Regenesis (57 page)

“Nothing psychotic about that. Humanity did without us for thousands of years. Alliance and Earth, somehow, still do.”

“That’s not it, though. It’s not that they can do without us, it’s that somebody wants to be us. What if
that’s
the viral idea, Yanni? That somebody’s always going to
be
us, and that’s where the power is situated, and maybe somebody’s little kid, or several people’s little kids, were turned into something that’s angrier about us than the parents were. Maybe that’s why they’re still protesting a war that’s been over for decades, and why it’s only gotten worse and crazier. I mean, the first Paxers blew up buildings at odd hours when people weren’t likely to be there, and now they’re just trying to cause the worst casualties they can. It’s accelerated. They’re sucking in mental cases their violence created, and giving
them
bombs and sending them out—but you don’t think the leaders of this movement are ever going to carry the bombs. They’ll sit back pretending to be us, congratulating themselves that they’ve
become
us.”

“So do you see a fix, short of a mass mindwipe of every CIT in Novgorod?”

“I see Paxers proliferating like crazy, once Eversnow goes public. That worries me, Yanni.”

“Why would they proliferate?”

“Because it’s change. Because it scares the followers. Because change changes the balance of power and that’s going to agitate their leaders. Some people won’t want the whole terraforming question shunted out to the edge of space: they want it here. Some people won’t want it anywhere. Some people will agree with me that it’s too much too soon. It’s going to be like yeast in a bowl, it’s just going to froth up and make a hell of a mess.”

“In your theory you could change the national polling hours and they’d bomb subways over it.”

“They probably would,” Ari said. “It would all become some Reseune plot.”

“So there’s a monster in the walls. What’s his name, Anton Clavery?”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“Not exactly. Your theory would say the Paxers took out Patil and Thieu. The one’s easy, the other’s hard. You need sane people to get into Planys and then go insane.”

She shook her head. “You need a killer. Money’s a motive, too. When you need something delicate done, you hire an expert.”

Yanni sat and thought about that a moment. “Nasty theory, young lady.”

“It’s scary. So’s your Eversnow, but I said I’d support it. You know what else worries me in the whole issue? Jordan worries me.”

“Regarding the Paxers?”

“
He’s
an issue with them. If he’s as self-interested as you say, he’ll do whatever benefits him. He’s the embodiment of the disaffected, the third-gen problem. You can’t
make
him care. And he doesn’t.”

“Interesting analysis.”

“Am I right?”

“Jordan’s an old issue with the Paxers: they
think
they’d like to see him out in public—they think he’d blast Reseune in the media if he gets his chance, and they’d really love that. He doesn’t personally give a rat’s ass whether we terraform or don’t. And if you want somebody who’s got the skill to be a real operator, your bogeyman in the CIT sector, that’s Jordan. But—” Yanni said, “there’s one thing against it. Jordan is entirely for himself. He’d fry the Paxers quicker than he’d fry Reseune. Stupid people bother him. He’d turn on them in a heartbeat, the moment they cross him.”

“And he designs azi sets.”

“Damned good ones,” he said.

“So have you ever worried what he put into them?” she asked. “Back when he was working, and mad at Ari? I say it’s
probably
CITs that are the cause. But we had the War, we had the military running interventions on their own azi, who later decommissioned and went civilian, a lot of them in Novgorod. And we had Jordan designing azi sets for decades and decades. I don’t think he could have gotten anything past my predecessor, but that may just be my own ego. We never had the handle on military sets I wish we had.”

“We had people blowing up subways forty years ago,” Yanni said. “Well before Jordan became the ass he is.”

“Was there ever a point he wasn’t one?”

“You want the truth? He said he was in love with your predecessor,” Yanni said. “I don’t think he really was. But he may have thought he was, for a complex of reasons involving power, and he was certainly less of an ass before that major blowup.”

That was interesting. “So he lied to her. He was interested in romance and power, and she was interested in her projects?”

“I don’t think she cared about the sex. It was his mind she wanted. I think he lied to himself, for one of the rare times in his life. Major self-delusion, wrapped up in his self-concept. He was sleeping with Paul while that affair was going on. I told him it wouldn’t work. He told me go to hell. A year later he had Justin conceived, born the year after. The Ari affair was on again, off again. They were trying to work together. He suddenly got the notion she was taking his ideas. Sharing didn’t work with either of them. That’s where it blew up. What happened in the bedroom, I don’t know; but the ideas were the issue he complained about.”

