The Administration Series (27 page)

"Why?"

It was hard to take offence at the soft, plaintive question. "We're investigating the possibility that the sim itself caused the deaths of Jon Teffera and Kelly Jarvis — and now the Legislator."

"I see. Very well. There was a room she especially liked, a garden . . ."

He went through the session in surprisingly clear and careful detail, not looking at the camera, and with only occasional questioning required. A slushily romantic evening but Keilholtz seemed to have genuinely enjoyed it. To Toreth, it sounded dull enough to bore a user to death. On the other hand, he reflected, he wouldn't be fucking a sixty-two-year-old Legislator in the first place. Marian Tanit would probably have some choice questions for Keilholtz about his mother.

"I left first," Keilholtz said when he reached the end of his account. "She liked —" He shook his head, smiling slightly, although his eyes were bright with incipient tears. "She liked to tidy up in there. I used to tease her about it, because of course everything resets when the program ends, unless you save it deliberately. I unfastened my own straps, stood up, I went over and . . ."

He stopped, swallowing hard. Toreth waited.

"I went over and loosened Pearl's straps, so she'd be able to get out easily. Then I left her and went through to the bedroom. I started running a bath for her. Then I sat on the bed for a few minutes. I felt a little sick, from the sim — I often do. When the bath was full, I turned the sheets down, put the lights on by the bed, and — " He was crying now, making no attempt to hide it or wipe away the tears.

"By then she'd usually come through, so I — I went back to the sim room. Her eyes were open but she wasn't breathing. She was so still. I couldn't — I didn't know, right away. Or I couldn't believe it, maybe. I touched her face and then — "

He stopped. The only sounds in the small, sparse room were his rough breathing and the muffled voices from the rest of the house.

"Then?" Toreth prompted.

"Oh. Yes. I — oh, I called security first, I think, and then the medics, or maybe it was the other way round, and I tried to do something — to get her heart started, to make her breathe." Keilholtz wiped his cheeks with the palm of his hand. "I'm afraid I'm not sure about the exact order. I usually have a very good memory but — no. It's all confused. I'm sorry."

Toreth drank his cooling coffee, giving Keilholtz a moment to compose himself while he considered the story.

"You said that her eyes were open?"

Keilholtz nodded.

"Does that mean that the visor was up when you entered the room?"

However hazy his recollections of later events, he answered that without hesitation. "Yes. And her left hand was —" He let his arm dangle over the arm of the sofa. "Like that. The rest of the straps were in place, I think, because I had to undo them to — to get her free."

So similar to Kelly. This was stretching the realms of coincidence too far, and the sim room here was as secure as the one at SimTech.

"Could anyone have come through the bedroom while you were running the bath?"

He shook his head. "All I did was start the bath and then I went straight back into the bedroom. Besides, as I said, the sim room opens only for Pearl and myself. I had to leave — I had to leave her to let security in."

"So you're quite certain there were only the two of you there?"

"Absolutely." Then, before Toreth could speak again, Keilholtz said, "Do you know what was in the Legislator's will, Para-investigator?"

Toreth, who had been considering asking Keilholtz something very similar, blinked, then shook his head.

"I do." Keilholtz's voice was cold. "Pearl had three children, a daughter and two sons, by her estranged husband. Everything goes to them."

"Nothing at all to you?"

"A handful of personal gifts, nothing extravagant. Our letters. My gifts to her. Otherwise, not a thing." He gestured round the room. "I don't even have any right to stay here. I'll start packing up my things here as soon as your people have finished. I have a flat of my own, although I'm renting it out at the moment."

"You don't get on with her kids?"

"As it happens, we get on very well. They had no objection to our relationship." He lifted his chin. "But I always wanted to make it clear why I was with Pearl, to her more than to anyone else. I couldn't prove it wasn't career ambition — although it wasn't — but I could very definitely prove it had nothing to do with money. I never took a cent from her and I won't start now she's gone."

"I didn't — "

"No, but you were about to." Keilholtz smiled slightly. "I spend a lot of time in meetings, Para-investigator, watching people think. It's one of the reasons I was happy to keep our relationship secret. It's not pleasant knowing that people are looking at you and wondering. Assuming an ulterior motive. I had none. I loved her — that's all there was to it."

Oddly, Toreth believed him. Of course he'd still verify the will story, and then he'd run a credit check on the man to make sure he hadn't received any unexpectedly large payments from unknown sources lately.

Time to get back to the rest of the house.

"Does SimTech have any other champions in the Legislature?" he asked before he put the camera away.

Keilholtz smiled sourly. "Not that I know of. And certainly not right now. Para-investigator, Pearl Nissim had a great many friends there — if the sim had anything at all to do with her death, I can promise you that SimTech is finished."

The emergency meeting at SimTech took place after lunch. News of Nissim's death had spread quickly round the building. The directors had discussed making it an open staff meeting, but in the end they agreed that it would be best to speak to the senior staff first. When they had assembled, rather cramped, in the soundproofed conference room, Warrick opened the meeting with a blunt question.

"Do you think that we ought to suspend work in the sim?"

He had expected a rush of responses, but the room stayed silent except for the low hum of the air-conditioning, switching itself on to deal with the heat of so many bodies. Warrick looked round the table, finding all eyes on him. Almost all — Lew was staring down at the table, frowning.

"Three people have died," Warrick continued. "Personally, I do not believe that the sim had anything at all to do with their deaths
directly
. I say that not because of pride in my work, or because we can't afford a delay in the programme, but because I think it's safe. I
know
it's safe. My personal belief is that SimTech is suffering a particularly unpleasant corporate sabotage attempt. Closing the sim is tantamount to unconditional surrender to that attack."

