The Administration Series (185 page)

"Intruding in people's lives. I'd rather be patrolling the building, to be honest."

"So why aren't you?"

He shrugged. "I'm good at this role. I'm presentable and fairly unobtrusive. I get on with people. But I still don't like it — that's why I switched to consulting. Although at least I don't have to stay here off shift."

"But what about the curfew?"

"Oh, no, I meant here in the flat. We're sleeping in the building — most of the private security people are." Seeing her raised eyebrows, he said, "There are break rooms and a canteen down in the basement, for the building guards and the maintenance and other staff. The building supervisor's opened up her flat and another couple of unoccupied ones. It's pretty crowded down there, but I shouldn't complain." He looked at his watch. "I really ought to show an interest."

"No. It's only been few minutes — not long enough to start worrying."

"How long do you recommend?"

"Don't worry at all. They haven't killed each other yet. The worry is what kind of a mood they'll be in when they reappear, and you can tell that by how long it takes. If it's five, ten minutes, then they've argued, so stay out of the blast radius. If it's more than fifteen, they've argued and made up, and they're safe to approach."

He laughed. "Are you sure you should be telling me this kind of thing? What if you don't know when it started?"

"Ah, that's easy. If they're both smiling, then it's okay. If neither of them is, then it's bad news. If Toreth isn't smiling and Warrick's doing that . . . have you seen it? The thing that isn't a smile but uses the same muscles?"

"Oh yes, I've seen that one."

"That's a good time to start looking for cover until one or other of them clears out." She shrugged. "Except right now there's nowhere for either them to go. Better hope they make up."

Toreth closed the door behind him — closed this time, not slammed, because Warrick was playing cold and reasonable and Toreth didn't intend to lose at that game.

Warrick had already sat on the sofa under the window, looking so calm that Toreth barely restrained himself from going over and hitting him harder than either of them would enjoy. Safer to stand by the bed, his hands clenched behind his back, even though that made him think of I&I. He'd been lying in that fucking cell while Carnac was
here
.

Finally Warrick said, "The answer to the question is no."

"What question?"

"No, I didn't fuck Carnac. That's what you want to know, isn't it?"

"I don't —" He couldn't say that he didn't believe him, because Warrick would only point out that
he
wasn't the one who bent the truth on a regular basis. "If you didn't fuck him, why did you lie about him being here?"

"I didn't do that either. I will freely admit that I omitted to mention it, but that's not the same thing."

He ignored the attempted diversion into an argument over semantics. "So, why?"

"Because I knew that if I said anything about it you would react precisely like this."

"I'm not reacting like —" He took a deep breath and clenched his teeth at the stab of pain. When it subsided he said, "I wouldn't have done, if you'd told me to start with."

"Yes, you would. You can't honestly expect me to have forgotten the last time?" Warrick shook his head. "I don't understand why you have this . . . persistent idea that I find Carnac in the slightest bit attractive."

In a way, Toreth didn't either, other than that it was Carnac and the man
was
attractive, even when you knew what a bastard he was. Plus there was the other thing, the important thing. "You fucked him before."

"I slept with the man three or four times, more than fifteen years ago." Warrick breathed out, short and exasperated. "For God's sake, Toreth,
you've
fucked him more often, and considerably more recently, than I have. And, may I point out, you're proposing to go and work with him, back at I&I, presumably in the same office where you had your previous little liaison."

The open jealousy — and touch of anger — from Warrick cancelled out some of his own.

"I wouldn't fuck Carnac again if my life depended on it," Toreth said, which he knew for a fact, although he hadn't told Warrick the details of the encounter.

"And neither would I." Warrick sighed, and scrubbed his face with his hands. "So what the hell are we arguing about?"

"I have no idea." The anger drained out of him, like water through a sieve, leaving the ache in his ribs and a bone-deep exhaustion. "Just give me some more painkillers, tell me what he was doing here, and then let's get back to sleep."

Warrick found the tablets while Toreth undressed again, then joined him in bed, sitting up a little way away, watching him.

"So what happened?" Toreth said.

"He called the day it started. All he said was that he needed somewhere to stay, and with the trouble going on in the city, of course I said yes. He didn't tell me then that he had anything to do with it." Warrick shook his head. "I assume he didn't trust me, although I suspect he didn't entirely trust his revolutionary friends, either. Neither to manage things right in the first place, nor to keep control of the general uprising if it did succeed. I was a safe house that none of them knew about. By the time he told me that he was involved . . . "

"Yes?"

"By then I knew what had happened at I&I. I didn't think it would be helpful to antagonise him by throwing him out onto the street. Once the troopers appeared and it became obvious things were going his friends' way, he left. He's at a hotel near the Int-Sec complex."

He had to ask again, even at the risk of pissing Warrick off even more, as well as sounding pathetic. "And nothing . . . happened?"

"Not a thing. He didn't even offer. I expect that even if he might still be interested under normal circumstances, he had other things on his mind. He slept in the spare room, and during the day we discussed the sim, when I wasn't busy trying increasingly improbable ways to get access to some active comm channels." Warrick smiled slightly. "Ask the security guards if you wish. I expect they would've noticed anything else, given my propensity for noise."

Toreth nodded. He believed him, really. It was just that it was Carnac, and he didn't trust the man a centimetre. The fact that Warrick didn't want to fuck him didn't necessarily mean that it would never happen. The important thing was that it hadn't happened, not this time.

"So can we go back to sleep now?" Warrick asked. "If you're really intending to return to that place in the morning, you'd better get
some
sleep."

