Burning Bright

Ransome waited in the narrow reception room, lit by the long windows that ran like stripes from floor to ceiling and by the thin blue glow of the secretary system. Beyond the windows he could see the cliff face, and the cold grey-green sea beneath it, the strands of foam bright against its choppy surface; he shivered once, and turned his back on the hypnotic waters. The office was on the north side of the building, away from the approaching storm; as he’d come in, a horde of workers had been drawing shutters across the southern windows. It was not like Arduinidi to make him wait. It just proves how hot I am—if I weren’t, Selasa wouldn’t make me wait here like this, while she decides if she can afford to see me. Or, he realized suddenly, while she finds out if I’ve been seen, coming here. That was not a pleasant thought, and he reached into his pocket to touch the datablock that nestled there. It was not a good habit to get into and he took his hand away, fingers tingling. Maybe, just maybe I should’ve quit after I talked to the factors at Bonduri Warehouse, they told me enough to be able to tell Chauvelin what’s going on—He put the thought aside as unprofitable. He was here; it was too late to turn back.

The secretary chirped discreetly on its pedestal, the blue light strengthening slightly. The affected mechanical voice said, “N’Arduinidi will see you now.”

In the same instant the inner door slid open, a soft chime drawing his attention. Ransome rose to his feet, and stepped through the doorway into Arduinidi’s office. It was as if he had stepped from Storm into High Summer, and he stood blinking for a moment, disoriented. Light, the hot sunlight of full summer, poured through the windows, falling from a clear and brassy sky; a faint breeze stirred, bringing with it the smell of the summerweed that choked the cliffs in warm weather and the acrid undertone of the port. Very distantly, he could hear the slow slap of the waves against the cliff face and the screech of metal from the port. It was an illusion, of course—holoimages inside the false frames of the windows, carefully controlled ventilation and a scent mixer, subtle sound effects—but even knowing that, Ransome found himself relaxing in the summer warmth.

“It’s very good,” he said, and Arduinidi smiled at him from behind her desk. She was a big woman, tall and broad-shouldered, short hair further restrained by a band of metal disks. A single wire fell from it, running down her forehead to the socket at the corner of her left eye; her earrings were in the shape of an owl, her on-line icon.

“Thanks,” she answered, but her tone was less than enthusiastic. “You’re a very chancy item right now, did you know that?”

Ransome managed a smile, did his best to hide the sudden chill that ran up his spine. “I’d kind of gathered that, yes.”

Arduinidi glanced down at her desktop. “You were followed here, and there’s talk just coming in about a disturbance at the Bonduri Warehouse—somebody beat up a factor, it looks like. That wasn’t you, was it?”

Ransome shook his head. “Not my style.” Not my style at all. It sounds like someone’s getting desperate.

“But I’ll bet it had something to do with you,” Arduinidi said.

Ransome hesitated, but there was little point in lying to her. Arduinidi was not only one of the better network security consultants on planet, she was also one of the more reliable data fences, and a superb netwalker in her own right. Nothing happened on the nets that she didn’t know about. “Something,” he said aloud. “More to do with Damian Chrestil.”

“I told you before,” Arduinidi said. “I don’t know anything about it.”

Meaning he’s put the fear of Retribution into all of you, Ransome thought. “Selasa,” he said, and managed to make his tone faintly teasing. Arduinidi lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing. “I know you,” Ransome went on. “You’re worse than I am about a blocked access. It wouldn’t be like you not to get into the port feeds, especially after someone warned you off. I want that data.”

Arduinidi looked at him. “I’m not that stupid,” she said. “You may do this for fun, I-Jay, but half my business comes from my reputation. Even if I had the information—if—I wouldn’t sell it. And doubly not to you.”

“I know what it is,” Ransome said, “what it has to be. If I tell you what you found, will you give me a yes or no?”

Arduinidi shook her head. “No dice. How would you know whether to believe me, anyway?”