Varken Rise (7 page)

She shook her head. “I know what it appears to be. I do. We weren’t arguing, though. Bedivere didn’t believe Kemp and I….” She pressed her lips together. “I wasn’t sure.”

“Did Bedivere know that you doubted him?” Lilly asked sharply.

Catherine sighed. “Yes.”

“And he took Jo’s death hard, too,” Brant added.

“Then there was Kemp, arguing the traditionalist position, that computers are dangerous. Bedivere thought you believed Kemp.” Lilly pressed her hands together the fingers intertwining. Her knuckles were white.

“Are you to trying to convince me that Bedivere killed him? Or yourselves?” Catherine asked dryly. “Why are you even considering it? You know Bedivere. You know he wouldn’t do this, hell, he won’t even carry a gun unless forced to.”

“It’s not evidence,” Brant said. “However, the facts are damning.”

Catherine shook her head. She had no answer for that. Instead, she turned back to the heads-up display. “Computer, continue.”

There were only four other entries after that. Kemp went to his room not long after Catherine had left the kitchen. Then, in the early hours of the morning he went out to the common room. That was not remarkable. However, the entry logged a second person in the common room. Her heart sank.

“Bedivere was there,” Lilly whispered.

“And they were both went back to Kemp’s room.” Brant added.

The very last entry showed Bedivere leaving the room nearly an hour later. Catherine stared at the entry, her thoughts reeling.

“We must call in the gendarmes,” Brant said. His voice was gentle. “The longer you wait….”

She swallowed. Brant was right of course. “There’s no reason not to, now. We have all the answers we can get on our own. Once the room and the body are processed, we’ll know more. Lilly, would you mind calling them? If I call, it will be instant news. The feeds are registered to my voice print. For as long as possible, I would prefer to keep this out of the news. That won’t last forever and I want a chance to resolve this before the speculation begins.”

“You know what they going to say, don’t you?” Brant said.

“I can see the streamers now,” she said tiredly.

* * * * *

The Oceania authorities were just as anxious as Catherine to keep everything under wraps. Nicia was a law-abiding world and there hadn’t been a murder here for decades. Once news broke, tourism would drop and the economy would suffer.

Because the gendarmes were not used to processing a murder, things moved slowly. They were cautious even in the way they spoke to her, tiptoeing around her. Catherine knew they had drawn conclusions from the logs and from the interviews with Brant, Lilly and her. Of course they had—as Brant had said, the evidence was compelling.

It took twenty-nine hours for the room to be processed. Catherine did not protest over the delay. She wanted them to take their time and get it right. It was the longest twenty-nine hours of her life.

As the processing, testing and analysis wound to a conclusion, the gendarmes grew steadily more silent. They stopped looking at her sideways. They stopped looking at her at all. They began to whisper to each other and there were lots of conferences around the portable terminals as they consulted with others.

Brant, Lilly and Catherine stayed in the common room and used the galley to generate food and drink as they needed it. None of them seem to have an appetite, so mostly they just sat.

The common room featured cathedral ceilings and floor-to-ceiling armored steel glass that made up one wall, that provided a lot of the energy that ran the complex. Catherine watched the sun appear at the top of the window wall toward the late afternoon, then sink down into the sea in a spectacular display of purples and reds.

Not long after, a man they had not seen before threaded his way through the furniture over to where they all sat in a silent group next to the window. He was wearing an old-fashioned business suit that looked freshly cleaned. He was drawing close to his next regeneration, for silver was showing at his temples and there were deep wrinkles around his eyes and mouth.

He did not sit down. “Mr. Shahrazad,” he began. “I have a few questions, if you don’t mind?”

“We are happy to cooperate,” Catherine said. She waved to the armchair sitting between the two sofas. The others who had questioned them this long day had all used that chair—usually uninvited.

The man sat down. “My name is Done Rison. I am the president of Oceania Securities.”

“You’re not with the gendarmerie?” Brant said.

“The gendarmes are out of their depth,” Rison said. “I have had personal experience dealing with violent crimes, so they asked me to step in as a consultant.”

