The Administration Series (186 page)

"Glad to hear it." Toreth smiled in satisfaction and hoped it looked at least a little like sympathy. "Well, I'm here, as promised. What's the plan?" Carnac was bound to have a plan, probably several, and he wanted to make sure he knew what they all were.

"The main priority is to return all facets of I&I to operational status as quickly as possible. Interrogation has been given a higher priority than investigation. I have a great deal to accomplish elsewhere, so I shall be leaving the organisation to your good self."

"Suits me. I need the authority to do it."

"You have it. I have given you operational authority over all the Division sections. And security clearance to match, although I must warn you that the computers and various other systems are suffering assorted problems."

Yeah, your bastard friends trashed them on the way through. "I'm sure I can work round it."

"I have every confidence in you. That only leaves the question of what you ought to be called. How does Acting Assistant Director sound?"

Toreth gave it five seconds' consideration, which was four more than it merited. "No way."

Carnac affected surprise. "Wouldn't you like a promotion?"

"To Assistant Director? As in 'Head Scapegoat' when this blows over and everything gets back to normal? Thanks for the offer, but no thanks."

"The circumstances of the appointment might be slightly irregular, but there is no reason that it should not become permanent. You will need a title of some kind."

"I've already got one — Senior Para. It means something around here, at least to the people you want me to drag into line."

"I'm afraid that the Service people will not find it so impressive."

"Then I'll have to keep sending them to you to get it sorted out, until you get sick of dealing with it and issue them an order to do what I tell them. Or you could save a lot of aggravation by doing it now. It'll make them happy — they like orders."

Carnac smiled and shook his head. "Did I ever tell you how much I enjoyed working with you?"

"Probably. But I'll bet I didn't say that I believed you."

Brief, tense silence, then Carnac glanced down at his screen. "I have a lot to do."

"Me too, so I'll go and get on with it, shall I?"

"Don't do anything yet. There is a substantial Service presence in the building, as you may have noticed. I have yet to spread news of your arrival in all the appropriate quarters, and I need to appoint you a Service liaison to make sure that your position here is understood and you are not obstructed in your endeavours."

"Thanks." Something between a bodyguard and a watchdog — just what he needed.

"Wait until he arrives before you start, ah, throwing your weight around." Carnac smiled again, his gaze flicking over Toreth, whose skin tried to crawl away.

"Okay, I'll wait for him. But don't take too long."

On his way out of the office, Toreth looked round the mainly Service personnel waiting to see Carnac, and wondered which lucky soul had been selected as his 'personal liaison' this time. There might be someone out there who would enjoy being used as Carnac's private fuck toy, but he couldn't imagine who.

Toreth gravitated naturally to his own office — for one thing it was far enough away from Carnac's that if he stormed off there in a temper he might've calmed down by the time he arrived. Moreover, the idea of Carnac being able to drop in on him casually was unappealing to say the least.

It was also familiar, and he knew where everything was, which helped him keep a grip on what
he
was: a senior para-investigator. He mustn't let Carnac's promises tempt him.

The first thing to do was to sort out the chaos. Nothing much seemed to be seriously damaged — even the computer screen was still functional — but furniture had been overturned and the contents of drawers scattered. His chair was broken, so he took one of the admin's from the main office. There was no one there except him, and he wondered what had happened to his team and to the others in the section. Sara would know about the admins — with luck he'd be able to find out about the rest down in the cells.

Once the office was tidy, he was tempted to go down to the detention facility straight away and try to get things moving. However, there was no point antagonising Carnac unnecessarily. There'd no doubt be plenty of necessary opportunities later.

In any case, he needed to prepare before he went down there. The first part of this would be the trickiest, and if he messed it up he might as well resign today and beg a job from Warrick. He sat down (back at his desk, after five days) and started work.

He'd just completed preparations when someone tapped on the door.

"Come in."

