Regenesis (96 page)

She pushed a button. She stored the orders, left them waiting in System on this side of the ocean. When the pipeline opened, it would open wide, and the chain would cascade in nanoseconds.

An hour later Catlin and Florian both lifted their heads from the console. “Awei is calling,” Florian said. “He says—now is the time, sera. He needs the data.”

The sequence was prepared. The orders were prepared. They’d probably lose System in Planys once the intruders retaliated. They’d very possibly lose a dozen personnel.

Execute
.

The order went out. Spanned the ocean. Touched off quiet alerts first, PlanysLabs staff to take cover—or take action, if they were linked into System; and certain azi staff staved potentially linked in, if they could.

System in Planys came all the way up. Took a snapshot. Locked doors. Located faces. Fired that information off to Reseune and Awei, and sounded the intrusion alert in Planys’ hallways—just to create maximum confusion.

Ari sat with chin on fist, looking at Planys’ readouts. A few went out, quickly extinguished. But the room where a major part of System actually sat was deeply buried, difficult to find. That was what Base One said about it…

Planys System was a lot like Base One. It moved. It created power-out conditions. It turned out lights. It locked and unlocked doors for a handful of agents whose faces the Planys System knew, individuals who could go like ghosts where they needed to go.

Meanwhile it produced maps for the general, and located vehicles, aircraft, personnel whose faces
weren’t
known to System.

The intruders figured out they were in trouble. Some eyes went out. Some stayed.

Florian and Catlin handled communications as needed. Amy hovered close, watching, in total silence.

They had found the Enemy.

S
EPT
9, 2424
1303
H

It wasn’t where Justin had planned to be, not at all where he wanted to be. The Council convened in a session open to the media, down at Reseune Airport—at the farthest remove from Reseune Admin they could manage, as he understood the intent; appearances. But things were still all on end, and though Councillor Corain had managed to get out of his hospital bed and show up for the session, using a chair for the most part, Yanni was having a heart replacement, and was in no shape to take the Science seat. Ari was holding the Information seat—had been besieged by reporters; it was their Bureau she represented, and Catherine Lao’s death was officially reported in Novgorod: yes, she said, she hoped to attend the funeral; so did all the Council.

Justin had his own share: did he count his appointment permanent, did he believe Yanni would resume the seat?—”I certainly look forward to that, ser,” he said, and having found one question he actually could answer, he felt a sort of calm settle over him like a blanket. Standing near the table that served as the official desk, he looked toward Grant, over by the door, caught his eye, and then realized that that was Paul, who’d just arrived by Grant, right next to young Sam Whitely, who’d just come in to meet Ari right before the session started.

And if Paul was here—

Jordan came into the room, quietly wearing the usual ugly tweed coat, stood there in camouflage…come to see his son take a Council post, or to see his old enemy’s replicate take her place on Council; or come to raise hell, Justin had no idea. At the moment Jordan exchanged a quiet word with Paul, and Paul with Grant.

Tap of the gavel. Time to settle. Ari had told him he shouldn’t sit yet. He had to
be
seated, by a vote. The Nine—eight, this afternoon. Ari among them, took their places, and Harad rapped the gavel—possibly even the real gavel—three times.

“Council is in session,” Harad said. “First item of business is to seat Justin Warrick as Proxy for Science. Does someone want to make the motion?”

“Moved,” Ari said.

“Seconded.” From Mikhail Corain.
That
constellation of agreements was a new one. Even a novice on Council knew that.

“All in favor. All opposed. None objecting, record a unanimous vote, Defense being absent this afternoon, no proxy in attendance.” The gavel banged. “
Second
item of business. The Councillor for Information is deceased, as of 0300h this morning. The Proxy for Information succeeds automatically to the seat.” Bang of the gavel. “
Third
item of business. The Proxy Councillor for Defense is deceased…”

A strong murmur broke out among the reporters, and the gavel went down again, twice.

“At 0211h on this date, Admiral Vladislaw Khalid was discovered dead in a hallway of PlanysLabs, along with four of his aides. A force of Marines acting directly under the command of General Klaus Awei landed at adjacent Pierce Field and Fleet Command at 0131h this morning, and General Awei is en route to Planys, pursuant to Council directives. General Awei will take personal command of operations at and near Pierce, pursuant to the Council Directive of the eighth of September, 2424.”

