Realms of Light

Chapter Fourteen

I hadn’t specified which entrance to use, so the cabhad brought us down at the big front door on Cassiopeia Avenue, andour arrival was the central act of a circus.

Ginza cops were everywhere, three or fourdifferent varieties of them, and a few characters who had the lookof cops but who I didn’t think were from the Ginza. People in fancysuits were there, as well, and I don’t think they were all on thesame side. Dozens of floaters were swooping around, orhovering-newsies and security and spy-eyes, and advertisers thatsaw a crowd forming and didn’t care why. Tourists were watching;they probably had no idea what was going on, but thought it lookedexciting.

Add that to the usual glittering chaos of acasino’s entrance, the stardust and holos and lightscapes.

But I didn’t see ’Chan.

“Hey,” I said into Singh’s com. “Where’s mybrother?”

“On his way.”

“We’ll wait.”

The cab asked, “Will you bedisembarking?”

“We’re staying right where we are,” I toldit. “Go ahead and charge waiting rates if you want.”

“Thank you, Mis’.”

“You’re either crazy, desperate, rich, or onan expense account,” Singh remarked. “I’m guessing it’s an expenseaccount. You’re working for someone.”

“Could be more than one of those,” Isaid.

“It could. You said something about richfriends; I’m betting it’s more like a rich client.”

I glanced at him. “You know, you should becareful about what you bet on. You might make someone angry.”

“You must know you couldn’t get out of thiswith your brain intact if you didn’t have some pretty seriousbacking.”

“So maybe I want to be reconstructed.Maybe it’s my way of avoiding reality, since I can’t afford to buythe dream the way my old man did.”

Singh shook his head. “You aren’t thatcrazy.”

The cab was now completely surrounded byGinza cops and security floaters. “Are you sure?” I asked.

He considered that for a moment, then said,“Yeah, I think I am.”

“Good. Cab, privacy, please?”

“You do know that the city police canoverride my privacy field?”

“I didn’t, but I’ll risk it. Do it.”

“Yes, mis’.” The bubble went black, plungingus into gloom lit only by the cab’s various internal displays.

I turned back to Singh. “Here’s what I wantyou to do for your three kilocredits. I’m going to talk to mybrother, and I’m going to tell him I have someone here in the cabhe needs to see. He’ll come over to look and he’ll see our dadhere-and when he does, you grab him and pull him into the cab.”

“I can do that.”

“And cabbie, the instant our new passenger isaboard, I want you to close up and head for the port as fast as youcan. Don’t wait for further instructions. Got it?”

“Yes, mis’.”

“Good. Then drop the privacy.”

“Yes, mis’.” The bubble was transparentagain, and I looked out at a dozen guns pointed at us-and at ’Chan,who was walking slowly across the entry plaza toward us. A woman ina navy blue suit was walking beside him and talking while read-outsflickered across her chest and sleeve. ’Chan was leaning toward herslightly, obviously listening to whatever she was saying.

“Open the door,” I said.

The cab’s door slid aside, and I perchedmyself in the opening with the HG-2 in my hand. “’Chan!” Icalled.

“Mis’ Hsing,” the woman beside him called.“Come out and talk.”

“Talk first,” I said. “Then maybe I’ll comeout.” As I spoke I was trying to take in as much of my surroundingsas possible, and in particular what sort of weaponry the casinocops were displaying. It looked like about half lethal, half merelyincapacitating, which meant that they’d be willing to take me downat the first opportunity. Killing me would mean kiloscreens ofreports and documentation and trouble with superiors who might wantto know what the hell I’d thought I was doing, but tranking me, orotherwise shutting me down somehow, would be good for a few karmapoints, so long as I didn’t manage to do any damage going down.

Which was why I had the gun turned on andready. If they shot me I intended to get off a shot or two of myown before I went blank.

“Carlie, what the hell are you doing?” ’Chanasked. He sounded both concerned and annoyed.

“Did they tell you who I kidnaped?” Icalled.

