Robert Charrette - Arthur 03 - A Knight Among Knaves (37 page)

"Shall we get right to business, Mr. Hagen?"

"I am at your disposal, Ms. Martinez."

"Good. Let's start with you telling me what has motivated your renewed interest in the
Wisteria
killer."

The sensors registered only mild surprise. He shrugged. "The creature itself is of little consequence. It has, however, apparently been harnessed by interests at odds with our own. That is what must concern us."

"Us? Why not return the matter to the police? Didn't you originally declare it a matter for them?"

"I did. Unfortunately, the situation is now beyond their competence, the scope of this matter having broadened considerably. The creature, or possibly merely the study of the thing, has opened new avenues for its controllers."

New avenues? Van Dieman had used the same phrase last night. "Just what do you mean?"

"You have not read the new analyses that I posted to you tills morning?"

She hadn't, but it would not do to admit that. "Maybe I just want to hear you say it out loud."

"Out of character for you," he said with a brief, sly smile. "What is important is that the particular otherworldly intrusion dubbed the
Wisteria
killer has become inextricably connected to one individual in particular. That individual belongs to a rival organization, an organization with programs addressing the redevelopment of magic in the world."

"Names, Mr. Hagen."

"Anton Van Dieman. Metadynamics."

What connection? Pamela wished she had read Hagen's report. "Give me the highlights."

"We can now correlate the
Wisteria
killer's most recent activity tightly with the presence of Van Dieman. It stalks whatever city he is in. We believe that this is the final proof necessary to confirm that Van Dieman is magically active. I lis potential as a threat has greatly increased.

'During the period of Van Dieman's association with the creature, several affiliates of Metadynamics, including Van

Dieman's own Network Securities Corporation, have shown interest in occult matters: recruiting psychics, acquiring property where or near where we have documented other-world intrusions, building databases of unexplained phenomena, and even collecting specimens of unnatural beings. They have made no overt moves to match your own formation of Thaumatechnics, but such a move can only be a matter of time. Commercial rivalry, however, may turn out to be inconsequential. We have disturbing reports of Metadynam-ics activity around several of the sites associated with Quetzal."

God, would that specter never be laid to rest? "Including Nakaguchi's resonator sites?"

"Every one."

That was the answer she hadn't wanted to hear. Gower hadn't yet puzzled out the complete purpose of those arcane devices, but he was certain that they would have a deleterious effect on their immediate areas, possibly on the world as a whole. The resonators were, in Gower's words, "aligned with the malign." If Van Dieman and MetaD were involved in activating those things, perhaps they too were aligned with the malign. "Van Dieman is advising the FSA on Dark Glass, isn't he?"

Hagen nodded. "You begin to appreciate how dire the situation has become."

Appreciate? No. You needed hard facts to appreciate a situation. But did she feel dread? Yes. You didn't need facts to be afraid. "If you and your cabal have been following these developments, why didn't you act sooner?"

"We believed that the situation was under control. We miscalculated. The matter has now gotten out of hand."

Now
gotten out of hand? "You
have
been conducting an operation."

"Not utilizing Mitsutomo assets, I assure you."

The chair said that his statement was truth, ninety percent certainty. Still, he was officially a member of the Keiretsu family. Actions that brought blame to him brought blame on

the Keiretsu. The scandal involving Nakaguchi was still fresh. She did not want to have to deal with another rogue.

"I will not support illegal actions," she told him.

"Have times changed, Ms. Martinez? No, don't take offense. I understand. Hie problem is that Van Dieman is leaving the country. It would be easier to stop him here."

"Then he wasn't on the plane at Logan."

"He was there." Truth again. "Else there would have been no need to shoot it down."

Hagen knew too much to avoid the obvious conclusion. "The NSC aircraft bombing was your operation?"

"It would have been better had the gunner let the craft get over the bay."

Not only did he not deny the attempt, he gave her additional details. "So you tried to Mil him and failed. Now you want the Keiretsu to get involved. Are you sure Sorli hasn't come back to run operations for your cabal? How many innocent people did you kill? How many more did you endanger?"

"How many more will
he
kill? That is the question that must be asked, Ms. Martinez. Make no mistake; he must be slopped."

The creature certainly needed to be stopped. But Van Die-man? "We don't even understand the threat he poses."

"All the more reason to stop him."

A paranoid's logic. Still, she was not surprised by the siatement. She recognized the determination in Hagen without needing it confirmed by the monitor. "You will proceed with your plans whether I offer aid or not."

"Yes."

"The Keiretsu cannot be involved in the murder of business rivals."

Hagen looked disappointed.

Van Dieman might or might not be a dire threat. The killer creature certainly was dangerous. She had long ago learned that what one could not control, one might still direct. That seemed the only course left her, unless she wished to adopt dwarvish tactics.

"An attempt to eliminate the
Wisteria
killer would be a worthwhile endeavor. Very public-spirited. Especially if documented. It is conceivable that the creature might claim another victim before it could be stopped."

"Ah, Ms. Martinez, I must confess that for a moment I doubted you. I am ashamed. You are a most perspicacious employer."

"Mr. Hagen, as a perspicacious employer I choose employees who are both wise and careful, those who understand the needs of the Keiretsu. You are still employed by the Keiretsu, yes? Do we understand each other?"

"I believe we do."

"I hope so, Mr. Hagen." She killed the monitor on the chair and tapped the control to open the office door. "Now, I think that it's back to work for both of us."

