The Gap into Madness: Chaos and Order (30 page)

“
Free
Lunch
, “ Hashi said quickly. “Captain Darrin Scroyle. If Captain Scroyle
told the estimable director of Enforcement Division that he was in the employ
of the United Mining Companies, either in the person of Cleatus Fane or through
some other agency, he was” — Hashi made a palpable effort to restrain his
instinct for rhetorical camouflage — “lying to protect his dealings with me.”

Warden
scowled; but in other ways he kept his reactions to himself.

“Captain
Scroyle is a mercenary,” Hashi explained. “I employ such individuals as
occasion warrants. And I demand security for my operations. In addition, much
of Captain Scroyle’s value to me rests on his ability to pass as illegal. For
these reasons, he misled Director Donner.

“On
this occasion I had employed him several weeks ago to visit Thanatos Minor as
my surrogate — what you might call a mobile listening post. I am not a
complacent man, Warden. I trust the work I have done with Joshua, and I stand
by it, but I do not care to rely on it exclusively. Therefore I employed
Captain Scroyle to do exactly what he has done — to provide an early report on
the outcome of Joshua’s mission.

“Have I
acted unwisely?” he concluded. “Has Captain Scroyle’s information not already
shown its value?”

Warden
dismissed the value of Captain Scroyle’s information with a snort. “That’s not
the real question, and you know it.” In fact that information was priceless.
Yet it wasn’t as critical as his ability to trust the DA director. “The
question is why you didn’t tell me all this. I’m the goddamn
director
of
the UMCP. What made you think you should lie to
me?

“You
are in charge of Data
Acquisition.
It’s your
job
to give me
facts, not bullshit.”

Hashi
Lebwohl was the only man Warden knew who could prevaricate without showing it. A
calm face and confident manner were easy; so were any number of disguises and
distortions. But to inhibit the body’s autonomic response to stress was
normally impossible. And the specific anxiety of falsehood had an IR signature
which Warden had learned to recognise — in every case except Hashi’s. By this
more than any other evidence, he knew that Hashi made no essential distinction
between truth and lies. He showed no stress because he felt none.

He felt
it now, however. His aura squirmed with it; his pulse laboured under its
weight. Warden’s demand touched a vulnerability in him which may have had
nothing to do with truth or falsehood.

Shrugging
uncomfortably, he replied, “I knew that you would be required to share any
information you received with CEO Fasner, and I did not wish to compromise
Captain Scroyle by making his usefulness known to men I distrust. In addition,
I believed that your position with CEO Fasner would be stronger if he were
denied knowledge of all the resources at my command — therefore at your
disposal. On the other hand, it would be plainly fatal if you withheld
information from your superior and were detected doing so. I chose to spare you
that hazard.”

More
bullshit, Warden thought. He could hear it as well as see it; he could practically
smell it. On impulse, however, he decided not to challenge it. He wanted to see
how deep Hashi’s dishonesty ran.

Glowering
his impatience, he rasped, “That’s not good enough. How am I supposed to trust
you now? How much do you think I can afford to tell you?”

Hashi
didn’t need to study the question. He had an answer ready. “Our positions are
dissimilar. You must report to the GCES, as well as to CEO Fasner. I report
only to you. Neither great worms nor councils of indecision have power over me.
Anything which you withhold from me can only damage my effectiveness.” Almost
pleading, he said softly, “I cannot do my
job,
Warden, if facts are kept
from me.”

Warden
restrained an impulse to pound the desk again. He’d mastered his anger: it was
cold and hard, and he used it to focus his scrutiny of the DA director. While
all his hopes unravelled, and his chronometer ticked away the lives of the
people he needed most, he concentrated on surprising, coercing, or perhaps
earning one critical piece of accuracy from Hashi Lebwohl.

“All
right. I’ll copy Min’s report to DA. You can study it in your spare time. But I’ll
give you the real highlights.

“
Trumpet
is alive. She came out of forbidden space while Min was arguing with your
Captain Scroyle, flared a transmission to that listening post, and headed on.