’Chan glanced at his keeper-I wasn’t sure ifshe was his boss as a security admin, or in a different chain ofcommand, or what. “No,” he called back.

“I think you should take a look.”

The woman in blue whispered something to him;he threw her a startled glance.

“It may not be who they think it is,” Isaid.

“Carlie, this is insane,” he answered.

“Come take a look, and then tell methat.”

That definitely had his interest; he came andlooked. I leaned aside and pointed toward the luggagecompartment.

“Is that Dad?” ’Chan asked, leaning in. “Theysaid…”

And that was when Singh grabbed him by thefront of his worksuit and heaved him over me into the cab.

“Go!” I shouted, but I didn’t really need to;the cab was already moving.

The door closed on ’Chan’s foot at first; wemust have been forty meters up by the time the cab was able to getit free and Singh managed to pull ’Chan entirely in.

“I’m being ordered to land immediately,” thecab told us.

“You tell ‘em that if you land, I’ll startshooting.”

“They want to know whether I consider this acredible threat.”

“I have an active gun here; what doyou think?”

“I think I am not programmed for threatassessment. I am reporting this conclusion to the city police.”

“It’s city cops now?”

“Yes, mis’.”

That was bad. I didn’t want to mess with citycops. I glanced out through the bubble at the city zipping past.“Is this your maximum velocity?”

“I am exceeding the posted speed limits bythe customary twenty-five percent.”

“Go to emergency maximum, please.”

“I am forbidden to do so without an orderfrom authorized personnel.”

“An active gun doesn’t constituteauthorization?”

“I regret to say it does not.”

I looked out and saw no fewer than four copcars following us-and those two black floaters. The cops seemed tobe ignoring the floaters; I wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Getting from the cab into the ship was goingto be tricky.

“Privacy,” I said.

“The city police have overridden my privacysystems.”

Damn. “They’re listening?”

“I would assume so.”

I only had to think for a second. “Listen,cab,” I said. “I like you, and I don’t want you to get hurt. Put usdown where I point, and as soon as we’re out, get the hell out ofthere. You understand?”

“Yes, mis’.”

“We’re clear on the fare and tip?”

“I believe so, mis’.”

I smiled. I did like this cab. “If you’recoding for even more-well, how much can you take without gettingcalled for an ethics violation?”

“You might be surprised, mis’.”

I smiled wider. It even had something like asense of humor-and maybe a sense of honor, too, giving me agraceful way to avoid wasting too much money. “I might, atthat. Okay, not that much, but I’m feeling generous. You chargewhat seems fair.”

“Thank you, mis’.”

We were approaching the port by then. I triedto arrange myself so that my gestures wouldn’t be visible to thecops behind us, but I knew the onboard security cams would befeeding to them, and they could calculate from those. “Put us downthere,” I said, pointing at the steps to Ukiba’sairlock.

“Yes, mis’.”

“Carlie!” ’Chan said. “What the hell are youdoing?”

I turned to look at him; he and Singh werethoroughly tangled on the seat beside me. Dad was leaning over theseat-back and grinning at them.

“Getting you out,” I said. I would have said“off this planet” if the cops hadn’t been listening. “Mis’ Singh,can you manage both?”

Singh had straightened himself out. He lookedat ’Chan and Dad, considering. He did not look happy.

“Never mind,” I said. “Get him.” I pointed at’Chan. “I’ll get the other.”

“Carlie, you know the implant kicked in, andI’m paralyzed from the hips down, right?”

“I know,” I said. “You just cooperate and noone gets hurt.”

“Oh, come on, Carlie, I’m your brother! Youaren’t…” He stopped in mid-sentence, and I don’t know whether itwas because he realized the cops were listening, or because hesuspected I really was that crazy.

Or maybe it’s just that he didn’t think I waslistening, because I was hauling Dad out of the rear compartment.Dad was helping me as much as he could, but that wasn’t much.

