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Dr. Jonat deVrai. The consultant who prepared the controversial report was
attacked by unregistered clones almost two months ago and severely injured. He
was picked up by a medvan with safo markings, but he has never been seen
again, and it has been proved that the medvan was not a safo van. Is he dead?
Or just in hiding? No one seems to know. Meanwhile, the campaign reform debate
just gets hotter...
Newly-elected Senator Juan Carlisimo and his director of campaign security
insist that they had nothing to do with the disappearance of consultant Jonat
deVrai ... DeVrai's sister and brother-in-law were murdered by a clone who
looked like deVrai. Analysis of the clone revealed genetic dissimilarities to
deVrai. DeVrai's report was highly critical of techniques used by the
Carlisimo campaign. Carlisimo security personnel had earlier detained deVrai,
and the consultant was questioned by the head of
Carlisimo security. All-News has just learned that three individuals
impersonating Carlisimo security personnel were discovered outside the hotel
where deVrai had stayed in Epaso. All three had been subdued with some form of
neural disrupter ... it has been charged that the three had been hired to
intimidate or even murder deVrai ... Senator Crosslin had this to say:
The screen showed a handsome, dark-haired man, who began to speak.
"This whole sorry mess shows the need for immediate campaign reform. Whether
he intended it or not, Senator Carlisimo's approach to his campaign opens the
possibility that voters will be unconsciously manipulated into voting on the
basis of their purchasing and link-viewing patterns, and not on the basisof
thoughtfulconsideration. This kind of manipulation cannot be allowed to
continue or to grow into an ebol-style attack on our system. Spending
restrictions and media usage limits must be tightened, and they must be
tightened immediately. When honest consultants are attacked and perhaps
murdered, when their families are murdered, for revealing abuses of the
system, it is past time for action..."
Now ... on a lighter note, we'll be bringing you the results of the
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whack-board competitions from Tahiti...
I pulsed off the news. Another pseudo-athletic competition I didn't need.
After that, I found a dull documentary on the financing abuses of the
twentieth century.
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In time, Paula did appear with a meal tray.
"Good afternoon, Dr. deVrai." She set the tray on the small table, then sat
down on the stool across from me. It was five past noon.
"What did you do to me? Physically ... physiologically?"
"Adjusted a few aspects of your system ... improved your metabolism, added
five percent more muscle cells in key areas of your body. That will give you
more strength. That also allowed a rebalancing of the musculature in your legs
for an optimal fast and slow twitch balance. You have better lung efficiency
as well."
"Did you have to go into my lungs?"
"You only had thirty percent capacity remaining after the rocket impact."
I took a mouthful of the meat and gravy on the tray, all reformulator-based. I
missed really good food, but I was also thankful to be alive. "Why the
improvements?"
"Because the probabilities are that, even with Central Four's direct
assistance, you would not survive the forces focused upon you without
additional capabilities."
"What other capabilities?" I was afraid to ask, but I had to know.
"You must have noticed. You have a voluntary direct link to Central Four."
I had just thought that had been the combination of my implant and my location
within Central Four. "So you can take over my body?" I was close to shuddering
at that point. "Like another cydroid?"
"No! Central Four cannot do that. That would be wrong." She actually sounded
upset, and involuntarily so. "If you choose, you can communicate with Central
Four from most locations in Denv. From elsewhere you would need a commlink,
but the communication would be faster and totally secure."
The chill in me subsided some. I had to hope that Central Four was telling the
truth. Then again, besides
Aliora, I wasn't sure that anyone had been telling me the whole truth. Did
anyone ever tell the whole truth?
At the thought of Aliora, my eyes burned, and I couldn't even see Paula
Athene's figure, sitting across the small table from me.
"You're upset."
"Not at you. I was thinking about Aliora." I swallowed, and then took a sip of
the iced tea.
"You cared for your sister greatly."
"Yes. We're ... we were very close." I had to change the subject. "When can I
leave here?"
"Tomorrow morning. Very early."
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"More sneaking around."
"If there are fewer safos around the station, there are fewer who might ask
questions. You'll wear a maintenance uniform. You will walk two blocks to the
pubcom station and then call Central Four and request transportation. You will
immediately receive that transportation, as well as a full security screen at
your house."
"Deniability yet." My tone was dry.
"Pubcom records provide proof. Central Four will monitor you closely from the
moment you leave this chamber."
"You chose Tuesday for a reason?"
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"Statistically, it is optimal." She smiled, and the expression was
self-mocking, the effect charming.
Sometimes, it was hard to believe she was a cydroid extension of an AI, but
doubtless that was calculated as well.
After she left, I couldn't help wondering about why Central Four had wanted my
help. The stated reason made all too much sense, especially if Central Four
had become aware of information that others might not want known and an
intelligent system was even easier to erase or assassinate than an individual,
with far fewer consequences if anyone found out.
But was that all? What else was behind Central Four? What other reasons?
I laughed, softly. There were certainly other reasons, and I'd find those out
in time. I hoped the discovery wouldn't be too unpleasant.
Chapter 53
Standing before the reporting screen at Antoinette's, Marlon held the servie
unit in his hands. After a long time, he lifted it, as if to place the
millimeter-thin persona projection unit within the tunic's slit pocket. His
hands dropped, and he had to clutch at the unit to keep from dropping it.
"Marlon," said the voice of Central Four, "damaging the persona unit could add
another year to your service."
"Another friggin' year ... for dropping it?" Marlon glared at the screen. His
face had become more lean, mature in a way that verged on gauntness.
"Six months for carelessness, a year or more for deliberate destruction. Those
are the servie guidelines.
You could always choose to emigrate off-Earth," declared the image of the safo
parole officer male and stern. Central Four found that image particularly
effective.
"Leave everyone behind? My ma? My bro?" Marlon's fingers tightened around the
persona unit. "You crazy or sumthin'?"
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"You might find it easier than usingthe persona unit. Some people do. You have
complained about your position."
"Friggin' right. Sorvie shit. Me, I'm hotter 'n this. Not friggin' crazy,
though. Them CorPaks are worse 'n the Kemals." Slowly, very slowly, he eased [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]