“According
to her message, she succeeded. Billingate is gone. That’s the good news. The
bad news is that Jerico priority has been superseded. Milos went over to the
Amnion. That would have been a disaster if it hadn’t been so damn predictable.
So Angus isn’t coming anywhere near here until we position someone to invoke
his new codes.”

Hashi
nodded to himself. His smile was impersonal, but it hinted at a certain
complacency. His work with Joshua was being vindicated.

“He has
quite a passenger list,” Warden went on. “If
Trumpet
were any smaller,
they would be sleeping in the drive spaces.” He spoke in a drawl like a sneer,
preparing the blow he meant to strike at Hashi — the first of several, if he
needed them. “Nick is there. He brought four of his people with him — Mikka
Vasaczk. Ciro Vasaczk, Sib Mackern, and — by some truly monumental coincidence
— Vector Shaheed, whose name I’m sure you’ll recognise.”

“How
could I forget it?” Hashi radiated confidence and falseness. “I lament for him
whenever I go to my rest, although only my pillow hears me. To take his work
from him before he could complete it was necessary, but unfortunate — grievous
to a man of his abilities. Under better circumstances he would have been
nurtured for his achievements rather than discarded.”

The DA
director was stalling, Warden observed; filling the air with words to cover him
while his mind raced to examine the implications of Shaheed’s presence aboard
Trumpet
.

Warden
didn’t give Hashi time to think. After only a short pause, he announced
harshly, “In addition there’s Morn Hyland.”

“Aboard
Trumpet
?” Hashi croaked. “Aboard
Trumpet
?”

Warden
nodded. “With Nick and Angus.”

The
information didn’t stagger Hashi. He sat down reflexively, as if his legs had
been cut out from under him; yet his IR aura betrayed no shock. Instead it
flared like an eager sun; sent out crackling flares of excitement and
apprehension.

“So it
is true,” he breathed. “I considered the eventuality that she might survive. I
believed it — yet I feared to believe it. Why is it not impossible?”

Brutally
dishonest, driven by shame, Warden demanded, “Do you still stand by the work
you did with Joshua?”

Aren’t
you to blame for this?

Of
course he wasn’t. Warden had done it himself: he had no one else to accuse. But
Hashi didn’t know that. And Warden intended to hit him as hard as necessary to
learn the truth.

Hashi
seemed not to have heard him, however; not to have felt the veiled accusation.
His aura surged with emissions which would have indicated terror in anyone
else, but which in him appeared to imply exultation.

“Director,”
he murmured softly, “there is treason here. Treachery and betrayal. Nick
Succorso is —”

But
then he stopped himself. “No, I will not judge this rashly.” The smears on his
lenses refracted his blue gaze into streaks of hope and apprehension. “Joshua’s
mission has become a great and terrible thing. To master it, we must also be
great and terrible.”

Hashi’s
concentration had turned entirely inward. Trying to drag it outward — break
past Hashi’s defences — Warden rasped through his teeth, “There’s one other
highlight you should know about. Apparently she has a son.”

Hashi
didn’t react. He might not have heard Warden.

“She
calls him Davies Hyland. Nick’s kid — or Angus’.” The thought twisted Warden’s
heart. “It turns out the reason — the only reason we have so far — they went to
Enablement was so she could have this boy force-grown. Do you know anything
about that? Do you know how the Amnion supply minds to kids whose bodies mature
in hours instead of years?”

Whose
mind has Davies got?

Hashi
shook his head. His emissions wrapped around him in coils of self-absorption.

“Director,
I must understand this,” he said from the centre of his private thoughts. “Do
you wish me to credit that Joshua has broken his programming?”

“What
else?” Warden snapped.

Hashi
blinked behind his glasses. At last he shifted his attention to Warden. “Can
you think of no other explanation for Morn Hyland’s unlooked-for survival?” he
countered. “Then why does he still act as we have instructed him, reporting his
own freedom when surely escape is what he desires most?

