“Social evening. The new wing’s open. We’ve moved again. We didn’t plan to.”
“And you just got lonesome for our company,” Jordan said.
“Drop the barbs. I got worried. There’s been an explosion at the up‑river construction. We don’t know if there’s anything going on here, but since you draw trouble the way I did, I borrowed a couple of Ari’s guards and came looking.”
“An attack on the construction. Interesting. And a couple of Ari’s guards in attendance. I should be flattered.”
“It’s nothing. It’s probably just an accident, hit a gas pocket in a dieoff area, something like that. Methane. Blew a new precip tower to bits. Security’s on alert, nonetheless. They’re not letting anybody onto the grounds.”
“We heard the announcement,” Jordan said glumly.
At least Mark and Gerry had taken off the helmets and the lights on their gear didn’t show. The waitress was over there. They were making their order, likely soft drinks. Maybe sandwiches.
“Well, I was going to call you. We’d just had one thing after the other. We took an early supper, headed home from the restaurant to find out we’d been moved–my number hasn’t changed, neither has Grant’s. Office, the whole thing. Then we had a note on the minder we were due at a reception not that long after, so we didn’t actually change for that. Just went. Had a few drinks, so I’m at max. I was going to call you in the morning…”
“We just heard the warning sound,” Jordan said, “and there hadn’t been any advisement they were going to make weather, so we figured it must be a natural storm. Guess not. Methane, eh?”
Sometimes the web of lies he told Jordan just overloaded. Sometimes, if things were ever going to be different, there had to be a dose of truth. “Fact is,” he said, lowering his voice, “it probably wasn’t. Somebody apparently blew up the tower up at the new construction.”
“Somebody?”
“The usual suspicion goes to the Paxers. But that would be major for them, a real break with habit.”
“Logistics.” Jordan had leaned forward, and Paul had too, both of them, just taking it in, and for the first time in a long time, there was no bitter edge. “How in hell did they get through?”
“They needed river transport,” Justin said. “They had to get either up‑river past Reseune or downriver.”
“Out of Svetlansk,” Jordan said, “maybe. Downriver saves fuel.”
“Not much civilization up there,” Paul said, “or wasn’t–last we knew.”
“Mining, shipping, plenty of opportunity to lay hands on explosives. Unless things have changed.”
“Not much to stop them going ashore at the new construction,” Justin said. “No filtration equipment like here. No weir. No bots. All they’d need to do would be get a boat somewhere, load it with something–go ashore in suits, get out again.”
“So what,” Jordan asked with sudden sharp focus, “would anybody at Svetlansk have against whatever’s going on at this new construction?”
And how much to tell Jordan? How many secrets to dance around? He’d gotten a response with the truth, a real change of disposition out of Jordan. He could make Ari mad. But Ari said she wanted to help Jordan. And was thatthe truth?
“Jordan,” he said, “I’m going to tell you something I don’t want to go beyond you and Paul. The new construction is another township in the works. Name of Strassenberg.”
“Strassenberg.” Jordan gave a short, bitter laugh. “My God. She’s building a city.”
But he kept his voice down when he said it.
“Dad, I’m about as close to Ari as I can get. And that’s likely to be a permanent arrangement.” Jordan drew back a little at that, and Justin brought his hand down on Jordan’s, pinning it. “Just listen to me. Permanent arrangement. It’s where I live. I’m not her lover. I’m her teacher. And I’m not inclined to say no.”
“Clearly it pays well.”
“I want to do it. Dad. I get things out of the arrangement…”
“Oh, I’ll bet you do.”
“Listen to me! She’s damned smart, is that a surprise? But I get access to the first Ari’s notes, so you should know money isn’t the game. Neither is sex.” Jordan tried to move the hand and he held it, hard. “Listen. Talk to me about this. I want you to understand me, just once. I’m learning. I missed a hell of a lot during the bad years. Same as you. I’m getting a break, and I’m taking it. I don’t think that’s such a bad deal.”
“Count your change. That’s all I’ll say.”
“She’ll use some of the things I know, yes. But meanwhile I get input in what’s going on in the world, I get some policy input, and that’s important. I get to have a say.”
“Sure. As long as you agree with her you’ll have a major say. Wake up.”
“I’ll have to see how it plays out. I won’t know. But I’m not locking myself away from the chance.”
“You look pretty well locked away to me. You don’t get a say in who you can let in’ the door–do you?”
“Dad. Eventually, yes. This isn’t the time…”
“Bullshit.” Jordan jerked his hand free. “Paul. Have you had enough?”
“We’ll walk you back,” Justin said.
“The hell. With those two over there? The hell you will. Paul. Come on.” He stood up. Looked down at Justin. “You’re rich. You pay the bill.”
“Sit down. Please.”
“No, thanks.”
Jordan headed for the door, Paul in his wake.
Justin got up. Grant did. “Grant,” Justin asked him, “pay the bill.”
“We don’t split up.” Grant said. “If you go after him, we go.”
“Grant, just for God’s sake, take care of it.” He shoved through the narrow gap between two occupied chairs and started to leave, and Grant did, both of them heading for the door, but Jordan and Paul were already outside.
“Hey!” a female voice yelled.
They knew the waitress. Justin stopped, half‑turned to show his face in the dim ambient light. “Justin Warrick, Greta, just put it on my tab. All of it.” He could see their guards on their feet and starting out. He turned, hardly having stopped moving, and got out the door.
A presence at the side caught his eye–two ReseuneSec agents and Jordan and Paul up against the frontage of the bar–familiar sight, but not familiar with his father and Paul involved.
“Hey!” Justin said, and immediately faced a drawn stunner. He raised his hands to show them vacant. Grant did.
And about that time two more on their side came out of the bar.
Guns came next.
“For God’s sake!” Justin exclaimed. “We’re on the same side!”
“Interfering in an arrest,” one of the outside guards said.
“On what grounds?” Jordan shot back.
Justin, hands still lifted, said, “Dad, just shut up!”
“Both of you, up against the wall.”
“Don’t move!” That, from one of their own pair. “Don’t anybody move. They’re under our watch.”
“Where’s your orders?” one of the others asked. “Who are you?”
“Mark BM, special assignment, Alpha Wing.”
“There isn’t any Alpha Wing.”
“There is,” Justin said, “as of today.”
“Shut up,” the agent advised him. “Get over there.”
“Ser Warrick isn’t moving,” Mark said. “Special assignment, Ariane Emory’s personal guard. Alpha Wing. Ser Warrick. Stand away from the wall.”
“Don’t move!”
“Call–” Justin began to suggest, and flinched and shut up when he heard the hum of a stunner.
“We will shoot if you fire that.” That was the other voice from his side. “Gerry GB, Alpha Wing. Call your headquarters.”
Justin stood still. Grant did. They’d drawn a crowd. “Hell of a fix,” he said, and remembered what he had in his pocket. And he didn’t dare reach for it. He found occasion to lower his hands a degree. In case.
“Stand still!”
“This is a warning,” Gerry said. “We are authorized. Call your headquarters.”
“Better do it,” Justin muttered. “Director Hicks is going to be damned mad if you and her security start shooting at each other. Let me get my com and I’ll call Yanni Schwartz if you want to take the chance.”