“So,” she drew the word out with care, “you are Shiv Neru’s sister.”
“I am. And your own sister runs the Moonlit Joy Escort Agency?” I kept my tone lightly quizzical without being critical. Who was I to judge anyone by their family?
“She does. Using a back room in her premises provides additional discretion for my own business.”
“Which is what, exactly?” Shiv’s recording had provided me with a name—Ika—a contact number—which I had done a directory search on, along with as much other research as I could without spending serious cash—and his assurance that “Ika” was “doing a great job of bringing everything together.” And that was all I knew.
“I am a facilitator.”
As I thought: a fixer with pretentions. “Excellent. And what, exactly, were you facilitating for my brother?” I suspected she’d done more than facilitate him; she was in her twenties, mixed heritage (I’d guessed some Japanese from the name, but looking at her now I’d say mainly Indonesian), petite, stylish, and possessed of a weaponised smile. Exactly his type.
“A unique endeavour which, I believe, you know something of?”
Did she know about Shiv’s recording? “Something, yes.” With a job like this you had to strike the balance between compartmentalisation and coordination. Tell your people everything they might need to know—but no more. When I say “you,” I mean the money. But Shiv wasn’t the money. His recording had implied he was the brains behind the job, but a lot of the mental lifting, could be—probably should be—done by an individual like Ika. “Before I go any further, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask some direct and searching questions.”
Ika’s expression tightened, but she simply said, “I would expect nothing less.”
First things first. “Did you sleep with my brother?”
Her expression tightened further, then loosened. “Yes. Once.” The shark-smile settled back on her face. “Will that be a problem?”
“Not necessarily.” If it was just the once, then probably not. If it was more than a one-off then whatever he knew, she probably did too. “Do you know what the target of the job is?”
Not a waver in her expression this time. “The financier behind this operation has been most insistent on confidentiality and discretion.”
Which didn’t answer my question. I tried another tack. “Did this individual approach you directly about the job? Or did you hear about it through Shiv?” I looked up at a slight sound, and the humming I’d almost tuned out stopped. The boy came in with a tea tray. As he unloaded it I took a more thorough look around the room. It exhibited the characteristic Martian obsession with Feng Shui; I’d seen more Tara Mirrors, and breathed more flavours of incense in the last three days than in a year working at Everlight Europe. I put it down to spiritual over-compensation: bringing the familiar to an alien world. It was an odd juxtaposition with Ika’s expensive and discreet comms equipment.
As the boy positioned the teapot—genuine china, or an impressive fake—Ika said, “The blend is mainly Assam, so don’t let it brew too long. Thank you, Mani.”
When the boy closed the screen on his way out the hum re-started. I’d placed it while he was serving, as I’d been the one serving the tea during some delicate meetings back on Earth: Ika had jammers built into this room to stop eavesdropping, physical or electronic. She went up in my estimation.
Ika picked up a large but delicate-looking mug. She was having chai, from the smell of it. She blew on the drink, took a sip, then said, “I have been honest with you. May I now expect the same courtesy in return?”
“Of course.”
“I was not aware Shiv had a sister, and after your call this morning I did a little research. Imagine my surprise to find you are an employee of Everlight, and have only recently arrived from Earth. Given this, I must ask: why are you here?”
I poured myself a cup of tea, and I took a sip. The leaves could have brewed a little longer, but it was a quality blend, and if that wasn’t real milk it was an expensive substitute. Another point in this woman’s favour.
Ika was still waiting for an answer.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. Might as well have laid down on her sumptuous five-elements rug and bared my throat. “I’m still thinking it through. You’d be within your rights to refuse to cooperate with me, under the circumstances.”
She nodded and put down her mug. “I have been trying to think what your agenda might be, what you might hope to achieve in coming here, and the most likely answer is that you want to take on the job.”
“Or to find out why my brother died.” That had been what I’d told myself when I called Ika to arrange our meeting.
“A noble motivation. It was a flyer accident, I believe.”
“And do you? Really believe that, I mean.”
“I have no idea. I don’t go outside the domes if I can help it.”
“But you appreciate the sort of things that can go wrong, and the sort of people who can make them go wrong.”
“That’s my job, but without knowing exactly what Shiv planned, I couldn’t offer any meaningful suggestions.”
I could almost believe she hadn’t known what Shiv was up to. Almost. “If I did take this on it would require specialists. Shiv mentioned a couple but we’d have to recruit more.”
“I have made some initial approaches. Nothing has come of it, obviously.”
“Why not?”
“This was Shiv’s job. He told me only what I needed to know.”
She was consistent, I’d say that for her. “Ah, I got the impression you’ve had direct contact with the financier. So you don’t know enough to take this on yourself?”
“The gentlemen in question made it clear he was looking for someone to lead in the field. In conducting my business, I never leave this room. I have suggested others who might coordinate the job but he appears to be looking for a certain type of person. If you think you might be that person then I would be willing, for a nominal fee, to put you in touch with him.”
“I can’t pay you.”
“Hmm. You really have burnt your bridges, haven’t you, Ms. Choi?” She leaned in to toy with the handle of her chai mug. “In the spirit of our continued honesty, I will say that I would very much like this job to be successful.”
“Even though you don’t know what it is?”
“I knew Shiv and liked him. More importantly, I know how much we can all make from this.”
“So it’s in your interests to put me in touch with your man?”
She stared at the drink and pursed her perfect lips. “I will see what I can do.”
Even though Ika and I had danced round each other, I’d given more than I’d taken. She called the next morning, inviting me back to her parlour/office. “I will leave you to take this call in private. You may rest assured that what passes between you will not be overheard.”
“Or recorded?”
“I have my reputation to think of.”
Which wasn’t the same as saying “No.”
I waited until the door was shut before acknowledging the flashing icon on her largest screen.
Ika had referred to the financier as “he” but it was hard to tell from the image. Features blurred into a generic headshot; probably Caucasian and with a masculine hairstyle, but that was all I could tell. The background was a mash of muted brown and orange. Most likely the whole image was an artefact.
“Greetings, Ms. Choi.”
The voice was low-register and probably male, though it was as modulated as the image was pixellated.
“Hello. What should I call you?”