The Peyti Crisis: A Retrieval Artist Novel: Book Five of the Anniversary Day Saga (Retrieval Artist series 12) (44 page)

Which made Imme systems difficult to hack for groups used to the standard Alliance protocols.

Flint was torn between thinking whoever had designed the security protocols in this part of the Alliance had been utterly brilliant to cursing that person’s name. It would take him hours, maybe days, to break into the system, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to do it invisibly, like he did with all the other systems in the Alliance.

His pacing reflected his agitation. He couldn’t just sit still and work. He needed to move just to keep his brain working.

He needed to go to the Security Office. Maybe DeRicci had access to some anti-hacking information that Alliance Security Officials used.

Flint often used anti-hacking documents as a guide for how to hack a particular system. The people who developed anti-hacking information often revealed too much, and told anyone with a slightly criminal brain exactly where the system’s vulnerabilities were.

He was about to return to his main network when he froze in his tracks. His subconscious asked a question so unrelated to the work he was doing he almost felt like another person was in the room.

How do the Peyti pay for law school?

He let out a half-laugh of surprise. His brain had clearly been working on that for some time, and he had calmed down just enough to let that information rise to the surface.

It wasn’t just about how the Peyti paid for law school, but how they educated their kids at all.

Unlike the clones of PierLuigi Frémont, each of the Peyti clones had long histories and established lives. They had records, that dated back to law school if not further.

And somewhere, someone had paid money to get those young Peyti into schools that weren’t controlled by the Masterminds. Because law firms only hired lawyers from accredited law schools.

Flint couldn’t believe that the Masterminds ran all the accredited law schools in the Alliance.

Follow the trail.

If he found the same source of funds—or similar sources—for the Peyti clones’ education, then he would have a way to investigate the pool of money they were dipping into.

He grinned like a crazy man. His heart was pounding as if he had run several miles.

Sometimes his brain worked like a cluster of Imme feathers. He had no idea what tiny data packet had touched another tiny data packet.

He just knew he was glad the connection had been made.

Because it felt like a major breakthrough.

Only time would tell if it truly was.

FIFTY-ONE

NYQUIST LEFT DERICCI’S office. She wanted to speak to Jin Rastigan alone. He closed the door gently, feeling tired but not quite as dirty as he had felt earlier. Despite his concerns for her, just seeing DeRicci lightened his mood.

Popova sat at her desk, but she wasn’t alone. Flint’s daughter Talia sat beside her. The girl looked different somehow. She had always been a bit exotic, with her curly blondish-red hair, her pretty copper colored skin, and Flint’s startling blue eyes. Every time Nyquist saw her, he thought she would be a beauty when she grew up.

Her appearance was still startling, but not because she was a nascent beauty. She looked ragged and lost. What had happened to her in the last few weeks?

He threw a questioning glance to Popova, who shook her head ever so slightly.

He wasn’t quite sure what she was warning him off: was he not supposed to say hello? Or was he supposed to keep quiet about Talia’s appearance?

He could send Popova a message on his links, but that felt weird. Instead, he said, “Hello, Talia.”

She looked up as if she hadn’t seen him at all. “Oh. Detective. Hi.”

“She’s waiting for her dad,” Popova said quickly. Apparently, Nyquist wasn’t supposed to ask Talia about Flint.

Nyquist wasn’t even sure if he should sit down now. And then his stomach growled. Apparently, he had relaxed enough to want food.

“Is it possible to order in these days?” he asked Popova.

“There are a few places whose food doesn’t end up looking like it has been crushed by rocks when it arrives,” she said. “You want me to order?”

“I want you to order food every few hours,” he said, “as long as Noelle’s here. She’s not sleeping, so she needs to eat.”

“She’s not sleeping?” Talia asked. The question sounded important.

Popova’s gaze met Nyquist’s, but he couldn’t read it.

“She’s working her butt off,” he said.

Talia looked down, and nodded.

He decided to venture one more piece of information. “But the stress is taking a toll on all of us.”

“We’re never going to solve this, are we?” Talia asked. “We’re just going to get attacked forever.”

He didn’t know how to answer that. At his bleakest, he felt that way.

“We’re making progress,” he said. He had a confidence in his voice he didn’t quite feel. Or maybe he did. For all of his disgust, his talk with Uzvaan showed that the clones had answers, and at least one of them was willing to talk.

Several others might be as well.

Talia shook her head.

“I’m sending you a menu,” Popova said to her. “I want you to choose something from it.”

“I’m not hungry,” Talia said.

“And still, you’re choosing,” Popova said.

At that moment, Flint came down the hall. He was grinning. Nyquist’s heart rose. Why would Miles Flint, one of the most serious people Nyquist had ever known, grin?

“Nyquist! You’re here,” Flint said as if they were long lost friends and Flint hadn’t seen him for years. “Excellent.”

Nyquist exchanged yet another confused glance with Popova.

“I don’t have to brief everyone, then.” Flint looked at the door. “Is Noelle available?”

“She’s talking to someone,” Popova said, “but I think she’s almost done.”

“What’s happening?” Talia asked. She sounded frightened. Nyquist wasn’t certain why Flint’s good mood would frighten her.

“I think I finally figured out how to wrap my arms around this thing,” Flint said.

“What?” Talia asked. She didn’t seem to understand. Nyquist had always thought of her as smarter than the average kid, but she seemed dulled somehow.

He wasn’t sure why, and Flint didn’t even seem to notice, so maybe Talia’s behavior wasn’t unusual.

“Which thing?” Popova asked.

“Let’s wait for Noelle,” Flint said.

At that moment, DeRicci’s office door opened.

