Geosynchron (16 page)

Nobody could argue with that. There was a full minute of silence
as Jara tried in vain to think of some way to lift the company's spirits.

"So ... any encouraging news from the trial?" asked Vigal in a
halfhearted attempt to change the subject.

Jara attempted to put a positive spin on the morning's news: Martika Korella had finally persuaded the court to jettison the PevertzLaubumi Disambiguation Procedure. This would not change the
parameters of the case, but at the very least, it wasn't bad news, and
therefore worthy of mention in Jara's eyes.

Ben's face curdled with every additional syllable she uttered on the
subject. "I can't believe we're still arguing about this crap," he
moaned. "It's like a whole separate meta-lawsuit about the lawsuit. I
don't understand why we can't all just pick some ground rules and get
on with it already."

"It's a matter of posturing," explained Merri. "That's what Martika
says, anyway. Here in Andra Pradesh, you need to demonstrate to the
judges that you've got confidence in your case, or they'll think you're
capitulating."

Benyamin threw his hands up in the air. "Who cares? This isn't a
popularity contest. This is about the law. Why can't we concentrate on
the substance of the issue instead of all these stupid perceptions?"

Horvil reached over and patted Benyamin on the head. "Welcome
to life," he said.

Jara could tell that the young apprentice was about to launch into
another sullen tirade, which would likely spark another round of bitterness and recrimination. Jara pinched the skin over the bridge of her
nose tightly in frustration. The fiefcorp was already being hampered by
a lousy product base and an all-consuming lawsuit; this low-level bickering only made things worse.

But Jara was spared the chore of dealing with angry fiefcorp members by an unexpected request to enter the conference room. She waved
her hand, and seconds later the door opened to reveal Martika Korella.

Even in these days of cheap chromosomal manipulation, Martika
was a genetic oddity: a red-headed woman of Asian descent who stood
over two meters tall. She would be an imposing presence in any courtroom, and had been quite intimidating here in Andra Pradesh until her sudden and unexplained attitude shift. But this morning Korella
seemed to have experienced another abrupt turnaround in the other
direction, for she was back to her old self. Composed, unflappable, in
the know.

"Good news," said the attorney, pulling up a seat at the opposite
end of the table from Jara and crossing her legs. "We've got a settlement offer."

"That is good news," said Benyamin, ready to reconsider his
opinion of Korella's legal acumen on the spot.

Merri nodded. "It would be nice to get this whole lawsuit behind
us." She gestured towards the sales charts still insulting them in full
holographic color from the center of the table. "It's already been too
much of a disruption." Horvil, Vigal, and Robby were all projecting
various expressions of agreement.

But Jara could feel her hackles rising. There it was, that inexplicable smell of oddness that surrounded this entire case. "This is kind of
... unexpected, isn't it?"

"Very unexpected," agreed Martika, twirling her fingers idly in her
hair. "The Surinas are all set to rest their case. As far as I can tell,
they've got two of the three judges completely convinced, and the
third one's leaning their way too."

"So why would they offer us a settlement now?" said Jara.

Martika shook her head. "You've heard the expression Nothing's perpendicular in Andra Pradesh?" she said. "Strange things happen in this
city. Sometimes it's best not to ask too many questions, and just take
the hand you're given."

All of the fiefcorpers could sense Jara's discontent by now. They
chose to give her a wide berth and wait to hear what she had to say.

"I suppose it all depends what the settlement's like," said Jara. "So
what are they offering? A pittance?"

"No, actually." Martika waved her hand over the table, causing the
sales charts to shrink into a far corner and a new set of spreadsheets to come to the fore. She pointed to the bold-faced numbers at the bottom,
causing them to turn red and pop forward. "That's a very good number.
Considering the legal fees you've spent already, this isn't actually much
less than you'd wind up with if we won the case outright."

Jara frowned and tapped her fingers on the tabletop. "What about
the intellectual property?"

"The Surinas would get control of that."

"You mean MultiReal?" said Ben.

"I mean MultiReal. But you've said it yourself, Jara-in all likelihood, the intellectual property's worthless. The MultiReal databases
have vanished, and anyone who gets hold of them is obligated to cede
them over to the Prime Committee anyway." The attorney clenched one
fist, causing the settlement spreadsheets to shrink back into nothingness
and the dismal sales charts to take their place. "I have to be honest here,
Jara. We could still end up swaying all three of the judges to our side.
They could award us damages and legal fees. But. . . " Martika shifted in
her seat uncomfortably. "I don't think that's likely to happen."

Horvil looked sheepishly in Jara's direction. "You've heard the
expression Take the money and run ...

But that was precisely the problem. Jara knew she had little to lose
in accepting this settlement offer. Jayze and Suheil would recover a
large piece of a fund that would likely be spent on legal fees anyway,
and they would get the rights to a program that Jara didn't even possess. The company could finally sever the chains binding them to the
past and chart a new course into the future. Heck, she could see herself
paying the sum at the bottom of that spreadsheet just to avoid looking
at Jayze and Suheil's smarmy faces again.

It was, in fact, such a plum offer that Jara knew she had to refuse it.

Why would Jayze and Suheil suddenly decide to hedge their bets,
a scant few days before the Andra Pradeshian judges were likely to rule
in their favor? It ran contrary to every personality trait Jara knew about
them. She would have expected the two to pursue their lawsuit until they had drained every last Vault credit in the Surina/Natch MultiReal
Fiefcorp's account, if only just to spite their dead cousin.

