Earth Unaware (First Formic War) (48 page)

Imala couldn’t hide the sarcasm in her voice. “So you had no idea this was going on?”

He looked affronted. “Absolutely not. Do you think I would be stupid enough to skimp like that? I’m a businessman, Imala. Some would even say a very savvy businessman. Do you think I would skate around regulations and risk losing shipping licenses that generate billions in monthly revenue? I’m no fool, Imala. Even if I were the three-headed monster you take me for, I’m not moronic enough to risk having my company broken up and dragged through the mud by international prosecutors all for a few hundred million credits.”

“You say that like it’s not a lot of money.”

“Do you know how much I am worth, Imala? Do you have any idea how much money my corporation has generated in the time you and I have been talking?”

“I bet you pick up a lot of women with that line.”

He laughed again. “Believe me, Imala, whatever my people were hiding with Gregory Seabright was a drop in my bucket.”

He was exaggerating. Imala had a pretty good idea what he was worth. She hadn’t seen all the files at the agency, so she couldn’t be completely certain. But she knew enough to suspect that the load Seabright had helped conceal was no chump change. Plus Seabright was only one person. Imala was near certain Jukes was filling pockets all throughout the agency. Seabright was simply the one careless enough to get caught.

“So you kidnapped me to convince me that you’re innocent of any wrongdoing?” asked Imala.

“Kidnapped? Goodness, Imala. You do gravitate toward the dramatic, don’t you? No, I shared this car with you on the way to your lunch appointment so that I may make you a proposition.”

“If you’re going to offer me hush money, don’t bother.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Honestly. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who thinks so little of me. I should have you around more often, Imala, just to keep me humble.”

She folded her arms and said nothing.

“I want to offer you a job, Imala. You’re still young, and you lack experience, so it’s not a senior position. But you obviously have a passion for the work and you’re very good at what you do. You uncovered a mess at the LTD that no one else saw for years.”

“The other auditors look at the totals. I look at
all
the numbers.”

“Exactly. You look at all the numbers. That’s what I need, Imala. Someone who looks where others don’t. There are people in my company who have cheated me, and I want to know who they are. I don’t know whom to trust. I need someone above reproach who will report directly to me.”

“You don’t need me,” said Imala. “Most of the files I found implicate people on your staff. Anyone on the investigation can follow those threads and give you a list of names.”

“Yes, but how big is this problem? Did you find every file? Did you uncover every concealment? I fear this may be bigger than we think. These people are auditors, Imala. They know how to make their crimes disappear. I want to know who they are.” His face darkened, and she saw a glimpse of the man he was rumored to be. “No one steals from me, Imala. No one.”

Did he honestly not know this was going on? Was he actually innocent? Imala couldn’t deny that it was possible. The man had hundreds of thousands of employees. He couldn’t know the actions of all of them. And none of the evidence she had found implicated Ukko in any way, not directly at least.

Ukko said, “You and I both know that no one in the private sector will even glance at your résumé until you’ve done five years at the LTD, Imala. I’m offering you an early out. I know the bureaucracy you’re dealing with. I know you must hate it. And you’ve been there, what, six months?”

Seven months, thirteen days, thought Imala. Enough time to know she loved the work and hated the people. Aloud she said, “It didn’t cross your mind that hiring me would be a conflict of interest considering the pending investigation? I can’t possibly accept, Mr. Jukes.”

“I haven’t even told you the salary.”

“It doesn’t matter. It would taint the investigation. It would
look
like hush money.”

He told her the salary.

It was a lot of money, though not
too
much that it looked like a bribe. It was probably comparable to what people with a few more years experience than her were making these days in the private sector. And hadn’t she proved that she was just as capable as they were, if not more so? It was exactly the salary she knew she deserved. For a moment she hesitated. More income meant she could get out of that closet of an apartment she was staying in and start paying off her student loans. Maybe even send money home.

No. What was she thinking? He was buying her off. Just as he had bought off Seabright and Pendergrass. How could she forget Pendergrass? The snake had tossed her into the lion’s den.

“Stop the car,” she said.

“Am I to take this as a no to my offer?”

