Authors: Lois M. Bujold
Tags: #Science Fiction - Adventure, #Science Fiction - Space Opera, #Fiction - Science Fiction, #American Science Fiction And Fantasy, #Space Opera, #Modern & contemporary fiction (post c 1945), #Fiction, #Science fiction, #Science Fiction - General, #Adventure, #General, #Science Fiction And Fantasy
"But why was Jin here?" she asked, at a loss. "I'd left the children with my sister Lorna. I only thought I'd be gone overnight, maybe a day or two, until I could get a lawyer—eighteen
months
?"
"Do you remember being taken to be frozen? Who did it?"
Her brow furrowed in an effort of recall. "I was in what was supposed to have been a temporary cell, more of a room, really, at the municipal police station. A man came in. I thought he might be from my lawyer. There was a hypospray, then
.
.
." She shook her head, then winced. Post-revival headache, no doubt. His had been a doozy.
Hypnotic or knock-out drug, it hardly mattered which she had received. Miles suspected that not even more time to overcome any lingering cryo-amnesia—of which she showed very few signs—would recover anything after that.
"After you were illegally, or in any case extra-legally, frozen, your sister and brother-in-law naturally looked after their nephew and niece. I gather that Jin ran away from your sister due to conflicts over his creatures in her crowded household. Mina stayed on. She was doing well in her second year of primary school"—that seemed a safe assumption—"until I inadvertently caused Jin to be returned to his aunt, and they both ran away together to, well, me." At her
Why you?
look, he added, "Jin can tell you all the details when you see him." Miles hoped Jin was enough of a Barrayaran partisan by now to convey the Lord Auditor's good intentions. Good performance was still to be tested, unfortunately.
"But enough about me."
Let's talk about you
. It had been a very long time, thankfully, since Miles had attempted to pick up a woman in a bar—and even that had been in the line of duty—but his sense of desperate seduction wasn't altogether misplaced. He needed to persuade Lisa Sato to trust him, and quickly. "What was your connection with Seiichiro Leiber, and how did it come about?"
For a long moment he feared she was going to clam up again, but after another cool look, she began, "Seiichiro came to us—to our political action council—with a secret he'd discovered through his work."
"How many times did he visit you?"
"Two or three."
"Who all did he tell? Did he ever meet with all of you?"
"George and Eiko and me, at first. There was one later meeting with all of us, when we planned the rally—George Suwabi and me, Seiichiro, Lee Kang, Rumi Khosla, and Eiko Tennoji."
Those last names were all too familiar to Miles from his researches. "Let me guess. You decided to make a public announcement of the secret at the rally, where things went so wrong."
Her gaze flicked up from her lap to go knife-narrow at him. "It wasn't
our
people who made the trouble. We were hit by a counter-rally—a collection of thugs from the N.H.L.L. They were supposed to have stayed at the other end of the park, that night. We couldn't afford to rent a hall, and neither could they."
"Was it really the N.H.L.L., or could it have been a gang hired to impersonate them?"
"It was really them—I recognized a couple of the fellows involved. Locals."
"Mm, they might still have been employed for the task. Set upon you."
Her head tilted in consideration and half-agreement. "The police broke up the fight. There seemed to be an awful lot of police for the size of the scuffle, and they arrived very quickly. As if they'd already been warned. I saw several people with bleeding heads, or pushed to the ground." The memory seemed distressing; to her, it was literally only yesterday, Miles was reminded. "That's not the kind of protest we
ever
were. I think the N.H.L.L. is like the other side of the coin, literally, from the cryocorps. The N.H.L.L. frets about the money they don't have, the cryocorps fret about money they do have, and neither one cares about anyone's lives but their own."
A shrewd judgment, Miles thought. "May we come back to Dr. Leiber?"
And his secret
. "He does seem to have been the key man, in several senses."
She regarded him and seemed to come to a decision. "I suppose if you are some sort of bizarre cryocorp spy, you already know. And know that I know."