Had John Ridglee and Sen Sivv Sor been correct? Were the Surinas
scared? Did they suspect that Natch was about to show up and testify
against them?

Jara scanned the table at the faces of the fiefcorpers. Horvil looked
ready to abide by any decision Jara made; Vigal seemed to care little
about this case one way or another; Merri was ready to put this entire
distasteful MultiReal business behind her; Benyamin had the hardnosed expression of a man who knew a good deal when he saw one; and
Robby Robby's veneer of optimism showed no signs of cracking.

The fiefcorp master remembered her grandfather's words: You just
have to figure out what's important to you. Do that, and you're golden. Win,
lose, it's all the same. Sage advice indeed. The outcome of this trial was
inconsequential. What mattered was finding out who was behind this
desperate shift in strategy, what was causing the entire stink of peculiarity emanating from this case. Until Jara knew that, she would feel
no satisfaction, and the fiefcorp would not be able to move on.

It was time to stir things up. It was time to find out who was
pulling the strings.

"I'm sorry, Martika," said Jara. "You tell Suheil and Jayze that
we're not interested. No, better yet-you tell them these exact words:
Fuck no."

I I

Jara expected to dream of chess that night. She dropped off to sleep
with the foolish hope that such a dream might give her some kind of
subconscious insight into the identities of the players who had put this
game in motion. But instead of chess, she found herself fleeing across
a spare, storm-thrashed plain while forces unknown conducted a battle
of forked lightning above the clouds. Jara was only one of hundreds
running for shelter. Every time she turned to ask someone what was
going on, she would find that person engulfed in lethal electricity and
then charred to ash.

The fiefcorp master awoke before dawn and broke her fast in the
nitro bar across the street from the hotel where she and Horvil were
staying. After perusing the news (more Council clashes, TubeCo labor
disputes, a baffling dip in the criminal black code traffic on 49th
Heaven), Jara woke the engineer up and they prepped themselves for
another day in court. She put on her nicest pantsuit, while Horvil
splurged on an expensive bio/logic musk for no apparent reason.

"Something's different today," said Jara as they left the hotel.

"Like what?" said Horvil, sniffing absently at his wrist.

"I don't-I don't know."

She remembered Natch making bizarre pronouncements like this
when he was in charge of the fiefcorp, and she remembered equally
well her disdainful reactions to them. How could you feel what the
markets were going to do? Why pay heed to a sudden intuition with
no logical underpinnings?

And now Jara was experiencing this oracular sixth sense herself. It
defied explanation. There were too many officers in the white robe and
yellow star on the streets of Andra Pradesh, and they were distributed
in a little too random a fashion. Pedestrians seemed to scoot out of the paths of the tube trains at just the right instant, as if performing an
intricate choreographed dance. The sun peeked out from behind the
morning clouds and bathed the courthouse in its yellow rays right as
Jara rounded the corner....

The fiefcorp master stopped, grabbed Horvil by the elbow. "Wait
a second."

Horvil gave her a perplexed look. "What?"

"Martika's expecting the Surinas to rest their case this morning,
right?"

"Right."

"If Natch does show up as a surprise witness, like John Ridglee
thought-wouldn't today be the day he's going to do it?" The fiefcorp
master pointed ever so slightly in the direction of three Council officers lounging on the opposite corner. They appeared to be on high
alert, though given the hostility between Len Borda and Magan Kai
Lee, that was hardly surprising. "And if Ridglee knows that Natch is
planning to show up here today, isn't it possible that word might have
leaked to the Council too?"

"I suppose," admitted Horvil dubiously.

"Can you do me a favor?" asked Jara, taking the engineer's left
hand between two of hers. "It's just a hunch. But can you talk to your
Aunt Berilla, see if she'll send a few of those Creed Elan security people
here? You know, the ones that bailed us out of the Tul Jabbor
Complex?"

She could tell that Horvil was holding an internal debate about
whether to resist her request, or at least ask for a better rationale. But
after a few seconds of hesitation, he pursed his lips, stepped over to the
shade of a tenement building, and slipped into a Confidential Whisper
conversation. Five minutes later, he was back. "It wasn't easy," said
Horvil, "but they'll be here within an hour."

"Thanks, Horv."

The two made their way across the street to the courthouse. It was practically a cathedral of Surina family worship, tall and gothic in
design with an imposing statue of Sheldon Surina himself standing
watch over the entrance. Horvil and Jara entered the building and
found their way to the main courtroom. With its multiple balconies
and seating for nearly two hundred, it looked more suitable for an
opera than a legal hearing. Jara half expected to see a gaudy wroughtiron chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

Horvil and Jara took their seats at the defense table alongside an
obviously peeved Martika Korella. She grunted a terse "Perfection"
their way before burying her nose in a document projected on the
tabletop. It was doubtful that Merri, Benyamin, or Vigal would show
up today, which left the three of them to confront the small battalion
of lawyers and Surina family attendants sitting with Suheil and Jayze
at the plaintiffs' table. Horvil offered the Surinas a good-morning
smile. Jayze pointedly ignored him, while Suheil responded with an
ill-humored grimace you might expect from the villain in a Juan
Nguyen drama.