Grandfather Nakada’s doctors were going tohave some work to do getting my family back in shape, I thought.Assuming anyone bothered to do anything with Dad other than stickhim back in a dreamtank.

The cab was settling down right next to theUkiba-I mean, close enough that my feet wouldn’t have totouch the plastic pavement at all, I’d step straight from the cabonto the metal steps. I heaved Dad onto my shoulder and got readyto jump, but paused long enough to com Perkins two words-“Open up.”I knew the cops would intercept that, but I was hoping they mightnot realize I was talking to the ship rather than the cab, or thatthey simply wouldn’t react quickly enough.

The cab opened up first, but only by a secondor two. By the time I was solidly on the steps and trying to climbwith my old man on my shoulder the airlock door was slidingaside.

I was relying on the fact that the cops werehuman, and had only human reaction times; the pause while theydecided whether to shoot or not gave us time to get aboard theship.

But only barely. Singh was right on my heels,with ’Chan on his shoulder, and the first trank bounced offthe steps where his foot had been an instant before while I wasstill staggering into the airlock.

We made it, though, and the airlock closed upbehind us, and the ship began moving the instant the outer door hada good seal.

If we’d been using a commercial vessel thatwould have been it, the authorities would have shut it down beforeit got off the ground, but I was pretty sure Yoshio Nakada wasn’tthe sort of person who would allow that. I’d gambled that theUkiba did not have any of the standard police or portoverrides-or at least, that they didn’t actually override theship’s own systems.

The warning sirens were howling; we couldhear them through the hull until we got through the inner door ofthe lock. I hoped the newsies and cops would all realize we meantit, and that the overrides weren’t going to stop us; I didn’t wantanyone to be hurt by the launch.

I dumped Dad on the vibrating floor as soonas we were in the ship; he might only weigh half what he ought to,but that was still more than I was accustomed to carrying, and theship’s acceleration made any movement more difficult.

Singh lowered ’Chan to the deck, too, and weboth sank down as well, and sat there leaning against the wall andpanting as the roar of atmosphere past the hull peaked, and thenbegan to fade.

“Mis’ Hsing?” Perkins asked over theintercom.

“Right here,” I said. “Everyone’s aboard andalive.”

“We’re clear of the crater and heading forspace,” Perkins said. “I’m ignoring a lot of questions and demandsfrom the ground.”

I nodded, not that I thought he could see it.“Good.”

“What’s our destination?”

“American City,” I told him. “The Nakadacompound.”

“Thank you. May I ask who our passengersare?”

I glanced around. “The one with the workinglegs is Minish Singh,” I said. “He’s a passenger-I promised him aride off Epimetheus in exchange for his help with the others. Theskin and bone near-corpse is my biological father, Guohan Hsing; wewant to make sure he’s healthy, then get him settled into adreamery on Prometheus. And the last one’s my brother Sebastian,who needs to have an implant removed before we can let him go.”

“An implant? So we’re being tracked?”

I sighed. “Perkins, we’re staying in-system.They don’t need an implant to track us.”

“Oh. Of course not.” There was a click; Ididn’t know whether he had really broken contact, but he seemed tobe done talking.

“I assume you’ve got a surgeon lined up totake it out,” ’Chan said.

“Not yet,” I said. “We can take care of itwhen we get to Prometheus.”

“Do you have a dream booked?” Dad asked.

“No.” I saw the disapproving look on his faceand said, “I’m improvising.”

“You should have left me in the tank.”

“Yes, I probably should,” I agreed, “but Ididn’t trust Seventh Heaven to keep you alive in there once theTrap is in daylight.”

“I hate this, Carlie,” he said. “Everythinghurts, and sometimes it’s boring, and it seems dangerous. Someonecould have shot at that cab, or at this ship.”

“Run it,” I said. “We should have you savedin a new tank in a couple of days.”

“You know, you made a real mess back there,”’Chan said. “Kidnaping and extortion and an unauthorized launch andprobably a lot I don’t know about. You better keep the Nakadasreally happy; they’re going to need to pay off a lot ofpeople to clean that up.”