So what more is there to lose?
hung unspoken.
"For what it's worth, I already have a big pointer in the fact that Dr. Leiber researched preservation solution chemistry for NewEgypt Cryonics."
She gave a gingerly half-nod. "What Seiichiro had discovered was that a certain formulation of cryo-preservative that was on the market a generation or so ago broke down chemically after a few decades. There must be thousands, maybe millions of people who were treated with it locked up in the corps freezers who are truly dead, not revivable. Meaning their votes are void and their assets due to be returned to their heirs. There must be
billions
of nuyen at stake from that alone. And that's without even getting to the vast legal costs, plus all the procedures that will have to be devised to figure out which patrons from that period are which."
Miles blew out a soundless whistle, pieces of his puzzle slotting into place at light speed.
Commodified contracts, indeed!
Oh, he wanted an ImpSec meta-economics analyst to go with the forensic accountant from Escobar, and he wanted them
now
. With all the data-penetrating equipment they could carry, pre-keyed to the peculiarities of Kibou's planetary net.
And he'd order them the moment he was back at the consulate. But for the next few days, he was stuck with his old original organic brain. A used model, at that, sadly battered by all the wear and tear.
What he said out loud was, "Yeah, that would sure account for it all." Including, perhaps, poor Alice Chen, who'd been left by Leiber in Sato's place—as a decoy, or as a clue? Or as a time-bomb?
"We thought this was a revelation that could
truly
jolt the cryocorps' hold on Kibou," said Lisa Sato. "Even break their grip." She stared around her cubicle, down at her lately-thawed hands. "I suppose we were right." Her brow furrowed. "Wait. You mean to say they've still kept this silent for the past year and a half? It wasn't a secret the corps could keep forever—as more and more bad revives turn up from that generation, disproportionately, people are bound to notice the pattern. That's part of why George wanted to strike quickly, for the maximum public impact. Why didn't
.
.
.
oh." She turned suddenly bleak eyes upon Miles, who flinched in anticipation of what was coming next. "What happened to the six of us? Why didn't anyone get the word out, after I was taken away? Were we
all
taken away?"
"I am sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings, Madame Sato, but that's what it looks like. Kang, Khosla, and you were all frozen under questionable diagnoses within a few days of the rally. George Suwabi supposedly crashed his lightflyer into a lake, and Madame Tennoji fell from her apartment house balcony to her death, after excessive drinking. Needless to say, I should think it most interesting to see someone from your police homicide bureau re-open those two cases. Er
.
.
.
did
she drink to excess?"
She frowned, even paler about the mouth than her revival had left her. "Well, yes. She was in a lot of pain from her joint deterioration. But she didn't fall off of things. Oh, no, poor George.
.
.
."
"The odd man out in all this is Dr. Leiber. He simply went back to work for the past eighteen months."
"That makes no sense."
"Fortunately, I'm going to be able to ask him about it. When he wakes up."
"Was he frozen, too?"
"Ah, no. He had an encounter with a simple sedative this morning, according to my man Roic. Raven—Dr. Durona, that is—confirms. We've detained him here at Suze's while he sleeps it off. He was trying to leave the planet when Roic picked him up. Somebody else was trying to prevent him, I think. It's going to be an interesting interrogation." Miles hesitated. This was, after all, Jin and Mina's mother. Those two had to have inherited, or perhaps learned, some part of their admirable wits and determination from her. And you couldn't demand trust without giving some in return.
"Would you like to sit in?"
Chapter Fifteen
Miles was itching to get to Leiber, but was diverted by Roic to consider his other captives. Thanks to one of Raven's potions, both now slept peacefully on the floor of an empty office—or possibly abandoned utility closet—adjoining the underground garage of the former patient intake building. Roic had spent the time constructively going through wallets, IDs, and the lift van.
