Great North Road (67 page)

“Yes. I can just about buy the zebra botany evolving naturally. There’s a symmetry to it that we don’t normally get in nature. However, it’s quite elegant, and we’ve seen weirder things on the non-human-compatible planets we’ve surveyed and left alone. But every day I look at the autoradiography bands we’ve obtained from the processed samples, and I see a genome that’s extremely sophisticated. Exactly what you get from several billion years of evolution. This is the endpoint of these plants’ evolution, their pinnacle. The world is in harmony, a balance that is like nothing we’ve ever seen before. Yet there’s no fossil layer.”

“That anyone’s found. And face it, Northumberland Interstellar hasn’t been looking hard.”

“There’s not a single ammonite on a planet this size? One! Come on.” He gestured around at the hills. “Besides, Sirius hasn’t been around for billions of years. It’s four hundred million years old at best. No. All this was planted. Recently, in geological terms. But it was put here.”

“Why?”

“Why does the Zanth exist? Our Lord works in very mysterious ways. One of His elder children chose this world as a garden, perhaps? We do not get to question why, at least not in this life.”

“And the unexplained deaths we’ve had? DiRito was right, something hit the MTJ, some force that knocked it toward the gorge.”

“Those deaths only happen to our camp.” Antrinell tipped his head back toward the Tropics. “And there’s one person connecting both times.”

“Not Newcastle, she doesn’t.”

Antrinell grimaced. “Yeah.”

“Ralph should have completed Ernie Reinert’s interrogation in a couple of days. Once we know for sure if the Newcastle murder was corporate-linked we’ll have a better idea how to proceed here.”

“Fair enough. But my guess is on the corporate option. Damn moneylenders never change, there’s nothing they won’t do to make a buck.”

Her back slumped against the hot black tire of the Tropic, Angela watched Elston and Antrinell in deep discussion close to the edge of the gorge. There was a lot of animation in their gestures. Plenty of passion and belief in the words. They deliberately kept their voices low so no one else could hear them.

Right now she didn’t much care what they were talking about, though she could guess she was featuring heavily in there. There was a couple of times when Antrinell had used his head to gesture at the Tropics, deliberately not glancing at her and the others.

The accident had left her as shocked and drained as every convoy member. It had been a frantic time. Antrinell and Paresh had agreed to her abseiling down to the MTJ because of her weight. Everyone was scared the vehicle would slip again and carry on falling to the bottom of the gulley. So she and Leora had been first down, using tough carbon-filament ropes to secure upturned wheel hubs to the rocks. That had been the toughest quarter of an hour she’d spent, ignoring the cries of her injured friends inside while they secured the vehicle. And always, she’d been alert for the treacherous smell of mint amid the jungle’s pervasive mélange. Only when the MTJ was anchored to the rocks did they go inside with the emergency medical field packs and start to do what they could.

After that, after she’d crawled in through the shattered window and recoiled in dismay at the blood and suffering, she shifted into some kind of auto-function state. See what needed doing, assess how to do it, and just get on with the job. Pull the vicious honeyberry branch out of O’Riley’s thigh, ignore his agonized screaming, seal up the ripped artery with the clever gadgets in the field pack. Emotions didn’t come into it. Angela was good at that, good at isolating and ignoring her feelings. Everyone had been thankful and full of praise for what she’d done, especially when they saw the extent of the injuries she’d dealt with. She smiled thinly at the memory of their surprise; even Paresh had been alarmed at how much blood was soaked into her clothes when she’d finally hauled herself back up to the top of the ridge.

You could take the girl away from New Monaco, but you could never take New Monaco away from the girl.

Last time she’d suffered what to most people would be a debilitating emotional shock, she’d managed to quickly disassociate herself from any foolish animal state of mind and function logically. It was a pure survival instinct. And had she ever needed that straight afterward …

Angela’s jewelry was kept in a walk-in closet, one of the rooms that made up her bedroom suite in the family’s New Monaco mansion. She stood in the middle of the floor and looked around at the hundreds of small drawers. It was like standing in a safety-deposit vault, except there were no locks. And now there was no security. Theft from the staff was always a minor worry, so the mansion’s AI maintained a constant watch over the jewelry closet. The only people who could override it were her and Raymond. Angela had overridden it, switching it off.