Asher cleared her throat. "A suspension now would be a disaster from the point of view of the sponsors. I've been reassuring them that there is no problem, that we're confident it's corporate. If we close everything, we're as good as admitting that we think the sim is at fault."

"Would another death be any better for them?" Jin Li Yang asked.

Lew looked up. "We've taken all the units outside the AERC off line, and from now on no one here will be allowed to use the sim without at least two other people in the room and not in the sim. We've put a security guard on all the sim suite doors and installed surveillance. No one can get into a sim room, or once inside do anything unmonitored."

Nods and murmurs of agreement rippled around the table, although Yang didn't join in. However, these were the long-serving senior staff — those most committed to the corporation. How the junior staff and students would feel about continuing to work in the sim was the question.

Looking round, Warrick noticed Marian also assessing the room. Odd that she had made no objection, no comment at all, when she was the one person he'd expected to say something.

"What do you think, Dr Tanit?" Warrick asked.

"Me?" She looked a little startled by the question.

"What do you think would be best for morale?"

"Morale?" Now she smiled slightly. "Overall, I would recommend reemphasising that sim work is voluntary. Forcing people to work in it would be damaging. From a commercial point of view," she added, placing the words with precision, "continuing on a voluntary basis is clearly the best option. If all work is suspended and staff believe that SimTech is going to fold, they'll start looking for other jobs." She shrugged. "Nothing you didn't already know."

Warrick nodded. "Thank you. And I think the idea is a good one. Is it acceptable to everyone?" General nods. "Very well. We'll send round a message to the staff reiterating the directors' confidence in the sim, and making it clear that they are free to refuse to work in it, with no stigma attached to refusing. Asher, if you could inform the sponsors of that decision."

The difficult part over, Warrick looked round the room. Not the happiest gathering he'd ever seen, but things could have gone worse. Now for a brief demonstration of corporate director hypocrisy.

"One more thing, while you're all here. I have evidence that someone — or more likely several someones — have been accessing test data." Evidence he'd found while examining the supposedly closed files himself. "As you know, I&I have sealed all the data for the duration of the investigation. I do very much appreciate the efforts everyone is making for SimTech, but I don't want anyone to end up at I&I answering unfriendly questions."

Beside him, Marcus shifted in his chair. Warrick looked from face to face as he talked, searching faces. Yang, for one, glanced down at the table as Warrick caught his eye.

"So," Warrick finished, "if you could pass on to your staff that while I&I is here we play very much by their rules. Thank you."

The three directors sat at the table as the rest of the senior staff filed out. Yang stayed behind, still seated.

When the rest had gone, Warrick asked, "Well?"

"Uh. I wanted to talk to you about — " With their undivided attention on him, Yang coloured slightly, then sat up straighter. "Are you sure the sim is safe?" he asked, a little too loudly.

"Absolutely," Warrick said. He glanced at his fellow directors. Lew nodded firmly, and Asher a little less emphatically. "There is no danger from the sim. I meant every word I said."

Yang hesitated, then said, "Still, I'd like to stop work in the sim. If it was just me . . . but I have to think about my family."

Warrick waited for any comments from the others before he spoke. However, as he expected, they stayed silent. Yang was a programmer, and hence his to deal with. "I understand completely. The decision is yours, as I said."

Yang smiled with relief. "Thanks. I don't mean I won't work in the sim again. I just — I thought about taking some time off. A few days. Then I wouldn't need to mention anything to anyone."

Warrick shook his head. "That's not necessary. If you want time off, take it. But don't do it for that reason alone."

He nodded. "Even so. I have to think about things. And, well, my wife would prefer me to stay at home. It's just for — " He shrugged and stood up, not looking at any of them. "Thank you, again."

They watched him go in silence.

When the door had closed behind him, Lew sniffed. "He's going to leave."

Warrick's own thought, spoken aloud. "Yes. At least if things aren't cleared up soon. And he won't be the only one, whatever rules we pass about the sim, and whatever Marian says about morale." He turned to Asher. "How much longer can we last financially?"

She expanded her hand screen, opened a page, then abruptly collapsed the screen and dropped it onto the table. "In two months we'll have run out of money," she said bluntly. "After that, we can't pay the staff. At that point we fold, or we take whatever deal we can get."

"Anything new from the sponsors?" Warrick asked.

"Yes. Three messages this morning withdrawing their current terms. Two of them say that they'll submit something new. The proposed terms were already unacceptable and our position is only weakening."

Lew nodded. "So even if SimTech survives, we'll lose control?"

"Yes — and that's assuming that anyone wants it." Asher sighed. "The rumour that the sim is killing users is everywhere. Not so much rumour as well-known fact, now."

"P-Leisure?" Warrick suggested. Their biggest hope.

"I called before the meeting. They're still 'reviewing their options'. It's so — " She slapped the table with the flat of her hand, and even Lew jumped slightly at the un-Asher-like display of anger. "It's so damn
frustrating
. Caprice asked me twice whether there was any evidence the sim was responsible. Unfortunately, the contract doesn't require them to submit anything for another six weeks."

Warrick shook his head. "Too late."

"That's about the size of it. We are, as Greg would say, thoroughly fucked." Asher slumped in her seat, and Warrick noticed for the first time how exhausted she looked. He'd been too preoccupied to see it before.

"How much sleep have you had recently?" he asked.

She smiled, which only emphasised the tiredness. "Not a lot."

"Then go home and get some now, once you've told the sponsors about the new arrangements. Everything else will wait until tomorrow. We don't want to make any quick decisions anyway."

After a moment, she nodded. "I might, at that. Maybe things will look different in the morning."

Lew rose. "Well, they'd better look different
soon
, or it'll be too damn late."