Fire With Fire

“I beg your pardon?”

“What’s with the promotions?”

“I think I just explained that. The more rank you have-”

“That’s not what I mean. There are two times you get promotions in the field; right after the shit has hit the fan and empty saddles need to be refilled, or right before you expect the nastiness to hit the spinning blades. And since we don’t seem to be in foxholes already-”

Downing nodded slowly. “I see your point. And yes, I suspect things are going to go pear-shaped sooner rather than later. But not in the way you mean, Major. I only know this: the more rank you have, the more orders you can give, and the easier it is to requisition, commandeer, or just plain nick what you need. And that could become very important in the coming months.”

Opal shrugged. “So-I’m a major. New pay grade.” She laughed. “My salary has just jumped from nothing to next-to-nothing. What will I spend it all on?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something. Here.”

Downing pushed another black box toward her, along with a rather well-stuffed envelope. “The contents of the box, you know. The envelope is current-plus back-pay.”

Opal opened the envelope, removed its contents: various bills of various colors. “What the hell is this? Monopoly money?”

“Universal Economic Credits. Thirty-two thousand, one hundred ten of them, to be exact.”

“Great. What the hell are they?”

Trevor leaned towards her, still grinning. “Don’t worry: they’re for real.”

“Okay, so I’ve got a fistful of somethings. Now, why don’t you tell an old-timer like me what I really want to know: what’s it worth in dollars, please?”

“The credit’s value-which is, very roughly, an average of the c-dollar and the euro-is about one-point-one c- dollars. So you have about thirty-five thousand, three hundred dollars.”

Opal looked down. “Well, this funny-money looks a lot more serious now.” She thumbed through it, looked at Downing. “Damn. Is this back pay for the whole fifty years I spent as a popsicle?”

“No.”

“So this is just for the time since you thawed me out?”

“Correct.”

Opal seemed to run the numbers mentally. “Okay, not that I’m eager to be poor again, but that jump in pay grade makes me at least a full bird colonel.”

Downing looked her directly in the eye. “As I’ve already said, you are on special duty. This is special pay.”

Downing frowned when the commplex’s handset started chirping: an external call. He picked it up: his frown transmogrified into an expressionless mask that brought Trevor to his feet. “Yes. I see. Do it quietly. Yes, I want the whole squad. I will be on site in”-he checked his watch-“six minutes. Update me as you learn more.”

Downing was up beside Trevor in a single motion. “There’s been another-incident. Major, you come with me. Trevor, you are acting site CO.”

“What’s happening?”

“Not sure. There was a fire alarm-and some irregularities-in the suite that the Major shares with Mr. Riordan.”

Opal’s voice was so tightly controlled that it conveyed more panic than a scream. “Where’s Caine?”

“No word on that yet. He’s probably fine.”

Opal did not blink. “Or he could be dead.”

Downing moved toward the door. “We should hurry.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

TELEMACHUS

Trevor watched the small gathering in the ecumenical chapel rise and approach the side room in which he was waiting. For them, it’s all about what Nolan Corcoran had said, or what he did, or what he stood for. All that is fine. And all that will be forgotten. But this endures: he was my Dad, and I loved him, and I didn’t say it enough. And now I never can.

Except he couldn’t afford to feel that, not now. Officially, he was here as one of the major mourners: the grieving son. In actuality, he was working: coordinating the activities of his meager security staff while keeping an eye out for the incipient signs of yet another incident. He angled toward Elena, who had emerged from the chapel and quickly became the focus for a spontaneous receiving line. He slipped in behind her, nodded for Rulaine- Downing’s green beanie-to rotate into a position that could cover the area he’d vacated.

Trevor leaned toward Elena’s ear. “How are you holding up?”

Elena was looking intently at the chapel doorway, where Caine was emerging-walking with a limp and his left arm in a softcast and sling. “I’m fine, Trev. I’ve done my own mourning for Dad.”

He followed her eyes; she was looking at Caine, all right. She wasn’t blinking. “You know his story?”

“I’m sorry: who are you talking about?”

“Him. The guy you’re looking at. Riordan.”

“The one who was attacked last night?”

“Yup, that’s him. He was with Dad-at the end-you know.”

“I thought I heard that.”

Trevor leaned back to look at his sister. “El, you must know who he is. He’s the guy from the Parthenon Dialogs. You know-exosapients on Delta Pavonis? That’s him.”

“Yeah-I guess I just wasn’t thinking about that.” She looked away-as if it were a considerable effort-and smiled at her brother.

“Oh? And what were you thinking about, Sis?”

“How people connected to Dad seem to be targeted. Maybe Dad was himself.”

“We’ll find out at the meeting with Richard, right after we wrap up here. Seems they’ve got the final coroner’s report.”

Trevor saw Opal edge into the reception hall behind Caine. I wonder if she’ll see me looking at her-

Elena turned back to him during a short lull in the commiserating handshakes. “You’re staring, Trev.”

“Uh…oh. Yeah.”

“Who is she?”

“Her? Oh, she’s his-” And the words staggered to a stop in his head and his mouth: I haven’t lied to my sister since I was a bratty younger brother. But Richard had been very clear regarding the confidentiality of Opal’s real job.

“His what?” Elena’s head was tilted to one side, the way it did when she was on the scent of a secret-or knew that she was being snowed.

“She’s his friend. And she works for Richard. Security. Seems she and Riordan have a lot in common, though.”

“How so?” Elena’s voice sounded strangely flat.

“They’re both reanimated sleepers. He was down for fourteen years, all told.”

Now her voice sounded careful, as if she were weighing every word. “That must have been very hard on him- losing so much time that way.”

“More than you know. He hardly remembers a thing from the last few days of his old life. Shame. Seems like a nice enough guy.”

“You know him?” She had turned to face him.

“Well, yeah-sort of. I babysat him on a sub for a couple of weeks.” He looked at her. “Didn’t I tell you?”

She was already looking back at Riordan. “No. You didn’t. And what about the girl-I mean, the woman?”

“She was in cold storage for fifty years. What she remembers no longer exists. She’s entirely alone in the