The floaters waited at the door, and once Iwas inside the door snapped shut, locking them out and me in. Iguessed the office was a secured area, and the floaters didn’t haveclearance to enter.
In fact, I was sure the office was asecured area; the old man would scarcely have talked to me anywhereelse. At least we weren’t meeting in a dressing room somewhere.
Yoshio Nakada was waiting for me, sittingcomfortably in a big black chair that made him look small and oldand harmless-probably deliberately. A small desktop floated by hisright hand.
Nobody looks small to me, though, and I knewhe wasn’t harmless. I stepped in and stood there, waiting for himto speak first.
“Mis’ Hsing,” he said. “I see you havesuccessfully collected your retainer.”
“I have,” I agreed. “Thank you. I trust theirmedical needs are being seen to, and my father will be installed ina dreamtank here?”
“They are. You don’t mind, then, if GuohanHsing is once again removed from your life?”
I shrugged. “That’s what he wants. I respectmy ancestor’s wishes.”
He nodded. “I expected nothing less. When yourequired his safety as part of your fee I assumed either familialduty or familial affection was basic to your character, and Ithought duty more likely.”
I didn’t reply, and he continued, “You haveleft me with a mess to clean up, though-contracts broken, propertystolen or destroyed, serious criminal charges.”
“I know. I assume you can manage it.”
“Of course I can. I would have preferred atidier retrieval, though.”
“I thought you were in a hurry.”
“I am. Are you ready to begin yourinvestigation, then?”
Since he knew something of what had happenedon Epimetheus I had assumed he had kept himself informed about allof it, but maybe I’d misjudged, or maybe someone had beeninterfering, and he really didn’t know all of what I’d done inNightside City. “I already began it,” I said.
That did not seem to surprise him any morethan my agreeing to put my father back in a tank had. “Are youprepared to report any results?”
“I am prepared to discuss the situation, Mis’Nakada. I have questions I need answered.”
“I will try to answer them, then.” Hegestured toward a chair, which floated up behind me. I settled intoit.
“Did you know that everyone on Epimetheusthinks you’re dead?” I asked.
He frowned. “You’re sure?”
“Oh, very sure.”
“I had hoped that the reports had beenhacked.”
I shook my head. “Not about that,” I said.“Your death is all over the nets. Died in your sleep, causeundetermined. The newsies wanted to know what the hell I was doingwith a dead man’s ship.”
“That must have been inconvenient.”
“I managed.”
“Do you know the origin of the false reportof my death?”
“Here,” I said, pointing at the floor.“Somewhere in American City, and someone with access to yourprivate nets.”
“You think it’s related to the attempt on mylife.”
It wasn’t a question, but I said, “Probably,yes. Are you negotiating the purchase of Seventh HeavenNeurosurgery?”
He tilted his head to one side. “I am not,”he said.
“Someone here is. The buyer’s human agent isChantilly Rhee.”
That appeared to surprise him-his eyeswidened slightly. “I know Mis’ Rhee,” he said.
“So I assumed.”
“I will not insult you by asking whether youare sure, but are you certain she is aware of her involvement?”
“No,” I acknowledged. “Identity theft isdefinitely a possibility.”
“Is this planned purchase related to thesabotage of my dream enhancer?”
“I don’t know yet. It may be.”
“The negotiations are taking place onEpimetheus?”
“I think so.”
“Mis’ Rhee has not left Prometheus since theattempt on my life. I have kept very careful track of everyone inthe family compound.”
“That assumes your surveillance softwarehasn’t been compromised.”
“True.”
“I never said she was the buyer, though.She’s listed as the agent, not the principal.”
“You think my daughter is the principal?”
I noticed he took it for granted I knew whoChantilly Rhee worked for. “I don’t know,” I said. “Until thismeeting, I wasn’t sure you weren’t the principal.”
“While I am familiar with Seventh HeavenNeurosurgery, I decided some time ago that it was not a soundinvestment.”
“I know,” I said. “Poor long-term prospects.But you might have reconsidered.”
“I haven’t.”
“Someone here thinks it’s worthbuying, though.”
“Or worth appearing to want, at anyrate.”
“Or that.”
“You seem to have learned some interestingthings on Epimetheus, but I fail to see a connection to what Ihired you to investigate.”
“I don’t know the link,” I said. “Maybe thereisn’t one, but maybe there is. There’s definitely a connectionbetween Seventh Heaven and the false report of your death.”
“Is there?”
“Yes. And that report scrolling past rightafter the attempt on your life would be one hell of a coincidence.”I think he expected me to explain how the Seventh Heaven deal wasrelated, but I didn’t feel like explaining the business with theITEOD files.
“You said the false report came fromPrometheus.”
“It did.”
“But the negotiations with Seventh Heaven arebeing conducted on Epimetheus?”
“Oh, there’s definitely been activity on bothplanets.”
“Then if these events are connected, Iam dealing with a conspiracy, and not a lone assassin.”
“Well, it’s not a single individual, actingentirely alone,” I agreed. “But your assassin might just have hiredhelp. Or bought it.”
“Ah. Software might be conducting thenegotiations with Seventh Heaven.”
“Yes. And software might have made the phonydeath report.”
“Interesting.”
“Do you have any idea why anyone would wantto buy Seventh Heaven?”
“Just the local franchise, or the parentcompany?”
“The local franchise. I don’t care aboutanything on Mars, or anywhere else outside our system.”
He shook his head. “Their prospects are notgood. The resident population of Nightside City is less than halfwhat it was before the first light topped the crater wall, andthose who remain are more likely to invest in a ticket off-planetthan in a dream company’s services. They have failed to establishthemselves anywhere else in the Eta Cass system, not even elsewhereon Epimetheus; the franchise operators don’t seem to haveconsidered it worth investing the necessary capital, and the coststo start now would be prohibitive. Seventh Heaven’s presentbusiness model has no future, and I am unaware of any plans torefocus their resources.”
“Oh, I know no one’s stupid enough to wantthem as they are now,” I said. “I was thinking about whether theyhave anything that could be valuable in some completely differentway. Their dream library, maybe?”
“Their library is unremarkable,” the old mansaid.
I didn’t bother asking how he could be sure,or what standards he used to evaluate it; I didn’t doubt he knewwhat he was talking about. Instead I asked, “What else do theyhave?”
“You believe this is relevant?”
“It might be. I don’t know. If I can showthat it isn’t, that’s one less dead link to explore.”
He considered for a moment, then said, “Theirassets consist of the tanks, which have no obvious use other thantheir present one; the trust fund that is intended to fundmaintenance until their last client dies; the dream library; adiminished sales staff; long-term leases on property in Trap Under;and their client contracts. The sales staff and library arecompletely unremarkable.”
“That trust fund-is that worth chasing?”