Visions of Liberty Part 9

Flynn held the shop's door open for Arina, then matched her stride back to the ship. "And you'd not be telling Lavaryn who Holcomb really is because . . . ?"

"Not out of any suspicion of him. Seems to me, when he's stressed, he bleeds some thought and emotion into his juniors. Learning Holcomb was a bold thief might shake his confidence, and he might let something slip that a junior would tell Deana Thompson. Keeping the true ident.i.ty a secret for the moment is best."

"I can see that, yes." He looked at her. "And how are you doing knowing a serpent has crawled into this garden?"

Arina stopped, blinking her eyes with surprise. "You know, I'd just sort of slipped back into the job, and wasn't thinking of the grander implications."

"You'd have gotten there."

"Possible. And it's not just one serpent; it's at least two. Fonteneau shouldn't have been here. Somehow Covenant lost track of him. So we need to know why he was in that shop, why he was here on Apogea, and what he's been doing for the last nine months. It's a legion of snakes."

They returned to the transport and found Deana Thompson sitting all tight and small in the pa.s.senger compartment. One of the juniors had fetched her a cup of tea. The pet.i.te woman nervously tucked a strand of blond hair behind one ear. She gave them a hopeful smile. "Hi."

Flynn sat beside her on the bench seating, and Arina took up a position opposite her. "I'm Arina Gadja, Colonel Gadja of Safety Services. This is Father Dennis Flynn, a visitor here and a friend of mine.

Covenant has requested our aid in resolving a situation involving David Holcomb. You know him?"

"Is he all right?"

Arina's head came up. "What would make you think he might not be?"

Deana hesitated, then looked down into her cup of tea. "Nothing."

Flynn laid a hand on her shoulder and felt her jump. "Listen to me, Miss Thompson, there's going to be nothing worse in all this than your fear."

The edge in Arina's voice contrasted sharply with the quiet softness of his. "Miss Thompson, you must realize how important this is for Covenant to request the help of a citizen. The sooner we get to the bottom of this, the better for all involved."

Deana shook her head. "I told him he shouldn't do it."

"Do what?"

The woman sipped her tea, then held her left hand out, palm forward, showing the hint of a scar where her identification chip had been implanted. "There was one night, David and I were out having a drink, dancing, just having fun. We struck up a conversation with another couple and talked a little about our lives before Apogea. The guy said that the one thing he didn't like about Apogea was that Covenant knew where we were and what we were doing at all times. He said that back in the real world he could go out, get roaring drunk, and wake up not remembering where he was, where he'd been or what he'd done with whom. That not knowing, that was a thrill for him, but here Covenant could tell him everything, taking the mystery out of it."

Flynn shivered, and it wasn't just the man's illusion that what he had done remained unknown. G.o.d certainly knew. What chilled Flynn was the man's willful desire to abandon responsibility for his actions, his wanton disavowal of the rules by which society governed itself, and his being thrilled by the not knowing. It was pa.s.sively nihilistic behavior that could, as the desire for greater thrills built, become actively destructive.

Deana sighed heavily. "We kind of agreed-not that we liked the idea of not knowing, but knowing that Covenant is always watching over you can get to be kinda much. I mean, I know it's not making judgments, just collecting data and changing things to make sure what we want and need is provided. It's benign and positive, but sometimes it feels smothering, you know?"

Arina nodded slowly. "I can see how you could find it so."

Deana stared at her for a second, then broke eye-contact. "So the guy says he's heard of someone who had these blackout chips. You wear it on your wrist, just like he's got, covering your ID chip. The box reads your home location, or a place you're likely to be, and broadcasts to the system that this is where you are. What you do then is, you get these blackout things, then bring party stuff to a place, like a warehouse or the bas.e.m.e.nt of an apartment building, whatever. You get told where when you get the blocker. You have parties and stuff, everybody bringing something. It's cool, and everyone is liking the fact that Covenant thinks we're all home and in bed."

"So there was a party last night?"

Deana nodded. "I went. David was supposed to meet me, but he never made it. I didn't worry since he'd done that before. He'd warned me those times, though."

"Can you tell me when those times were?"

