Robert Charrette - Arthur 03 - A Knight Among Knaves (9 page)

"We must put the past behind us," said Kenji Kabashima.

Though Kabashima did the talking, his words were those of the elderly gentleman pictured on the screen to the left of Kabashima's: Hiroto Mitsutomo, the lord and master of Mitsutomo Corporation, the head of the greatest and most powerful of the world's megacorporations. The old man's participation in this vid conference was an honor.

Such honors had ended careers before now. She kept her expression correctly neutral.

"Your presentation on the Charybdis Project has been enlightening," Kabashima continued.

Not surprising, considering that the project had been Pamela's secret before it had become Nakaguchi's secret.

"Naturally, with such a complex subject, the ramifications will take some time to understand. For the moment, however, all the obvious questions appear to have been answered."

Not Pamela's. Was she still part of the Mitsutomo family?

Kabashima looked down, at a screen Pamela knew to be inset in the console in front of him. He would be receiving instructions there. The private screen allowed communication between master and mouthpiece without the embarrassing possibility of being overheard by other participants in the conference.

"At this time, Ms. Martinez," he began, "the board of Mit-sutomo Corporation would like to express its gratitude for the efficient way in which you have attended to Mitsutomo's interests. The situation is, perhaps, not the best, but some matters are beyond any person's control. This is a fact of life that must be accepted. Your dedication to the interests of the corporation is commendable."

Pamela bowed her head in humble acceptance of the compliment. The bow gave her a chance to hide the grin of relief that threatened to overwhelm her face.

"Mitsutomo's interests are our interests," Duncan Middleton said. Duncan was Pamela's personal assistant, and he had her confidence. He also had a screen much like Kabashima's prompter with which she could guide him if necessary, but she wasn't planning to use it. She would have preferred speaking for herself, but there were protocols that one observed when dealing with Mitsutomo-sama. The old man was quite conservative in some respects.

"Much has been done in connection with this Charybdis Project, but the matters involved seem to breed questions. Clearly, there is a continuing need of answers," Kabashima said. "Data are power, as Gates-sama might say. Mitsutomo Corporation is always in search of useful data."

"The Charybdis Project, if continued, seems likely to provide much useful data," Duncan said.

"Indeed, that is the opinion of the board as well. Ms. Martinez is hereby appointed
kansayaku
for the Charybdis Project. The project will continue under the supervision of the Board, with all funding approved directly by Mitsutomo-sama's office."

Pamela couldn't have hoped for a better outcome.

Kabashima leaned toward the video pickup. "Nakaguchi-san misunderstood his role. Such a regrettable error is unlikely to occur again,
neh?'

"Highly unlikely," Duncan replied.

In other words, Charybdis was Pamela's, but Pamela was Milsutomo's. She understood that. It was an arrangement she could live with.

IThis has been a most productive conference," Kabashima

Mid.

Most productive," Duncan agreed. Alter the requisite courtesies closed the conference, Pamela opened the monitoring line where Sheila Rearden waited.

"Recall your recording and enhance the reflections in K nbashima's eyes. I doubt the old man is unsophisticated enough to have sent his orders in the clear, but I want to be su
re
We can at least record the codes he uses." "Roger-double-dodger, boss lady." A most productive conference indeed.

CHAPTER
6

Putting down the coffee mug, Steve said, "Here you go, Gil. Radar says we've got a storm coming in."

"Thanks," Gil replied, taking possession of the steaming mug. It might be late spring down here, but spring in Antarctica was still too damn cold. She was supposed to be used to it by now. Well, at least the coffee was hot. Life-giving, healing warmth slid down her gullet as she swallowed. "A storm, you say?"

"Outer edge is coming across the Victoria Land now. Smart money says it'll be here in two hours, tops."

Steve might be military, but as a meteorologist he knew his stuff. Gil wasn't going to bet against him. "We've got two teams between Vickie and here. Should we call them in?"

"Put the word out. Sharon and her people will be able to make it back here no problem, but Jemal's team doesn't have a prayer. They'll have to batten down where they are. He should have listened to me when I told him he was going out too early. Call him first. They'll need all the time they have to get ready."

Why did Gil have to have commo duty just now? Dr. Jemal Dickinson was not someone she liked dealing with at the best of times. He wouldn't like losing time to the storm; he and his team had lost all of last season to storms. Alighieri, Dickinson's tel-op robot probe, was an expensive toy to have sitting around doing nothing when it was sup-

posed to be exploring volcanic craters and the corp sponsors didn't like to see their toys sitting around doing nothing. Of course the scientists riding herd on Alighieri didn't like sitting around, either, but they didn't sign the paychecks so their yelps wouldn't matter much. Just like last year.

Gill pulled up the communications link to Dickinson's remote. Signal monitors flashed to life on the edges of her screen showing the status of individual data streams piggy
backing
on the main transmission. The direct communications link was dark, and would stay that way until someone responded. Resignedly, Gil kept punching the call button,she watched the flashing digits and squiggly lines of the data monitors. Seeing that the video feed from the probe's cam-eras was running, she set up a subscreen to display the video transmission. The fuzzy false-color images from the probe's camera were more interesting than digital and graphical read-outs. She punched the call button some more, and watched jumpy pictures of shadowy rocks until Dickinson answered. As, she expected, he wasn't happy about being interrupted. And when she told him about the storm, he had some very colorful things to say, finishing with, "Alighieri's already running."

She knew that. "Can you call it back?"

"Don't be ridiculous. The sky is clear here."

If Steve was right, it wouldn't stay that way. "I thought I was being prudent by telling you."

