The Administration Series (80 page)

No point asking Carnac where he got his information. "No. No problem at all. He doesn't care."

Carnac's analytical talents seemed to be well up to the task of spotting a 'fuck off and die' tone of voice, because he merely nodded again and returned to his work.

In his hotel room that evening, Carnac reviewed the progress of his official investigation (as uninspiringly good as could be expected) and his private study (also good, and more interesting).

His new approach seemed to be working out very well. One personal conversation, initiated by Toreth, was a significant payoff for two days of careful pleasantness. A third of the way to his first goal and, unfortunately, plenty more time to complete the project. At this rate he would be finished with Toreth long before his time at I&I expired. Sometimes winning was no fun.

The comm interrupted his thoughts. He was — delightfully — astonished to recognise the caller.

"Keir Warrick! What a surprise, and I do mean that."

Keir smiled, and Carnac was delighted again to see that he understood why that was noteworthy. "I heard that you were in the area and I thought you might be at something of a loose end."

"Oh, you have no idea — never looser, regrettably. I take it that you're getting your information from an I&I employee?"

"Toreth seemed to think that the project was largely pointless."

"I don't mean any insult to him when I say that any idiot would notice that. The chance of finding anything intellectually rewarding in the assignment is — how does the fairy tale go? The king set the miller's daughter the impossible task of spinning straw into gold. That is a reasonable analogy, although I might pick a less fragrant substance than straw as a metaphor for that place. You have no idea how much I would give to move to something even half as interesting as the study at the DDEU."

"I can offer you dinner on Thursday, if that would do instead."

Carnac hesitated. Accepting the invitation would invalidate his aim of persuading Toreth to introduce him to Keir. On the other hand, refusing would deprive him of what would probably be an enjoyable evening. Moreover, he might be able to uncover some fresh information on his subject from a new source, now that Sara's shallow seam had been mined out — a consideration which tipped the balance in favour of accepting.

He found himself smiling; that had been nicely rationalised. "A perfectly adequate substitute, yes," he told Warrick.

Anticipation of the evening to come had made the next two days at I&I the least unpleasant Carnac had suffered through since his arrival.

The restaurant was the most neutral of neutral territories. Exclusively corporate, it wasn't, Carnac noted, cheap, but price mattered little to either of them. Keir remembered the past at least well enough to choose Oriental, Carnac's favourite. However, the lighting was bright, the service brisk, and the decor expensive but severe — not an ambience to encourage the renewal of old intimacies.

They perused the menu and ordered. As they waited for the food to arrive, Carnac tolerated a stretch of social conversation regarding work and the time that had passed since their last meeting. It wasn't too dull, because it gave him a brief overview of the sim, which sounded every bit as interesting as he had hoped. Probing the effect of hard-earned corporate status on the man he'd known as a scientist was almost as engaging.

"Did you remember to vote today?" Carnac asked.

Warrick looked at him blankly. "I'm sorry?"

"Weren't the Parliament of the Regions elections today? I thought that the New London representative was on the list this year."

"Then I'm sure I did." Warrick smiled, the same neat, controlled expression Carnac remembered so fondly. "Corporate perks — I'm registered to submit my votes automatically."

"Arranged in what is no doubt the most socially correct manner."

"Truthfully? I don't remember the exact details." Warrick gave a small shrug. "I asked Gerry to set it up for me."

"You know, I've always admired your refreshing mix of idealism and pragmatism."

A tiny flicker of alarm creased Warrick's friendly demeanor. "Idealism?"

"In an intellectual sense, purely." Carnac held up his hand in apology. "Forgive me, I intended no unfortunate implication. All I meant was, you pursue truth at the expense of personal comfort. You could have taken your pick of Administration or corporate posts, and instead you chose to take a tremendous gamble in order to realize your dream, to put it rather tritely. And it has paid off handsomely, so I understand."

"I have no criticism of the Administration's voting system," Warrick said with emphasis, as though the latter comments hadn't even registered.