She walked over to the console. The inventory was kept there, along with a useful style-match program that helped her coordinate with her wardrobe, suggesting appropriate items. She slipped her hand into the keyspace, and her e-i loaded her code in. It wasn’t the big, high-value items she was interested in. Of all the exquisite pieces she’d amassed or been given over the years, there were plenty of smaller bracelets and rings and tiaras and necklaces. Hundreds of them, so many she didn’t actually know the full extent.

Draws slid open silently. Flecks of light materialized all across the room, as if someone had lowered a glitterball. It was simply the refraction glimmer cast by all the superbly cut diamonds now exposed to the closet’s sharp monochrome lighting panels. While she walked around examining the display, her e-i began to worm its way deep into the AI registry levels, wiping specific data as it went.

A green-and-purple icon popped up in her netlens projection—Marlak was calling her. “Let it through,” she told her e-i.

“I’m sorry, Angela,” Marlak said. “But the council agents are arriving.”

“Of course they are,” she said. “I’ll be down in a moment. I’m getting changed. After all, I can hardly meet them in my party frock, now can I?”

“Of course not. I’ll inform them.”

When she walked back out into her bedroom, Daniellia, her maid, was waiting. Angela immediately noticed the change in the woman. She ignored the new lack of civility and began undoing the straps of her mauve ballgown.

“I’m sorry about your father,” Daniellia said.

“Thank you. Where’s Lizzine?” Her dermatologist, who should be here ready and attentive to get the platinum scales off her skin. Greeting the council agents while shining in tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of precious metal probably wasn’t the best strategy.

“Back at Prince Matiff’s, ma’am.”

“Oh yes, of course. Well, you’ll have to help instead.” Angela stepped out of her ballgown. “Find the skin eluents will you please, there’s a dear.”

Daniellia didn’t move. Angela raised an eyebrow. Normally that would be enough to turn the girl into a quivering mouse creature. Not now.

“I’m sorry to bring this up tonight,” Daniellia said. “But we’ve been wondering if our contract payment will be honored?”

“I see.” Angela slid a ring off her finger. The diamond set in the band probably wasn’t over three carats. “Here.” She tossed the ring to Daniellia, who caught it neatly. “Payment plus bonus. Now find me the eluent. Please.”

Daniellia stared at the ring for a long moment, then tucked it into her blouse pocket. “Yes, ma’am.”

Angela was wearing a simple pair of tailored trousers along with a black Rivanne top and Moffont jacket when she finally came down the curving stairs of the private wing. Her netlenses were dark except for one figure glowing at the corner of her vision. A long number, one that spelled the end of her world.

Marlak was waiting for her on the first-floor landing. “They’re here,” he said in a disapproving tone. The lawyer was over sixty years old. He’d been with the DeVoyal family for the last forty, and was devoted to Raymond. He could have retired years ago from the money he’d earned, living a pleasant life on Sao Jeroni, where his grandchildren had settled. Instead he chose to stay on, relishing the challenge of modern finance legality. It was the only way he knew, the way to keep his brain active.

“Thank you,” Angela said.

“I think it’s wrong of them to arrive so quickly. I can lodge that complaint with the council.”

“I don’t believe the council would give a flying crap about anything a DeVoyal says at this point. So let’s not make this any more humiliating than necessary.”

“I understand. But please know they do have to follow the law. I will note any abuses.”

“You’re a darling.”

There were three of them waiting on the polished wooden flooring of the hallway. Two men and a woman, all dressed in black suits. Expensive designer suits, Angela noted, as was fitting, but grouped together they managed to make them look like a uniform.

“Ms. DeVoyal,” said Matthews, the agent in charge. “Our sympathies for your loss.”

“Thank you. Please state the reason for your visit?”

“The New Monaco Council of Governance has been made aware of your family’s current financial situation. A group of thirty-two banks and market institutions have filled for loan repayment following today’s collapse of the oil futures market. Treasury records indicate you don’t have enough money in your assets to make good their claim. Is that true?”

“How do I plead, you mean?”

“Yes,” he said implacably.

“Big day for you. You don’t get this very often, do you?”

