Cormac picked up his juice to take a drink, rather than disagree with her.
Half an hour later the door opened and Dax strode out, straighter and somehow more substantial now. He was smiling, and though he looked tired he did not look so strained.
'That's it,' he said. 'The cancer is cut out.'
Cormac piped up, 'Hasn't the cancer got a right to live too?'
His mother gave him a poisonous look.
City patrol—it was just the kind of job the AIs would give to those whose loyalty was questionable. They were here to help the local police, whose force was nowhere near up to strength and so were struggling to control the persistent organised crime in the city which, according to Agent Spencer, kept money flowing into Separatist coffers. However, their help only consisted of showing a presence on the streets, and providing trained military back-up on the few occasions required, and nothing else.
'You'd think we'd be in the clear by now,' said Yallow, not in the least impressed with this duty. 'If I didn't know he was up for a mind ream I'd do it to him myself with a rusty knife.' She was even less impressed with Carl.
'It's statistics,' said Cormac. 'The AI probably knows we weren't involved in whatever he was up to, but a small element of doubt is enough for it to assign us duties away from the ship.' He added, 'I don't see that guard duty there, even if available, would be any better.'
'Yeah, I guess.'
'In fact we've more chance of some action here.'
Yallow grunted noncommittally. They had been patrolling for six hours and were now heading to the rendezvous with their replacements. The only excitement in that time was seeing a drunk vomiting down a drain before passing out.
Because of their neophyte status their chances were remote of getting any «action» that wasn't strictly controlled. The incident with the Prador inside the ship had been an aberration, apparently not to be repeated until they had gained sufficient experience. This bugged Yallow even more because of the threat of insurgency two hundred miles north, of firefights in the skarch forest up that way, of reconnaissance, of search-and-destroy missions and rumours that illegal arms traders were operating in the area. She wanted to be there, since that was the environment she had trained for, and she wasn't even getting a sniff of it. Here they were patrolling along nearly empty streets, powerless to search any suspicious characters, ordered not to go near known Separatist bars or other gathering places, only to respond when asked for help either by a member of the public or by the local police.
Cormac desperately wanted to tell her about his secret mission, it burned inside him, but he knew that if he opened his mouth his discharge papers would quickly follow, probably shortly after Agent Spencer had tap danced on his face. Maybe he could get Yallow included in any future action if, in fact, he was going to be involved in anything more. The chances seemed slim—Spencer had remained out of contact for some time and Olkennon had answered his queries with 'Just do the job you trained for, and don't even hope to know what happens with those CTDs.'
At the end of the street awaited two grunts little different from themselves. Nothing to report, of course, and as they departed, Yallow's 'Be careful in there,' was greeted with snorts of derision. In a relaxed mood they began the twenty-minute trek back to the military township. The gravcar dropping out of the sky like a brick ahead of them came as something of a surprise.
Recognising the vehicle Cormac said, 'Agent Spencer.'
Olkennon poked her head out of the passenger window. 'Get in. Now.'
Yallow glanced queryingly across at Cormac. He shrugged. What did he know, he was just as much a grunt as she was. Unshouldering their weapons they climbed into the back of the vehicle. Spencer, who was driving, immediately launched the vehicle into the sky while Olkennon peered back at them.
'We're going off-planet very shortly,' she said. 'It's now become too much of a risk for you to remain here.'
Cormac guessed she wasn't referring to Yallow.
'What's happened?' he asked.
Olkennon gazed at Yallow for a moment, then shrugged and returned her attention to Cormac. 'Carl escaped.'
'Fuck,' said Yallow, 'and that's enough reason to move us out?'
The car now abruptly descended and, while she brought it in to land in the middle of the township, Agent Spencer glanced back and spoke to Yallow. 'You'll be apprised of the reasons for your departure after you're aboard the transport.'
'Go and pack up your own and Cormac's kit and head over to the depot—a car will be waiting for you,' Olkennon ordered. 'You have permission to remain armed until you're aboard the transport out of here.'
Yallow gazed at her unit commander, then switched her attention to Cormac. Her look said it all: he would have to update her soon or she would be seriously annoyed. Cormac remembered the bruises from last time she'd been annoyed with him, though he had given as good as he got. She climbed out of the vehicle and headed off to their quarters amidst the composite domes.
'He escaped?' he asked. 'How the hell could he escape?'
Spencer took the car up again, then in a moment brought it down beside the hospital. Olkennon climbed out, but Spencer remained at the controls.
'Out,' she said to Cormac.
He just cleared the car as it launched into the sky again.
'Come on,' said Olkennon.
Finally reaching Carl's room, Olkennon punched in the code as before and led the way through the door. The bed was empty—shellwear discarded on tangled sheets. Cormac did not understand why he had been brought here. Olkennon walked around to the other side of the bed, gesturing Cormac over. As soon as he stepped round beside her she pointed down at an object on the floor.
'Medscan didn't pick this up,' she said. 'It's very sophisticated for a twenty-three-year-old recruit and certainly confirms Carl was more than that.'
Cormac prodded at the flap of rubbery material with the toe of his boot. It looked like a thick piece of skin.
'The body has been removed,' Olkennon added.
'Body?'
'What you are seeing there is what covers my kind, though the newer of my kind. It's Golem syntheflesh, but unlike mine this has imbedded chameleonware.' She stooped and picked up the piece of synthetic flesh and dropped it on the bed. 'A medic came in here to check on him, to make sure the shellwear was still keeping him unconscious. Apparently it was not. We don't know for sure what he had concealed underneath this.' She gestured at the flesh. 'But something transmitted a localized virus that froze all systems connected to his room.'
'You were using a nerve-blocker to keep him unconscious,' suggested Cormac.
'Yes—it knocked that out too.'
'He killed the medic.'
'Broke her neck then took her clothing,' said Olkennon bitterly. 'Then he just disappeared.'
'Why did you bring me here?' Cormac asked.
'Because you have earned the right to know.' Olkennon seemed chagrined for a moment. 'It also seems likely, judging by your recent performance, that you'll be offered the chance to train as an agent, and seeing this sort of thing forms part of your education.'
Cormac nodded, shrugged his pulse-rifle's strap more firmly on his shoulder. He wasn't sure what to make of that. Really, he didn't think he was ready for that kind of advancement.
'Head back and link up with Yallow,' Olkennon instructed. 'Whether you tell her about all this is entirely up to you.'
Cormac turned and headed out, his head buzzing. Carl would probably rejoin the Separatists here and once that happened they would know Cormac was not his partner. From then on he would become a target and a danger to those around him. This was why they were being moved out, and he didn't suppose Yallow would be too pleased
