‘How do you respond, Li Daiho?’
‘I take full responsibility for the actions of myself and of all my associates in this affair,’ Daiho said simply.
The testimony went on: how the correspondent had thought upon the few clues left by Asaldra as to the nature of the Home Time, and his work. How he had plotted and planned for the next three hundred years; how he had identified BioCarr as a likely target; and how, right on schedule, Hossein Asaldra had appeared to Matthew Carradine and made his proposal.
Morbern’s Code lay in pieces.
The World Executive went around everyone else to take their own memories. From Daiho, the entire plan to rekindle the Home Time at the appropriate time, which had meant enlisting the help of a powerful group of patricians to deal with the nitty gritty. For one thing, the plan would lead to an open-ended disappearance from the present, with no guarantee of returning: so he had procured a clone of himself from Holmberg-Chabani-Scott and instilled his own basic brain pattern in it, so that from a forensic point of view there would be absolutely no doubt that it was the body of Li Daiho lying at the foot of the mountain.
Unavoidably, that made the clone at least semiconscious, certainly self aware… and that made what Daiho had done murder.
Daiho just looked straight ahead, calm and collected, as the story fed itself into each of their minds. Finally, he turned his head again to meet Marje’s gaze and she felt that she was the only one there whose opinion mattered to him.
‘I’ve saved the Home Time,’ he said simply. ‘One life for the sake of our civilization, Marje. Can’t you accept that?’ He held her gaze for a moment, then looked away, obviously thinking he had made his irrefutable point.
But Marje surprised them both by saying: ‘Maybe.’ Daiho looked back at her, eyebrows raised. He opened his mouth.
‘But the choice should be informed and voluntary,’ Marje went on. ‘No one has the right to ordain who should make that sacrifice.’
The truth-gathering went on. From the two youngsters, their experiences of being taken from the plantation back to the Home Time. From Su came her account of the meeting with Marje in Daiho’s villa; the stream of small details that weren’t quite right; her constantly suspicious, volatile partner. And finally, from Marje herself, the flip side of Su’s testimony: the shock of the news of her superior’s death; encounters with Op Garron; a similar sense that something, somewhere wasn’t right.
And more, of course, for which Marje had already steeled herself. The approach by Yul Ario, the not-so-subtle hints that she should drop the case, the attempt to recall Garron. Marje shut her eyes, knowing that not only were the others getting the bald facts but her accompanying self-loathing with it. She had been right, she had been on the right trail, and yes, there had even been a murder… and she had been prepared to throw it all away for the convenience of the patricians.
But lurking behind it all was the small item of knowledge — which surprised her, but for which she was glad — that, like Daiho, she was prepared to pay whatever penalties came her way. She still felt like the world’s vilest traitor but there was one crumb of self-redemption in her testimony.
It stopped. The whole thing had taken only a few seconds but everyone was looking at everyone else, reassessing and re-evaluating their thoughts and opinions of the people around them. Su in particular met her eyes, held her gaze, nodded slightly and then looked away. That counted for more than anything else in Marje’s opinion. Su wasn’t holding her weakness against her.
And the World Executive spoke.
‘We have made our decision,’ it said.
‘Su,’ said Marje. ‘Hello. Come in, take a seat.’
Marje didn’t sound very interested in Su’s presence. She stood with her back to the door, gazing out across the white landscape beyond the window. Su did as she was told.
‘Commissioner Daiho… ?’ she said.
‘Some Security Ops came for him about ten minutes ago. They took him away.’
‘I’ve just come from the transference hall,’ Su said. ‘The equipment’s under guard by Security. It’ll be used by the College, not Daiho’s friends.’
‘Good.’
‘And the Specifics are going to try and get Rico back.’
‘Good.’ Marje still sounded numb, disinterested.
‘I was just wondering…’
Marje finally turned round. ‘Yes?’
‘Will you stay on as Rico’s sponsor? The thing is, Marje, Holmberg-Chabani-Scott have filed suit against him for Scott’s death, they say he was negligent, and they don’t have a leg to stand on, but they could make life very unpleasant for him, so—’
‘No,’ said Marje.
There was a silence.
‘I’m sorry.’ Su stood up again. ‘I won’t bother you again, Commissioner.’
‘Wrong,’ Marje said. ‘Sit down, please, Su.’ And while Su sat, slowly, and stayed still, something seemed to snap inside Marje at long last and she paced about the office. ‘I’m not a Commissioner any more,’ she said. ‘I’ve just symbed in my resignation. No Commissioner, so no patrician membership, so no sponsorship for Op Garron. I’m sorry.’
‘Marje, if it’s about—’
‘Su, I’ve been used from my very first day on this job! I’ve been lied to, I’ve been blackmailed, and the worst of it is, it came damn close to working. I wanted to be a patrician so I could help others but all that happened was I got caught up in the whole sick powerplay at the top. Oh yes, it’s everywhere! They were all in on it. Yul Ario, for a start—’
‘—and I suspect the rest. And will any of it come out? Will any heads roll? Of course not. Everyone involved was a patrician and they should all be above reproach. The people can’t be allowed to see their failings. No, Su, I haven’t been impressed by what I found out about them and I don’t care too much for what I found out about myself. I’m not going to take that any more.
‘And that is why I can’t help.’ She looked at Su and sighed, her energy expended for the time being. ‘I’ll be glad to offer what testimony I can, but I can’t give Rico patronage. He’ll have to defend himself against Hoon with the facts.’
‘Marje,’ said Su, ‘we all know they don’t need facts to make his life very unpleasant.’
One corner of Marje’s mouth smiled. ‘Op Garron has worked his way up from the orphan’s creche to this place, and he’s done it on his own. I have a feeling he’ll get through this too.’
Su quietly took her leave.
After Su was gone, Marje took a couple of deep breaths and looked again around the office. The old fashioned bookcases and panelling; the furniture and carpet; the clash of styles she had never got round to changing.
And the hourglass on the wall, with its prominent ‘27’.
All someone else’s problem. No more politics for her. No more manipulation. No more correspondents.
Or, in other words, no more playing God with the lives of people who couldn’t make it in the Home Time. Now, she would
There were almost tears in Marje Orendal’s eyes when she left the office, but also a spring in her step.
TWENTY-FOUR