“I intend to satisfy my client,” I said.

’Chan heard the certainty in my voice. “Soyou think you know who killed Grandfather Nakada?”

I grimaced. “Nobody did,” I said.

’Chan couldn’t move his legs, but he threw uphis hands at that. “Then what did they hire you for? If he died ofnatural causes, what do they need with a detective?”

“He didn’t die,” I said. I started to explainfurther, then stopped; it wasn’t any of ’Chan’s business.

“What, he faked his death? Why would he dothat?”

I shook my head. “It’s complicated,” I said.“You don’t need to know. All you need to know is that I got you outof Nightside City.”

“With my legs locked up and my accountsprobably frozen.”

“We’ll get that fixed. We’ll get the implantout, and we’ll get your money to Prometheus. You’ll be fine.”

“The Ginza is going to be furious if I don’tgo back.”

“Screw the Ginza and IRC. We’ll take care ofit.”

He stared at me. “You’re running that smoothwith the Nakadas?”

“I hope so.” I looked at Singh. “You haven’tbeen saying much.”

He shrugged. “I don’t have much to say. Iwanted a ride off Epimetheus, and I’m getting one; I’m happy.”

“A man of simple code,” I said. “I likethat.”

“I may need some help with a breach ofcontract suit from Seventh Heaven.”

“If they bother,” I said.

“I said ‘may.’”

I nodded.

Singh started to say something else, thentook a look at my face and stopped; I guess he realized I wasn’tlistening any more.

I was thinking.

I was thinking about what Seventh Heavenmight do about a stolen customer and poached employee, and that ledme to the conclusion that it depended on the personalitiesinvolved, which led to me wondering exactly who the locals were whoowned the Eta Cass franchise of Seventh Heaven, and that led meback to the back door into their systems, the back door that oldYoshio had had installed, but which someone else had recently beenusing.

Yoshio had the back door installed when hewas thinking of acquiring the company, or at least the localdivision-I didn’t know whether he’d been interested in the homeoffice on Mars. Well, what if whoever had used the back door justbefore me had also been thinking about buying up the Eta Cassfranchise of Seventh Heaven? With the dawn maybe a year away, thewhole thing was probably available cheap.

In fact, maybe the original Yoshio hadreconsidered and was taking another look. Yoshio-kunwouldn’t know that, and the old man probably wouldn’t have botheredmentioning it to me, since so far as he knew it was just anotherbyte of business and had nothing to do with the tampering with hisdream enhancer. Grandfather Nakada himself wasn’t on Epimetheus andhadn’t been lately, and I didn’t think he could have used that backdoor over interplanetary distances; the delay in response timebetween Epimetheus and Prometheus was about eighteen minutes at themoment, and you couldn’t sustain a connection with a break likethat in it. He could have had one of his agents checking it out,though.

But if that was the case, then whoever usedthe back door hadn’t needed the old man’s ITEOD files to getaccess.

So maybe our little corporate explorer andthe party who faked the old man’s death weren’t the same person atall; maybe it was just a coincidence, and the fraud had been aftersomething else in the ITEOD files. Or maybe there was a connectionI was missing.

Or maybe Yoshio had nothing to do with theintrusions, and I’d been right the first time. Or this was all partof some complicated corporate espionage that the old man might ormight not know about.

I would have to ask him a few questions oncewe were safely back in American City.

But there were things I could check righthere. “Ukiba,” I said, “research request-I want to know theexact ownership of the local franchise of Seventh HeavenNeurosurgery, including any recent changes in ownership, or bidsfor purchase or control.”

“Working,” the ship replied. “How would youprefer the data to be presented?”

“Text display.”

“Available.”

We were clearing atmosphere by then, or atany rate the noise and vibration had subsided, so I was able tomake my way to a terminal and look at what the ship had pulled offthe nets-or maybe it had the information in its own files allalong, for all I know; it might be something the old man liked tokeep current.

