Code of Conduct (17 page)

If they do not speak of it, it does not exist. If they do not think of it, it goes away
. Illuminating thoughts, perhaps. Explanations of humanish behavior. But not logical. Tsecha relaxed into his chair, allowing the framing to stab him where it would and thus focus his mind.
They are not as idomeni
. But in some future time, they would be.
And idomeni will be as they
. Rather sooner, that inevitability, if his Council's behavior with regard to the idomeni sicknesses was indication. The thought made him hesitate.
John and I as one
.

From far away, the tones announcing his late-afternoon sacrament sounded. Tsecha rose as quickly as his bent, inflexible seat allowed, but not before resetting the comport for internal communication and notifying Security of his wish for a conference.

John and I as one
.

Tsecha pressed his open left palm against his stomach, a gesture of supplication. Perhaps, for one of his standing, to understand fully was not to be, but the gift of some intimation struck him as most seemly—

John and I as one
.

—and greatly to be wished.

A jovial “Come in, Risa” sounded through the door just as Jani raised her hand to knock. The panel swung open in a whispery combination of mechanics and the brush of door edge over expensive carpet. She stepped onto the dark grey pile and experienced the fleeting sensation of the ground giving way beneath her as her boots sank in to just below the ankle.

Original artwork she recognized from holozines decorated the light grey walls. As she crossed the room toward Ridgeway, ensconced behind his desk, she was treated to a wall-spanning backdrop of the lake, tastefully muted through glare-filtering scanglass.
Large body of water as office accessory—very nice
.

Ridgeway made no effort to rise until Jani reached his desk. Only then did he execute a quick half-up-and-be-seated. His smile held the same consideration. “Nice of you to be so prompt,” he muttered breathlessly as he gestured for her to sit. “It's been a hell of a day.” An errant lock of hair provided emphasis by flopping over his forehead.

Hope I helped
. Jani smiled wanly and held her tongue.

“I do try to promote an environment which is conducive to cooperation, Risa—”

I doubt that
.

“—and Lord knows I'm no micromanager—”

I'd have guessed pico
-.

“—but is it too much to expect a reasoned approach to tasks at hand? Circumspection? Forethought? Is it too much
to ask of people that they think things through?”

As though on cue, the door opened, and Ridgeway's aide entered. He still looked like the enemy artillery barrage had stretched into the third day with no end in sight. Jani shot a “take heart” grin at him, but he avoided her eye as he placed a black-edged file folder on the desk in front of Ridgeway.

“Thank you, Greer.” Ridgeway's smile curdled as he opened the folder, positioning it so Jani couldn't see what it contained, and paged through it while Greer exited silently. Then, eyes bright and predatory, he leaned across the desk and splayed the folder's contents over the bare, polished bloodwood in front of her. “A rendezvous in the snow,” he said, triumph causing his voice to quaver. “How romantic.”

Jani surveyed what lay before her. Sceneshots—one short sequence per panel. Snippets of action, intercutting middle distance and zoom, replayed themselves every few seconds in a rolling series. The holographer had been selective. The first display showed her diving behind the log, but not her scrabble for rocks. The angle and replay speed of the second sequence made her attempted flattening of Lucien look like a playful shove. The third scene stopped just as Lucien flipped her on her back. The overall impression given was, to say the least, incriminating.

Just some playful precoital wrestling. Never mind the windchill—lust conquers all
. Jani pulled in a slow, painful breath. She'd checked the condition of her stiff upper back in a restroom mirror upon her return to Interior Main. The dinner-plate-sized bruise had bloomed nicely, thank you, Lucien.

The fourth scene showed her and the lieutenant making their way down the forest path, the angle of the shot hiding the shooter trained on her back.

“Circumspection.” Ridgeway clucked softly. “Forethought. You aren't the first slimy little traitor to lack either of those vital qualities.” His gloating smile threatened to split his face in two. “Your ass is mine now, Tyi. Evan won't let you get away with this.”

Jani looked from Ridgeway to the sceneshots with a lack of concern that bothered her in an abstract way. It was as though she watched the missteps of a character in a play. Augie picked the damnedest times to overstay his welcome.
Ridgeway apparently wondered at her reaction as well. His smile wavered.

“Interesting,” she managed, eliciting sounds of choking from across the desk. On another level, her mind raced. A frame, but by whom?
Ulanova
? She seemed petty enough, jealous of what she perceived to be Lucien's attachment.
But you'd think she'd try to wring something out of me before hanging me out to dry
.