“You’re not a native of Nicia?” Catherine asked.

“Since the planet was established, Nicia has recorded only five murders. It must be the sea air. No, I am not a native of Nicia.” He gave her a small smile. “Have you tried to contact Mr.… er… Bedivere?”

Catherine resisted the impulse to roll her eyes at the obvious question. “Constantly, throughout the day. I can’t reach him.”

“Or perhaps he chooses not to respond?” Rison suggested.

Catherine kept her mouth shut.

“Would it surprise you to know that Mr.…that Bedivere left Nicia early this morning?”

“You make it sound as though he was escaping,” Catherine said. “I’m sure by now you know exactly who Bedivere is. You must also know that for him, jumping to another planet is like you stepping over to the next complex. It is a barely significant shift in location.” She kept her voice casual as she asked her own question, making it sound as if the answer was of mild, passing interest to her. “Where did he jump to?”

“We don’t know. No one seems to know. He hasn’t registered at any gate station that we know of.” Rison studied her. “It is almost as if he doesn’t want to be found.”

Catherine decided she did not like Rison. “Or perhaps he simply forgot to register at the gate station. As he doesn’t use gates, it’s not as though his ship is automatically logged.”

“We have finished analyzing the room and the body,” Rison said, abruptly changing subject. “Nicia may be at a loss to deal with a murder, but there are exceptional research laboratories here. We not only scrubbed for any biological traces, including DNA, prints and pheromones, we also took a bio-map image and sent it to other experts to analyze.”

“Are you trying to impress me, Mr. Rison, or do you have a point to make?”

“That was my point,” he said. “Initial analysis pointed toward a suspect, so we pressed on with far more advanced analysis to establish the results beyond doubt. In a situation like this, with so many political ramifications, it is important that no mistakes are made.”

Catherine just looked at him. She wasn’t going to prompt him to provide the kicker. She already knew what it was.

“Bedivere’s fingerprints were on the knife,” Rison said. “So was his DNA, as he thrust so hard that cells were transferred to the hilt. Every other biological trace we found is his or Mr. Rodagh’s. He didn’t try to cover up, or remove his traces.”

Catherine nodded. There was nothing to say.

Rison got to his feet. “Because of the passive tracking that you fortunately put into place, we know that the three of you are all completely innocent. That leaves no other suspect. I will be advising the gendarmerie to put out a warrant for Bedivere’s detainment. Under the circumstances, because of who and what he is, we will recommend the use of any force necessary.”

He nodded at them all pleasantly, as if this was a social call.

Catherine didn’t notice him leave. She didn’t notice Lilly sit beside her and pick up her hand, until Lilly squeezed it.

“I’m sorry,” Lilly said.

Catherine shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”

“You don’t believe he killed Kemp?” Brant asked.

She took her time answering. There were not many people whose good opinion she cared about. Brant and Lilly were among those few. “I will be deconstructing their analysis down to the pixel, to look for biases. If they are right, if they have been fair in their analysis, then it seems that Bedivere did kill Kemp. I just refuse to believe that he did it for the reasons they think he did.”

“They didn’t give any reasons,” Lilly pointed out.

“Yes, they did,” Catherine said.

“He’s recommending any force necessary,” Brant said. “That means they think that Bedivere will be violent. They think they have a rogue Varkan on their hands.”

Nicia (Sunita II), Sunita System. FY 10.092

Catherine lost track of the days and nights that followed. She kept the artificial sunlight blazing in the common room, so even when it was dark outside, she didn’t notice.

Strangers tracked through the complex daily. She assigned the house AI to monitoring and granting entry as necessary. Nearly everyone who wanted access was associated with the gendarmes, or other Oceania authorities. It was simpler to just let them have their way.

She didn’t want to sleep. She didn’t want to see the empty bed. When she absolutely had to close her eyes, she curled up on the sofa. Once or twice, she asked Lilly to bring her a fresh change of clothes from her room. She refused to step inside the room herself.

For the same reason she stayed away from the office. The big empty chair sitting at the other desk was too much of a vivid reminder, just as the empty bed was.