“I can imagine that,” she said. “He’s very self-protective in that regard.”

“So,” Yanni said somewhat cheerfully, “it all blew up. I don’t think Jordan’s the godfather of the Paxers, not even the model of them—he may have done a few designs that could be problematic in Ari’s integrations, you could be right about that. She tossed certain of them out and wouldn’t let them go to implementation. There was a hell of a fight about it—he called her a goddess-bitch and she said he was a damned lunatic. They traded those words back and forth and had one shouting light right in Admin offices in front of the secretaries and the visitors. I don’t think they slept together after that.”

She had to laugh ruefully for a microsecond, and grew sad after, thinking about herself and Justin, and swearing to herself it never would happen to them that way. “What did Paul think about it?”

Yanni looked at the door, as if measuring the distance to the conference room, and said, quietly, “Poor Paul. Always, poor Paul. Paul puts up with him. That’s got to be a ferociously strong mindset, Paul’s. God knows Jordan’s tinkered with it over the years. But Paul loves him.”

“That’s what Paul gets out of it, at least. Did the first Ari ever try to do anything with him?”

Yanni shook his head emphatically. “No. That would have really torn it worse than what she did with Justin. Paul’s where Jordan lives, that’s all. Justin just
happened
one year—a project that ran for a couple of decades, and blew up when Ari intervened. Became a permanent reminder of a quarrel he’d had with Ari. That’s one way to look at it, on Jordan’s scale of things.”

“That’s sad, too. Justin loves him.”

“A lot of people have tried,” Yanni said with a second shake of his head. “God knows. If you have an altruistic bent, young lady, take it from me on this one. Don’t try kindness, not with him. He’s just what he is. Let him be.”

“I wish I could Get him, all the same,” she said, and set to work at the dish again. “Yanni, Uncle Yanni, you keep being Director for a while. I’ll wait. Just don’t you be my Jordan, and let’s be friends. I’ll respect your opinion, you respect mine, and don’t hold out on me anymore.”

“I’ll take a good deep look at your theory on Novgorod,” he said.

“Good,” she said. “I’ll be interested.”

“Eversnow,” he said, “stays.”

“Through anything I can foresee at the moment,” she said, wishing otherwise—but it was necessary, right now.

So was keeping her word, if she didn’t want to make honest people mad at her. And she had always thought Yanni was honest. “I’ll really try to make it work, Yanni.”

She signaled for the next course. Gianni had made a really beautiful dessert, showing off, she was sure. It was layered, and oh, so good. Yanni ate his and ended up being persuaded to another half slice, and a little glass of liqueur to top the evening off. She couldn’t eat another bite. Her stomach was a little upset by the time she saw Yanni to the door.

But it hadn’t gone that badly.

Yanni said he still trusted Hicks. That was a problem.

She didn’t anymore, not until Hicks really proved himself.

She could take Hicks out, put someone she really trusted into that post—like Amy Carnath. Amy had the brains and she’d be fair. But she’d absolutely hate running ReseuneSec. Besides, she was only eighteen, same as the rest of them, and that was the problem—in a post like Hicks’, history mattered. Yanni knew all sorts of things, just a long, long memory, and so did Hicks, and you didn’t just replace a memory like that with a new appointment and hope to have anything like the prior performance in a job involving information.

She could take Admin herself, and put Yanni into Hicks’ job, but he’d really hate that, and that wouldn’t improve matters.

So they were stuck, temporarily, with Hicks.

The good part was, so far, she still had Yanni. They could work with each other, until things had to be different.

J
UNE
17, 2424
1008
H

“Hello,” Ari said, opening the door to Justin’s office, and he spun his chair around.

Grant turned more slowly.

She came in solo. They
had
gotten the extra chair, which they used in her lessons, since they’d folded their other Wing One office into this one, and she turned it around and sat down, primly proper.

“Coffee, sera?” Grant asked.

“Please. Thank you. I need to talk to both of you.”