The small woman frowned. "About six weeks, and then three weeks ago."

"You don't think he was seeing someone else?"

Deana's eyes widened. "David? No. We were in love. He was going to be leaving before I was, but we both had signed for good bonus money, so we planned to marry and head back to Mars, or maybe out to one of the Commonwealth worlds to make a life together. Why would you ask that?"

"Routine. Did David know Regan Park?"

"Who?"

"The man who ran the curio shop over here on Aquila Street."

Deana shook her head. "Not that I knew." She turned her left hand back over, then thumbed the ring on her fourth finger. "David may have gotten this there. He gave it to me as a gift. Said Covenant wasn't the only one who could surprise people with nice things."

"A couple more questions, then we will be done. Does the name Stephen Fonteneau mean anything to you?"

"No, not really." Deana grinned a bit. "David had a twin brother named Stephen, so when someone would shout the name, he'd react, all unconsciously. It got to be a joke. There were times when I would leave him messages, asking Stephen to tell David I needed to see him. We made up a twin sister for me, Diana, and he did the same thing."

"Do you know Samuel Abrams? Did David?"

"No, no, not at all. We don't run in those circles. I work with the local theater company, and I know Abrams and his wife had a box. They come and bring friends, but I've never spoken to them. David worked as a sommelier at Cuisine Rigel. He might have met them there, but he used to talk about how servants are always invisible to those people. The only time they took notice of him was when he recommended a new wine, and it would be an import that Covenant had brought in and had earmarked for them anyway. He felt like it was a charade, and occasionally had fun describing how folks who knew nothing praised the wine for things he'd described, not anything in the wine itself."

Arina nodded. "Thank you, Miss Thompson, you have been most helpful."

"Fine, but you've not told me what this is about."

Flynn's friend nodded slowly. "I know, and I couldn't until I had spoken to you. I'm afraid I have some bad news for you. David didn't return last night because he was severely injured. Fatally injured."

"Fatally?" Deana's voice faded to a strangled whisper that caught in her throat. She raised a hand to cover her mouth, while the tea in her cup splashed wildly. Flynn took the cup from her hand, pa.s.sing it to a junior, then settled an arm around her shoulder. "How?"

Flynn kept his voice low and even. "Hush now, child. He died quickly and in no pain whatsoever. We're thinking he was at the curio shop-likely getting you another gift-and surprised a thief."

"Oh, G.o.d!" Deana turned and pressed her face against Flynn's chest, grabbing a tight handful of his jacket. "He's dead . . . dead. . . ."

A junior arrived leading a tall, heavy-set woman whose face immediately registered alarm as she recognized Deana and heard her sobs. She slid onto the bench on the other side of Deana and stroked her hair. "I'm Maggie Wilson, we work together. I was brought here . . ."

Arina smiled solemnly. "A tragedy. David is dead."

"Oh, Deana." The larger woman gathered Deana into her arms hugging her tightly, and the sobbing woman released Flynn and clung to her friend.

Flynn and Arina left the transport and the two women, meeting Lavaryn at the base of the short landing ramp. "You did well, Captain, bringing the friend here."

"Thank you, Colonel. We have had experience in informing people of accidental deaths, and having friends present seems to help. We regret, however, to have found nothing else of use. The place where Regan Park is supposed to be is vacant. Two ships have left the s.p.a.ceport in the time since Holcomb's death, at least as calculated by the doctors, and we do not know if he smuggled himself on board.

Procedures checking outbound pa.s.sengers are not as rigorous as they are coming in."

"It will be important for us to find Regan Park, but we don't know if he is a victim who has been taken elsewhere and killed, a murderer or in league with a murderer. We need to discover what has happened.

Right now I need Covenant to check and see if Samuel Abrams or his wife, Veronika, had been to Cuisine Rigel in the last nine months."

The Zsytzii produced his datapad and communicated a request for that data. "A dozen times. Most recently two weeks ago, a week before that, six weeks, two months. The guest list varies from two to twelve, often new arrivals. The Abrams take great delight in sharing a restaurant they consider their 'discovery' with friends."

Lavaryn looked up from the flat-screen device. "Covenant reports they invited you there, but you refused."