“In
some sense,” he concluded, “his essential instruction sets hold. He remains
ours.”

“All
right.” Warden conceded the point. “You tell me. Why is she still alive?”

What
treason are you talking about?

Hashi
pulled IR flares and flails into focus.

“Is it
not possible,” he asked, “that her survival represents a bargain of some kind?
Perhaps Joshua encountered situations, dilemmas, complexities on Thanatos Minor
which we did not foresee. Perhaps the presence of Amnion warships — or Milos
Taverner’s treachery — challenged him beyond his limits. Or perhaps Milos saw
fit to adjust one or another of his priorities. Under those conditions, he may
have recognised the need for aid.

“And to
whom would he turn, if not to another of our affiliated operatives — to Nick
Succorso? If Captain Succorso demanded Morn Hyland’s life as the price for his
assistance, Joshua’s programming would not have precluded acceptance.”

“Fine,”
Warden growled. He’d offered the same argument to Holt Fasner. It was false,
and he knew it. “Why in hell would Succorso do such a thing?”

What’s
this treason you’re afraid of? Are you talking about yourself?

Hashi
straightened in his seat. As if he didn’t notice what he was doing, his hands
made incongruous, tentative attempts to smooth his rumpled lab coat. For a
moment he seemed unwilling to meet Warden’s gaze. Then he faced Warden
squarely.

“Director,
what I must tell you will anger you.” A wheeze of pressure made his voice raw. “Yet
I believe I have acted with almost prescient wisdom.”

Warden
folded his arms over his chest; waited grimly, hoping that he would hear the
truth.

“You
are angry,” Hashi began, “because I have not been wholly open with you. In
terms our redoubtable Governing Council would employ, I have not practised ‘full
disclosure’. For that you will censure or value me, as you deem fit.

“But I
must say plainly,” he added with a defensive buzz, “that I do not consider ‘full
disclosure’ germane to my duties. I have never failed to reveal my acquired
data when it was needed. And it is clear that disclosure is necessary now.”

He
adjusted his glasses to confuse or clarify what Warden saw.

“Captain
Scroyle’s report is not the only transmission I have received concerning events
on or around Thanatos Minor. There has also been a flare from Captain Succorso.
The implications of his message explain my reluctance to reveal my data fully,
as well as the actions I have taken in response.”

There
is treason here. Treachery and betrayal. Nick Succorso is —

Warden
bit down on the back of his tongue to contain his impatience. What treason?
What
actions?

“I will
quote Captain Succorso exactly.” The strain in Hashi’s tone made him sound
unusually formal. “He said, ‘If you can get her, you bastard, you can have her.
I don’t care what happens to you. You need me, but you blew it. You deserve
her. Kazes are such fun, don’t you think?’”

Startled
out of his self-control, Warden echoed involuntarily, “‘Kazes are such fun.’ He
said
that?
”

Hashi
nodded. He may have been gratified by Warden’s surprise. “You see the
difficulties. Superficially he appears to possess an implausible knowledge of
our recent adventures. And his taunting references to ‘she’ and ‘her’ are
obscure.

“I
considered it my job, Director Dios, to draw conclusions from Captain Succorso’s
transmission — and from Captain Scroyle’s. To account for the plain threat in
Captain Succorso’s words, as well as to explain the suggestive details of
Captain Scroyle’s report, I have constructed a scenario which appalls me.”

He didn’t
look appalled. The smeared gleam of his eyes suggested pride.

Kazes
are such fun.
Fun?

“One
more item of background,” Hashi continued pedantically, “and then I will
proceed. As you know, Captain Scroyle makes mention of
Soar
, a vessel
captained by a certain Sorus Chatelaine. Data Processing has presented me with
the hypothesis that
Soar
is a retrofitted avatar of a former illegal by
the name of
Gutbuster
. Perhaps coincidentally — and perhaps not —
Gutbuster
was responsible for the death of Morn Hyland’s mother. And
Gutbuster
also killed the original
Captain’s Fancy
, leaving only the boy Nick
Succorso aboard alive.”