A man in a Service lieutenant's uniform opened the door, and hesitated briefly before entering — presumably the promised liaison. Younger than he'd expected, or possibly Toreth was feeling old today. Brown hair, slightly gangly, unfinished-looking body that he still seemed to be trying to grow into. Nice arse.

"And you are?" Toreth asked.

"Lieutenant Payne, sir."

Toreth must've stared, because the man spelled it out, then said, "Lieutenant Jay Payne."

"Jesus. Someone with a sense of humour sent you here, then."

The lieutenant didn't smile. "Possibly, sir. I just do what I'm told, where I'm told to do it."

"Good. Then we should get on fine. What did Carnac tell you to do in this case?"

"To report here and place myself under your orders, until told otherwise."

"Did he explain my position here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well?"

"You have operational authority over I&I, which I'm to make clear to anyone who questions it."

Well, if that was true then Carnac had been as good as his word. Of course, there were undoubtedly other orders that the lieutenant wasn't mentioning.

"Right. We're going down to Detention first, and if that goes all right we'll have a look at a couple of other places. Then you can take over one of the offices up here — no need to share since there's so much space — and you can help me find out what we've got to work with. Does that sounds okay to you?"

"Yes, sir."

The personnel in the main detention facility control centre were a mix of Service, civilian (meaning resister) and a handful of I&I. The latter, even the ones he didn't already know, could be distinguished by their generally nervous demeanour. The ones who didn't look nervous Toreth marked down as probably treasonous. Not that it mattered any more, of course — it was purely for personal interest.

The facility itself was in a better state than he'd expected — many of the consoles had been damaged and jury-rigged repairs were evident everywhere, but lights and screens were on. Most importantly, the main cell monitoring screen, running the length of one wall, was active.

Blood still in evidence, he noticed — plenty of splashes here and there, and dull swirls over the grey plastic of the floor where more had been cleaned up. The smell of it thickened the dry, processed air, inadequately hidden by the usual underground levels' mask of disinfectant.

"Excuse me." He raised his voice. "If I could have everyone's attention over here."

He waited until the occupants of the room had gathered loosely round. "Who's in charge here?"

As he'd feared, there was a pregnant pause. "In that case, who's in charge and
isn't
here?"

One of the Service personnel stepped forwards. "Major Bell took personal command of the detention operation."

"Where is he?"

"As far as I know, er —" He glanced at Payne, and Toreth saw the lieutenant nod. "As far as I know, sir,
she
is away from the building."

Good start. "Fine. I'll speak to her on her return." It made things easier in a way, but he'd have to make sure Carnac put the Service major in her proper place (i.e., somewhere else) as soon as possible. "My name — as some of you might know — is Senior Para-investigator Val Toreth."

That drew a reaction, not a friendly one, amongst the majority of the crowd, and he felt glad that he'd waited for Payne before he came down here.

"Carnac — Socioanalyst Carnac — has now put me in charge of getting things sorted out down here. If anyone has a problem with that, I'm not interested. Waste his time with it, not mine." He gave them a brief space for objections, but no one spoke. "For now, I'd like a few questions answered and a few things done. The first thing I want to know is who's in which cell, and what condition they're in."

This time he let the silence stretch out. He knew they wouldn't be able to do it, but he wanted someone to say so.

Finally one of the men he'd pegged as I&I and probably loyal stepped forwards. "I'm afraid we don't have the occupancy status available, Para."

He affected surprise and disappointment. "An approximate status will do . . .?"

"Senior Security Officer Adams." Adams shrugged, spread his hands. "I can only tell you what I've seen during searches for named prisoners. The occupancy is probably thirty to forty percent paras and interrogators. The rest is mostly investigators or security officers, but there are medics, admins, technicians, maintenance — anyone who openly sided with interrogation staff or put up resistance. We were told that they're all to be considered political criminals, regardless of occupation."

For fighting for their lives? He kept his voice coolly professional. "Numbers?"

