“How did this come to light? It’s been months…”
She shrugged, turning her hands up. “The Keshmarans aren’t saying, except that they have documentary records, and the incontrovertible evidence that it was orchestrated by the first secretary of the Revenant embassy here. It happened practically overnight.”
“Overnight?”
“The Keshmar First party is demanding the confiscation of all Revenant assets.”
“That seems…”
“That’s because they’re a religious party, offshoots of the original Mahmetists, the ones who didn’t become Revenants. They feel the Revenants lost the Word of God and are totally depraved.”
“Don’t all true believers feel that way about those who don’t embrace their view?”
“Most of them,” Gregory admitted. “Now…what are you doing? And why are you here?”
Van ignored the abrupt change of subject, understanding that she had said all she wanted to. “I’ve landed a piloting position with an Eco-Tech outfit, and I’m effectively in training until my ship is ready.”
“An Eco-Tech multilateral?” Gregory’s eyebrows rose.
“I interviewed with all the Republic multis, and they all said I was either overqualified or too senior. I don’t know much beyond piloting, as you know. I was offered this job, and I took it.” Van smiled.
“Good for you!” Gregory actually sounded pleased for him. “How do you like it so far?”
“It’s very different. The outfit is a combination of high-end information and analysis, organizational consulting, high-priced delivery service, and specialized troubleshooting.” Van felt the description wasn’t shading the truth too much, at least as he saw IIS. “So far, I haven’t seen the troubleshooting part, and I’m learning about the others.”
“What sort of information analysis?”
“They have planetary offices on something like a hundred planets, and they collect all sorts of data, then analyze it for trends and seek out clients or serve existing clients. As a pilot, I’m supposed to be more in the line of delivering the results. They’re too complex for cost-effective standing wave transmission, not to mention too proprietary.”
“The clients are mostly multis?”
“They also have some governments, smaller systems, as clients.”
“They have an office here?” She shook her head. “They must, or you wouldn’t be here.”
“They do, and I met one of the clients yesterday. It’s proving a different kind of education.” That was certainly true enough.
She smiled. “Is it so hush-hush that you can’t tell me?”
“IIS—Integrated Information Systems.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve heard of them. Very sophisticated and old operation. Very low profile. Privately held, so that there’s not much of a public record. Has a good reputation for serving its clients.”
“That’s the impression I’ve been getting, but I’ve only been on board for a few weeks.”
“You didn’t take much time for retirement.”
“I had plenty of time to think during rehab. Also, this was one of those opportunities that I had to take.” Not for the normal reasons, but Van didn’t have to explain why.
“No. I imagine there aren’t that many openings for experienced pilots.”
“There aren’t, but I hadn’t realized that until I started looking.”
“The multis all want two-tour military pilots who are good drivers and little more. You’re doubtless a good driver, but there’s more there.”
“I’d like to think so,” Van admitted.
“There is.” Cordelia Gregory smiled, then stiffened, listening to the netsystem.
Van made an effort with his own implant, seemingly slowly sifting through the protocols, recognizing a certain similarity, then being able to catch the last of the link he was not supposed to be able to receive—and would not have been able to receive even had he codes as the embassy’s current military attaché.
…soon as you can…ambassador was insistent about you briefing him on the economic implications of the Revenant mess…you know, what they’re likely to do. Could they pull out of the multis they’ve invested in here, and what would that do?…
Van tried to keep his face politely blank.
I have someone here…I’ll be there as soon as I can.
No more than five minutes.
I’ll be there, Dr. O’Hara.
Gregory offered a resigned expression to Van.
“Trouble?” Van asked.
“This Revenant thing. Now the ambassador wants an economic briefing.”
“Economics? You mean…if the Revevants could pull out economically? I wouldn’t think they provide any financial aid, do they? Keshmara seems independent that way.”
“The Revenants have the third largest financial institution here—the Bank of Orum. If they closed it…”
“But that would hurt them as much as anyone.”
“You don’t think they’d take a loss to hurt someone else worse?” asked Gregory. “When it turns out that they apparently didn’t have any problems shooting you and a bunch of other innocents?” She rose. “I’m sorry, but the first secretary was very insistent.”
Van was glad she finally viewed him, if not totally accurately, as an innocent. He stood as well. “It does seem that the Revenants don’t care too much for those that don’t embrace their view of the Galaxy.” He smiled, ruefully and self-deprecatingly. “But then, I’ve always had to struggle with that problem.”
She returned the smile as she opened the door. “You and most civilized people realize they have that problem. We struggle with it. They don’t even recognize it.” With a last smile, she said, “It was wonderful to see you, but I must go. Will you be around long enough to have a lunch or something?”
Van shook his head. “We leave tomorrow, and I have to get back to the ship.”
“Do stop the next time you’re here.”
Van nodded. As he hurried down the ramp, with Cordelia Gregory watching, he wondered what had happened to make her so much more friendly. Or was it that he had not been so defensive? Or both? Or had she learned something about the Revs that he should know?