Holger felt much better when he awoke with the morning sun shining in the window of his room at the Pend Foundation headquarters building. He had gone to sleep apprehensive about sleeping in an unshielded room, but the dwarves had been as good as their word, and he had passed the night undisturbed by voices in his head. He was surprised at how light he felt with that burden lifted.

Unless, of course, they had lied about doing anything and the room
was
shielded against transmissions. But that was paranoia, wasn't it? It was hard to put away the paranoia alter living for so long in a world that it ruled.

Someone had entered the room unnoticed while he slept. That someone had recovered his stashed clothing and gear, mid brought it here. He didn't remember telling them about the stash, but he wouldn't be surprised if he had. He'd been strung out pretty far. He checked the pile. Everything was there, even his weapon. The fact that the Glock was loaded suggested a certain amount of trust on his hosts' part.

In among the gear was a Shilson Detector™, a device that would let him determine whether or not the room had any of the standard shielding schemes. Using it would say that he didn't trust the dwarves' word. Were they watching to see whether he did use it? Was that why his gear had been brought to him? If he used the device he would know whether the voices were gone or just taking a vacation. He
would
know that the dwarves had done him a good turn. But what did it say about him that he would prove their trustworthiness by such a distrustful method?

He needed to know, whatever they might think about him. He needed a point of reference. He needed to know whether his new acquaintances told truth or lies. If checking on them offended them, he could apologize, blaming his apparent distrust on caution. Contemplating his deceitful intent, he thought of Bear's trust in the dwarves. Bear believed them. Shouldn't that be good enough for Holger?

He wished it were. But not yet. Taking up the device, he ran the start-up diagnostic, then ran through the scan programs until he was sure that the room was clean of protections. The only localized electromagnetic disturbance was consistent with a security system monitoring the windows. Not the door, he noted. Not even a signature for a video camera.

They hadn't lied.

And he hadn't believed them.

He started when a loud knock sounded on the door. Ashamed to be caught with the device in his hand, he tossed it onto the pile before responding. Bear stood there, dressed in a Bard Taliesin T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off, sweatpants, and athletic shoes. He looked like an ex-pro athlete ready for a workout, but Holger knew better.

"How are you feeling?" Bear asked.

"Better than I have in weeks," Holger replied honestly.

"Good. Up for some exercise? I could use a partner. Ever work with a sword?"

"I've had a little bit of kendo, but I've done a lot of escrima work. The art uses sticks, but the principles are supposed to be applicable to swords."

"Escrima? Never heard of it." Bear shrugged. "But if you think it will work for you, we can give it a try. Sticks, you say? Long or short?"

"Short? Sometimes two."

"Two?" Bear nodded as if he understood. "Mostly edge work then."

"No edges. I said sticks, remember?"

"No edges, right. No points either. Sounds undisciplined. Even Vegetius understood the use of the point."

"Don't assume I don't."

Bear raised an eyebrow, then smiled. "This could be interesting. When you're dressed, the gym's at the end of the hall."

Holger didn't take long to dress, less time than it took to locate suitable clothing in the closet and bureau. They weren't his clothes, but they were sized to fit, a full wardrobe of business and casual clothing. His final selection was a sweatshirt emblazoned with the words "If found, return to CIA (drop in any mailbox)" surrounding what he recognized as the logo of the old spy organization.

Bear had left the gym door open and Holger followed the sounds of clanking weights. The gym wasn't big, but respectable for a private one. Half of it was crammed with assorted exercise machines, while the rest was open space lined with equipment cabinets. In one corner a new computer console gleamed amid a tangle of wires. An inner doorway led to a small locker room and beyond that was another space from which Holger could hear the sounds of a shower. Bear put down the weights and gave Holger the cheap tour. They ended at a set of cabinets full of wooden weapon replicas, padded garments, and plastic helmets, as well as more conventional fencing gear. Bear selected a suite of protective equipment for each of them and got Holger into his. Holger was helping Bear lace up his body armor when Wilson came out of the locker room.

"What do you two think you're doing?" the dwarf asked.

Bear hefted a wooden broadsword. "We're going to do a little sparring. A warrior has to stay in shape and keep his skills up. You never know when you're going to be in a fight."

"You want to fight, you use a gun. Swords! Swords have been out of style since before I was born." Wilson shook his head. "You spend too much time thinking retro, Art."

"And you spend too much time with machines," Bear retorted. "I intend to test Mr. Kun's mettle, and I intend to do it my way."

"All right, all right! Who am I to get in the way of archaic fixations? But before you get Mr. Kun all excited, let's take a precaution or two, eh?" Wilson went over to the computer console and came back with a handful of sensor pads. He held them out to Holger. "Here, put these on."

Suspicious but trying to remain polite, Holger asked, "What are they?"

"They're just ordinary medical sensors to monitor heart rate, perspiration level, stuff like that. You won't even know you're wearing them, but they'll let us know if you start shifting into overdrive. We don't want any training casualties."

"We'll be fine. It's just a friendly practice," Bear said. "Mr. Kun doesn't need your monitors."

"I think he does," Wilson said, staring resolutely at Bear. Bear glared back.

"I'll wear the monitors," Holger said.

"I will too," Bear said, taking them away from Wilson. "Where the hell do they go?"

Wilson helped them attach the monitors, then fussed at the console until he was satisfied that the sensors were functioning correctly. "All right then, we're set. Go ahead and beat each other silly. I'll be watching."

They finished donning their protective gear and went on to selecting their weapons. To Bear's surprise, Holger found several pairs of escrima sticks among the wooden weapons. When Holger pronounced them overly heavy, Bear said, "What did you expect from practice weapons?"