Re-Coil - J.T. Nicholas Page 0,69
steady as I could on his smug face.
“Well,” he continued, “Genetechnic traced you from Prospect to Daedalus easily enough. They were, by the way, quite surprised at how easily you dispatched the first assassin that was sent after you. That’s when they chose to employ me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to meet you on Daedalus—other engagements, you understand.”
“Other murders,” I replied.
“Yes,” he agreed amicably. “But we assumed that your branch managed to get you enough information to put you on the trail of one Malcolm Copeland, and that with Ms. Chan’s help, you were able to obtain information on Bliss and on the blanking effect it had.”
I was surprised Genetechnic had trusted the man to that extent. They’d already killed Chan and me—and the rest of the Persephone—once on the chance that we’d learn that. “If you’re a private contractor,” I asked, “why the hell did they tell you so much?”
“Please, Mr. Langston. I am a man of honor.”
“Meaning once you’re bought, you stay bought,” Chan said. Her voice was tight with anger.
“Exactly, Ms. Chan. Genetechnic knows they can trust me. My business is all word of mouth. Much, I suppose, like yours is. Your real business.” The assassin gave her a little shake.
“Fine,” I interjected, not wanting the two of them to get into a pissing contest. Not with that microwave emitter still dangerously close to Chan’s core. “And yeah, we tracked down Copeland and figured out about Bliss and the zombies. That led us to Ingles.” I spared a glance for the corporate slug. He had either passed out from the liquor or was doing a damn fine job of faking it. Right down to a little line of drool leaking from the corner of his lip. “He filled us in on the AI,” I added.
The assassin nodded. “Excellent. Then you have most of the important background details already. My compliments on your resourcefulness. To the ongoing developments, then.” He paused for a second as if he were considering how best to proceed. “Well. The nanite swarm has been challenging for Genetechnic to track, particularly without employing the resources of companies or polities whose technological proclivities lie in that particular direction. But the good people at the helm of the corporation are not without a certain degree of ingenuity. They have been closely monitoring all traffic in an expanding sphere from their best guess of an exit point from the shuttle.”
I nodded. That made sense. Whatever tech the nanite swarm boasted, they were still bound by the same laws of physics as the rest of us. Which meant there were limits to their propulsion and that they’d either need a source of fuel or the ability to hitch a ride at some point. I understood enough astrophysics to know that the challenges of monitoring all possible vectors for the swarm while simultaneously monitoring and projecting all human traffic that might cross paths with it were, no pun intended, astronomical. There were probably several banks of supercomputers somewhere right here on Mars dedicated to dealing with that math. “And now they’ve found something?” I half asked, half stated.
“Correct, Mr. Langston. A passenger liner, to be exact. Hundreds of souls. And it has gone dark. Dropped right off all the standard traffic grids.”
“Except for Genetechnic’s,” Chan said.
“Yes. Except for Genetechnic’s. The efforts put into monitoring the possible vectors of the swarm have proven valuable. The corporation believes that the swarm has taken up residence within the vessel. Plenty of humans to provide ‘Bliss’ to. Plenty of resources to reproduce. And evolve. Plenty of fuel. A perfect hive for the swarm.”
“A perfect breeding ground for the end of humanity,” Chan snarled. That was one thing her new coil did better than the old—the leonine features seemed custom-grown for snarling.
“If we allow it, perhaps,” the assassin agreed amicably. “I have no intention of allowing it.” He paused, considering. “So long as I get paid.”
“Why do you need us?” I asked. “I’m sure Genetechnic has their own corporate security. Hell, they took out the Persephone, so they’ve got to have at least one armed ship. Why not put a missile into the cruise ship and be done?”
“And lose out on all the profit potential?” Chan asked. “We couldn’t have that.”
“There is something to that,” the assassin agreed. “If nothing else, Genetechnic has invested a significant amount of capital in the research and development and would, I assume, appreciate an opportunity to study things more closely. Now that they know what they’re dealing with.”