Daisy Wong, Space Marshal: The Case of the Runaway Concubine (4 page)

The inside of the building may have been way off the grid,
but the outside wasn't.  Those cameras and sensors showed Meizhen and Ray
coming and going on an almost daily schedule.  Some days Meizhen looked happy
and bouncy, and other days she leaned on Ray as they walked from the transport vehicle
into the building.  On two occasions an orderly wheeled her out to a waiting
taxi.

"Treatments," Muffy said.

And then, two weeks before Ray Gilmore's supposed suicide,
the hits stopped.  Nothing from Willamette, nothing from the Glacier View,
nothing from the street cameras, nothing from the transportation subnet.

"It's as though someone has erased them from all of the
databases," Daisy said.

"Who could be doing that?  Meizhen herself?" Muffy
asked.

"Or someone she hired," Daisy said.  "It might
even have been Ray Gilmore."

"What now?  Are you wanting to search for the spider
that was doing her dirty work?"

"No.  We need to work this from the other end."

"What are you talking about?"

"Think of us as a couple of bloodhounds.  Meizhen has
waded into a river and we've lost her scent.  What can we do?  Sit on our
haunches and bay at the moon?  No.  We have to go across the river and cast back
and forth until we pick up her trail again."

"Oh, yes, but that spider could have reached anywhere
in the solar system by now," Muffy said.

"Possibly, but some databases are more secure than
others."

Muffy's face lit up.  "And we have one thing her spider
does not have: space-marshal access codes.  They are absolutely the open-sesame
to every node on the grid."

Suddenly Daisy felt first-year-rookie stupid.  Muffy was
right.  They had the one thing Meizhen hadn't had.  Of greater even importance,
they had the one thing that Daisy's uncle hadn't had: the space-marshal access
codes.  Daisy was so accustomed to thinking of the tongs as virtually
omnipotent that she found it next to impossible to grasp their limitations.  But
the reality was, there were many, many places the tongs could
not
reach,
actions they could
not
take, things they could
not
acquire, and
the space-marshal access codes were one of them.

Her uncle had turned to
her
because, first, she would
not betray him, and, second, she had authorization to use the space-marshal
access codes.

#

Using one of the semi-official templates, they put together a
spider of their own and launched it.

"Time for dinner," Daisy said.

#

Two hours later, their spider reported back enough data for
them to take action.

Two days after Ray Gilmore's death, the spaceport in Tsiolkovsky
City, the Moon, recorded the departure of a woman matching Meizhen Fitzgerald's
physical description.  She was pregnant, traveling alone, and using excellent
false identification.  Her ID was so good that it had fooled the genetic
sniffers.  They registered her as one Florence Amelia Chang y Gomez, Ph.D., of
Mexico City, Earth, traveling on business.

The only slight problem with this scenario was that Florence
Amelia Chang y Gomez had died in a plane crash in Brazil, Earth, five years
ago.  The death certificate had been purged, but not quite well enough.

Not all spiders are created equal.

"Where did you say she was headed?" Daisy asked.

Muffy checked the screen.  "Ganges Four.  What luck!  I
have always harbored a profound desire to visit there."

Daisy hadn't.

Ganges Four was one of the newer Earth-Moon Lagrange
colonies.  It was a hub for both genetic and cybernetic research.  The
universities and companies there melded lots of grant-funded theory with lots
of profit-motivated application.  Which meant that the place was top-heavy with
a smorgasbord of pushers, pimps, and prostitutes.

Daisy and Muffy coded a special spider, pointed it at Ganges
IV, and hit the "launch" key.

Half an hour later it popped back with a cluster of hits in
and around the Himalayan Android Works.

For the first time since taking on the case, Daisy got a
cold feeling in the pit of her stomach.  The Himalayan Android Works was a
notorious android factory.  Exquisitely skilled and highly amoral, they
designed and built everything from pet cats to willing sex slaves, from
obedient children that would never grow up to loving grandparents that would
never grow senile, from fearless soldiers to cuddly assassins.  Their client
base ran the gamut from tycoons to tyrants and from goons to governments.