"Sounds great." He slid down between the sheets, relaxing into the embrace of the mattress. Despite his assorted aches, he'd never felt anything so comfortable in his life. "God, I dreamed about this, when I was in that fucking awful cell with Chev."

"Yes?" Warrick switched the light out and the bed shifted as he lay down.

"I thought I told you about it already, when we got to bed the first time?" Toreth asked.

"You must've dreamed that too — you were asleep by the time I'd undressed."

"Was I? Probably. It's all a bit hazy from halfway through dinner, to be honest. So much for fucking me, not my job. Pity."

Warrick laughed and touched his shoulder. "Is that a request?"

Toreth thought about it, and the idea definitely appealed, but his body was already mostly asleep, with his brain fast catching up. "No. Making offers I can't live up to. Sorry."

"Don't be." Warrick's hand closed over his arm. "Having you here, and in almost one piece, is more than enough."

"Funny, that's exactly what I was thinking." He turned onto his side, careful of his ribs, and pressed his face into the pillow, breathing in the scent of clean cotton and Warrick. "Mmh. When I was on the floor, in those bloody handcuffs. Don't know how you can get such a kick out of the fucking things."

"The circumstances are somewhat different."

"Yeah, 'course. I know. Anyway, I was dreaming about this — except it feels even better than I thought it would. Fucking fantastic. Clean sheets. You."

Warrick moved across and kissed him gently, exactly as he'd imagined. Soft cotton and warm skin against him, soothing and luxurious. Hand on his back, touching carefully. He had a moment of fear that
this
was the dream, that soon he would wake up in the cell.

Then a noise distracted him: distant firing in the city. He tensed, and Warrick's hand stroked a circle over his shoulder-blade. More firing, but it was nothing to do with him. Nothing to worry about, even if he could manage it. Safe, here.

He recaptured the tail end of a thought, before it disappeared into sleep. "Just you. 'S enough."

If Warrick said anything in reply, Toreth didn't hear it.

In the morning, Warrick insisted that he borrow the AERC car, and Toreth accepted gratefully. He certainly wasn't up to the walk, even if it had been safe. He'd hoped to slip out of the flat before Sara woke, but she must have set an alarm, because she came out of her room as he was leaving. She looked hollow-eyed but determined.

"Wait for me. I'll be two minutes. I just need to grab something for breakfast."

"No. Go back to bed — you're staying here."

Before the rebellion in her eyes could get any further, he put his hands on her shoulders. "Sara, listen. They were shooting people there a couple of days ago — maybe yesterday too. Let me go and check it out, make sure it's not going to start up again. I promise you can come in tomorrow if it's safe."

Maybe by tomorrow, they'd have finished clearing the bodies away. He wouldn't have time today to cope with her crying all over the place.

Eventually, she nodded. "I could do with finding some new clothes." She smoothed her jacket. "It'll be a nuisance to have to wash everything every night."

Thank God she was going to be reasonable. There would doubtless be enough stress today without kicking off with a scene here. "Good idea."

"And I have to collect Bastard. If he's alive."

"Don't be stupid, of course he is. He's far too fucking evil to die."

She glared at him, although her exhaustion was evident in how poor an effort it was. "He'll be so scared, poor baby, not knowing where I am or what's happened to the flat."

He'd long ago given up trying to shake that particular delusion. "Yeah, he must be terrified." And so must everything he's met. "But you won't go on your own, will you?"

"No, of course not. Rob said he'd help me look — he went off shift at two but he's going to come back up for me at lunchtime. We're going to get Bastard, and then we're going to mum and dad's to check they're okay."

"That'll be fun for him." Rob, was it? Toreth gave it a moment's thought, then decided that it wasn't worth taking Sara in to I&I just to keep her away from McLean. Anyway, Bastard would be in a fouler temper than usual if no one had been feeding it — an encounter with the psychotic monstrosity should be enough to put anyone off.

The idea of McLean trying to entrap an irate Bastard improved his mood no end. "You'd better take some antiseptic with you."

"What? Why?"

"In case Bastard's been hurt, of course."

There was a moment of, if not precisely fear, then certainly unease, as he presented his ID to the guard on the main door. Evidently the automatic internal security systems were out or had been switched off until the new occupants of the building could be authorised. The guard looked to be Service and as he examined the ID his face showed a flicker of surprise. Probably wondering what a para was doing loose and trying to get
into
the building. However, Carnac must have arranged things, because the man opened the door without comment.

It felt strange, crossing the foyer, nodding to the receptionists, none of whom he recognised. Walking through the building, surrounded by more strangers, was even odder. The difficulty of the job he'd accepted began to sink in. He had not only to persuade the I&I staff to work with and for the people responsible for the revolt, but also the reverse — to make at least some of these outsiders into part of the Division. Replacement staff would have to come from somewhere.

He remembered how difficult it had been simply to integrate the Investigation and Interrogation Divisions into one, and the disruption now was on an entirely different scale to the old reorganisation. Justice, he thought sourly, would be delighted by the turmoil at Int-Sec in general and I&I in particular. Departmental politics could turn out to be a bigger headache than the damage to the building.

Carnac had taken over the director's office. The previous occupant's effects had been cleared away, leaving the room rather Spartan. The only personal touch was a small but expensive-looking chess set on the wide desk. Toreth wondered briefly if Carnac played, or if he just liked the image.

Carnac himself looked uncomfortable in the generously-sized chair — probably due to Sara's parting gift rather than any defect in the upholstery.

"'Morning. How are you?" Toreth asked.

Carnac shifted and winced. "I'm taking a sufficient quantity of anti-inflammatories and painkillers to make the answer to that question at least publishable."