The Oceania authorities managed to keep the news contained for a whole forty hours. Catherine knew the moment the news broke, because Connell sent her frantic message.

I just heard! Please, can I speak to you?

Catherine sent for Brant, then invited Connell to visit.

Connell appeared instantly, startling one of the gendarmes who were just passing through with his abrupt appearance. He moved toward Catherine as if he would either shake her or hug her. His arms were out at his sides, raising up in the air as if he did not know what else to do with them. “This is impossible! I don’t believe he did it.”

Brant arrived at that moment. “I’m afraid he really did do it,” he told Connell. “We’ve been over the evidence, too. Catherine is very good with biologics. It’s conclusive. Ninety-three percent.”

Connell’s mouth opened, yet he did not speak. Then he appeared to pull himself together. “
Why
?”

“That is a question we would like to answer for ourselves,” Catherine told him. “Until we can speak with Bedivere, we can only guess.”

“Then talk to Bedivere!” Connell said, as if it was blatantly obvious that this was the next step to take.

“We can’t find him,” Catherine said. “He’s gone to ground.”

Connell glanced around the room, taking in the strangers who were working at their own portable terminals, or moving through from the drop shaft to the private wings where Kemp’s room was. He leaned forward and dropped his voice. “I bet I can find him.”

Catherine realized she was smiling. Just a little. “Not if he doesn’t want to be found,” she told him.

“He would hide from us?” Connell asked. “We are his friends and he knows that. We can look for him in ways and places that no one else can.”

Brant raised his brows. “He might be right at that, too,” he said. “Bedivere would feel safe responding to the Varkan.”

Connell nodded as if the decision had been made. “I will talk to everyone else,” he declared.

“Carefully,” Catherine urged him. “Only speak to those you trust completely. The Varkan you know. AIs are very good at mimicking awareness, so you should be wary of any strangers trying to talk to you about Bedivere.”

Connell closed his eye in a slow wink. “I will be careful!”

Within minutes, the media streams and feeds exploded with the news of the murder. It did not take long after that for speculation to begin about Bedivere’s mental state. Catherine listened to reporters bandying about words like “dementia” and “rogue”, and ancient concepts including “nervous breakdown” and “emotional crisis”. She tried not to listen too closely or take it on board in a personal way. It was difficult.

Lilly watched with growing disgust. “I wonder how long it will take them to start questioning the safety of any computer?”

“Not long, I imagine,” Catherine said dryly. She studied Lilly. “When they do, though, they will only be saying what you’re thinking.”

“That is where you’re wrong.” Lilly gave her a small smile. “In ten years of negotiations with Cadfael College, you haven’t noticed what side of the table I’ve been sitting on? I may have been raised to believe that computers were evil and would kill us all if we let them free. Then I met Bedivere. I no more believe he has gone rogue than you do. I’m beginning to think that computers do not go rogue. I don’t think the concept is a possibility.”

“Kemp was very convincing,” Catherine said.

“Enough to have you doubting Bedivere himself,” Lilly said softly. “Don’t give into the doubts, Cat. When Bedivere reaches out for help, you want to be able to help him.”

“He won’t reach out,” Catherine said. “There’s a reason that he didn’t come to me straight after it happened. As long as that reason holds, he won’t let me find him.”

* * * * *

Journalistic fear-mongering incubated for three days, then it seemed as though the entire core world systems started screaming hysterically about computers gone wild and calling for the disassembly or harnessing of every computer before they indulged in genocide.

Catherine had stopped watching the feeds. She checked them once a day for actual updates, of which there was usually none. Bedivere had disappeared.

When the planetary governor of Darwin, in the Sykora system, called for the core worlds to cooperate in a universal shackling of computers, Catherine found herself unable to shut down the feeds. She and Lilly and Brant sat around the table watching the display while the food went cold.

“He’s proposing we all returned to the dark ages,” Brant growled.

“He’s smart. There are very few people who were not raised by the College who have no childhood prejudices to throw off. He’s tapping into those old fears, for political coinage,” Catherine said.