“Page 183.23,” he said to Grant, a little troubled by what he saw.
Grant flipped pages, settled.
A little line appeared between Grant’s brows.
The station had been playing old tape of Spurlin, discussing Gorodin’s term as Proxy, Gorodin’s death–natural causes, that; then commentators discussing Spurlin’s suspicious death and the fact the special team at the University Hospital hadn’t published a cause of death–discussing Khalid’s last administration, familiar stuff to anybody who hadn’t been living in the outback for the last ten years–including the famous argument with young Ari–over and over and over. They’d turned the audio way down.
But the breaking news flasher went on, and Justin said, “Minder, sound.”
Audio came up. “ The five minute alert has been given. We are five minutes away from hearing the results of…”
BOOK THREE Section 5 Chapter iii
JULY 25, 2424
1940H
“…the Bureau of Defense election,”the vid said, and the web didn’t get the results or relay them any faster–just the timelag between Cyteen Station, where the counting was done, and Novgorod, where the news station resided. Base One, directly receiving the satellite, was a fraction faster than the news station.
Microdifference, in the scheme of things. Ari forced herself to have a sip of water and waited as the minute counter ran. Florian and Catlin, Marco and Wes, and Theo and Jory all watched the big screen. Nobody said anything.
She had contingencies in mind. She hadn’t said what they were, because she didn’t want even her most intimate staff knowing what she’d do in certain instances, in case that what‑she’d‑do changed someday, putting staff at disadvantage.
Second sip of water.
The seconds ticked down. Two minutes and fewer.
She put a call through to Amy’s apartment, where all the gang was. “Amy? Ari here.”
Amy answered, nearly instantly. “ Ari?”
“Listening, I take it. If it’s Spurlin I’ll send champagne down there. If it’s Khalid–you’re on your own. In either case–I’m going to be busy for a bit. Hang on.”
“We’re with you,”Amy said.
Twenty‑one seconds. Fifteen. Ten. Five.
The flasher came up, computer‑generated, the actual tally of votes, and the result.
Spurlinby 65 percent.
“We elected the dead man,” she said, and let go a breath as her staff visibly relaxed and as cheers erupted in Amy’s apartment. “Just a second.” She punched in Yanni’s office while the gang celebrated. “Yanni.”
“Told you”Yanni said.
“I told you,” she said. “Go have a party. I have my own to go to.”
“Not a tear for poor old Spurlin.”
“What for? We got his revenge for him. Just carry on what we’re doing.”
The autopsy had come in. Delicate death. A scarcely detectible drug, administered in the morning coffee. Murder. Council hadn’t wanted to announce that before the election. Now it was going to break, and occupy the news.
“…incumbent Councillor Jacques,”the news channel was saying, introducing its next speaker, and the staff paid absolutely silent attention.
“Jacques is on,” she said to Yanni. “Let him finish. Then go get some sleep.”
“I’ll wait to hear all of it,”Yanni said, and was silent while Jacques said…
“The Bureau of Defense mourns the passing of elected Councillor Spurlin, in which sentiment I know I am joined by candidate Vladislaw Khalid. The constitution provides that if a candidate for a Council seat dies between the closing of the polls and the reading of results, the incumbent Councillor for that bureau may, at his discretion, remain in office for the next term. I am opting to remain as Councillor for Defense. I will at a future date name a Proxy Councillor…”
Ari frowned. “Yanni.”
“I heard.”
“…as I see fit. Let us all join in paying tribute to a man…”
And so on.
“Did he agree? Is he still going to name Bigelow?”
“I don’t know what game he’s playing,”Yanni said. “I’m going to find out, but, dammit, this isn’t something for phone calls. Release the damned plane.”
Jacques, if Spurlin won posthumously, was supposed to have immediately named Gorodin’s long‑time aide, Vice Admiral Tanya Bigelow, as Proxy Councillor for Defense. All Jacques had to do then was warm that chair until they could organize another election, and Khalid, defeated, had to wait two years. It had all been handled.
Jacques had just gone sideways.
“ Ari?”
“Khalid got to him,” she said. “Khalid got to him. God, this isn’t looking like Paxer business, Yanni. This isn’t.”
“I’ve got to get down there,”Yanni said. “I’m taking plenty of security, but I have to get there. I have to talk to Jacques directly. Dammit, Ari, either take over right now, or don’t. Don’t try to steer from the passenger seat.”
She didn’t want to agree. She saw the situation, however, just the same as Yanni. And he was right this time. Jacques was under threat, or he’d been paid off, and she’d guess the former.
“Yanni, I’ll clear the flight. Protect Lynch. Above all, take care of yourself.”
Florian and Catlin had come over to her, where she sat with the mini, linked into the minder. They had a much quieter manner than a few moments ago. Marco and Wes joined them, just stood and waited.
“Yanni’s going to Novgorod,” she said, “to talk to Jacques. Someone’s gotten to him. Maybe Yanni can supply enough security to give him a little backbone. Khalid’s people killed Spurlin, I’ll bet on it. All of a sudden I’m wondering about Patil and Thieu.”
“Khalid is still up on the station,” Catlin said.
“And out of reach. Out of our reach. But he has fingers down here. We need to know where, and into what. We need to know why Jacques changed his mind. Yanni’s going to ask that question personally. He’s relying on Hicks’smen to protect him. I’m not liking this. I’m not liking this at all.”
“We’ll keep informed,” Florian said.
“Inform me,” she said, “at any hour of the day or night. If anything happens to Yanni, under Hicks’s protection–” She thought about it, about the danger of a man with that many keys to the systems…when the source of the danger might lie well within the impenetrable heart of another Bureau. “Get ready to take Hicks down, dead or alive, I’m imposing no conditions. Just don’t risk yourselves. Remember I can axe his accesses. If I hear anything untoward out of Novgorod, Hicks is gone.”
“Understood,” Catlin said, and then: “Sera?”
She looked up at Catlin.
“We know Hicks used to accompany Director Giraud to Novgorod. There were many meetings with Defense in Gorodin’s administration and in Khalid’s. He went a few days ago. For Yanni.”
Bureau heads met. Their representatives met. Hicks had indeed gone there a few days ago, talking to Jacques, carrying Yanni’s offer to Jacques; it went on all the time.