Moreover, with that one simple piece of information, the job
had suddenly flashed out of control, morphing from a missing-persons case into
something utterly different.  What that something might be, Daisy couldn't say. 
But it was now entirely possible that she would fail.

"The Himalayan Android Works," Muffy said.  "Why
would Meizhen go there?"

Daisy felt a surge of frustration.  "Link the pieces.  Meizhen
came to New Telluride to save her baby.  She did.  What would her next logical
step be?"

Muffy thought, then said, "That would depend on her
state of mind.  But we have nothing to tell us what that might have been."

"Which is why we have to go to Ganges IV."

After another pause, Muffy said, "By now she's had her
baby."

"I know," Daisy said.  "She had it three months
ago."

#

They were about to board the ferry to Ganges IV when Daisy
realized that she'd told Muffy a tremendous lie.  They'd been thinking like
cops and not like a spoiled child with a grudge.  Worse, they had not been
thinking like an anger-filled woman capable of murder.

Daisy looked at the departure board and cursed the length of
time they would have to spend in transit.  They were working blind, proceeding
on guesswork, and they were already far, far behind.

#

The Himalayan Android Works gleamed.

No surprise there.  Given the company's revenues, they could
afford as much polish as they wanted.

Daisy and Muffy's uniforms and badges got them as far as the
security kiosk in the lobby.  The security kiosk gleamed.

Daisy and Muffy explained that they were looking for
background information to help with a case.  Technical stuff.  Biological androids
and such.  Whom could they talk to?

The uniforms in the security kiosk sent them to the public
information officer.

They soon had the public information officer stumped.

"Look, this case is important," Daisy said. 
"Every case is important, of course, but this one is special. 
Political
,
if you catch what I mean."

He did.

He directed them to the executive vice president for
advanced technological research.

The executive vice president's office gleamed.  The
executive vice president himself, however, did not gleam.  He radiated
competence and self-confidence, topped off by a genuine desire to help, but he
did not gleam.

Within a matter of minutes, Daisy knew she'd found her man, a
guy who could
help
, whether he wanted to or not.

He was in his middle fifties and had a ruggedly handsome
face.  He also had a straight European nose . . . or he did
have until Daisy smashed it down onto his gleaming mahogany desk.

She grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head up.  Blood
streamed from his nose.

He spluttered about civil rights and police brutality and
having her job.

When he had finished his rant, Daisy said, "Listen to
me, you smug Gweilo bastard, I've chased halfway across the solar system to get
to you, so answer my question."

She pulled his head back a bit more, preparatory to slamming
it onto the desk a second time.

"No, wait!" he said.  "A woman answering that
description
was
here."  He pointed at a tastefully designed display
screen.  It gleamed.  "Let me show you."

Daisy let go of the executive-vice-presidential head.

He jabbed at page after page until a picture of Meizhen
filled the left side of the screen.  She looked tired and pale, as though she'd
been pulling double shifts in a waste-reclamation plant for the past six weeks.

Text filled the right side of the screen.  The text
identified her as Delphinia Taylor-Boyd, a volunteer subject.  There was a list
of the projects to which she'd been assigned.  The list was short but there
were no entries beyond the previous month.

Daisy pointed at the screen.  "I need to talk to these
project managers."

"Of course.  I'll make the arrangements right
away."

"Good.  Thank you," Daisy said.  "One more
thing.  You will not call security the instant our backs are turned.  You will
wait here quietly until we tell you to do otherwise.  If you don't I will
personally send you to the Hell of the Disobedient Sinners."

His face paled.

"I see you understand your predicament."

"Which tong?" he asked, his voice ragged with
fear.

"Never mind which," Daisy said.  "Do as you are
told and you might live to tell about it."

"Yes, ma'am."

"On second thought, you will never tell
anyone
about
it.  Am I understood?"

"Yes, ma'am.  Perfectly."

