“We think there are up to fifteen industrial espionage groups currently operating here on Akitha, but most of them are only involved in theft. Judging by how infrequent these active sabotage attacks are, maybe one every six weeks, that suggests a lone team. They’re being cautious and covering their tracks well.”
“Okay. Do you keep track of all non-Utopial citizens in the Delta Pavonis system?”
“Certainly not,” Kruse said.
“Really? Connexion Corp can find anyone using their hubs—any time, any place.”
“Because Ainsley Zangari’s company is an oppressive component of the Universal plutocracy. Our portal transport network is public; we don’t spy on our citizens.”
“Yeah, you’ve got civil liberties busting out of your pants. I get it. How about: Can the public network be used to watch for individual people in an emergency?”
“Theoretically, yes,” Tyle said. Sie grinned at the annoyed glance Kruse directed at hir. “There’s a sensor on every portal. Even we need basic police procedures.”
“We’d need an order from the Superior Court,” Kruse said.
“You haven’t got one already?”
“We thought we could find these criminals through their digital signature.”
“Right. So talk to whoever you have to, and get a warrant.”
“A warrant for every non-Utopial in the Delta Pavonis system? I’m not sure we’d ever get that.”
“A warrant for every region when this team finally tracks down a possible location,” Kandara said. “That’s the absolute minimum we need here. Without that, we’re just wasting our time.”
Kruse nodded. “I’ll call my Bureau chief.” Sie went out onto the patio, leaning on the railing to stare down at the ocean with its distant towering islands.
Kandara looked around at the others. “Seriously, you’ve got nothing after three weeks?”
“I know,” Tyle said bitterly. “It’s a shit result. We’re not used to something of this magnitude.”
“Not just that,” Jessika said. “It’s the nature of the people we’re up against. They are very professional, and experienced. I keep telling the Bureau we should run an exchange program with equivalent Sol agencies; that way our operatives gain experience and understanding. But…”
“Too proud, huh?” Kandara guessed.
Everyone glanced out at the figure silhouetted at the end of the patio.
“Stubborn,” Oistad said. “Self-righteous. Needlessly independent. It’s a big thesaurus out there.”
Kandara looked at each of them around the table. “Have you guys ever worked together before?”
“This collaboration is bright shiny new,” Jessika said, and poured herself some more wine. “The Bureau brought us together because we’re the top of our respective fields. So that’s got to work well, right?”
“We do help each other,” Oistad said.
“Some,” Tyle said. He glanced out at Kruse. “We need direction.”
“It’s called leadership,” Oistad said, flinching. “You don’t get a lot of that here on consensus-world. I’m not criticizing. I love Akitha and what we’ve built here. The trouble is we have no familiarity in dealing with something at this level.”
“Yeah, I see that,” Kandara said. She stood up. “I need to think.”
“You’re not quitting, are you?” a worried Tyle asked.
“Don’t worry; I don’t give up on contracts I’ve agreed to. Professional pride. You’re stuck with me.”
—
Kandara’s room had a set of wide glass doors opening onto the overhang patio. She unlocked the clothes section of her bagez and let a house servez put everything away in the closet, except her dolphin-skin swimsuit. Her mind was racing as she slipped it on, running through everything the so-called team had given her. It wasn’t good. She was used to working with top-grade corporate security or deniable spooks with bottomless accounts of dark money.
The infinity pool was barely long enough to take five strokes before she had to flip. Warmer, too, than the one in her Rio gym.
After twenty minutes she took a breather, clinging on to the drop-edge of the pool, so she could look down across Naima. The boulevard lights were coming on as the sun dipped below the horizon, creating a wan blue-green haze over the coastal town. Out on the sea, sailing boats were making their way back to the marinas. All very peaceful and bijou.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” she told Zapata.
“In what way?”
“Shutting down factories is an inconvenience, but it’s not going to kill off Utopial society. In fact, all it’s done is wake them up to how shitty their digital defenses are. In another six months Akitha will be immune to sabotage.”
“Sabotage at this level. If digital attacks are thwarted, the perpetrator may step up a level to physical assaults.”
“Sure. So if you’re prepared to attack telomere vector production, why not go straight to inflicting physical damage? And while we’re at it, who the hell genuinely wants to smash a whole planet full of people back into the Stone Age?”
“There are a great many zealots with extreme ideologies, even today.”
“
“Is the human race not improving socially?”