Tekla just waited. Soon the temptation to boast would get the better of them. Her training in tradecraft—in how to be a spy—had not been all that extensive. A few basic courses, some assigned reading. The reason was simple: She was too conspicuous to be useful as a spy. Too similar to the Hollywood profile. Real spies went unnoticed. So they had kicked her out of the program and put her to work in roles, such as being an Olympic athlete, where her conspicuousness was an asset. But she had picked up a few general precepts. And she knew that this one thing—the urge to boast of one’s accomplishments—had betrayed more secrets and destroyed more careers than anything else.
She looked at Grindstaff. Unlike most people, who soon broke eye contact, he looked right back at her, grinning.
“Unusual,” Tekla said, “for one of your background.”
“Sources and methods,” he said.
“Then I will confine my remarks to what I came here for,” Tekla said. This produced an immediate exchange of glances between Julia and Spencer. Tekla ignored it. “For security reasons it is imperative that we have accurate census of which person is in which arklet. Some people like to move around. To trade places. We understand. Fine. But safety and security problems are created when, for example, arklet is struck by bolide, air is leaking, we do not know how many people are in it, their medical requirements, et cetera. Small person needs less air than big person.”
Julia was nodding. “I take your point very clearly, Tekla. Speaking for the Arkie Community, I can confirm that a more informal mind-set prevails out here on the outskirts. The perception of neglect by the powers that be on Izzy leads to a bit of a chip-on-the-shoulder attitude. Reshuffling of people between arklets seems like a harmless form of rebellion. But it’s easy to overlook the safety issue that you are pointing out. Which is a mistake. I will say that the confusion as to the real threat level we are under, as long as we—”
“As long as we confine ourselves to dirty space,” Ravi Kumar threw in.
“Yes, thank you, Ravi. It just seems that one day we hear one thing, the next day we hear another.”
“Statistics,” Tekla said.
“Yes, that is what we are told again and again, but—”
“I can say no more,” Tekla offered, and flicked her eyes at one of the small cameras mounted to the hull of the arklet.
Julia held her gaze this time, and, after a few moments, threw a glance Spencer’s way. “Tekla, a minute ago we were dancing around the topic of the Situational Awareness Network and Spencer was being a bit lighthearted—his sense of humor at work. But I feel comfortable telling you that, thanks to Spencer, we do have a way to disconnect from the SAN when we want to just have a normal conversation without wondering who might be listening in. And we have done so now. Anything you say here and now will not leave this arklet.”
Tekla favored the circle of hangers-on and admirers with a long, slow panoramic look, then actually rolled her eyes.
“Everyone out!” Julia commanded. “You too, Spencer. Just Tekla and me.”
“Your tradecraft is of low quality,” Tekla said, when all the others had dispersed through the hamster tubes to the other arklets in Julia’s heptad.
“I know,” Julia said. “It is so difficult rebuilding an intelligence community from scratch. One must make do with the materials at hand. Their youth, their inexperience, and the openness they’ve come to expect from living their whole lives on the Internet—all are inimical to doing things as they ought to be done. That is why we need more experienced hands—people who have learned the right instincts.”
“It is not just that,” Tekla said. “That is obvious.”
“Oh?” Julia narrowed her eyes. “What have I missed that is not so obvious?”
“You should not trust Zeke Petersen with further information,” Tekla said. “Unless you wish to plant false intelligence, in which case he will be an effective channel.”
Ivy and Zeke and Tekla had discussed it beforehand, and Zeke had cheerfully volunteered to be given up by Tekla as a supposed turncoat. It made little difference to him personally. And it would go a long way to cementing the idea, in Julia’s mind, of Tekla as a master double agent. By Cold War standards it was an obvious and amateurish gambit, but this was not the Cold War. This was a small town of fifteen hundred people with a former mayor who was trying to stir up trouble.
Julia narrowed her eyes and nodded slowly. She was fascinated. “I had wondered about him,” she said. “He seemed like he was just playing along. Just being polite.”
“Not a problem with Tekla,” Tekla said.
Julia liked that. She had drifted closer, and now reached out to touch Tekla’s forearm briefly. “I like that about you, Tekla. What I see is what I get.”
“Yes.” Then, after a somewhat uneasy silence, Tekla added, “You play long game. Patient.”
“To a degree,” Julia said, and suddenly her face and attitude had changed, as if her face had been recast in painted steel. “We cannot afford to be patient for very long. Markus’s death has changed everything. Until that tragic event, the members of the Arkie Community could look forward to the return of the great leader. Ivy was a mere caretaker. Her shortcomings could be overlooked. Now, awareness is spreading through the swarm that Markus is not coming back. Ivy is back in power. Sal will quote from obscure clauses in the Constitution to legitimize her status. But true legitimacy comes from the support of the governed. She’ll be moving now to solidify her hold on the reins. It’s at such a time that small, symbolic gestures can have the greatest effect. And that, Tekla, is why the next few days are such a critical time for us. Perhaps Ymir will pull through, perhaps not. We can’t afford to wait. Preparations are afoot. Three days from now, arklets will begin to break free of the Cloud Ark and begin their epic trek to high orbit. The powers that be might fear to implement the Pure Swarm strategy, for the loss of control it will mean for them. But the Arkie Community, tired of huddling behind an ineffective shield, slowly being decimated by the Hard Rain, knows no such limitations.”
“Survival of the breakaway group will demonstrate the falsity of the GPop’s predictions of danger,” Tekla said, nodding. “The power of the center will be broken.”
“For the first time, the Cloud Ark Constitution will truly come into effect,” Julia said, “notwithstanding the sophistry of the apologist Sal Guodian. That Constitution, Tekla, as I’m sure you know, calls for the formation of a security force. Not the Praetorian Guard that Markus cobbled together, but something real. I can think of no one better qualified than you to command it.”
“HOOK, LINE, AND SINKER,” SAID SPENCER GRINDSTAFF AS HE AND Julia watched Tekla’s Flivver depart with a staccato series of thruster burns.
“Oh, she definitely bought it,” Julia admitted, “but I don’t like the note of triumphalism in your voice, Spencer. What we have really learned is that Ivy is a formidable opponent. Somehow she has managed to get people like Tekla on her side. And they have come up with a fairly elaborate strategy for penetrating our organization.”
Grindstaff shrugged. “As these things go, it’s not that elaborate. Kind of obvious, really.”
“Easy to say,” Julia said, “given that you have a bug hidden in the Banana, and we knew everything they were going to do. But lacking that information, Spencer, do you really think we’d have seen through it? I thought Tekla did a marvelous job.”
“You need to look out for her. She really hates you. And she’s carrying at least one weapon.”
“Thanks to Pete Starling,” Julia said, “so am I.” She reached into her bag and drew out a small revolver, just far enough that Spencer could see the butt of its grip, then slid it back in.