“I understand.” He wasn’t sure he did have the full picture of what he was up against. But he saw he had no choice. He wanted to get through this. He wanted it over, for more than just getting back to the business on the planet. He wanted himself back in his own life where he belonged, safe and out of reach of powerful strangers.
“Thank you, Mr. Stafford. I very much appreciate your cooperation.”
“Sir.” He rose and gave a little bow, understanding he had just received his cue and the interview was over. “Tomorrow. 0900h.”
Trouble now, trouble of all sorts if he didn’t handle this well, and meanwhile all hell had broken loose on the planet, and he only hoped Drusus had told Marak it wasn’t his choice to be absent right now. But he couldn’t even choose his own cover story: he’d have to learn it from Drusus, and he’d have to live with it. Business behind the security wall wasn’t something he could explain to Marak later—since they weren’t supposed to inform the planet about the station, or about its politics, and this certainly fell under business behind the security wall. If Drusus didn’t handle it right, he could find everything on end and Marak mad at him when he did get back on duty.
But it was no place to think of that. He paid his courtesies solemnly, received the governor’s polite acceptance, and made his exit past the secretary, not happy, no.
He walked out down the corridor and into the general administrative zone, where he thought there might be tap relays if there were any on this level. There he made the blood shunt in his skull, the coded single long effort that contacted Brazis’s office.
Brazis himself had several aides who shared one of his tap codes, aides who took notes and handled what amounted to nuisance calls from workers who didn’t quite have the level of emergency they thought they had—or sometimes handled real emergencies that Brazis couldn’t get to fast enough.
“I want to talk, sir,” he said to the empty air, conscious as never before that there might be physical eavesdroppers or lip-readers around him, picking up his side of any conversation. “This is Procyon.” He walked quickly for the lift, and then thought that, too, was audio-and video-monitored, particularly if the governor was tracking someone. Computers once set on his trail could track him through every common tap relay in the station. Whether that had any physical connection with tap relays that weren’t supposed to be operating up here, he had no way of knowing. “I’m going to the lift, now. I’m anxious to talk about this. Instructions?”
No answer. Either he wasn’t getting through because there wasn’t a Project relay in this area, or nobody in Brazis’s office wanted to talk to him here. He caught the lift down to more general territory, changed to a common public lift where he knew for a certainty there would be secure relays and little likelihood of spybots.
But he didn’t make a second try at Brazis’s office until he was safely down in the thick foot traffic at Seventh and Main, on his own level, where Outsiders alone maintained everything that needed maintaining, and where any Earther attempt to bug the place would meet quick detection and entail nasty repercussions.
Then he didn’t have to try to reach Brazis. Brazis found him.
“Procyon.”
“Sir.”
“Good job up there.”
“Thank you, sir.” His heart pounded.
“What he requested you, do. This constitutes your confirmation. I did hear the conversation—mechanically speaking.”
“Yes, sir.” Considering there was still a danger of lip-readers or listeners, he just listened to the tap, which no one without a tap from the same source could get into.
“This isn’t a situation you asked for by word or behavior. It’s political, and I’m relatively sure it’s Earth pressing for some advantage, and using any anomaly they can find to justify whatever they’re after. It’s far from certain you’re in any sense the real center of this inquiry. You’re going to have to use all your wits on this one.”
“Yes, sir.” God. How had he gotten involved in this? Why him? And he desperately wanted a briefing on the downworld situation. “Quick question, though, sir. I’m not going to relax this evening. Would it remotely be possible for me and Drusus to switch shifts? Or at least let me have the current transcript. I don’t want to raise questions with Marak that I can’t—”
“Use your wits, I say, or a missed session could be the least of your worries. Concentrate on the business at hand. I applaud your devotion to duty, but Ian knows exactly where Marak is. The new relay’s working. We’re in reliable touch with him and with his camp. Ian says the camp is geologically sound despite the shaking. Drusus has explained your absence to Marak. You’re covered down there. Concentrate absolutely on what you have to do in this interview. If you make a mistake of any kind with this man, let me make it clear to you, you’ll hear from the High Council, the Chairman General, and from me, personally. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, sir.” Soberly. Heart pounding harder. “I do. I’m frankly scared.”
“Understandable. Are you at all flattered this Mr. Gide came here asking for you?”
“No, sir. I’d rather he hadn’t. I’ve thought and thought. I can’t imagine a reason.”
“Don’t be overawed by his attention. The man is a diplomat. He may be exceedingly gracious. Don’t go off your guard. I’m sure he can threaten. Don’t be spooked.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I wouldn’t send you into this if I didn’t have confidence in you. You want to know why I agreed to this.”
“I do wonder that, sir.”
“Consider. He’s here at extravagant difficulty, making an extravagantly provocative request, which he knows I could say no to, absolutely. Probably I should refuse him, and I think Reaux expected me to. But he failed to get an issue on that. And we know one thing: we’re not talking about a fool arriving here on a personal whim. This will be a very clever man with an agenda we don’t know. He comes with Earth-based credentials, not just Inner Worlds, intruding into Project business, which means he and whatever he represents have stuck his neck way, way out. Earth has very many institutions. We don’t know which one this Gide actually represents, and we may never know. But if there’s a clue to be had as to which faction is sticking its nose into our affairs, I want to know it. It could be someone looking for an issue to raise back at Earth, to reinforce their politics. It could be a legitimate anxious inquiry into your background, which we both admit has a shadow on it.”
“Yes, sir.” He was beginning to have fears that ran under doors he couldn’t possibly open.
“Expect state-of-the-art truthers, which I can guarantee were running all the time you were talking to Reaux. Are you in fact up to this, or do you need to have an attack of something contagious?”
“I’ll do my best, sir.” I don’t knowdidn’t get you points in the Project. I can’tmight lose them.
“Observe, don’t interpret, just as you do on the job. You don’t want to know too much about this. Deeper knowledge could very easily bar you from places you want to go in your life. Let me play politics. That’s my job. Yours is to go on being innocent, and in that innocence, to protect the Project from an inquiry Earth isn’t allowed to make. A further piece of information. You’ll continue to be shut off Marak’s tap for the duration, for security reasons, not because we don’t trust your integrity, but because we don’t want them probing it.”
He was appalled. “Can they possibly dothat?”
“The signal’s within the electromagnetic spectrum, and they can certainly try it. If it happens, don’t cooperate and get out of there fast. You know the rules. I don’t want to frighten you further, but if they physically grab you, don’t cooperate, and leave if you can, with whatever force you need. If worse comes to worst, trust absolutely that we’ll get you out. I’ll contact Marak if I have to. It’s one reason I dare send you in there. I have no doubt we’ll get you back safely. Just don’t make me have to do that.”