“How did it go?” Kohei asked when Yuri got back to his Sydney office.
Yuri slumped into the chair behind his desk. Boris switched all the darkened screens back on, which showed the same mass of data as before—and still told him nothing.
“Question for you,” he said to his deputy. “You’re a criminal, in the middle of a serious criminal act, and someone assaults you. Who do you complain to? And what do you say? ‘While I was trying to sabotage a hundred million wattdollars’ worth of equipment, someone beat the crap out of me, then threatened me so badly I’m terrified for my life.’ ”
“You cut a deal,” Kohei said immediately. “You get into the witness protection program in exchange for testifying.”
“Nice theory. In practice, witness protection is for organized crime informants who can bring down whole cartels. Somehow I doubt some radical hothead smashing up our equipment is going to be given that same deal.”
“You mean Akkar’s eco-radicals who tried to bust up our super trucks?”
“I do indeed. They were rounded up by a Connexion Security subdivision called Arizona S and E. It’s a paramilitary group we use for crowd control in bad urban disturbances.”
“Do they have the authority to operate in Australia?”
“Yes. They’ve got an office registered here in the building, actually, and a private police license issued by the government. That allows them to detain persons found committing a criminal act. They then hand them over to the local justice department along with evidence of the alleged felony.”
“Neat,” Kohei said approvingly. “And if the suspects are held incommunicado?”
“Then who’s going to notice them missing?” Yuri concluded. He massaged his temples again, which made no difference to the fatigue draining the energy from his muscles and thoughts. “There were over a hundred and twenty of them.”
“Including Savi?”
“Given the way I was warned off, yes. But…a hundred and twenty people, maybe more. One of them has to have a family or friends kicking up a fuss. Poi can’t vanish them with impunity. Can she?”
“Were there actually any witnesses?” Kohei asked. “It all happened out at the old airfield. That’s ours.”
“And New York has all the logs.”
“Shit, Poi Li’s thorough.”
“Akkar’s people will be well chosen activists, totally dedicated. The last thing they’ll do before going on a raid like this is tell anyone. So it’s going to be days before anyone even asks where they are. Weeks before there’s any concern raised. And even if you can get some friendly official to start investigating on your behalf, there’s no evidence linking them. No one apart from us knows the size of the group. As self-generating cover-ups go, it’s impressive.”
“You can’t rendition that many people in this day and age,” Kohei said. “The holding location would leak. Some smartass would fly a drone over it.”
“I can’t believe Poi Li would cut us out without reason,” Yuri replied. “We know Arizona S and E picked Savi up right after the explosion. And Poi Li swears the Arizona guys haven’t screwed up. She claims she checked personally.”
“So she’s running scared of the media getting hold of this? Christ, chief, what do they do to these people? Are we working for psychopaths?”
“I don’t know—and that’s bad whatever way you look at it. If Savi died because they didn’t give her medical treatment quickly enough, why not just give us her body back? Why leave it like this? It doesn’t make any sense!”
“So do we pack it in?”
“Savi is one of mine.” Yuri closed his eyes, fighting the fatigue that was stopping him thinking straight. “I’m going home to catch some sleep. I need a clear head to figure out what to do next.”
—
Callum stepped out of the Kintore portal hub onto Main Street. It was midafternoon, and the town had been roasting under the desert sun for more than ten hours. He wasn’t prepared for the heat, nor the dry, scratchy dust he inhaled with every breath. Sweat emerged from every pore, and he was only wearing shorts and a purple t-shirt—along with factor fifty sunblock. He fumbled in his shoulder bag for his new surgical-style mask and slipped it on.
Apollo threw a navmap up on his screen sunglasses, and he began to walk down the street, following the direction graphics. There were very few of the dust-tarnished buildings with a second story. Why would you bother? Single-story prefabs were cheaper and land more so; if you wanted a big house here, you just spread outward. Or at least land had been cheap until a week ago, when the ice started to fall across the desert.