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Then there were the others. Sharon McIntyre, Emily Donato's mentor on the Committee, and Emily herself, her ringleted hair caught under a scarf so that she looked like she'd just been cleaning a stove. Kaufma
Raduga. And bringing up the rear of the group, the ancient
Mr. Saito. Saito was wearing a kind of Ben Franklin fur hat and bifocals, but he leaned on a tall knotted staff, like some hybridized Taoist hermit.
Then there were herself, and David, and Debra Emerson.
Not Committee members, but witnesses.
Cullen crunched to a stop in a leaf-strewn autumn glade.
They were meeting far from wires for security reasons. They'd even left their watchphones behind, in one of the farmhouses.
McIntyre and Raduga spread a large checkered picnic cloth.
Everyone shuffled into a circle and sat. They joined hands and sang a Rizome anthem. Then they ate.
It was fascinating to watch. The Committee really worked at it, that sense of community. They'd made a practice of living together for weeks on end. Doing each other's laundry, tending each other's kids. It was policy. They were elected, but once in power they were given wide authority and ex- pected to get on with it. For Rizome, getting on with it meant a more or less open, small-scale conspiracy.
Of course the fashion for gemeineschaft intensity came and went. Years ago, during Saito's period as CEO, there had been a legendary time when he'd taken the whole Committee to Hokkaido. When they rose before dawn to bathe naked in freezing waterfalls. And ate brown rice and, if rumor were true, had killed, butchered, and eaten a deer while living for three days in a cave. No one on the Committee had ever talked much about the experience afterward, but there was no denying that they'd become one hell of a group.
Of course that was the sort of bullshit half-legendry that clumped around any center of corporate power, but the Com- mittee fed the mystique. And Rizome instinctively fell back on gut-level solidarity in times of trouble.
It was far from perfect. You could see it by the way they were acting-the way, for instance, that de Valera and
Kaufma
It was a simple meal. Apples, bread, cheese, some "ham spread" that was obviously tailored scop. And mineral water.
Then they got to business-not calling anybody to order, but drifting into it, bit by bit.
They started with the F.A.C.T. They were more afraid of them than of Grenada. The Grenadians were thieving pirates, but at least they'd stayed in deep background, whereas the
F.A.C.T., whoever they were, had seriously embarrassed the company. Thanks to that, they had Vie
Rizome was determined to track down the F.A.C.T. They didn't expect that it would be simple or easy, but Rizome was a major multinational with thousands of associates and out- posts on five continents. They had contacts throughout the
Net and a tradition of patience. Sooner or later they would get at the truth. No matter who was hiding it.
The immediate target of suspicion was Singapore, either the Islamic Bank or the Singapore Government, though the lines between the two were blurry. No one doubted Singapore was capable of carrying out the killing in Galveston. Singa- pore had never signed the Vie
It was hard to understand, though, why they would pick a fight with Grenada, after agreeing to negotiate. Especially a rash provocation like the Stubbs killing, guaranteed to enrage
Grenada without doing real strategic damage. Singapore was arrogant, and technologically reckless, but no one had ever said they were stupid.
So the Committee agreed to suspend judgment while await- ing further evidence. There were too many possibilities at present, and to try to cover every every contingency would only bring paralysis. In the meantime they would move with the initiative, ignoring the terrorist communiqué.
FACT was obviously a threat, assuming FACT had a separate existence from the people they were already dealing with.
But they'd had a clear chance to kill a Rizome associate-
Laura-and had chosen not to take it. That was some small comfort.
The discussion moved to the Grenada situation.
"I don't see what we can do on the ground in Grenada that we can't manage over the Net," Raduga said.
"It's time we stopped making that false distinction!" de
Valera said. "With our newest online stuff-the tech Vie
Rizome associate in videoshades can be a cognitive spearhead for the entire company:..."
"We're not Vie
"We're in a one-down situation with Grenada now," said
Cullen. "We're not in a position to talk media invasion."
"Yes, Charlie," de Valera said, "but don't you see, that's exactly why it will work. We go in apologizing, but we come out indoctrinating.
Cullen frowned. "We're responsible for the death of one of their top people. This Winston Stubbs. It's. as if one of us had been killed. Like we'd lost Mr. Saito."
Simple words, but Laura could see it hit them. Cullen had a knack for pulling things down to human scale. They were wincing.
"That is why I should go to Grenada," Saito said. He never said much. He didn't need to.
"I don't like it," said Garcia-Meza. "Why make this an eye-for-eye situation? It's not our fault that the pirates have enemies. We didn't shoot them. And we are not one down, because they were never up on our level." Garcia-Meza was the hard-liner of the group. "I think this diplomatic approach was a mistake. You don't stop thieves by kissing them." He paused. "But I agree that we can't back out now. Our credibility's at stake."
"We can't allow this to degenerate into a gangster power struggle," Gauss declared. "We have to restore the trust that we went to such pains to establish. So we must convince
Grenada of three things: that it was not our doing, that we are still trustworthy, and that they can gain from cooperation with us. Not from confrontation."
That kind of plonking summation was typical of Gauss. He had killed the conversation. "I think Heinrich has hit it on the head," Cullen said at last. "But we can't do any of that convincing by remote control. We need to send people in who can press the flesh and get right on the Grenadians, hand to hand. Show them what we're made of, how we operate."
"All right," David said sharply. Laura was surprised.
She'd felt the pressure building, but she'd assumed he would let her pick the moment. "It's obvious," he said. "Laura and
I are the ones you need. Grenada knows us already, they've got dossiers on us a foot thick. And we were there when
Stubbs was killed. If you don't send us-the eyewitnesses- they're bound to wonder why not."
The Committee members were silent a moment-either wondering at his tone, or maybe appreciating the sacrifice.
"David and I feel responsible," Laura added. "Our luck's been bad so far, but we're willing to see the project through.
And we have no other assignments, since Galveston shut our
Lodge down."
Cullen looked unhappy. Not with them-with the situation.
"David, Laura, I appreciate that correct attitude. It's very courageous. I know you're aware of the danger. Better than we are, since you've seen it personally."