"I'm sure." Carnac couldn't resist. For someone like himself, in a place such as this, risk was negligible and could result in nothing worse than a reminder to remember the good name of Socioanalysis. "I admit that there's a Platonic beauty to the idea that we have finally achieved the pure distilled essence of universal democracy: providing the inept masses with the illusion of an influence over the state which they are utterly unqualified to exercise in actuality. Meanwhile, the Council rules in name, and the Heads of Departments rule in fact, and all is right in the Administration."

This time, Warrick remained silent. Carnac sighed to himself. Of course, he couldn't expect Keir to forget to whom he was speaking, and no doubt Toreth had informed him of the nature of Carnac's project at I&I. In the old days, though, Warrick might have answered. Somewhere along the roads they had travelled apart, he had learned more caution.

Or Carnac himself had come to represent more of a threat.

"But then I suppose none of that is of much interest to you," Carnac said lightly. "Why should it be? The system suits both of us very well, and a corporate such as yourself has the opportunity for far more direct and personal contact with the arbiters of political power than mere votes can provide."

Warrick looked at him rather more sharply than Carnac felt the comment merited. Had Warrick been politicking heavily on behalf of SimTech? It seemed somewhat unlikely, from Carnac's knowledge of him, but not impossible. In the first instance, though, he felt an obligation to pursue his self-appointed inquiries into Toreth. The sim would wait until later.

After they had finished their first pass through the selection of dishes set out for them on the table, Carnac asked, "How is your lovely wife?"

"She's my lovely ex-wife."

"Ah. I thought she would be, by now. It was a mistake to marry her."

Keir paused, mid-selection, and looked at him thoughtfully. "Actually, I didn't think I had, when I saw you last."

"No, but you were going to. Still, all's well that ends well, and similar platitudes."

After a moment Keir said, "Don't you ever get bored of asking questions when you already know the answers?"

That offered a nice entry point. "Yes, but people seem to prefer it to my simply telling them what they think. However, here's a genuine question I
don't
know the answer to: how do you cope with Toreth?"

The switch clearly caught Keir off guard. "With what about him?"

"The things he does in the course of his working day." Carnac cocked his head, ostentatiously considering. "You couldn't, of course. Which means you don't know, which means you haven't asked. And you most certainly haven't seen. I do believe I'm disappointed in you, Keir. I never thought you were the ostrich type."

He bridled slightly. "Not that it is any of your business, but I have seen."

Interesting. When? On reflection, it made sense that Keir would have made some effort to see with what he was getting involved. Carnac had always admired his intellectual honesty. "In that case, I apologise and withdraw the remark. And I return to my earlier question: how can you stand it?"

"You tell me. You're fucking him as well. How do you manage it?"

The unexpected crudity of the verb, or perhaps the crisp delivery, discomforted Carnac for a moment. He realised he had placed too much weight on Toreth's conviction that Keir wouldn't care about their temporary liaison. This might present a problem for his plans for Toreth. He reordered his approach and continued.

"Irrelevant. I'm trying to get through a boring assignment without entirely losing my sanity. You, on the other hand, are in love with him."

Keir went pale. "Don't be ridiculous."

He realised in passing that he was willing to forgive Keir the occasional burst of stupidity such as this, because most of the time he managed to be almost rational.

"Please, do remember who I am. Do you really want me to explain how obvious it is?" Rhetorical question, fortunately. Warrick wouldn't say yes, so he wouldn't have to confess that he was primarily relying on Sara's opinion. "I've been studying Toreth. He fascinates me."

"Really."

"Yes." Time to test the strength of Warrick's detachment. "He destroys people's lives, their minds and their self-worth. He perpetrates acts which most people would find impossible. He listens to people in pain, begging for their lives, for the lives of their loved ones. And none of it touches him because he doesn't perceive other people as real. Would you agree with that?"

"It's an opinion I've heard expressed before." Unreadable expressions and coldness can give away as much as anything else.

