“Go on,” I said.
“Are you recording?”
“No,” I said, which was a lie, but what thehell.
“I believe that Yoshio Nakada had everyintention of circumventing these obstacles. However, he now hasreason to believe that the corruption of the corporate softwareavailable to him is far more extensive than he had realized when hespoke to you last night.”
Last night? I’d been thinking of it asearlier today. Not relevant; I ignored that and asked, “Whatreason?”
“He is unsure whether he can get Guohan andSebastian Hsing off Epimetheus safely, given the current meansavailable to him,” it said, which did not answer my question.
It shut up, and I stared at it for amoment.
“That’s it?” I said at last.
“That’s it,” it agreed.
“But that’s stupid,” I protested. “Everythinghe’d need is on Epimetheus, not in the Nakada family compound. Allhe has to do is send one message to a trustworthy human onEpimetheus!”
“No,” the floater said.
“Why the bloody hell not?” I demanded.
“Because all supposedly-secure corporatecommunications between Prometheus and Epimetheus have beenaffected. While he has established that there has beeninterference, Mis’ Nakada is unable to determine the nature orextent of the meddling. He attempted to contact Epimetheus afteryou left last night, and discovered that he cannot tell whether heis, in fact, speaking to a human on Epimetheus, or to a digitalsimulation-his usual security tests have been compromised. This wasnot the case when he made his preparations; something has changed.He suspects that when he met with you, his absence from his usualroutines was noted and prompted this action. It now appears thatthe conspiracy that… the conspiracy he is aware of is moreextensive than he thought, and there is literally no one employedby Nakada Enterprises on Epimetheus he feels he can trust with theassignment.”
I felt a creeping uneasiness somewhere in myspine.
“It’s that bad?” I asked.
“I don’t know, Hsing,” the floater said, “butMis’ Nakada thinks it is.”
The thing’s manner had changed. It had gonefrom formal and every centimeter a machine to its more familiarself. I guessed it was because it was back in its familiar groove,no longer stretching its instructions to the limit and telling methings it hadn’t been told to tell me.
“If the conspiracy, or whatever it is, isthat extensive, how do I even know he sent you?”
“If you agree to continue on his revisedterms, he will meet you in person to verify it.”
“Fine. How the hell does he expect me to stopit?”
“By finding the parties running it, ofcourse.”
I snorted. “Sure, that’s all,” I said.“Finding the people responsible for infiltrating one of the mostpowerful corporations in the galaxy, and exposing them-that’s easy,right? Hell, maybe it is easy, I don’t know. I’ve nevertried it.” I grinned at the floater. “But you know what must bepretty tricky? Staying alive while I do it. That’s got to betough!”
“But Hsing,” it said, “you’re good atthat.”
“Good at what?”
“At staying alive. You’re tough, Hsing-peoplehave tried to kill you, IRC tried to break you, but here youare.”
“Yeah, right,” I said. “The old man’s stayedalive six times as long as I have-he’s the one who’s good atit!” I shook my head. “And besides, if he can’t get ’Chan and myfather off Epimetheus, why should I work for him?”
“For the money?” the floater asked, as Ipaused for breath.
“No, thanks,” I said. “Money’s nice, but so’smaintaining decent odds of living to enjoy it. No family, no deal.That was what we recorded.” I reached up and signaled the privacyseal off; I didn’t see that we had anything more to talk about.“Guess I’ll be buzzing back to Alderstadt,” I said. “Good luck toyour boss.”
“Hsing, wait,” the floater said.
I didn’t answer, I just headed for the doorof the booth.
“Hsing, please,” it said. “I’m talkingto him now. Could you wait? He may have an offer to make.”
“What can he offer?” I asked, my hand on thedoor.
“Hsing,” the floater said, “he does have anoffer.”
“I don’t care,” I said.
“You will,” it stated flatly.
I hesitated, then turned back.
“All right,” I said. “Boot it up. What’s theoffer?”
“You get an unlimited expense account,” itsaid. “The corporation will pay any fines, bail you out, anything.You investigate the infiltration, conspiracy, whatever it is-onEpimetheus. There has definitely been covert activity there. Andwhile you’re there…”
“I get them out myself,” I finished.
I stared at the machine while I thought itover, stared at the metal that gleamed pink in the booth’s light,and the blue plastic that looked almost as black as the plasticstreets of Trap Under.
“You’ve got a deal,” I said at last.
Chapter Five
I’d never seen Epimetheus from space before; whenI’d left I hadn’t bothered to look.
I looked this time, and decided I hadn’tmissed much.
The ship I was in was Grandfather Nakada’sprivate yacht; the old man had personally escorted me aboard tohand over command. It had all the luxuries, including a live pilot,just in case the old man wanted something the software couldn’thandle. The pilot was a redheaded roundeye, tall, with a face Icould live with that wouldn’t win any awards, 100% natural as faras I could tell. When I asked, the ship told me his name was ColbyPerkins.
Wasn’t sure I’d heard it right at first, andsince the man himself wandered in just then I asked, “Your name’sPickens?”
“It’s Perkins,” he told me, blinking thosepale blue eyes of his-strange how many colors eyes can come in, butusually don’t. “Colby Perkins.”
“Perkins,” I said. “Got it. I knew someonenamed Pickens once, wondered if you were any relation.”
“No, Mis’, it’s not the same name at all.” Heseemed a little uneasy about something, wouldn’t keep his eyes onme, but it didn’t look serious. Maybe he just wasn’t used topassengers.
Or maybe I’m uglier than I thought.
At least he wasn’t family to Zar Pickens, whowelshed on me back on Epimetheus; I wouldn’t want anyone who sharedancestors with that human gritware to be piloting any ship I wason.
Whatever, I didn’t need to make himuncomfortable, so I looked out the window, and he went away.
Yes, window. Nakada’s yacht had big, fancywindows in the lounge, not just vid or holo. I could watchrealtime, direct and live, as we came in across the nightside andheaded for the field in Nightside City.
There wasn’t much to see. Just a lot ofdarkness, and a seething mass of silver-gray clouds in a giganticring at the storm line. If you get out further and look straightdown at the midnight pole the planet must look like a practicetarget, with the pale slushcap at the pole, and then the dark stonearound it, and then the circle of clouds where everythingprecipitates out of the upper-level air currents, and then darkstone again, and finally the bright line of the dayside at theedge. I suppose there would be occasional pixels of light at thevarious settlements, too.
I never saw it from that angle, though; wecame in low so it was just black and grey, no details anywhereuntil the lights of Nightside City sparkled on the horizon, and aninstant later the light of day spread across behind the city in along, widening arc like a cadcam construction, hot and golden.
I don’t like daylight, so I didn’t look anymore after that. I let Perkins, or maybe the ship, take us intoport, and when we were down I hit the ground. I wanted to movefast. The old familiar gravity made me feel light on my feet, readyto run.