Uraniaville was a residential neighborhood in a mid-gee quadrant.
"Why Urania?" she asked. "Why then?"
"We don"t know," Aaron said.
"Hang on." She brought up Jonesy. She fed it the term "Uraniaville" and asked it to cross-reference with information on news coverage over the past three months. Then her lift arrived at the Hub, and she launched herself out.
Her destination was a set of computer archive banks at Weesu and Level 1, the uppermost level beneath the Hub. The tunnels surrounding the archive were cordoned off with a mesh of police tape. A crowd of spectators had gathered to ogle the goings-on beyond the barrier. The officers standing watch inside the barrier recognized Jane, but would not part the mesh to let her through until Aaron came over and authorized it.
"This way," he said.
The mesh repelled "Stroiders" motes. An officer sprayed her with a fine mist to rid her of any clinging to her skin or clothing. Then she accompanied Aaron into the archive room. Chief Fitzpatrick stood nearby.
The forensic team guided a small army of miniature sapients in the measuring of blood spray patterns, gathering of air samples, and collecting of dust for DNA a.n.a.lysis. Near the computer banks was Marty"s corpse, attended to by a medic in a body glove and filtration mask. Two other officers were studying the room.
Marty"s body lay inside a shallow, inflatable bug bath. a.s.sembler fluid sloshed lazily therein. A network of tubing draped him. He looked like a vine-coated, semi-deflated, plant-based version of himself. The medic bobbed beside him, stripping off the paraphernalia. The sour-sweet smell of a.s.sembly fluid reached her.
Jane started, remembering the dream image of her son with Marty"s face, dead and covered in vines, and again felt the Voice"s faint touch.
She had known. She had known.
"The medical team tried to revive him," Fitzpatrick told her, "but we found him too late."
They lofted themselves over to Marty"s remains, which rested lightly on the floor. The body stirred in the faint gee as the medics worked. Fitzpatrick introduced the detectives a.s.signed to the case, Detectives Duran and Wilkes.
"What killed him?" Aaron asked. The medic gestured at the entry wound. "He was shot once in the belly with a semiauto biotic."
A biotic? Jane tasted bile. Aaron clenched his fists. Biotics were one of the nastiest hand weapons developed in the last century. The bullets contained an exploding head that on penetrating their target released disa.s.semblers tailored to liquefy anything organic that had a high-enough water content-organs, muscles, connective tissue. It left the enveloping skin alone. The end effect was to convert a human body to a skin bag filled with bones and goo. Jane tasted bile. Aaron clenched his fists. Biotics were one of the nastiest hand weapons developed in the last century. The bullets contained an exploding head that on penetrating their target released disa.s.semblers tailored to liquefy anything organic that had a high-enough water content-organs, muscles, connective tissue. It left the enveloping skin alone. The end effect was to convert a human body to a skin bag filled with bones and goo.
Biotics were outlawed everywhere, because under conditions of dense enough bioma.s.s, there was a slight chance that the bugs would get splashed onto bystanders while in their brief active phase, and start a chain reaction that could take out a lot of bystanders. They were a favorite weapon of terrorists.
"Probably a Glock-Prime Five Hundred Short-Slide-that"s the most popular model. Minimal blood loss," the medic went on, "but"-a shrug-"not much you can do if you aren"t on-scene with the right c.o.c.ktail of neutralizers at the instant of impact."
"How long..." Jane cleared her throat. "How long ago was he killed?"
Detective Duran said, "It"s difficult to tell. Disa.s.sembly wipes out the traces that we could use to pinpoint the time of death-it messes with body temperature and obliterates postmortem decomposition."
Aaron answered, his voice thin and sharp. "I sent him to retrieve the archives about two hours ago. He was coming straight here from the office."
"During the "Stroiders" blackout," Jane noted. That had cost him his life. "It would have taken him ten minutes or less to get here, and how long, Aaron? Perhaps another five or so to remove the archives?"
"I"m not sure..."
"Maybe five," Tania broke in from waves.p.a.ce. "Maybe a few minutes more. He wasn"t used to doing it."
Detective Wilkes checked something in her waveface. "That would give a time of death between about three-twenty and three-thirty, then. He was clearly set upon while he was here. What exactly was he doing?"
"Removing two archival drives for examination," Aaron said. "As I explained to Chief Fitzpatrick earlier, we had evidence of a break-in to our computer systems during the feral sapient"s attack. I sent Marty up here to pick up the archives before they were brought back inwave. Tania, which were the units in question?"
"They don"t show up on my waveface, but if I am visualizing your positions correctly," she said, "they"d be over there. Behind Jane." Tania gestured toward a bank of drives that glittered on one wall. They all turned and looked. Dismay settled in Jane"s belly. "Where the smashed equipment is now?"
Aaron demanded of Detective Wilkes, "Were any loose data drives found in here?"
