“Plus, there’s gonna be more people in the ring,” Ashton pointed out. “They’re not gonna send one handler over and not have a whole ring for him to work.”
“Exactly,” Daggert said.
“Count us in,” Carter decreed.
Two days later, they were back in Daggert’s office simulation.
“Pierce is meeting with the fake detective this afternoon,” Mercer told the other three men. “Nick, if you can have a few of your people helping us eyeball this guy, it would be good. Maybe even have some people near the coffeeshop where they’re meeting.”
“Which one is it?” Ashton asked.
“Um, lessee...” Mercer double-checked something in the lower half of his vision. “Oh. It’s that new Baked Bean that just opened up in the Bridge Street Arcade, over in Imperial Park West, near the IUS campus.”
“Right,” Ashton said. “I’ll put Rick Honda on the tail; he’s our best undercover disguise guy.”
“And maybe put Stone and Peabody on the lookout,” Carter suggested. “They’re your most experienced people.”
“Good idea. And I’ll keep an eye on things in my overview app.”
“What?” Mercer wondered, intrigued. “What kind of app are you using?”
“Oh,” Ashton laughed. “It’s a little something I came up with years ago, on one of my first team-lead assignments. I can stand in VR in an overlook depiction of the area, more of a map than a real view, and watch all the actors in the surveillance. I can tag people and follow ‘em around the map, and determine patterns, all kinds of shit like that. It’s been useful over the years, and periodically I think of something else I want it to do, so I add it.”
“I think I wanna see that,” Mercer said with a grin, and Ashton grinned back.
Timothy Pierce was set up with the same little nanite app that Carter had given to Peabody years before, so they could record what he heard and saw; it would also enable them to track him easier. He headed to the Baked Bean near the Imperial University, and spotted his mark.
“There you are,” Detective Gardenia said, as Pierce came over and shook his hand. “Sit, sit, please. I have a pot of coffee coming, and some Danishes.”
“That sounds like a great snack,” Pierce decided. “I didn’t get lunch today; there was a glitch in the air conditioning over in the Imperial Administration building.”
“Ouch,” Gardenia said, as the waitress brought the coffee, two mugs, and a platter of pastries. “There we go. Oh, did you get the AC fixed?”
“Yeah, but I had to miss lunch to do it.” Pierce’s belly growled. “So this looks good.”
“Sorry, Mr. Pierce. I’d take you someplace nice for dinner, but you know how it is. I don’t have expense authorization for that. The IP is incredibly strict on expense reports.”
“That’s all right, Detective. I understand.”
“The reason I wanted to meet with you is to let you know things are coming to a head in my investigation. We think we know what’s going on. The Emperor is being manipulated by mind-control drugs. Very subtle. But it leaves him open to suggestion by those around him. We think we know who his control is, too, but of course I can’t tell you any of that.”
“Wow. That’s pretty insidious.”
“Yes, because everyone just follows the Emperor’s orders, just like regular, right? What they don’t know is those orders are being suggested by someone else. It’s a brilliant plan, and it was very hard to figure out. But I did it, and it looks like I’ll get my Inspector’s badge out of this one.”
“Congratulations, Detective.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pierce. Now, the one last thing I need is to nail down when the drugs are being introduced. You can help me with that. We think they’re being introduced overnight, when the Emperor is in his apartment. We’re not sure exactly when. If we knew that, we would have better evidence of who the underlings are. You know, who’s doing the footwork.”
“How can I help, Detective?”
Gardenia produced a device from his pocket. It was wrapped in at least two layers of heavy plastic, and sealed inside was a box, some two inches by four inches and an inch thick. It had air vents on the top, and a peel-off strip on an adhesive pad on the back for mounting.
“Why is it sealed up like that, Detective?”
“We don’t want it to start detecting now, Mr. Pierce. It would spoil the results. Don’t open the sealed bags until you have the HVAC system open and are ready to place the device in the return plenum. That’s very important. We don’t want to sample any air except that of the Imperial Residence. We have to prove it’s the Emperor that’s the target.”
“I see. Well, that’s simple enough, Detective.”
“You’ll be doing the Empire a great service, Mr. Pierce. We have to get to the bottom of who is doing this. It’s treason, and we must catch them.”
Pierce nodded.
“The weekend will be the easiest, Detective. Friday night after work. That’s the slowest time, always.”
“That will be fine, Mr. Pierce. Probably better, in fact.”
“And can I see your Imperial Police ID again, Detective? Just to be sure.”
“Of course, Mr. Pierce. It’s important to be careful.”
Gardenia withdrew an ID from his pocket and set it on the table; it looked a lot like the circular pin on Imperial Police uniforms, the one that depicted the Throne in a laurel wreath, in bas relief. Beneath it, along the border of the circle, was a scroll with the surname ‘Gardenia’ and a generic IPD designator. Gardenia placed the tip of his index