#

Outside the executive vice president's office, Daisy paused
at the executive vice president's chief executive assistant's desk.  The chief
executive assistant was a lovely young woman.  She was wearing a very short
skirt and a very revealing open-necked blouse.  She had a lot to reveal.  And acres
of gleaming hair.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"No, but your boss took a spill and hit his head on his
desk."

Something like surprise wiped the attentive expression from
the executive assistant's face.

Daisy continued, "I don't mean to tell you how to do
your job, but if I were you, I'd call the medics."

"Yes, ma'am.  Right away."

Daisy went on down the hallway toward the elevators, Muffy
at her heels.

On their way down in the elevator, Muffy said, "The
Hell of the Disobedient Sinners.  You are in excellent form today.  Ganges IV
is agreeing with you."

"The Hell of the Disobedient Sinners is real,"
Daisy said.

Muffy shook her head.  "By the way, why do you get to have
all the fun?  I always have to play the bad cop or the silent cop or the good
cop, but whenever it is coming down to the actual mayhem, it is always you who
are twisting the arms, socking the jaws, and breaking the noses.  Are those not
skills I ought to be learning?"

#

There were four project managers on their list.

The first three had less than nothing to say.  They were
conducting routine cybernetic research.  Yes, they'd run various tests on
Taylor-Boyd.  Nothing unusual.  Blood work.  Encephalographs.  No, they
couldn't disclose the nature of their research.  No, they couldn't comment
directly on Taylor-Boyd beyond what was already in the official company records. 
Her identification and so on had been authentic and in good order.  She had
been helpful, cheerful, and pregnant.  What mattered to them was that she
cooperate, which she had.

The fourth manager gave Daisy and Muffy the same song and
dance until the moment they were about to leave.

He said, "You know, Himalayan does a lot of work off
the books.  Fee-for-service work and so on."

"Was someone working with Meizhen off the books?"

"According to the rumor mill."

"Which managers?  What they were doing?"

"From what I can tell, they weren't working with
her
. 
It was her baby they were interested in."

"Interested how?"

"It could have been anything.  'Weird Shit' is our
middle name."

Daisy's cop alarms went off.

"Why are you telling us this?" she asked.

"Every once in a while, the weird shit can be a little
too weird."

"What was so weird about what they did to Taylor-Boyd's
baby?"

He shrugged.  "I didn't sign up to turn babies into
bombs."

#

On their way out of the building, they commandeered a screen
at the security kiosk.  This time their spider popped back in less than ten
seconds.  One Delphinia Helen Octavia Taylor-Boyd, now with close-cropped blond
hair, had been living in an exclusive guesthouse in Novi Sochi until two days
ago.

At that time, she and her baby had boarded a flight for Los
Angeles, Mars.

#

Daisy and Muffy took a taxi directly from the Himalayan
offices to the spaceport.  On the way, Daisy commed Snakeskin.

"Meizhen left New Ganges two days ago," Daisy
said.  "She's headed your way.  Look, Uncle, when she gets there, don't
let her or her baby anywhere near you."

"Why not?  Their return has been my goal from the
start."

"I don't care about your goals.  I care about you. 
Listen, I'll explain it all when I get there.  Trust me.  She's out for
blood."

#

Daisy and Muffy were waiting for their flight to Mars when
Jimmy Fingers commed.

"I've chartered a fast shuttle for you," he said. 
"It's waiting at Gate G26-A."

That was fast work, even for a tong with the reach and
influence of the Association.  Daisy's warning must have lit a fire.

"Thanks," Daisy said.  "Jimmy, do me favor.  Do
him
a favor.  Stall him.  Lock him in his office if you have to, but don't
let him go to her.  And don't you dare let her worm her way in to see
him."

#

Despite clearances, bribes, and threats, their charter from
New Ganges to Mars could not overtake Meizhen's flight.  Indeed, Meizhen landed
a full six hours ahead of them.

Yes, they had closed the gap to six hours, but those were
six hours that Meizhen had to position herself and her baby close to Snakeskin.

And yet, Meizhen had gone nowhere near Snakeskin.  She and
her baby had taken a taxi into town and had registered at a hotel.  She'd sent
out a batch of cleaning and had ordered room service.