"You mean these?" Detective Duran drifted up beside her partner, carrying two clear, labeled bags filled with biocrystalline data drive fragments. "Looks like the murderer stole whatever components were removable, and smashed the rest."
Jane looked at Aaron. So they had nothing.
"Has his fiancee been notified?"
Detective Duran"s eyebrows rose. "Not yet. Who are his next-of-kin?"
Aaron provided the information, while Jane kicked over to the medic, who, with the help of Detective Wilkes, was putting Marty"s body in a shroud.
"Is the-Is it safe for me to touch him?" Jane asked.
"It is. We"ve thoroughly neutralized the toxins."
"Then I"d like a minute."
"Of course."
The medic and officer stepped back, and Jane alighted beside Marty. She studied his distorted face-closed eyes, tan freckles, smoke-pale lips. If Benavidez had not fired her, would she have sent Marty on this errand?
A terrible fury stirred in her.
"Good-bye, Marty," she said. She took his hand. It was a collection of fluid and splinters, jarringly cold to the touch, even through the membrane.
For the first time in a very long time she was free-free to follow her convictions and act on her will, and not worry about the political or resource implications. She was a free agent.
"I promise you," she whispered. I"ll catch the people who did this, and I will destroy them. I"ll catch the people who did this, and I will destroy them.
Jane left Aaron talking with the chief of police and headed back down to Bottomsville. She told Sarah what had happened. Sarah stared at Jane, gravely. "Give me an hour to wrap some things up," Sarah said, "and I"ll take you to dinner."
There, in private, while she waited, she got to work.
Jonesy had the Uraniaville results. Most were junk info, of no particular interest-arts and entertainment news, neighborhood events, notices of public meetings for land use reallocation, and editorials about proposed use of structures in rea.s.sembly, and so on. But one stood out: 22 April 2397 (Phocaea Free Press)- (Phocaea Free Press)- Uraniaville resident Ivan Kovak implicated in destruction of cl.u.s.ter ice stores. More >> More >> She scanned the article. It contained no new information, but the fact that Ivan was a Uraniaville resident told her all she needed to know. Whoever had broken into their computer systems last night had been trying to suppress a video of something that had happened in Uraniaville about five weeks ago, shortly before Kovak"s marriage supposedly fell apart and his partners left with the kids. She was now sure that the video was of someone meeting with, or having access to the residence of, Ivan Kovak.
She called Sean. "Have you heard about Marty?"
She could already tell he had, from his expression. "Aaron just called me. G.o.dd.a.m.ned evil f.u.c.kwads. Tell me who did it. I"ll shoot him myself."
"I think I know who did it," Jane said. "I"m trying to get proof."
He rubbed at his eyes. "Why is it that the young die and we old people are left to soldier on, Commissioner?"
"Just Jane," she said. "Please."
"h.e.l.l, you"ll always be Commissioner to me. But all right. Jane. Things are going to s.h.i.t."
"I know, Sean. I know." She sighed and rubbed at her eyes, which burned with fatigue. The meds Marty had given her had long since worn off. When had she last gotten a good night"s sleep? "Did the police have any evidence that Kovak accepted a bribe? Any unusual deposits into his bank account, or anything like that?"
"Nope. If there was a bribe, the spouses took it with them."
"Or maybe the bribe was his family"s lives."
He made a disgruntled noise. "I"d rather go on thinking of him as a loss to humanity."
Jane looked askance. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, my friend."
He made a noise. "Incidentally, I"m a.s.suming that b.a.s.t.a.r.d Benavidez pulled the plug on your Zekeston housing allowance."
"Actually, I"m supposed to get a s.h.i.tload of money, but not till I leave. In the meantime... you guessed correctly."
"Well, you and Xuan are welcome to our spare room while you"re in town, for as long as you like."
Good to know who your friends were. "That"s kind of you. Xuan"s friends put us up last night, but I"m not sure if their invitation extended beyond the night. Do you need to talk it over with Lisa?"
"Nope. It was her idea."
"We may take you up on it, then. I"ll have to talk to Xuan, but it"ll be a while before I can reach him. He"s off somewhere on a sugar-rock claim and I"m not sure where he is."
"Ah? I can help you there. I saw him a while ago, out here at the docks as he was loading his equipment for the run. It"s the rock that belongs to the Agre kid-you probably heard about that."
"Geoff Agre owns a rock? That kid is full of surprises."
"You"re telling me." Sean shook his head. "Apparently some old miner gave him a tapped-out claim a while back, and it has some ice in it. It"s what got him in trouble with the black marketers last night."
"Black marketers? I am so out of the loop! Why didn"t you tell me about this earlier? Never mind-things have been hectic. I get it. But what happened? Do his parents know?"
"It wasn"t him, supposedly; his friend Ian Carmichael, the kid who had his arm removed, remember him?"
"Of course."
"Shortly before the feral sapient attack, Ian apparently got Geoff and his friends tangled up with some bad elements. I helped them extract themselves, in my capacity as duly-deputized police officer."