“Did you really just send me a menu?” she asked Popova. “If you were going to order something, you could have…”

Her voice trailed off when she saw Flint.

“Miles,” she said, noticing that something was different about him, but she clearly couldn’t tell what. “Picking up Talia?”

“Actually, I came to see you,” Flint said. “But I can talk to all of you. Let’s go in the office.”

As if it were his own. Not even Nyquist spoke to DeRicci like that. But she didn’t seem to mind. She held the door open.

“Should I order food?” Popova asked Nyquist softly.

“Hold off for a few minutes,” he said.

“Me too?” Talia asked her father.

He hesitated for just a minute, as if he were weighing the answer.

“Not this time,” DeRicci said. “I have some classified things I need to discuss.”

“Order the food after all,” Nyquist said softly to Popova.

“Already done,” Popova said, as she stood. Then she turned to Talia. “I just ordered food for all of us, and put it on our account. When the delivery arrives, let us know.”

Talia nodded. She looked heartbroken.

Flint put a hand on her shoulder, then kissed the top of her head. “I’ll tell you what I can,” he said softly.

She nodded again, eyes downcast.

Nyquist turned away from her and walked into DeRicci’s office. It felt a lot more comfortable in here, despite the clutter and the obvious lack of attention DeRicci had paid to anything this last week.

“What’s with Talia?” Nyquist asked DeRicci.

“I have no idea,” DeRicci said in a tone that implied she hadn’t noticed and she didn’t care.

Popova came in next, followed by Flint, who said something Nyquist couldn’t hear to Talia. Then Flint closed the door.

He looked almost giddy.

“You have something,” DeRicci said.

Flint opened his hands, then folded them together. “Give me a chance on this, because it doesn’t sound like much, but I think it’s everything.”

He hadn’t even come all the way into the office. Everyone crowded around him. Nyquist leaned against a desk stacked with empty food containers, some of which he had brought. Apparently no cleaning bot had come into this office for a while. Good thing the containers scrubbed themselves clean after the food became inedible, or this place would reek.

“Deshin kept telling me we had to follow the money,” Flint said, “but I didn’t even know where to start. That was my biggest hurdle. Deshin himself was tracking the DNA—”

“You’ve mentioned this,” DeRicci said. She clearly wanted him to get to the point.

Nyquist could feel how tense she was, how she believed that each moment wasted was another moment that could lead to an attack.

“I did mention it,” Flint said, “but I didn’t tell you he found a name.”

“A name?” DeRicci asked.

Flint nodded. “A woman who works in a classified area of the Earth Alliance. She had access to Frémont’s DNA decades ago. But I can’t find much about her.”

“I might be able to find out about classified information,” DeRicci said.

“I know,” Flint said with a curtness that surprised Nyquist. Flint clearly didn’t want DeRicci involved. “Not yet. If she is connected to the attacks, she’ll be watching for someone in authority on the Moon to track her.”

“That’s not the breakthrough?” Nyquist asked. Because it sounded like a breakthrough to Nyquist. But he wasn’t in on all the planning, and he could tell that DeRicci wanted everything to move quickly.

“No,” Flint said. “I was researching this woman, doing what I could, when I realized that we already had an entry point for the money. I don’t think I would have figured it out without thinking about this woman’s history—”

“
Miles
,” DeRicci said, her irritation evident. “I don’t care how you got there. I want to know what you found.”

“I haven’t found anything yet,” he said.

DeRicci rocked back as if he had slapped her. He didn’t seem to notice her reaction.

“But I know we will,” he said, giving her a sideways glance. Then he raised his eyebrows just a bit, as if telling her to calm down.

Now, Nyquist was feeling impatient. He was about to second DeRicci’s request for more information when Popova asked,

“If we can find the money, we can find the attackers?”

“That’s the theory,” Flint said. “The answer isn’t on the human side. It’s on the Peyti side. In fact, knowing who these clones are—the fact that they failed—gave us a gift. For the most part, they’re lawyers.”

“Yes,” Nyquist said. “That’s such a fun—”

“And they went to law school,” Flint said.

“Yes, but—”

“They went to
Alliance
law schools,” Flint said. “I don’t know about Peyti schools, but Alliance schools cost a small fortune. I know; I’ve been investigating for Talia.”

Nyquist took a breath. He was already five steps ahead of Flint. Law school, payments, tracking, applications—there was a wealth of information on these clones that was just out there. Even if there were lies on every single application, the lies would probably match.

“My God,” DeRicci said. She’d obviously made the same connections. “We can find them.”

“You’re sure?” Popova asked. She was the only untrained investigator in the group.

“I’m positive,” Flint said.

“I’m even more positive,” DeRicci said. “Because we found a clone who is willing to talk.”

“Even with S-Three?” Flint asked.

Nyquist nodded. “Palmette’s lawyer. You remember Uzvaan.”

“I do.” Then Flint shook his head. “I never will understand how someone like him could do something like that. Was it some kind of triggered response?”

“We don’t think so,” DeRicci said before Nyquist could say anything. “He—”

“He told me that he felt like he had two lives. The one he wanted, which he was living, and the one that he had been given, which he had to pay for,” Nyquist said. “He also said he knew they would end on the same day. Of course, they didn’t, so now he’s questioning everything.”

“I’m just amazed that he didn’t question it before.” Flint ran a hand over his face. “And you can talk to him?”

“We’re just not sure for how long. When S-Three finds out what we’re doing, and they will, they’ll figure out how to shut us down.” DeRicci sounded disgusted.

“It’s an opportunity,” Nyquist said, “and it’s one I’ll be taking advantage of tomorrow.”