The Credulity Nexus (29 page)

-oOo-

Clearing customs at Heinlein was easier
and no doubt cheaper than it had been leaving Guadalajara. The
official who came aboard to inspect
The Phenomenon of Man
didn't even bother to pretend to do her
job. Rik was glad of Lanham's money and organisation, smoothing the
road ahead of him wherever he went. Of course, he wouldn't hesitate
to pull the plug on the whole of Omega Point if he got the chance,
but Rik couldn't deny that having a rich psychopath backing you had
its conveniences.

He left Rivers
in the boarding tunnel and went back to med to collect Fariba
Freymann. The upload wouldn't go down the ramp to the terminal
building without him, but she didn't seem keen for his company,
either. There was an electric cart waiting to take them all below,
and Rik supposed that Rivers and a few others from the crew would
be waiting in it when he got back.

“
You're looking better,” he told Freymann
when he reached med. “In fact, you're looking great.”

Freymann did a
twirl for him, smiling happily. She had on a dress that was a mist
of pastel gossamer layers, floating impossibly in the Moon's gentle
gravity. As she twirled, the material wrapped itself closely around
her body, then slowly drifted out again. It was a fashion common
among the women of Heinlein, but Rik had seldom seen it worn so
well.

“
I've always wanted to try one of these,”
she said. “I borrowed it from Vicki in the med bay.”

“
Vicki?”

“
Even doctors have names, you
know.”

“
You look beautiful,” he said, and
regretted it. He didn't want her to think he was coming on again.
But Freymann didn't seem to mind. In fact, she gave him a warm
smile that made his heart beat faster.

“
Your carriage awaits.” He glanced towards
the door and held out an arm for her to take. “Madame?”

Freymann
laughed and took his arm. “I like the Moon,” she said. “I always
feel like I could fly.”

“
You've been to Heinlein
before?”

“
No. I went to Verne once for a short trip,
and stayed a whole month in Robinson.”

“
Robinson?”

“
I know. It's a dump. But I can't help it,
I'm just a low-G kinda gal. I'd probably be happy in the helium 3
mines at L-City.”

Rik had worked
a case last year at L-City, and didn't think any sane person could
be happy there, but he didn't want to contradict her.

They headed
for the exit, but Rik stopped before they got there, suddenly
serious.

“
Fariba,” he said. “Why don't you take off?
There are plenty of places in Heinlein to disappear to. You don't
need to tag along.”

Freymann chose
to pretend it was a joke. “Er, hello. Security agent, working a
case.”

“
They suspended you, remember. Besides, if
things don't work out...”

“
I know the score, Rik.”

“
Maybe. It's a pretty long shot that Maria
would have come here. Even if she did, she might not have the
package. And, even if she did–”

“
There's a very good chance our favourite
zombie will snatch it and take out everyone in sight, just to leave
things nice and tidy.”

Rik gave her a
baleful stare. “So that's why you should take off now, before the
shooting starts.”

“
That's very noble of you, sweetie, but
you're forgetting something.”

Rik shook his
head. “If you've got some crazy notion that you're taking that
package back to London with you, you can forget it. Once I get hold
of it, it's going up the tether to Partway, onto the first shuttle
I can find, and out the airlock as soon as we're at cruising
speed.”

For a second,
Freymann looked defiant. Then she sighed and looked up at the
ceiling. “Maybe you're right. Maybe that is the best thing. Either
way, Rivers is not going to let anyone take it. You'd have to kill
her first.” She smiled. “And for that, you'll need help.”

Rik tried one
more time. “It's too dangerous.”

But Freymann
ignored him. She flounced past him in her floaty dress, making it
stream behind her. “Come on, big fella. She'll be coming in to get
us if we hang about much longer, and I want to get into town and
show off my Moon dress.”

“
Are you always this damned stubborn?” he
called, setting off after her.

“
No, only when I want to get my own
way.”

“
Ha, ha. And do you really think that...
that meringue you're wearing is a suitable outfit for fighting
ninja zombies?”

