An Eighty Percent Solution - By Thomas Gondolfi Page 0,29
with a kind word and a smile. It didn’t seem to matter to you that I was a Nil.”
“Why should it?”
“It shouldn’t, but stop sidetracking me. I don’t know all the details, but what I see happening to you has all the earmarks of a top level megacorp hose job.
“Miss Carmine showed up at the club yesterday and talked to the boss. She passed him a stack of bills that even I couldn’t tear in half.” Jock lifted a velvet rope and passed another high class couple into the loud venue. “About ten minutes later I got my orders to keep you out. You add it up, sir.”
“Where would Carmine get that kind of money?”
“That’s what I mean, sir. Someone’s paying to put you down and that usually means the resources of a corp. I shouldn’t say any more. I’ve probably said too much already.”
“OK, Jock, I’ve got just one more question for you, please. Do you know how to get in touch with the GAM?”
“Sir?!”
“Sorry, I just thought you might know.”
“They’re violent. I don’t want any part of that.” Tony had seen Jock tear off the arm of one man for not responding to a less than subtle hint to leave a lady alone, and shoot another through the neck when the welf pulled a stun grenade. Violent or no, Jock didn’t know. Unfortunately.
“Jock, you’ve been a true friend. And for that I’ll always be grateful. I may look you up after I get myself settled.”
“I’d like that, sir.”
“You can knock off that ‘sir.’ I’m just plain Tony now.”
“OK, Tony.”
Tony didn’t offer him any money. What Jock had done was for friendship, and paying him would’ve convinced Jock that Tony was just another one of the masses—out for himself only. Tony knew it and Jock knew it. They parted honorable men, as only honorable men know how.
* * *
She knew the disposable percomm call would be traced. The Green Action Militia had learned from an ex-Metro, one of their own now, that it took one minute, fourteen seconds to trace such a call under the best of circumstances. Thus the GAM kept all calls under forty seconds and delivered their message crystal to a different person every time.
“This is the GAM,” she stated succinctly. “If you want to hear our statement, you will retrieve the recording crystal from the women’s restroom, fourth stall from the end, on your third floor. You have until someone flushes.”
Sometimes to mix things up they called anonymous tip hotlines, and once a media lawyer. The delivery location changed as well. Sometimes it arrived in place of the morning paper, and other times it might steer a person through seven levels of scavenger hunt.
They used only standard Fuji commercial recording crystals from a different supplier each time, picking a random device from each lot. Sonya purposely left her right pinky fingerprint on each crystal so they knew exactly whom they were dealing with. As no one had a name to match to that print or her epithelial DNA—except on other crystals—she stayed as safe as any other Nil.
Sonya dropped the ring comm to the ground and crushed it with her heel. To make certain, she stomped it three more times. She moved immediately to the edge of the not-yet-complete level 144 TriMet platform in downtown Corvallis. For security’s sake she needed to be at least a full 600 meters from this place in under a minute, the top response time of even Interpol.
The average Metro response time fell into the dismal category of days, but she had to assume they’d set a trap this one time and somehow knew exactly when she would transmit. With her survival—and that of the whole organization—at stake, Sonya played to win.
She took the easy way to get away quickly from the platform—she jumped. Her stomach once again reminded her that this wasn’t her favorite of tricks. The nausea never quite elicited regurgitation, but it always came close. Her mind silently counted to nine full seconds before her fingers wove a pattern in the air.
As she landed, at almost ninety meters per second, her body lit up like a miniature sun. The brightness receded rapidly, though she still glowed as she walked away. Waves of heat distortion also wreathed her as the kinetic impact energy flowed away. The few people at ground level who observed the flash or her new thermal aura chose wisely to mind their own business. People with that kind of power at their disposal didn’t make