The Administration Series (205 page)

"You mean I should walk away and let the fucker win?"

"Yes. He gave you the chance before, he'll do it again."

"No. No fucking way. No fucking way in hell. Clear?"

"Admirably." Cool and precise.

That left only one important question. "Are you going to tell him that I know?"

Warrick looked down at the grass, pulling virtual blades between his fingers, releasing a faint scent of mint into the already sickly air. Eventually, he shook his head. "No. But it's not necessary. Not where that place is concerned."

"What the fuck do you know about us?"

"I'm not claiming a comprehensive knowledge of I&I, but I do know that if you try to implement any kind of plot again Carnac, he will find out about it. There will be too many people involved. And — " He began placing his words carefully, like fragile crystal, which was always a bad sign. "Someone told me once about the psychological profile of interrogators and para-investigators. I can't provide a citation, but it's not one conducive to successful conspiracies where personal danger is involved. Someone will betray the plan in the hope of saving their own skin."

Toreth stared at him, speechless with fury.

"If you still want my opinion and advice, then — " Warrick shrugged. "You know what it is."

Fuck you, basically.

Warrick lifted his hand, his fingers moving to click for the control panel. Toreth leaned forwards and grabbed his wrist. "I'm going to stop him," he said quietly. "I'm going to think of something, and I'm going to make it work, and you're going to take back every fucking word of that and apologise for it, before I fucking touch you again."

Then he let him go.

Warrick snapped his fingers and the control console appeared in the air beside him. Toreth noticed distractedly that it had acquired a pink sugar trim.

"Ending the session now," Warrick said.

Back at the flat that evening, Warrick wasn't surprised to find only Sara there. She was in her room, packing. Bastard sat in a carrier cage on the bed, ears flat, growling intermittently.

"What happened?" she asked. "I've never seen him in a mood that bad."

It was obvious that she didn't mean the cat, which seemed to be in a perfectly normal state.

"We had an argument, that's all. Nothing more exciting than that. Has he gone already?"

"Yes — back to his flat. He said to tell you he's borrowed a few things and thanks for all the hospitality. Well, that's not how he phrased it, but it's what he meant."

Nothing more than he'd expected, but it still caused a tiny twinge of something. Irritation at Toreth's utterly predictable reaction, or possibly regret. He'd enjoyed having Toreth living here more than he ever imagined he would, even though they had both been exhausted for most of the time and had, in fact, seen surprisingly little of each other. Perhaps that had helped.

"You're welcome to stay, of course," he told her.

She shook her head. "I don't think that would be a good idea. You know what he's like."

"Jealous, irrational, demanding and utterly unreasonable covers most of the relevant attributes."

She grinned. "Just about. Do you want me to tell him anything tomorrow?"

"Thank you, but no. I think a cooling down period is in order. Do you have somewhere to go?"

"My sister said I could stay for a while. Have you ever met her?"

He shook his head.

"She's great — you'd like her." She smiled again. "And she'll let me creep in bed with her if I need to. Only problem is she's miles from work. Closer than mum and dad, but still a pain. I put in a housing request, but I bet it'll take forever. I might be back yet."

He wondered how much she knew about the events at I&I — everything, he guessed. Toreth hadn't specified that the admins were in danger. "You are always welcome. And . . . "

She put down the clothes she was holding. "What?"

"Should you wish to consider a change of employer, I'm always interested in talented administrative staff."

"Oh." She sat down on the bed. "So that was what you were arguing about. He asked you to help?"

"Yes. It seemed to come as a surprise to him that I declined."

"'Course it did. Oh, fuck. He's going to be . . . " She sighed. "It's always me who suffers for it, you know."

She wasn't entirely joking. "I'm sorry for that, at least."

"Forget it. I understand. I mean — I even think you're right. In a way, anyway — mostly the way that Carnac scares the shit out of me, to tell the truth. You know what he was like before, and that . . . "

"Was for his personal amusement, yes."

"He's going to enjoy this, too. God, in that interrogation room, he was so . . . " She shook her head. "I told Toreth we should shut the place down; at least that way everyone gets to live."

"And?"

"He said no." She frowned slightly. "And a few other things. Couldn't you talk him out of it?"

"I didn't really try."

"Why the hell not?"

A good question. "For one thing, I was sidetracked into, ah, losing my temper somewhat. For another, I don't see that it would have helped."

After a moment, she nodded. "Probably not. Carnac's got Toreth wound up so bloody tight about it, there's no way he's going to let it go.
I
don't want the bastard to get away with it either . . . but not enough to get killed trying to stop him. But as long as Toreth stays, I've got to stay with him."

He was, selfishly, glad. If he couldn't keep an eye on Toreth himself, he trusted Sara to do it for him. "The offer of a job remains open, indefinitely."

"Really?" She smiled. "I'll think about it — not just because of Carnac. It'd be fun, I bet, working at SimTech." She looked down at the bed, briefly, and he wondered whether to ask, because he suspected he knew the reason.

In the end he didn't need to, because she said, "Is McLean here?"

"I think he's off shift."

She sighed. "Oh. Figures." Before he could say anything she stood up, and continued folding clothes. "I ought to get going. I've got a pass, but it just gets worse later and the taxis will stop soon."

"Stay for dinner, at least. You can use the car."

"Yeah? Thanks."

While she was still there, he should try to get as much as he could out of her regarding Carnac's plan. He ought at least to know what Toreth was getting into.