“I have no personal involvement in this matter, I assure you. Ms. DeVoyal, I must ask you for your answer now, please.”

Angela took a breath. “No. My family cannot pay the debts at this time. I’m sure if you just let me begin negotiations with—”

“I’m sorry. But I’m not concerned with what rescheduling agreement you may eventually come to with your debtors. I am only concerned with the New Monaco residency laws. To confirm then: Your net worth is no longer in excess of fifty billion US dollars?”

“Correct.”
There is no net worth—I’m two and a half billion in debt, which I’m sure you know.

“In which case, I regretfully have to inform you that by the Council of Governance’s constitution, you no longer qualify as a New Monaco resident.”

“I was born here. This is my planet.”

“No, Ms. DeVoyal. It
was
your planet. Legally, you now have twenty-four hours to attend your affairs before I escort you to the gateway. However, the council is pleased to extend a non-prejudicial offer of a further forty-eight-hour extension so you may arrange your father’s funeral.”

“That’s very kind of them. Marlak?”

“I’ll see to it.”

“The council would like to add that should your finances recover, you will be most welcome to reapply for citizenship.”

“Indeed,” she said loftily. “I’ll remember that.”

Matthews cleared his throat, clearly relieved that she wasn’t making a scene. “Thank you, Ms. DeVoyal. I’ll remain with you until this is over.”

She gave him a derisive smile. “You think I’ll make a break for it? That I’ll turn feral and live out in the hills, preying on the innocent townsfolk?”

“I don’t believe that, no.”

“Sorry, that was impolite of me. You’re only doing your job. It’s been a bad day. You know?”

“I think you’re coping very well.” Matthews nodded to the woman agent. “You can tell them to come in now.”

“Who?” Angela asked sharply.

Matthews gave Marlak an uncomfortable glance. “Um …”

“Angela,” Marlak said uncomfortably. “The banks have been in touch with the Financial Regulatory Board. A team of the board’s officers has been appointed to administer the remaining family assets. They need to recover as much as they can from your companies and holdings.”

“I see. Right now?”

“They’re worried you might try to hide assets.”

“Oh really?” She glanced up as a whole group of people started to walk into the grandiose hall. Unlike the agents, their clothes weren’t anything like as expensive. Office-worker types. The kind of little people she didn’t even register as she went about her usual day. Now they were here to rip the carcass of her life apart and earn themselves a nice bonus for doing so.

Angela held her hand up. “See this ring? It’s my engagement ring. My fiancé proposed to me tonight. Who does it belong to?”

Matthews was starting to realize this wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d thought. “Technically, the board’s officers can claim every personal item you own. In practice, they will of course leave you with some clothes and other low-value effects that have a sentimental value. I’m afraid a ring like that will definitely be claimed. Er, is that diamond?”

“It is. Let’s just see what my fiancé, a New Monaco citizen, has to say about that, shall we?”

Matthews inclined his head. “Of course.” He and the other agents went into a huddle with the team from the Regulatory Board office, leaving her alone with Marlak.

“They really will track it all down,” Marlak said quietly. “Your father and I never thought to hide anything away. New Monaco was supposed to be the one place where a plutocrat’s wealth was safe.”

“I know.” She narrowed her eyes. “What about you? They can’t take anything of yours, can they?”

“Nothing that’s already been paid to me, no. I haven’t had this month’s salary, so theoretically that makes me one of your creditors.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m rich in my own right—by normal standards, anyway. In fact, you’re welcome to come and live with me on New Washington for as long as you need. The house has a guest cottage in the grounds. You know, it’s been eight years since I visited.”

“No. That’s really, really sweet of you, Marlak. But I don’t do charity. Looks like you actually will have to retire and spend more time with your grandchildren.”

Marlak pulled a face. “Horrible thought. But what about you, what will you do?”

The unspoken question was the one she flinched at.
What can you do? What use are you?
“That’s something I’m going to have to learn. I’ve got degrees in financial theory. That might help me …” She trailed off.
Get a job.
The more she thought about it, the more bleakly funny it was.
Who in this universe would ever give me a job? Hell, even I wouldn’t employ me.
She gave Marlak a rueful smile. “Twenty billion other people manage. Somehow.”