“Is there a problem?” Justin asked.

“Yes and no.” She waited until Grant had handed her a cup of coffee in a pretty gilt mug, and just held it in her lap, not to delay or draw this out. “The sets you did that I snatched back. Thank you for that. I came to tell you you were right, there was a problem.”

“Which set?”

“The one you delayed on.”

Justin gave out a long, long breath.

“That set was tampered with,” she said. “I think I’ve fixed it. I’m sure I’ve fixed it. Sure enough to have him in charge of my own guard.”

“That’s very sure,” Justin said.

“His name is Rafael,” she said, “and now he’s under my orders. I think he was under Hicks’, and I think Giraud’s before that.”

“He’s too young,” Grant said.

“He is, but he’s not the first of his number. I think there was some off-record done with his whole type…no, I don’t just think. I know. There
was
. I’m quitting being the kid as of this week.”

Zap.

“I didn’t get that out of it,” Justin said, frowning, so her bow-shot had gone right past him. “I should have. I assumed. Never assume. You certainly beat me on this one.”

She shrugged lightly. “I had a head start. I
know
green barracks programming.” With a shift of her glance toward the hall where Catlin waited. “And you wouldn’t have that experience. Still, you had something spotted. That’s what warned me to look twice. You had your finger pretty well on it.”

“What did it do?”

“He conflicted like hell when I took the Contract. He had a nice little reservation built in and I blitzed it. Not as good as an axe code, what I did, but close.”

Grant made a face. Grant knew.

“Anyway,” she said, “you deserved to know.”

“Thanks,” Justin said.

“I have it set up with Yanni: Jordan will get to work; I’ll check. If he blows up, maybe he and I will eventually have to talk about it. But we’ll just see how it goes. Let him calm down first.”

“Thank you,” Justin said.

“You’re still bothered about the BR set.”

“It bothers me that I missed it.”

“It bothers you. That’s why you’re good. Besides being Special-level smart.”

He laughed silently at that. Didn’t say a thing. But self-doubt was major in him.

“I’m sorry I’ve missed lessons lately,” she said.

“I think you’re getting beyond them, aren’t you?”

“I don’t think you’re at all through teaching me. I learn all sorts of things. You were spotting that conflict from the microset side of things; I was looking at the large picture, and I fixed it by yanking at the deepsets. You’re
kind
, is what. Grant knows what I mean.”

“Sera is right,” Grant said quietly.

“It’s why you want to rehabilitate your father. You’re just soft-hearted. I need somebody who teaches me what soft-hearted is.”

“I don’t know that it’s so valuable a commodity these days.”

“Because Reseune isn’t safe?” she asked. “It isn’t. Neither is Planys. Neither is here, granted Jordan got that card the way he says he did. We could have a problem at Planys that we never spotted. We could, here. Something like a Rafael type. Nothing of his geneset is there. One is in Hicks’ office, probably with nobody to report to now that Giraud is dead, but I’m going to put a tag on him—I’ll know every contact he has.”

“Ari,” he said, and cast a look up, at the over
head
.

She smiled sadly. “It’s only Catlin listening. We know about this office. We have our own protections around it, and if it’s leaky, they’ve gotten past all my bodyguards and nothing is safe. Just figure: there are three hundred fifty-one azi at Planys. And somebody killed Thieu. And somebody killed Patil. I’m betting they got a professional in to take out Patil, somehow, maybe azi, maybe not.”

“An azi didn’t originate the idea,” Grant said.

“I agree with you,” Ari said. “An azi didn’t. But I’d be interested to hear your thinking on motivation. You’re not green barracks.”

“I’m house,” Grant said. “And I hardly remember when I wasn’t. I absorbed my values from tape, from instruction, and from being part of the household.”

“That changed,” Ari said.

“Ari,” Justin said, a warn-off.

“Grant, you don’t have to answer me. I’m not being a Supervisor, I’m just curious where your focus is.”

“Classified,” Justin said.

Grant shrugged. “Not hard to guess it’s you, born-man. Ari doesn’t scare me.”

“I really don’t want to,” Ari said. “I’m sorry, Grant, but I don’t want to ask my own staff, and I want an azi viewpoint on this question. In your psychset, could anybody get you to kill?”