Dinner had been as good as Warrick's cooking always was, although it had been a little spoiled by his subtle but unmistakable fishing for information. Since Toreth hadn't told her that much yet, she was saved the difficulty of not knowing what to pass on.

Afterwards, he helped her carry her things down to the garage and made her promise to come back, if she needed somewhere to stay. To her surprise, as he left, McLean appeared and joined her in the car.

"Warrick asked me to go with you," he said, as he closed the door.

A typically Warrick way of going about interfering in someone else's business — set up the situation, then retire from the scene and let them make of it whatever they would.

"Okay. Thanks." She moved across the seat, letting him sit beside her and thereby provoking a growl from the fortunately-caged Bastard.

After giving the car her sister's address, she sat back. She wasn't sure whether she was grateful for Warrick's initiative or not. She'd avoided speaking to McLean since she'd thrown him out of her room, with the vague idea that she would talk to him again at some point, when things were calmer, but they never had been. Certainly she had regretted the idea of leaving the flat without saying goodbye to him, which must be some kind of a hint.

He sat in professionally shielded silence, so to break the ice she said, "I hope you don't mind — Warrick said it was your night off."

"There's not a lot to do down in the staff accommodation, if you don't like playing cards."

"There's not a lot to do here either."

"We could talk," McLean said. "If you don't mind."

"What about?"

"Well, to start with, the things I said before."

She waited, not prompting him. If he said he hadn't meant them, she would tell him to forget it. If people were going to have opinions, they should have them. An honest change of mind was all right; lying to get another fuck most definitely wasn't.

"Well, what I said before wasn't exactly tactful, considering where I was and what you'd been through. I'm sorry."

Honest enough to be going on with. "Good. I mean — thanks. It's okay."

He smiled. "Thanks. So . . . what now?"

Honesty in return seemed like the best policy. "I don't know. There's too much going on, with everything, and . . . I don't want to rush into any decisions."

That was designed to sound optimistic without promising anything, and it seemed to work because he nodded. "I understand. If you'd like to get together again, dinner or something, once the curfew's lifted, let me know? You can do your dating plan the wrong way round."

She smiled. "Yeah, sure. When everything's back to normal."

The rest of the journey passed in pleasant enough conversation, leaving her in a good enough mood that when they reached her sister's flat, she invited him in to meet Fee. However, he declined and, after walking her up to the door of the building, he left her there.

She lingered, watching him get back into the car and be driven away. She hadn't been sure before that he'd been serious in her bedroom. He really wanted there to be a 'what now' that wasn't simply another night or two. What did she want?

It felt too complicated for right now. Something else that could satisfyingly be blamed on Carnac, the bastard. If it hadn't been for this morning's bombshell, she might have been able to think things through sensibly. The idea crossed her mind that Rob would probably get on with Carnac — they certainly shared the same opinion of I&I.

On the other hand, so did Warrick, and somehow things worked out for him and Toreth. Not that they were much of a pattern for a normal relationship. She found herself envying them again, though, because despite all the fights and difficult compromises and, okay, the plain
weirdness
of what they had, they still had it. All she had was the cat grumbling in the cage at her feet.

Feeling sorry for herself again. She had family, and plenty of friends, and her job at I&I, which she loved — or had loved. The idea that she might seriously be thinking about changing her life because of the opinions of a one-night stand didn't appeal. Had she liked the sound of Warrick's offer because of Rob, or because of the fear she still felt every time she walked into I&I, every time she stepped into the lifts there — even every time she made a bloody coffee?

Or was it the new awareness of how fragile things were? A consciousness of time ticking past, brought on by four days of believing that it had nearly run out? Abandoning I&I could give her freedom from the fear, a new job, a new relationship. As Fee kept pointing out, she was getting older and . . . leave it. She'd think about it again, when imminent execution occupied less of her attention.

Picking up the cage, she pressed the comm. "Fee? Yeah, it's me."

The next day, Toreth had hoped to take some time off from I&I to devote to Carnac's threat, but he was tied to the building by the influx of prisoners. It didn't help that he now knew his response to the problem had played right into Carnac's hands. Every arrival reminded him of how beautifully he'd been manipulated — used — and brought another distracting surge of anger.

The newly released paras and interrogators presented a fresh set of headaches. A surprisingly large number of them had accepted the reemployment offer — or not that surprising, factoring in the common rumour that refusal was a shortcut to arrest and execution. After careful consideration, he hadn't tried too hard to dispel it. He needed the staff and the truth of the situation would become clear with time.

One way or another.

Interrogations had begun already, bringing still more trouble. He dealt with problems with the interrogation levels, with the cells, with the scarcity of drugs and the fact that the medical section had no space for prisoners. He'd even had a few people make it past Sara with complaints about broken furniture and missing admins. He told them, as politely as he could manage, to fuck off and tell someone who cared.

In his office, between work and interruptions to work, he thought about Carnac's plan. He talked it over briefly with Bevan, and later with Sara, but he didn't want to show either of them exactly how uncertain he was; Sara was frightened enough already, and he couldn't risk spooking Bevan. He wished he could discuss it with Warrick, but Warrick had made it absolutely clear what he thought about the situation and Toreth's own heat-of-the-moment declaration about apologies had destroyed any remaining possibility of a truce.

Briefly, he even considered whether Bell could be brought into play against Carnac. However, she despised I&I as much as he did — if she couldn't guarantee its loyalty to the Service, she'd happily let Carnac destroy it. Besides, once he told her anything, he might as well write what he knew in five-metre letters on the side of the building.