“
It's camouflage. I blend in with all the
colours your face is turning.”

He hurried to
keep up with her. “So, what, MI6 gives its agents stand-up comedian
training now?”

She stopped
and turned. Rik almost ploughed into her. Stopping in low gravity
being harder than it looks.

“
Rik, you've lost this one. Accept it with
good grace and move on. Otherwise I'll have to pull my concealed
weapon and blow your head off, OK?”

He could see
she was right. If she wanted to come along, there was nothing he
could do about it, so he might as well stop sulking. And in any
other circumstances, he'd be glad to have her around.

“
You don't have one,” he said.

“
One what?”

“
A concealed weapon.” He
grinned.

She grinned
back and bobbed up to kiss his cheek. “Well, bless you for
noticing.” She turned away, laughing, and glided towards the
exit.

Rik trudged
after her. “Did that doctor give you the wrong shot or something?
No-one is this cheerful on their way to certain death.”

Maria and
Kirsty entered The Harsh Mistress arm-in-arm, like a couple of old
friends. Partly this was because Kirsty was sick and tired of her
prisoner stumbling around and falling over. Partly, it was so that
the silly little airhead didn't get the idiotic notion that she
could make a run for it. It also kept Maria close in case Kirsty
had to shoot her with the dart gun. Those things were hopeless at
long range.

The bar was
scruffy on the outside and dingy within, not out of place at all in
its neighbourhood. It was bigger on the inside than she had
expected. Cleaner, too. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she
saw that the giant behind the bar was a zombie; a mean looking guy
who was already checking them out, as he idly wiped a glass he'd
probably been wiping all day. She took a moment to scan the room. A
dozen or so men sat around talking and drinking. Rough types.
Tether monkeys. Most of them had weird body-mods. Men like that had
themselves modded these days the way they would have had themselves
tattooed in more genteel times. She didn't see anyone who looked
like a cop. Even the drunk woman sleeping alone at a table looked
kosher.

“
You know anyone?” she asked
Maria.

The blonde
shook her head. “Just the barman.”

Kirsty raised
an eyebrow. “How does a pretty little girl like you know a scarred
up old bastard like that?”

Maria barked
out a laugh. “If you're around Rik long enough, you get to meet all
kinds of charming people.” She seemed to think better of it,
though. “I don't know; he seems OK. I only spoke to him once, on
the phone.”

So the zombie
had made Maria when they came in and he hadn't let on. That was
worth keeping in mind.

“
OK. Introduce me.”

They went up
to the bar and Veb nodded a brief greeting. He didn't offer to get
them a drink.

“
You're Mr. Rea,” Maria said. She seemed
nervous in the zombie's presence. “I'm Maria Dunlop, We spoke on
the phone.”

The barkeep
leaned forwards. When he spoke, he had a deep, soft voice. “Maria,
is this woman bothering you?” He turned slowly to face Kirsty.
Maria's eyes widened in horror.

“
Easy, tiger,” Kirsty said, smiling
pleasantly. She let him see the pistol pointing at Maria's ribs.
“We're all friends here.”

The upload did
not seem in the least surprised. “You hurt my friend's wife,” he
said calmly, “and you don't hurt anyone ever again.”

“
That's good,” Kirsty said. “Now we all
understand each other. I'm looking for Rik. Why don't you go fetch
him?”

Veb looked
across at Maria.

“
It's OK,” Maria said. “She just wants to
sell him something.”

He looked back
at Kirsty, still calm, still menacing. “Something that already
belongs to him, I'm guessing.”

Kirsty smiled,
suppressing the urge to tell the damned machine where to stick his
guesses. “Such a clever boy to be stuck tending a rat-infested bar
all day.”

“
Rik's not here.”

“
Where is he?”

“
Judging by the time-lag on our last
conversation, he's a long, long way from here.”

Now Kirsty was
really confused. Time lag? What the hell was the man doing in deep
space? She rounded on Maria. “You told me he'd be here.”

“
All I told you was I hoped he'd be here.
All I said was that I don't know where else he could
go.”