As I suspected from its location, aboutthirty-four percent of Seventh Heaven Neurosurgery of EtaCassiopeia was owned by IRC. Another eleven percent was owned byNew Bechtel-Rand. The rest was spread across dozens of smallinvestors, all based in the Eta Cass system, some in NightsideCity, some on Prometheus.

And someone was trying to negotiate atakeover. An investment group calling itself Corporate Initiativeshad approached IRC, New Bechtel-Rand, and several of the othershareholders with a tender offer-or rather, looking at the times,someone was approaching them right now.

I pulled up everything available on CorporateInitiatives. There wasn’t much. Most of the listed contacts weresoftware, the legal filings were all as vague as possible, theaddresses were all just mail drops.

I knew there had to be a human agent listedsomewhere, and eventually I found her. Her name was Chantilly Rhee,and at least legally, she was a resident of American City.

That was a surprise; I’d expected the wholething to be based in Nightside City, or at least somewhere onEpimetheus. I asked for her background.

She was nine going on ten in Prometheanyears-twenty-six Epimethean, twenty-seven Terran. That was tooyoung to be the real power here, I was pretty sure. Born inMuriel-that was a mining town on a caldera island just off the NineIslands archipelago, a couple of hundred kilometers west ofAmerican City. That didn’t tell me anything. Her parents weren’tanyone special, a roomscape artist and a tactile therapist. Twoyounger sisters. Standard online education, got her checkmark whenshe was just five-sixteen Terran. Took half a year to travel, thenfound a job and settled in American City.

But then I saw what that job was, and Mis’Rhee got very interesting.

She was personal assistant to KumikoNakada-Yoshio Nakada’s only surviving daughter.

Of course, Chantilly Rhee’s involvementdidn’t mean that Yoshio’s daughter was the one behind theassassination attempt; for one thing, if this was all connected andKumiko was really the villain of the piece, I’d expect her to do abetter job of hiding it. This could be coincidence, ormisdirection, or one corner of a conspiracy.

Whatever it was, though, at least I finallyhad a suspect. When I got to American City I intended to have achat with Grandfather Nakada, and then a little talk with hisdaughter. I doubted I would be able to get within twenty meters ofher ordinarily, but with her father’s backing I thought I ought tobe able to arrange a conversation.

And one thing I wanted to know was what thehell she wanted with Seventh Heaven. Dream companies weren’texactly a hot item, last I heard; most people preferred real life.A dream company based in Nightside City seemed like an especiallybad investment.

I remembered the case that got me offEpimetheus in the first place, when Sayuri Nakada had been connedinto buying up worthless real estate by convincing her there was away to keep the sun from rising and cooking Nightside City. Whatwas it with Nakadas making stupid investments in a doomed city? WasKumiko being conned, the way Sayuri was?

I knew it wasn’t the same people; Sayuri wassuckered by a group operating out of the Ipsy, the Institute forPlanetological Studies of Epimetheus, and Grandfather Nakada hadput a very definite stop to that. Those scammers were gone, sentfor reconstruction.

But maybe they had friends. I frowned. Maybethe attempt on Grandfather Nakada had been an act of revenge, ormaybe it had been intended to make sure he didn’t do to thesepeople what he did to Paulie Orchid, Bobo Rigmus, and Doc Lee.Maybe someone was running a con on Kumiko Nakada.

I wouldn’t expect someone her age, in herposition, to fall for any such scheme, but maybe they had a betterpitch this time than the grit Sayuri bought into.

Or maybe it wasn’t Kumiko after all; maybeChantilly Rhee was the one being conned. She was young enough to bethat dumb.

Or maybe she was part of the con, and Kumikohad bought in because she trusted Rhee.

And all that assumed there was a con,and this wasn’t something completely different. I didn’t actuallyknow what was going on at all. It was even possible that ChantillyRhee had been a front for Yoshio himself, and not Kumiko

But I intended to find out.