Understatement, Justin thought. It had been messy what happened at PlanysLabs: they’d gotten the images. And nobody officially knew who had shot Khalid, but Ari had told him privately it had been ReseuneSec, and they didn’t want any investigation, so Science should stand with her if there was any suggestion of it.

“There being no Councillor present for Defense, the Chair of the Council moves a resolution that if Councillor Jacques does not personally and within twenty-four hours make contact with Council, Council will deem that the seat for Defense is vacant and that the Secretary for Defense, Hariman Leontide, will serve pending elections in that Bureau. The Chair has received notice from General Awei’s office that he has begun a filing for that seat. We will accordingly be holding elections for Defense.”

That
was a lengthy process. Notice of filing had to reach all stations, a matter of months; and then anyone at those stations also filing had to communicate that news to reach all stations, for everybody’s consideration. Three months for campaigning, and the months of voting…not only for Defense, but also for Citizens. Corain was assuredly going to file to keep his seat, and the man who’d filed against him would have a hard time out-campaigning the long-serving Councillor who’d opposed Khalid in Novgorod, stowed away in a cargo container, and left a hospital bed to be here for today’s public session in front of the cameras. The opposition wasn’t going to top that one.

And there’d be elections in Information. Ari wanted to appoint another Proxy, and said she had in mind one of the senior reporters who’d been covering Reseune all her life; that man would then file for the seat—file for it, and win, if they were lucky. Reseune had had a lifelong ally in Catherine Lao, and without Lao—they needed an ally, to keep the balance on Council what it was.

Himself, he just hoped Yanni would get through recovery all right.

He caught Grant’s eye, while business proceeded. Didn’t quite look at Jordan, didn’t want to give him any encouragement, or start anything.

But Jordan had showed up. To see his son sit where he had wanted to be. Justin was convinced of it.

N
OVEMBER
24, 2424
0745
H

The tanks changed, contracted, tilted—
pushed
their contents out onto soft foam.

Abban AB and Seely AS came gently into the world within seconds of each other—were severed from the umbilicals, caught up in azi arms, encouraged to draw their first breaths, again, within seconds of each other.

They were wrapped in soft blankets, hugged in living arms, carried, separately to cradles, which, sealed, would speak to them reassuringly and insulate them from all shocks, all stress, on their way to the creches. They were not scheduled to meet for years. And then the records would see they did.

Giraud slid down into the tray—slid onto foam, startling sensation, and once the nurses had gotten him free of the umbilical, and gotten him breathing, Nelly wiped him vigorously and hugged him.

She was older, Nelly was, years older than when she’d been Ari’s nanny… Ari watched her with a little worry, a little jealousy still. Nelly was sweet, was what she was, just kind, and sweet, and loved babies until they got to be older, and contrary minded, and did things Nelly couldn’t understand. That was why Uncle Denys had had to send Nelly away from her—because she’d have driven Nelly into therapy.

She worried just a little that Giraud was going to be a handful for Nelly—but Nelly was experienced, no question, and she’d made the assignment herself; Yanni needed the help.

Nelly carried Giraud over to Yanni—put the blanket-wrapped bundle into Yanni’s arms, and Yanni, thin from his recent ordeal, and ordered not to lift heavy things, took up a hell of a burden, took it up as gingerly as if it were a ticking bomb, and then moved the blanket to look in its face, and touched it, and was, Ari thought, pretty well committed. Yanni had found arguments against it. But there was nobody better, nobody in all the world, who’d know how to keep ahead of Giraud Nye. For the next few months, Nelly would do most of the work.

And that was that. Giraud was in the world. He had his CIT number from birth—the law had changed; she was why it had. He’d be Giraud Nye from this day on, and systems would recognize him—if they weren’t locked against him; and they were, thank God and Base One.

She cast a look at Florian and Catlin as they fell in with her, on her way out of the labs. “I think we’ll walk across,” she said. She’d had enough of the tunnels. “It’s a sunny day.”

“You didn’t bring enough coat, sera,” Florian said.

“I won’t freeze,” she said.

There might be a nip in the morning air, weather advisories said so. But the pale sun had warmth, still, in autumn.

They went out in the daylight, under Cyteen’s morning sky. There was color still in the east, a warm blush of dawn on the cliffs that rimmed Reseune, and a gentle breeze was moving. Florian was right, the coat wasn’t quite enough, and the chill got through, but that was proof the world was random and she was alive in it.

That was all she asked of the day.