"This wasn't what you might call deep covert ops, here," Roic said, sorting out the wallets to demonstrate. "The van is registered to NewEgypt, and the scrubs they're wearing are company issue. They were carrying all their own identifications. Hans Witta and Okiya Cermak. Johannes did some back-checking. T' one is actually the senior officer for plant security, and t'other used to be a regular guard till eighteen months ago, when he got a big raise in pay and a promotion to
personal assistant
to his chief."
"Interesting," murmured Miles.
"Ayup. I'd say Dr. Leiber's kidnapping was something they put together in a hurry, out of resources they had to hand. If they'd nailed him at work, or anywhere on the NewEgypt properties, they wouldn't even have had to bother with that much. Thing is, now what do we do with 'em? We can't keep 'em sacked out on the floor forever. I mean, you got to let a man pee sometime. And their bosses have to know by now that something went wrong. Catch and release? I figured to set them back in their van not far from Leiber's hotel, and let them wake up on their own."
"Hm. Have you and Johannes rendered the van unlocatable?"
"Of course, m'lord," Roic said, his prim tone adding,
I do my job
.
"But they did see you."
"Unavoidable, I'm afraid. I don't think they saw Johannes, though."
"Is kidnapping kidnappers still kidnapping?" Miles mused.
"Yes," said Roic, unhelpfully.
"Not that NewEgypt is likely to bring charges."
"Naw, they'd do something else."
"I am reminded. I could have Suze freeze and store them for us, I suppose. Technically."
Roic gave him the Look.
"If push came to shove. As a Kibou-daini problem-solving technique, there seems to be precedent."
Roic said nothing, firmly.
"Ah, well," sighed Miles. "Lock the door and let them nap, for now. Onwards."
Working around Madame Sato's bio-isolation proved only a brief challenge. Miles set up his interrogation chamber in the empty booth next to hers, and lent her Raven's wristcom to listen in. With his booth brightly lit, hers not, and the curtain mostly drawn on her side of the glass wall, it was as good as a one-way mirror as long as she didn't move around too much. She understood, if perhaps did not entirely approve, his plan to split the interrogation into two parts, the first with Leiber unaware of her presence, to see if the same story was extracted both ways. Miles wasn't sure when to spring her on Leiber for maximum utility. It would doubtless come to him.
Leiber was still woozy when Raven and Roic guided him into the booth and sat him in a chair. Roic took a wall-propping pose against the door. With no bed, the booth wasn't exactly crowded even with the four of them, but its slightly claustrophobic air was more of a feature than a failing, in Miles's view.
"You again!" Leiber said, staring at Miles.
Raven, with a benevolent air, bent to press a hypospray against Leiber's arm.
Leiber jerked. "Fast-penta?" he growled, looking helpless and angry.
"Synergine," Raven soothed. "That headache should clear right up."
Leiber rubbed his arm and scowled, but, after pressing a suspicious hand to his forehead, blinked in surprise and, in a moment more, belief.
So, and when did you ever have fast-penta, that you can tell the difference?
Miles added the question to his long list. Miles waved Raven to a chair against the wall, and took one himself at a not-too-looming distance from his subject. Although to loom properly, he supposed he'd have to stand
on
the chair, which just wouldn't have the same effect. Best to delegate that task to Roic.
"So, Dr. Leiber. We might have saved steps by having this conversation day before yesterday, but I suppose your living room might have been monitored like your comconsole. Maybe it's just as well. Here, I can assure you, we are totally private." Miles smiled toothily.
Imperial Auditor, threat or menace? You decide
.
Leiber's lips moved,
My comconsole!
"Dammit, I thought I'd taken care of that. So that's how you traced me?"
"That's how the two gentlemen dressed in the medical kit traced you, I imagine. Armsman Roic, here"—Miles waved his hand; Roic nodded amiably—"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to introduce you two properly earlier—Roic followed them. More or less. And took you away from them. Did you recognize them, by the way?"
"Hans and Oki? Of course. The Gang of Four's pet muscle."
"Highly paid, these coworkers of yours?"
"Oh, yah." Leiber smiled sourly. "And great job security, too."
"As good as yours?"