“
So now what?” Veb asked.

It was a good
question and Kirsty didn't have an answer. If she was going to get
any money for those phials, she needed this Rik guy, and she needed
him fast. She could only stall her client for so long. Which gave
her an idea.

“
Rik was doing a job for someone. Who's
paying him?”

Veb shrugged.
“He doesn't tell me his business.”

Kirsty played
a hunch. “But you know anyway, don't you, clever boy? Nothing gets
past you, right?”

Maria spoke
up. “Please, Mr. Rea. If you know, just tell her.”

Veb looked at
her with what must have been zombie compassion. “Maria, I know you
think you're in a bad place right now, but the truth is I could
reach out and snap this woman's neck like a toothpick any time I
wanted to.”

Kirsty took a
step away from the bar, dragging Maria with her. “Don't even think
about it buddy.”

Veb shrugged
again. “Point is, Maria, Rik's got friends, and that means you got
friends. This sour old lady isn't going to hurt you 'cause she
knows what's good for her. Now, supposing I could tell her who Rik
was working for, do you think he'd want me to?”

Maria looked
down at the barrel of Kirsty's gun, then up at the enormous
mechanoid. “I don't know. All I know is, whatever plans he might
have had seem to have gone completely pear-shaped. I have a feeling
he'd be better off right out of it.”

“
So spill it, Tin Man. Who do I deal
with?”

Veb shook his
head. The big upload looked like he'd had enough of making hard
choices. “I'll make the call,” he said. “Why don't you two take a
seat, and I'll bring you a couple of drinks. What do I call you by
the way, if I get asked?”

“
Call me what you like, just tell them I've
got the package.”

-oOo-

Greet-Greet
McGregor was in church when the call came. The Church of the Holy
Radionuclide wasn't a popular one in Heinlein. It wasn't
particularly popular anywhere, for that matter, and was banned in
several European countries, but its followers were devout.

The viewscreen
at the front of the tiny chapel flicked from one number to another,
and Greet-Greet checked his reader. The numbers were randomly
generated by the nuclear decay processes in a consecrated Thorium
source, kept in the Church's Grand Cathedral on Earth. They were
translated into individually-tailored Bible verse references by a
sanctified algorithm in his electronic Bible. In this way, God,
through the physical laws of His universe, spoke directly to the
faithful. It was an idea that filled Greet-Greet with joy whenever
he contemplated it.

He didn't
appreciate being called from this holy communion to deal with
matters mundane, but when he saw who was calling, he forgot
immediately about the verse he'd been studying and made a beeline
for the door.

Outside in the
street – the church was no more than a standard three-by-five
commercial prefab unit – he almost tripped over a young boy. The
boy was thin and pale, with sandy hair. He watched Greet-Greet from
under his brows with an expression that was already half
flinching.

“
Me Mam sent me,” the boy said, getting in
his defence before Greet-Greet had time to scold him.

The Scotsman
looked up and down the street, twitching with irritation. “Here,”
he snapped, and transferred some money using his cogplus. “Now
bugger off.”

“
She said she wanted–”

Greet-Greet
raised a hand, and the boy ducked his head. “I don't care what she
wanted. That's all she'll get. Bugger off, I said.”

“
But, Dad...”

Greet-Greet
took a swipe at the boy, but the lad dodged out of range.
Greet-Greet cursed, but didn't try to catch him. “Just sod off
home, and don't let me catch you hanging about here again, d'ye
hear? Now off wi' ye. I've got business to attend to.”

He set off
down the road without a backward glance. The boy watched in
silence.

Although he'd
come four hundred thousand kilometres to find her, the last thing
Rik expected to see when he walked into The Harsh Mistress was his
ex-wife.

Not that he
saw anything until his eyes adjusted to the gloom. The place was
darker than usual, with half the light fittings shot up and not yet
replaced. A mournful ballad was oozing out of the sound system, as
if The Mistress were singing her own lament for better days. He saw
Veb behind the bar, and the usual collection of off-shift
tether-monkeys propping it up.