Arina shrugged. "I had nothing to wear."

"Rina?" Flynn looked at her incredulously as he tugged on the collar of his coat. "This is Apogea.

Covenant provided us these clothes so we'd not be in our fishing gear to make inquiries. You would have been provided whatever you needed."

"I just didn't want to go. Veronika understood." She held up a hand to forestall further discussion.

"Lavaryn, we need to canvas the neighborhood. Ask about Regan Park. Ask about the blackout chips.

You did get that from the junior listening to the interrogation, yes?"

"We did."

"Good."

"We did not understand the reference to 'Stephen Fonteneau.' Covenant says he is a thief, specializing in jewels and other rare items. What is his connection here? Should we be looking for him, and the other half of that mandible in his possession?"

"Him, no. He was David Holcomb."

The Zsytzii's face screwed down at the brows in a frown, but came up at the lip in a snarl. "We do not think that is possible. Not to doubt your identification, but that would mean that Covenant was fooled on his identification when he came here."

"I don't like the implications of that idea either, Captain." Arina shook her head. "I need a current location on Samuel and Veronika Abrams."

The Zsytzii's fingers caressed the datapad's input b.u.t.tons with blurred speed. "He is at his hunting lodge in the islands. She is in the City. Shall we communicate a request for an interview?"

"Please. An hour from now, at her home here."

One of the juniors brought Arina a datapad from the ship. Captain Lavaryn smiled. "We will communicate the address to you, as well as keep you apprised of our investigation."

Arina nodded and slid the data device into the harness's holster. "I know where she lives. It's not far.

We'll walk. I get to think while I walk. Let's go, Dennis."

Father Flynn joined her and smiled. "You took to having the weight of that harness on you fast enough, I'm thinking."

She shot him a sidelong glance. "I've been out of it for two years. I'm two years away from what Deana Thompson is going through, which sometimes doesn't seem very far, but other times . . . When I first got here I just wanted to be alone, to mourn, and I know that probably wasn't the best way to deal with Fith's death, but it was the only way I knew to do it."

"The healing process, it's different for everyone. Folks may tend one way or another, wanting to be around folks, wanting to be alone, working, retiring, and any combination of the same." Flynn rested a hand on her shoulder. "You're a vital woman, Arina, resilient. Hunkering down to heal up, that made sense. It was always your way. I was happy indeed to receive your invitation to visit. I took it as a good sign, especially given that I was there when everything happened."

"You helped hold me together, Dennis, and for that I owe you a debt I can't repay."

"Stopping those Spiral Way terrorists put everyone else in a debt they couldn't repay you." Flynn squeezed her shoulder. Spiral Way, being an anarchistic group looking to overthrow the Qian Commonwealth, had tried to enter Commonwealth s.p.a.ce at Purgatory Station, figuring that any backwater station such as it would have lax security. Arina and Fith took their jobs seriously, and discovered that the Novajet Transport ship had been hijacked. In it were weapons, including some virals that would have wrought havoc within the Commonwealth. The lightfight that resulted in the transport being secured and the terrorists killed had cost the life of a half-dozen security personnel, Fith being foremost among them.

"So I've been told, many times. I know Samuel Abrams exerted considerable influence to get me a grant to live here. I think he even created and had spread a rumor saying the Spiral Way had specifically targeted Apogea to make me seem even better." She shook her head. "I'm sure some people decided I should come here since they figured my presence would be enough to keep Spiral Way on the other side of the galaxy."

"Do you think Apogea will remain paradise with news of the murder getting out?"

"It will take more than an isolated incident to bring things crashing down." Arina opened her hands as they walked along through the artist's quarter, heading toward the tall towers to the north. "You seem to a.s.sume, my friend, that in the absence of a government, the slightest pressure will cause people to revert to animals. Apogea follows a simple model, much akin to that of children playing a pickup game of hockey. They set boundaries, they devise goals, they dispense with some rules and create others to suit their needs, with the will of the group determining what is right and functional. If someone disagrees, they go home."

"The needs of the people here are far more sophisticated than the needs of children playing hockey."