"Ah. So that"s why you were with them at the time of the attacks."
"Right. And in answer to your other question, I am willing to bet the parents don"t know. Things between Geoff and his parents are... strained at the moment."
""Strained"?"
Sean hesitated. "Put it this way. I got there this morning just in time to watch Geoff"s father plant a fist in his face."
"He didn"t! He"s got fifty kilos on Geoff!"
"He did. It was ugly. Geoff took off and I doubt he"s gotten back in touch with them since." Jane sighed. Sal, you a.s.shole Sal, you a.s.shole. Dee must be beside herself. Jane knew at that instant that Dee"s marriage to Sal was over. Dee had put up with a lot, over the years, for the sake of her boys. But she wouldn"t swallow that.
"Anyhow," Sean went on, "the kid"s sitting on a sugar rock, and Xuan is on the team checking it out."
"Did he say when he"d be back?"
"No, but let me check the flight logs..." She waited, and he came back on. "It"s about a two-and-a-half-hour journey, depending on burn rate, and they left before noon. Depends on how long it takes them to finish the tests, but I"d say he"ll be back by late evening."
"Thanks, Sean."
"My pleasure, Commissioner. Jane," he corrected himself. "Commissioner Jane." He smiled and cut the connection.
Jane did some more thinking about Marty. The tampered tapes were security recordings from a utilities branch office. The question was, were there other recordings from that vicinity? "Stroiders" recordings, for instance? Or recordings from other security cams in the area? She called the Phocaea Public Library"s main branch and asked to speak to the head librarian. Masahiro Takei was a great-great-nephew of Chik.u.ma Funaki"s and was delighted to help Jane.
"We can order whatever "Stroiders" content you want," he said, and spread his hands apologetically. "We don"t store "Stroiders" content here-there"s too much. Neither does the local Upside-Down server, in fact. They encrypt it and beam the raw feed straight to Earth. So we have to submit a request for video of specific times and places."
"So how long will it take to get that information?"
"Normally a request can take as much as five to seven business days to process. But"-he smiled-"I belong to the science wave and we have high-priority access to the full Library of All Nations files. Some friends of mine on Earth manage various content, and they should be able to help us. Send me your list. I"ll get back to you later with the clips you request."
"Thank you." Jane sent him the coordinates for the deleted videos, and then sat back, musing. Her thoughts turned to Marty. She realized how little she knew about him, outside of work. She could only imagine how his family and friends were feeling. She must contact them. She made herself a note.
The dream she had had last night intruded. There had been more to it than just that prescient flash of knowledge of what lay ahead for Marty. Her mother had been in the dream, too. She had never felt so loved, so fully cherished, not even by her own mother, as she had been by the woman in that dream. She realized suddenly that it had been the Voice, giving her a hint of what lay ahead. And this thought opened an inner gate. The Voice came again. This time it was no whisper, but a shout.
JANE!.
She tried to stand, but her surroundings reeled away. Knowledge tumbled into her, like a great wave-filling her-swamping her. She felt her body sink to its knees.
She saw a great hand cupping a fetus in a sac. The sac looked like a globe of ice, or a teardrop. The fetus within it was beautiful-innocent and terrible.
The fetus was the feral sapient.
It hadn"t been destroyed during the excision. It was in hiding.
The Viridians had it. Thondu was working for them, and had smuggled it out during the attack. The troubadour, Thondu, and that young woman Chik.u.ma-sensei had told her about, the one who was, perhaps, spying on Upside-Down for the mob, were somehow linked. The resemblance between them was stronger, now that she thought of it, than it appeared at first glance. They were siblings, perhaps, or something stranger.
The Voice wanted her to protect the feral.
The Voice gave her more. Before her mind"s eye, a great banquet of anguish spread-far worse than anything humankind had ever known. This moment was pa.s.sing swiftly. If she made the right choice, and made it soon, she could nudge events in the right direction. If she did nothing, things would almost certainly go the other way. Many would suffer and die who might otherwise live.
This was why the Voice had come to her.
She thought, even as she saw/felt/heard all this, that it had to be an illusion. A psychosis. Megalomania. Or worse, some manipulative power had hacked her consciousness. Even the feral itself might be tinkering with her neurotransmitters to get her to do what it wanted.
Psychosis was the only rational explanation. But the enfolding vastness of the Voice was still, somehow, all too real. In some way, more real even than she.
Jane came to herself curled on the tile floor of Sarah"s law office.
Sarah was talking. "Jane, can you hear me?" Jane couldn"t quite make out her face. "I hear you." She gasped the words. "Help me up."
With Sarah"s a.s.sistance she wobbled shakily over to the couch and sat. Her vision slowly cleared. The cushions propped her up. How had she gotten back into Sarah"s office? She looked up at her friend: Sarah had her hand on Jane"s shoulder and was gazing worriedly at her.
"What happened?"