“You may take it as a hell no and you can shove it up that wrinkly white butt of yours. You’re not buying me off.”

His expression remained impassive. “You’re making a mistake, Imala. I am offering you an opportunity here.”

“You’re removing me from the investigation,” she said. “You’re mopping up. Make me go away, and your stooges in the LTD make the whole investigation go away. Tell me if I’m getting warm here.”

Ukko flicked his wrist, and the car pulled to the curb. Imala’s door opened.

“Enjoy your lunch, Imala. I hope you’ll show more respect the next time someone merely offers you what you deserve.”

She started to get out.

“And one more thing,” said Ukko. “A bit of unsolicited advice. Get to know people before you write them off as black-hearted scoundrels. You’re a quick judge of character, Imala. And you’re not always right.”

She got out. The door closed. The car zipped back into traffic and disappeared.

She looked around her. She was in the French Quarter, an upscale part of town with quaint shops selling chocolates and perfumes and ridiculously priced clothing. Every street in the city was covered with shielded domes that protected against solar radiation and that kept in air and heat, but only in the French Quarter were the dome ceilings painted the light blue color of Earth sky with the occasional white of fluffy clouds. Imala hated it. It was like everyone she worked with at the LTD. Fake and phony.

Across the street was a restaurant. Pendergrass and his dimwit vixen were sitting at a table outside, eating pasta through semi-sealed containers. Imala must have been doing circles with Ukko if Pendergrass had beaten her here. He saw her, smiled, and waved at her to come join them. Imala turned on her heels and began walking back toward the office, ignoring him. If she crossed the street and approached Pendergrass she was fairly certain she’d grab his pasta and smear it in his face.

*   *   *

It took Imala well over an hour to get back to the LTD, and that was after removing her greaves and taking big moon leaps down the sidewalk in the lesser gravity. She got contemptuous looks from people since moonwalking was unfashionable in the French Quarter, but Imala didn’t care. It’s the Moon, people. Get over it.

A message was waiting in the holospace at her cubicle. It read,
COME TO MY OFFICE. ROOM 414.

Imala checked the agency directory, worried that the room was assigned to one of the auditors she had fingered. She was relieved when she saw that it wasn’t. A senior auditor named Fareed Bakárzai, whom Imala didn’t know, occupied the space. She felt leery about being summoned to a stranger’s office so soon after meeting with Gardona and Ukko Jukes. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

She took the tube up to the fourth floor and knocked on the office door.

“Come in.”

Fareed Bakárzai’s office was an organized disaster. There were stacks of discs, boxes, and files everywhere, all strapped to the floor with long bands. Rows of old tariff and tax-code books lined shelves, though they had to be years, if not decades, out of date. It was the most paper Imala had seen since coming to Luna.

Fareed flicked off his holospace and faced her. He was about the same age as Director Gardona, but the similarities stopped there. Fareed reminded Imala of a few professors from Arizona State: cardigan, beard, slightly unkempt appearance, the kind of person you’d find running an antique store filled mostly with junk.

“Ms. Bootstamp,” he said, extending a hand. “I’m Fareed. Welcome. You probably don’t know this, but I’m the man who brought you here. To Luna, I mean. I read your paper on iron trade discrepancies and found it naïve in places but mostly on the nose. Very keen observations for a grad student. I had HR do a little digging. When they saw that you had actually submitted an application, I had them pull it from the slush pile and told them to interview you.”

Imala was momentarily speechless. She had no idea. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you, sir.”

He shook a finger. “Not ‘sir.’ Fareed.” He gestured to the mess. “I’d offer you a place to sit down, but there isn’t one and we’re nearly weightless up here anyway.”

She looked around and said nothing.

“You’re wondering why I brought you here,” he said. “And I’ll be forthright with you. It’s not good news.” He took a moment and sighed. “Essentially you were terminated about half an hour ago.”

“What!”

Fareed held a hand. “Now, before you get angry and say something you might regret, hear me out. You are
not
terminated. The executive team met, and I fought for you.”

“Wait. I’m not fired?”

