Re-Coil - J.T. Nicholas Page 0,74

I felt the old stirring, the hunger to serve a purpose beyond just myself and my own survival. And it didn’t hurt that my ass was on the line. “All the more reason for us to help,” I replied. “And all the more reason for Genetechnic to keep their end of the bargain. If we can get your insurance policy into place…” I trailed off. It wouldn’t be easy. We were headed to Genetechnic’s corporate offices on Pallah where, presumably, we’d be given physical backups of our cores per the terms of the contract we signed. And we’d have some time to stash them somewhere. That was all well and good, but how did we keep Genetechnic from just following along behind us and… rescinding any insurance policy we left behind. The kinds of institutions where we might deposit them were supposed to maintain privacy and not cave to corporate pressure. But when you could throw around the kind of credits that Genetechnic could, all bets were off.

Shay answered my unspoken question. “Don’t worry about the insurance policy. Bit’s working on it. I’ve got a plan. I’m more worried about him.”

I marveled at Shay’s avatar once more as it turned in my field of vision and pointed an unerring finger at Korben as he continued to give us the five-credit tour of Pallah.

“You worry about making sure we’re not permanently erased,” I offered. “I’ll worry about keeping our hides intact until you can. Fair enough?”

She smiled and it was like the sun coming up. “Yes, Carter,” she said. “That’s fair enough.”

* * *

The headquarters of the Genetechnic Corporation on Pallah was a relatively modest building, at least by dome standards. To eyes accustomed to station and ship living, it was palatial. It rose sixteen stories high and the prefab composite walls had been clad in a glossy stone façade. I could only assume it was some sort of local stone. No matter the expense of harvesting it from the wilds of Mars, it had to be cheaper than freighting it in from Earth proper. The boxy prefab structure had been dressed up some, not as much as the replicated ziggurat Korben had pointed out, but in addition to the stone façade, pillars had been constructed flanking the entryway and light sculptures meant to mimic fountains adorned the plaza in front of the building. If the “fountains” didn’t scream wealth quite as loudly as if they had been gushing with that most precious of resources—water—the plaza still spoke of deep, deep pockets. Earthers could afford elaborate campuses for their businesses, but when you were living in a dome, every cubic centimeter of space came at a premium. An outdoor area designed for no better purpose than to look nice and provide relaxation was a true luxury.

I might have enjoyed it more if it wasn’t for the tension I felt creeping into my shoulders as we walked down the carefully maintained paths through the low-moisture gardens, and made our way to the main entrance to the building. For all my assurances to Shay, I knew there was still a small chance that this was an elaborate setup, a way for Genetechnic to have us walk through their doors so they could put a much more convenient end to the troublesome crew that had uncovered their dirty little secrets.

“Security is going to want your sidearm,” Korben said as we passed through the doors and entered into the lobby.

“Not likely,” I responded. He grinned at me in return and there was a measure of respect in his eyes.

“Good,” he replied.

Security, in fact, did not request my sidearm, as we never made it to the security checkpoint that led to the banks of elevators. Instead, we were met in the lobby by a woman in a dark, business suit. She was attractive, in a sort of severe way. Most coils were—attractive that is—the severity was all the woman crammed within it. She carried an attaché case in one hand and wore a brusque frown upon her face.

“This is highly irregular,” she said, not to us, but rather to Korben.

The assassin shrugged. “Needs must. Strange bedfellows and all that.”

“Is that our backups?” Shay demanded, taking a step toward the woman. In her old coil, it might have come off as assertive. Wearing the body of a six-foot, well-built male, it came off as downright aggressive. To her credit, the suit didn’t so much as flinch.

“It is, Ms. Chan. Current to the moment you landed on Pallah