"There's nothing, Para. Not even a bad guess."

"Then I suggest you organise cell-to-cell monitoring and
count
people. While you're doing it, you can make medical priority estimates."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Para. The building surveillance was the first thing knocked out in the takeover. Amongst the first things, anyway." Adams pushed his hair back, revealing an impressive bruise on his temple. "Selective damage, but very thorough. The maintenance techs are restoring it piecemeal as best they can, but it's going to be a long job."

"I understand." Well, selective system damage confirmed his guess about inside traitors. "Moving on — lights in the cells. Why aren't there any? I assume the systems are down?"

No answer. Eyes began to slide away from his as he looked slowly around the room. The I&I staff were the first to look down. He took a deep breath, and the stab of pain from his ribs helped diffuse the anger. Grabbing the turncoat bastards by the throats and smashing their faces into the nearest console wouldn't achieve anything, beyond immense personal satisfaction.

"Then switch them on again, right now." He waited until Adams activated the systems. "Good. Put them back on the fourteen-ten in every cell, unless there is a damn good reason for an exception. Short-shift the first light period to get it on schedule. How about water and food? Heating?"

More silence. "Is anyone even looking at the systems? No? Okay — who are the technical officers here? There must be some."

Half a dozen men and women stepped forwards, moving to form a small, nervous group. Toreth looked them over, picked out a woman he recognised and whom he hoped was loyal. "Wheeler —" He glanced at Adams, caught a slight nod. "Tell me what's going on."

"We were told to concentrate on the surveillance, Para. The major's orders."

"How long before it's restored?"

"Down here, days. All over the building, it could be weeks."

"Then a delay won't matter. Wheeler, you're now in charge of restoring the cell systems. This is what I want: water, heat, food, surveillance, in that order. We can worry about the rest afterwards. I also want daily progress reports, and I want to see progress in them."

"Now —" He took a hand screen from his pocket and paged through until he found the version that best matched the circumstances. "I need a volunteer to read this over the cell comms. Assuming we have cell comms."

The nearest technician nodded. "They're functional, as far as we know. If you'd like to read it yourself, Para . . ."

He'd been hoping someone would ask. "No, I wouldn't. Because the first voice they hear is going to be identified with the bastards who kicked the shit out of them, locked them up in there, and left them in the pitch dark for five days, cold, frightened, hungry, thirsty and in pain. And it'll also be the voice that tells them that the same bastards aren't going to open the doors right now and let them out."

He looked round the crowd. A few of them were angry or insulted, but most were looking uncomfortable again at the idea that there were real people out there, really suffering. Good. He knew all about prisoner depersonalization theory.

"For obvious reasons, that voice isn't going to be mine. You." He picked out one of the civilian types. "You're going to read it."

The woman shook her head. "Not me."

Perfect. He smiled at her, and without looking round said, "Payne."

"That's an order. Senior Para-investigator Toreth has been granted operational authority by Socioanalyst Carnac."

"It's a simple choice — you can do what you're told, or you can get the fuck out of I&I." She flinched slightly, and Toreth looked around the room, then back to his selected victim. "That applies to you, and to everyone else in here."

He'd almost been hoping for a couple of walkouts, but no one moved. Spineless fucks. The woman he'd chosen took the screen from his hand and glanced around. "Which console?"

"Over there," Adams said.

She sat down and scanned down the screen. That showed some independence, or at least something of a sense of self-preservation. Adams activated the systems, and she coughed.

"Er. Attention, please. As you may have noticed, the lights have been switched on again. They are now on a normal schedule, and other services to the cells will be restored as soon as is practicable."

She looked over at Toreth, and he nodded at her to continue.

"I&I is now under the control of the new Administration, represented by Socioanalyst Carnac. The policy of the Administration is that there will be no summary executions and no further illegal ill treatment. The Administration requires the continued services of I&I and procedures are being put in place to expedite your release from detainment."