"Yet, somehow, he manages to accept your love and to love you in return, insofar as he is capable, although I'm sure the word has never occurred to him. Indeed, he
trusts
you, which is actually more significant. I imagine that you still tolerate a measure of thoughtlessness and indeed cruelty on his part, but your inevitable dissatisfaction must be outweighed by the rewards of pleasure and affection. A relationship is maintained, against all probability. It's really terribly interesting."

Keir groaned. "Please tell me you haven't said any of that to him."

"Good Lord, of course not. He'd kill me, somewhere around the middle of the first sentence, and the extent of his self-deception is another fascinating aspect to the situation. Now, will you answer my question?"

After a long silence Keir said, "You're right. I don't think about it. My self-deception, if you like." When he didn't comment on that, Keir looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

"Well nothing. I don't give relationship advice." Especially when, as in this case, the only advice he could give would be: he's dangerous, leave him.

"Not even if it's asked for?"

"I'm not cheap, and in this case I couldn't honestly recommend the expense, since you wouldn't follow it."

Keir nodded. Maybe he guessed what the advice would be. "So why ask the question in the first place?"

"I was curious, that's all — it's an unusual psychological situation of which I have few examples. I presume that you're satisfied with it, and with him. I'll admit that I can see his attractive qualities for someone who enjoys being dominated in a sexual context."

It was unfortunate, on reflection, that Keir was in mid-drink when he said that. As he mopped tea from his trousers and the table, he said, "Jean-Baptiste, that is an extremely obnoxious habit."

"Yes, I'm rather afraid it is. However, that doesn't make the observation any less true."

"How do you
know
?"

"It's obvious, from your choice of partners if nothing else. Actually, if ever the subject had arisen, I could have told you before. Melissa, the dear — " He shook his head, suppressing a smile at the memory of Keir's last-ditch and sadly misguided attempt to satisfy his relationship requirements in a more socially acceptable format. He had sincerely loved the woman, and laughter would offend. "However, you wouldn't have been ready to hear it back then."

Warrick looked up. "I'm surprised that you'd worry about that."

"Oh, I'm not saying that I wouldn't have said it, had the topic been broached, just that it would've been a potentially damaging thing for you to hear."

"And you say Toreth doesn't treat people as real."

It would do no good to explain that it was more a question of people being so pitifully unaware of their own fears and desires that there was little point making the effort to spare them pain. They suffered anyway, as they thrashed blindly in the incomprehensible quicksand of their meaningless lives.

On the other hand, the parallels had occurred to him as well, so it would be dishonest to deny the accusation entirely.

"I will concede a certain similarity in some aspects. However, that is part of why he's so intriguing." Something he hadn't seen before occurred to him. "He's emotionally immature and, indeed, potentially dangerous, and yet he has his 'regular fuck' and I don't. Does that strike you as unfair?"

Keir laughed, although without sounding terribly amused. "Actually, no, it doesn't. But anyway, would you want one?"

That kind of thought-provoking question was the reason he didn't mind spending an evening with Keir. "Do you know, I have absolutely no idea. And you cannot imagine how much the novelty of that appeals to me."

"Then, if you'll
take
some advice, you'd be better off looking at Socioanalysis than I&I."

Touch of defensiveness, quite unnecessary — Carnac didn't have the right suicidal tendencies to go after Toreth as a serious partner, or any of the rest of the I&I menagerie. It was probably as far as Keir would permit himself to go in laying claim to Toreth, though, so a little reassurance was only fair.

"Neither, I would say. I don't see much potential for long-term contentment with either sociopaths or egomaniacs."

Keir smiled slightly. "Well, then, good luck in finding someone who does."

Touche.

As they continued the meal, and the conversation turned to the sim, Carnac found himself using some of his attention to measure his companion up to the role of partner. Considering the starting point that no one would ever be suitable, Keir wasn't a bad fit. Interesting, intelligent, independent, rich enough to function as an equal. Tolerant, as his liaison with Toreth amply demonstrated. Carnac knew full well that tolerance would be a major requirement.