"There is no disputing that. The absence of want doesn't bring with it an absence of stupidity. People get drunk and do stupid things. They get jealous and do stupid things, but those here have been screened to minimize those tendencies, and are monitored to pick up on them and exile them before they become a problem."

Flynn nodded. "And yet, Fonteneau was here. How many more like him are there?"

"No way of knowing. The fact is, of course, that he had to have lied to get here, so his behavior from the first would earn him exile the moment he was caught. But, were he to live here through his contract and function within society, would we have been diminished by his presence? Would we have suffered because of him? You can look at someone like Samuel Abrams, in fact, and note that he has likely done as much harm as good with his businesses, but as long as he fits in with our society here, what he has done off Apogea matters not at all."

"Do you believe that? What if a murderer, some planetary dictator, bought his way into Apogea, would you not find it morally reprehensible that he could be here?"

"His presence? No. Him, certainly; and I'd not a.s.sociate with him at all. In some ways it could be argued that here, where there is no mechanism for generating power, such a person is rendered harmless. The simple fact of the matter, however, is that because having him here would not rise high in the consciousness of the people in terms of desire, Covenant would not generate an invitation to have him come to Apogea."

Flynn frowned. "I see your point, but I wonder at another one. You seem to argue that an absence of want leads to stability, but does it not also lead to stagnation? What impetus to strive in life?"

"For the contractors, the impetus comes in the nature of the bonuses they get when they leave us." Arina shrugged. "For the others, we are on the other side of striving. We have striven, and we are here, in a sanctuary."

Before Flynn could address that point with another concern, they reached the tower where Veronika Abrams had taken up residence. Covenant checked their identification, opening the building to them, and had a lift in the lobby waiting. It whisked them up to the fifty-first floor, opening into a marble-lined private foyer, across from which a wall of gla.s.s gave them a stunning view of the City and the lush, verdant landscape stretching far to the south.

Veronika Abrams greeted them herself. Willowy and graceful, she moved with the ease of a dancer in the flowing blue robe she wore gathered at the waist with a golden rope. Her black hair had been cut short and framed a pixieish face with large dark eyes and full lips. Flynn didn't wonder if she'd had a new face cloned then put in place-doing that was, for women of her cla.s.s, to be expected and quite unremarkable. Still, the light in her eyes suggested to him that her following cla.s.s convention came less out of personal vanity, than a sense of fun and delight in seeing her young self in the mirror once more.

The woman advanced, smiling. "Arina Gadja, so good to see you again. A colonel in Covenant's service, well. Unusual for a resident to work, but, I would guess, necessary. And you are Father Flynn?"

"I am."

"Don't be surprised, Father, I am well aware of who comes and goes these days. Mostly coming, a few going, of course. Tracking these things are all that keep me occupied." Veronika linked her arm through Arina's and steered her into the sitting room off to the left side of the foyer. "Now, sit and tell me what is the matter."

Arina joined Veronika on the white fabric couch, while Flynn settled into a matching chair. "Mrs.

Abrams, there has been a murder."

The woman started. "A murder? Not Sam . . ."

"No, not your husband, but someone you have met before. David Holcomb. He was the wine steward at Cuisine Rigel."

Veronika frowned and glanced up toward the ceiling. "Not terribly tall, dark brown hair?"

"That's him."

"I remember him, vaguely." Her eyes sharpened. "What has this to do with me?"

"We have reason to believe he has been here, in this apartment. He has a history of theft, and was found in possession of chigger mandibles. We think he might have taken more, and you are known to have a fine collection of jewelry."

Veronika's hand went to her throat. "Mandibles . . . They're in my husband's study. That's where we have the safe. Come on."

She led them through the suite of rooms and into a room filled with dark wood panels and festooned with the mounted heads of animals slain on a half-dozen worlds. Veronika made immediately for a broad hearth, the corners of which were decorated with chigger mandibles. She counted the four pairs, then pointed to the center of the mantelpiece. "There was another set there, mounted on a stand. It's gone."

She moved to the middle of the hearth and reached up inside, fingering an unseen catch. A panel set with the Novajet logo split apart and opened right in the middle of the mantle. Veronika reached in and withdrew several velvet-covered boxes, then carefully counted them. "One's missing."