“You were. I talked them into keeping you on, though not with your old job. That was out of the question. You’re getting a new assignment.”

“Why was I terminated in the first place?” But as soon as she asked the question she knew the answer. Ukko. She had turned him down an hour ago, and Ukko had wasted no time getting a holo to whomever he owned in the agency.

“Does Ukko Jukes own Director Gardona?” asked Imala. “Is that what this is?”

“Careful what you say, Imala. These walls are thin. There were several legitimate reasons for your termination.”

She folded her arms, furious. “Such as?”

“You pretended to be a journalist and lied to a fellow employee, violating the agency’s code of ethics.”

Imala threw a hand up. “I lied to a
secretary
. And I did it in the interest of the agency. Gardona wouldn’t see me otherwise.”

“You also snooped around agency files for which you had no authorization to access.”

“I was conducting an investigation into illegal practices. I couldn’t exactly go to Seabright and ask to see his files.”

“There are channels to follow for this kind of thing, Imala. You skipped them all and played sheriff.”

She couldn’t believe this. Here she had done what no one else in the agency had the courage to do—and maybe even the brains to do—and they were vilifying her.

“Whom was I supposed to go to?” she asked. “Pendergrass? Because I
did
go to him. He blew me off.”

Fareed seemed surprised. “When was this?”

“A month ago.”

“Do you any have documentation of this? E-mails? Holos?”

She tried to remember. “No. I pulled him aside and showed him everything in person.”

Fareed was disappointed. He shrugged. “He’d probably only say he thought you were being zealous and admit he made a mistake.”

“That’s exactly what he said. Right before he led me outside and put me in a car with Ukko Jukes.”

Fareed was startled. “When?”

“An hour ago. That’s where I was at lunch.”

“I see.” Fareed went back behind his desk, paced a moment, then turned to her. “I can’t get you your old job back, Imala. Even knowing that you went to Pendergrass. The executive team was adamant.”

“Of course they were. Ukko Jukes has them in his pocket. They’re trying to shut me up and make the whole scandal with Seabright go away.”

“It already is going away,” said Fareed. “Jukes has agreed to pay all the back taxes and tariffs as well all fees and fines. Both the agency and Jukes will conduct separate internal investigations, and that will be the end of it.”

“Tell me you’re joking. We should be taking this to prosecutors.”

Fareed shook his head. “Not going to happen, Imala. They’re going to bury it.”

“Then I’ll go to the press. I’ll tell whomever will listen.”

“No one will listen, Imala. There are influences here much greater than you realize.”

He was telling her that Ukko owned the media as well; that anything she did would be squashed by Jukes. Unbelievable. They were letting this man bully them. Even Fareed—who seemed like a decent enough guy and who probably didn’t take a dime from Ukko—was stuck under Ukko’s thumb simply because he was in a system Ukko controlled.

“I got you on at Customs,” said Fareed. “It’s not glamorous, but it’s working with people, which you need.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a little rough around the edges, Imala. You haven’t made any friends since you came here. You despise everyone. This could be good for you.”

“I don’t despise everyone.”

“Name one person in your department with whom you have a friendship.”

“They all kiss up to Pendergrass. They don’t care about the work. They make constant mistakes.”

“How would you know they make mistakes?”

“Because I’ve checked their work. It’s sloppy.”

“Yes, and I’m sure they greatly appreciate you, a junior assistant, combing their work for mistakes.”

“Pendergrass sure isn’t going to do it.”

Fareed sighed. “You’re done, Imala. I stuck my neck out for you when the guys upstairs were ready to put you on a shuttle back to Earth. You can at least pretend to act grateful and take this job. Who knows? In a few years, I might be able to help you get on with a private firm.”

Imala wasn’t sure if she should punch the wall or cry. A few years? He
might
help her in few years? This was his gift to her? This was him pulling a favor? She wanted to tell him no. She wanted to shut him down the same way she had rejected Ukko. But what good would that do her? The moment your work permit was tagged as terminated, you were gone. If she walked out of here without a job, she’d be shipped to Earth no questions asked. And then what? Back to Arizona to face her father and tell him how right he had been? No, she couldn’t do that.