“Ms. Tyi, you are in a great deal of trouble, you know. I've been informed the man in these sceneshots is mainline Service. An Exterior Ministry Security officer.”

Could be the PM
. Keeping tabs on her prodigal van Reuter, trolling for tidbits.
Or any of the other ministers, for that matter—they wouldn't even have to be anti-Evan, necessarily
. Hell, anyone who could adapt a holoremote to get past sensescan could have taken those shots. Newssheets. Gossip rags. Lucien, the gadget expert, for the hell of it.

Bâtard
, indeed.

Ridgeway cocked his head. “Are you listening to me, Ms. Tyi?”

Jani sat back. Her chair was designed to make the occupant feel off-balance—spindly, hard of seat, and tilted forward slightly. It didn't work. For visitor intimidation, Ridgeway should have tried idomeni furniture. Jani had, on countless occasions, sat through hours-long Academy exams in chairs that had treated her back in much the same way Lucien had.

“I doubt you did this,” she said to Ridgeway, indicating the panels. “If you had, I don't believe you'd have bothered to show them to me first. You would have gone directly to His Excellency.” She gripped her armrests as a helium bubble expanded in the depths of her skull. “And here you probably felt like Christmas made a second pass.” She took a deep breath in an effort to dispel her lightheadedness. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Ridgeway leaned so far forward he was in danger of pitching out of his chair. “You are a traitor—”

“Speaking of traitors,” Jani interrupted, “I've come upon something interesting.” The calmness of her voice fascinated her. She'd never been adept at extemporaneous self-defense—the results reflected in her Service record. Augie never both
ered to kick in at those lower stress levels. So why was he being so helpful now? “His Excellency's father apparently made hash of the Bilateral Accord some years ago. He colluded with the Laumrau during the idomeni civil war and managed to have some of their augmentation technology smuggled back to Earth. Martin, it seems, paid the bulk of the fine for that particular violation.”

“Careful how you speculate,” Ridgeway said. His eyes still shone, but his voice had weakened.

“The technology came from a research hospital, a place called Knevçet Shèràa.” Jani bit out the
c
as Ulanova had, gave “Shèràa” the two-syllable treatment instead of entoning the double-
a
upturn at the end, and sat on her hands to avoid gesturing. God, she hated sounding like an Earthbound hick. “Rumor has it that in order to eliminate possible witnesses, he ordered the deaths of the Service troops stationed there. Just imagine, multiple counts of premeditated murder. Oh, and let's not forget the treason.” She smiled. “Nice to have something in common with a man of Acton van Reuter's standing, I suppose.”

Ridgeway licked his lips. “Acton's dead,” he said. From his tone, he didn't seem altogether sure.

“Yes, but the sins of the father, Durian. They matter to idomeni, and they make humans sit up as well. The shrapnel from this bombshell just might take out our boss.” She looked into Ridgeway's eyes.
Don't tell me you didn't know
. Oh, he knew—knowing went a long way toward explaining his lack of cooperation in providing her Evan's documents.

Ridgeway fingered his chin. “Risa—”

Oh, it's “Risa” again, is it
?

“—I don't know what to say.” He appeared genuinely thoughtful. “Lieutenant Pascal told you this?”

So, no one traced me to the Parkway—sloppy
. That implied a stationary cam, perhaps in the Private House. Well, it saved a lot of explaining, although it did make Jani wonder how secure her office really was. “The information was there for the taking.” No reason to disclose who offered it.

Ridgeway's manner became very clipped. Perhaps he associated that with professionalism. “Did Pascal attempt to
interfere with you in any way while he served as your steward on the
Arapaho
?”

Now it was Jani's turn to sound surprised. “So you knew about that?” Ridgeway's stare offered no reply. “Nothing I couldn't handle.” She thought back to her lunches with Lucien. They had spent most of the time laughing over whatever human weakness he had exploited that particular ship-day. “I think he'd grown used to manipulating through his looks and charm. I saw no reason to disabuse him of his notion.”

Ridgeway nodded sagely. “Brave of you.”

Jani shrugged. “Solo older woman coming in from a long-term colony assignment. He probably figured me for an easy target.” She looked away from Ridgeway's developing smirk.
I'll be sorry I said that
. Big mouth returns. Looked like augie had finally folded his tent.