I le started to tell her what he really thought that she was being, but a call from off-camera interrupted him. "Dr. Dickinson! I think you ought to see this."

"What now?" Exasperation filled Dickinson's voice.

"There's something strange going on around Alighieri."

Without a word to her, Dickinson left the range of the video pickup. Gil felt a bit exasperated herself. She checked Alighieri's video screen. Dickinson's team member was right. it looked as if something was moving near the probe. The images didn't make any sense to Gil and before she could puzzle them out, the image darkened and faded to black. She checked the feed. Nothing.

Dr. Dickinson got back on the line. "McMurdo Station, are you getting video?"

"Negative. Other data feeds are okay. What happened?"

"We're not sure. Are you seeing any other changes?"

"There's a slight but steady drop in ambient temperature. Air pressure's down too."

"Yes, yes. We're getting that too. Anything else?"

"Care to give me a clue as to what I'm looking for? Probe telemetry is not my field."

"Stand by." He was gone again.

Dickinson was an
annoying
man. Stand by for what?

The data feeds from the Alighieri probe winked out.

Surely not
that.
She looked for the biomonitors on Alighieri's tel-op operator. That link was down too. Dickinson would be a very unhappy man. if Alighieri had just fritzed out again.

Dickinson stormed into view of the video pickup. He raved at her. Gil tried to comply with his "requests" to find a clear bandwidth to reestablish data links, but everything seemed to be cluttered by the storm's interference.

"If it's this bad, you had better start battening down," she advised.

As he started to reply, a blistering indictment of her skill, the video began to flicker. She lost the video link entirely. Dickinson continued his insulting evaluation of her competence on audio alone. She tried to ignore him while she tried to reestablish the link. When the audio signal started to break up, she was almost relieved.

"The storm's going to cut commo," she tried to tell him, but he insisted, she thought, that the skies were still clear.

Well, from where she sat, the electromagnetic bands certainly weren't clear.

She bumped up the power, hoping to cut through the interference. She got through, sort of, but not to Dickinson. She found herself struggling to communicate with one of Dickin-son's team. The woman was hysterical, practically babbling.

It sounded to Gil like she was saying something about some kind of animal coming out of the crater. But that couldn't be
tight.
The on-again, off-again link didn't help. Gil's requests forclarification only brought more garbled replies. Another I most to signal power didn't help. The interference was getting worse. Something came through that sounded like a scream. But it couldn't be a scream; it had to be some kind of electronic feedback. There was nothing but static after that.

Looking at the dead screen, listening to the static hiss, Gil didn't know what else to do.

The storm must have moved in faster than Steve had predicted, if it had already cut communications. She hoped the disturbance was west of the mountains between McMurdo and the research site, because if it was on top of Dickinson's team, there were six people in real danger of having their hutts frozen off.

Could they send out a rescue verrie? Maybe Steve had an updated storm track that would tell her. Even if he didn't, he'd know what to do; he was a veteran of a dozen summers down here. She headed for the weather room and nearly ran into Steve in the corridor. His snow goggles were perched on his watch cap and he was pulling on his snow suit.

"Where are you going?"

"Going to go check the dish," he said. "That storm just dropped off the screen."

"What do you mean the storm's gone? It can't be. It just ate our commo link with Dr. Dickinson's team."

Steve shrugged. "It's gone. Vanished. Not there."

"You run diagnostics?"

"Sure. Everything's fine. Damnedest thing. Still got a track on the English verrie headed out to the seal station, but the storm's gone like it never was there."

"So there's something wrong with the dish." That had to be it. The storm was still out there fouling up communications.

"Must be." Twenty minutes later, he was back, chilled and puzzled. "Dish checks out okay. Still having trouble getting through to Jemal?"

She had been trying without success. "The airwaves are still fritzed. What's going on?"

"Damned if I know."

"Some kind of glitch in the radar?" It had to be. A storm couldn't rip up the electromagnetic bands like this one was doing and not show on radar.

"If there's a glitch, I can't find it. Wouldn't be the firstf time that happened, though." He shook his head ruefully. "If we've got a wild storm out there, you had better call Sharon and her people and tell them to get their butts back here. Better safe and all that." Gil agreed.

Three hours later, well after the storm should have arrived at McMurdo Station, the skies were still clear and the commo channels still fuzzed. Sharon's crew was back safe and sound, but Dr. Dickinson and his team remained incommunicado.

CHAPTER

7

"I don't understand why we're going to wherever the hell ii is you're taking us. Why aren't we in the otherworld already?" John asked.

Bennett didn't take his eyes from the road, but he did remove one hand from the steering wheel and make an airy pasture. "One cannot just cross over anywhere."

Oh, yeah?
"Dr. Spae says otherwise."

"Ah, yes, Dr. Spae. Quite the authority, isn't she?"

John didn't care for Bennett's sarcastic tone. "She knows a lot about magic."

"For a human."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She is quite talented. Again, for a human."

John was getting the drift. "But she's nothing much compared to an elf like you, hunh?"

Smiling, Bennett said, "No, she isn't. Not compared to an elf like either of us."

Despite the implied compliment, Bennett's put-down of Dr. Spae didn't sit well with John.

"He's right, John," Faye said.

John felt his face redden in embarrassment—he had almost forgotten that she was along. She was always very quiet around Bennett, and when an invisible person is quiet, there's not much to remind you of her presence. He felt even more embarrassed that she had broken her silence to chide him and side with Bennett. After all, wasn't Bennett the one who treated her like some kind of lesser life form? Well, maybe Bennett
was
right, but John didn't have to like the way Bennett expressed himself.