn’t know—it wasn’t in the networks I had access to. He was supposed to be on personal leave.”
He was looking expectantly at Heikki now. “So?” she asked. “I don’t—”
“You don’t understand,” Galler interrupted. “I’m supposed to have full access to all of that information, supposed to be able to find anybody, of any rank, anywhere and any time. That’s part of being a liaison, finding people—and knowing when not to find them, of course. But the point is, I should’ve known.” He put his drink aside. “Do you have copies of those tapes you took?”
Heikki hesitated, and Galler waved his hand impatiently. “Of course you do. Oh, damn it, why didn’t you have the sense to pick up those tapes I’d left in my office?” He stopped abruptly, fought himself under control. “Gwynne—Heikki, I have to see the tapes you made.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s the only way I can save myself, and you, and your Santerese and maybe a lot of other people.”
Since when did you ever care about anybody except yourself? The words trembled on her tongue, but there was something in Galler’s voice that silenced her. She said instead, “Why don’t you finish the story? What happened to you—why were the securitrons waiting for me at your office?”
Galler waved an impatient hand. “Politics, partly, and of course I’d read the files. But I don’t have a lot of friends in the company. Anyway, someone started fiddling with my personal records, especially finances, slipping in backdated deposits I hadn’t made—purchases, too, just to balance things. Shen—you met her, my secretary? She alerted me, I looked over the books, and realized there wasn’t anything I could do to get out of a probable embezzlement charge, at least not quickly enough to do any good. So I called you.”