Ridgeway swung his feet onto his desk. He'd changed clothes since their morning altercation. His pale green socks peeked through the gap between his black half boots and coal grey trousers. They matched his loosened neckpiece, which in turn contrasted nicely with his medium grey shirt.
Occupant as office accessory—very nice
. The look he bestowed on Jani wouldn't have qualified as friendly. More like superior, but without the gloat. “Will you continue to see this man?” He wasn't quite able to control the lively curiosity in his voice. The idea of operating as a pimp for the House seemed to appeal to him.

“I'll play it for as long as it runs,” Jani replied blandly.

“It bothers me that Ulanova has zeroed in on Acton again.” Ridgeway pursed his lips. “She'd gone after him once before, of course, but that was before his death. Oh, dear Anais had her claws out for him—make no mistake. Back in the Dark Ages, he alternated between undercutting Scriabin business concerns and aiming Anais's younger sister at David Scriabin. Unfortunately, David was engaged to Anais at the time. The scandal when David and Milla eloped was horrendous. Poor Anais never really recovered from the humiliation.” He glanced at Jani and smiled coolly. “I appreciate your help, Risa, really I do. I understand what it must have taken out of you. Do you suppose any of this may tie in with Lyssa's death?”

Jani stifled a yawn. Her head felt heavy—a nap sounded tempting. But she wanted to visit the Library. Then she needed to get ready for dinner with Evan. “It was implied to me that several Families were involved in the importation of the augmentation technology. If you believe Lyssa had discovered what had been done to her son and was trying to figure out who was responsible at the time of her death…” She let the sentence peter out, punctuating the silence with a raised eyebrow.

“Good God!” Ridgeway became positively buoyant, no doubt envisioning how many of Evan's rivals he could scuttle by linking them to a murder plot. “I'm going to have to meet with Colonel Doyle as soon as possible.” He sat up straight and tightened his neckpiece. “Well, you've blown my evening all to hell, Risa, but I think the results may well prove worth the inconvenience.” He hesitated noticeably. “You're welcome to sit in, of course.”

“You—” Jani stopped her personal commentary in time. “You are too kind, Durian, but I'll be dining with His Excellency this evening.” She ignored his arch look. “By the way, those files we discussed this morning. Could I have them, please?”

“Of course.” Ridgeway grinned. Grin, hell, he bubbled. In a week, he'd be telling people hiring Risa Tyi was his idea. “In fact,” he said, “let's get some drudgery out of the way now.”

A few intercommed orders to the frazzled Greer later, Jani found herself in possession of a Class A Interior expense voucher (no manager approval necessary unless she tried to buy something substantial, like Chicago), parts bin and repair chits, and other pieces of paper and plastic designed to make the favored Interior employee's life easier. The promised files, however, were held up in document limbo. Jani would have to wait for those until tomorrow. Ridgeway apologized profusely as he walked her all the way to the outer-office door, adding they would have to have dinner “very soon.”

Can't wait
. Jani trudged down the hall, wondering what exactly she had opened herself up to. True, she'd gotten Ridgeway off her back, but it crossed her mind he might attempt to reap some of the benefits he thought her to be bestowing
on Lucien and Evan. She wandered down the wrong hallway, backtracked, then found herself standing before the doorway leading to the alternate breakroom.
What would I do
? Probably whatever he wanted. Ridgeway, Jani sensed, was the sort of man who thought staking a claim in a woman's vagina locked up the rest of her as well. A risky assumption, but fortunately, not a rare one. On more than one occasion, her continued good health had depended upon her working that assumption to its limits.

Sometimes, it's whatever gets you from here to there
. She was glad to find the breakroom empty. She spent a few minutes straightening the snack table, then cleaned and reloaded the brewer. Soon the aroma of fresh coffee filled the room and her stomach, having recovered from its bout with Ascertane, responded by growling each time she inhaled. She rummaged around for a cup, then settled into a battered corner seat.

Ridgeway let me off easy. He could have bounced me off three walls and the ceiling besides, and he caved as soon as I brought up Acton
.

Nimble little counter-jumper
, Anais Ulanova would have said.
Knows how to keep his feet under him
. One option, if Ridgeway felt Jani had uncovered knowledge he wished to keep buried, would be to shower her with bounty. She reached into her shirt pocket for the expense voucher. Silver, in contrast to Lucien's red, with a discreet scripted
a
in the lower left hand corner that she hadn't recalled seeing on the lieutenant's card.
Anything within reason, and maybe a thing or two without
, Ridgeway had said when he handed it to her.
Just be discreet
.