‘It’s possible, alright.’
‘Yes. It’s just not very likely.’ She turned away from Schneider and faced me. ‘It’s hard to be sure – a lot of the glyphs were like nothing I’d ever seen before, and they’re hard to read, but I’m pretty certain there’s a power brake built in. Above certain velocities, nothing gets through.’
‘You don’t know that for certain.’ Schneider was sulking. ‘You said yourself you couldn’t—’
‘Yes, but it makes sense, Jan. You don’t build a door into hard space without some kind of safeguard against the junk you’re likely to find out there.’
‘Oh, come on Tanya, what about—’
‘Lieutenant Kovacs,’ said Hand loudly. ‘Perhaps you could come with me down to the shoreline. I’d like a military perspective on the outlying area, if you wouldn’t mind.’
‘Sure.’
We left Wardani and Schneider bickering among the rocks, and set out across the expanse of blued sand at a pace dictated largely by Hand’s shoes. To begin with, neither of us had anything to say, and the only sounds were the quiet compression of our steps in the yielding surface underfoot and the idle lapping of the sea. Then, out of nowhere, Hand spoke.
‘Remarkable woman.’
I grunted.
‘I mean, to survive a government internment camp with so little apparent scarring. That alone must have taken a tremendous effort of will. And now, to be facing the rigours of technoglyph operational sequencing so soon…’
‘She’ll be fine,’ I said shortly.
‘Yes, I’m sure she will.’ A delicate pause. ‘I can see why Schneider is so burned on her.’
‘That’s over, I think.’
‘Oh, really?’
There was a fractional amusement buried in his tone. I shot him a narrow sideways glance, but his expression was blank and he was looking carefully ahead at the sea.
‘About this military perspective, Hand.’
‘Oh, yes.’ The Mandrake exec stopped a few metres short of the placid ripples that passed for waves on Sanction IV and turned about. He gestured at the folds of land rising behind us. ‘I’m not a soldier, but I would hazard a guess that this isn’t ideal fighting ground.’
‘Got it in one.’ I scanned the beach end to end, looking vainly for something that might cheer me up. ‘Once we get down here, we’re a floating target for anyone on the high ground with anything more substantial than a sharp stick. It’s an open field of fire right back to the foothills.’
‘And then there’s the sea.’
‘And then there’s the sea,’ I echoed gloomily. ‘We’re open to fire from anyone who can muster a fast assault launch. Whatever we have to do here, we’ll need a small army to keep us covered while we do it. That’s unless we can do this with a straight recon. Fly in, take pictures, fly out.’
‘Hmm.’ Matthias Hand squatted and stared out over the water pensively. ‘I’ve talked to the lawyers.’
‘Did you disinfect afterwards?’
‘Under incorporation charter law, ownership of any artefact in non-orbital space is only considered valid if a fully operational claim buoy is placed within one kilometre of said artefact. No loopholes, we’ve looked. If there’s a starship on the other side of this gate, we’re going to have to go through and tag it. And from what Mistress Wardani says, that’s going to take some time.’
I shrugged. ‘A small army, then.’
‘A small army is going to attract a lot of attention. It’ll show up on satellite tracking like a holowhore’s chest. And we can’t really afford that, can we?’
‘A holowhore’s chest? I don’t know, the surgery can’t be that expensive.’
Hand cocked his head up to stare at me for a moment, then emitted an unwilling chuckle. ‘Very droll. Thank you. We can’t really afford to be satellite-tagged, can we?’
‘Not if you want an exclusive.’
‘I think that goes without saying, lieutenant.’ Hand reached down and idly traced a pattern on the sand with his fingers. ‘So then. We have to go in small and tight and not make too much noise. Which in turn means this area has to be cleared of operational personnel for the duration of our visit.’
‘If we want to come out alive, yes.’
‘Yes.’ Unexpectedly, Hand rocked back on his heels and dumped himself into a sitting position in the sand. He rested his forearms on his knees and seemed lost in searching the horizon for something. In the dark executive suit and white winged collar, he looked like a sketch by one of the Millsport absurdist school.
‘Tell me, lieutenant,’ he said finally. ‘Assuming we can get the peninsula cleared, in your professional opinion, what’s the lower limit on a support team for this venture? How few can we get away with?’
I thought about it. ‘If they’re good. Spec ops, not just plankton-standard grunts. Say six. Five, if you use Schneider as flyer.’
‘Well, he doesn’t strike me as the sort to be left behind while we look after his investment for him.’
‘No.’
‘You said spec ops. Do you have any specific skills in mind?’
‘Not really. Demolitions, maybe. That rock fall looks pretty solid. And it wouldn’t hurt if a couple of them could fly a shuttle, just in case something happens to Schneider.’
Hand twisted his head round to look up at me. ‘Is that likely?’
‘Who knows?’ I shrugged. ‘Dangerous world out there.’
‘Indeed.’ Hand went back to watching the place where the sea met the grey of Sauberville’s undecided fate. ‘I take it you’ll want to do the recruiting yourself.’
‘No, you can run it. But I want to sit in, and I want veto on anyone you select. You got any idea where you’re going to get half a dozen spec ops volunteers? Without ringing any alarm bells, I mean.’
For a moment I thought he hadn’t heard me. The horizon seemed to have him body and soul. Then he shifted slightly and a smile touched the corners of his mouth.
‘In these troubled times,’ he murmured, almost to himself, ‘it shouldn’t be a problem finding soldiers who won’t be missed.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
He glanced up again and there were still traces of the smile clinging to his mouth.
‘Does that offend you, Kovacs?’
‘You think I’d be a lieutenant in Carrera’s Wedge if I offended that easily?’
‘I don’t know.’ Hand looked back out to the horizon again. ‘You’ve been full of surprises so far. And I understand that Envoys are generally pretty good at adaptive camouflage.’
So.
Less than two full days since the meeting in the auction hall, and Hand had already penetrated the Wedge datacore and unpicked whatever shielding Carrera had applied to my Envoy past. He was just letting me know.
I lowered myself to the blued sand beside him and picked my own point on the horizon to stare at.
‘I’m not an Envoy any more.’
‘No. So I understand.’ He didn’t look at me. ‘No longer an Envoy, no longer in Carrera’s Wedge. This rejection of groupings is verging on pathological, lieutenant.’
‘There’s no verging about it.’
‘Ah. I see some evidence of your Harlan’s World origins emerging. The essential evil of massed humanity, wasn’t that what Quell called it?’
‘I’m not a Quellist, Hand.’
‘Of course not.’ The Mandrake exec appeared to be enjoying himself. ‘That would necessitate being part of a group. Tell me, Kovacs, do you hate me?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Really? You surprise me.’
‘Well, I’m full of surprises.’
‘You honestly have no feelings of rancour towards me after your little run-in with Deng and his squad.’