Mirage

Nineteen

Mia forced herself to walk across the apartment again, her right leg aching in protest, pain stabbing up to her hip with each step. Sweat pooled at the base of her spine and around her neck.

"Please refrain from further exercise, Ms. Daventri," R. Je

"I understand your duty, Je

"You could also cause further injury to yourself and extend that period of confinement."

Mia came up against the wall and paused, breathing hard. "Are you medically qualified to diagnose, Je

"I am certified for nursing and emergency medical administration."

"But…?"

"I do not have the same qualifications as a medical specialist."

Mia turned and let her back rest against the wall. The sofa was maybe four meters away. "Then kindly let me decide for myself how much I can manage."

R. Je

Mia launched herself toward the sofa. The pain made each step seem to take forever. She staggered the distance and fell onto the pillows.

She lay very still while her leg gradually stopped hurting. When she felt able to move again, it was only a dull throb, like a bad bruise. The painkillers in her system did not eliminate the aches completely, but seemed to work on a graduated system designed to keep her from overdoing physical activity. As long as she remained relatively motionless, the sensation was there but distant, like a strained muscle. The more she worked it, though, the more it hurt. She supposed that was a good thing, otherwise she might stress it to the point of reinjuring it.

Spacer thinking.

R. Je

"Thanks," she said.

"Will you be stationery now?" R. Je

"Yes. I think that's enough for the time being."

"Is there anything more I can do for you?"

"No, not yet. Has Ariel called in?"

"No, Ms. Daventri."

"Call me Mia, please. Let me know as soon as she does."

"Of course."

R. Je

The water felt wonderful going down her throat.

She straightened on the sofa and looked across the living room. It was a good twelve meters wide and she had managed ten laps, one side to the other. Yesterday she had only managed six. Good progress by any measure, but Mia was impatient with her slow healing. She needed to be mobile. Too much longer in this apartment, in the dutybound company of R. Je

Eliton. She wondered now about that dream. Even if they managed to discover who had engineered the assassinations, it seemed thoroughly dead, the true victim of the violence.

On the table before her the datum showed the signal notation WORKING. The algorithm had been ru

For instance, the fact that not one of the DyNan Manual Industries people had been shot.

Going over and over the recordings from the newscams, Mia returned to that oddity time after time. She had had Bogard run trajectory analysis several times, and she could not explain away the curious fact that no shots had been directed at any member of the DyNan party. There had been only three executives and one security, but they had been right alongside Imbitek and Porvan-StandardMech, another company that built supplemental technologies like conveyors, lifters, tractors, and a variety of other moving equipment. Two people in the Imbitek group had been wounded and three people in the PSM group, plus one dead. In spite of being sandwiched between these two, Rega Loom's people had survived untouched.

Unable to go to them to ask her questions, Mia worked the data.

Now that she was satisfied that none of the injuries and deaths had been accidental, that indeed the assassins had been good enough to hit exactly what they aimed at, she found herself trying to figure out what each victim meant in the scheme of cause and effect.

Humadros and Eliton represented the primary targets, obviously. Without them, the conference died, even though several parties worked valiantly to keep it alive. There would be a meeting, certainly, but how much could realistically be accomplished now? The bulk of Humadros's legation had died. Those remaining were junior members, more diplomats-in-training and gophers than real negotiators. Of course, there was the anomaly of Ariel's acquaintance, Tro Aspil, being both dead and en route back to Aurora, but even he had not been a significant member of the legation, not in the larger schema.

All of Eliton's security people.

Including her.

Why? Did they represent the only honest group within Special Service? As easy as it was to think that way, it was unlikely. But Mattu and Gel and Mia were the most likely to figure out the inconsistencies in the cover-up. It had been a matter of expedience to close off that avenue of trouble immediately. They had missed Mia in the Gallery, possibly the only shot that had gone wild.

Or maybe not. Maybe they had wanted her alive to frame, along with Bogard. Easy enough to do.

Then why the attack on the hospital? Second thoughts? Correcting a mistake?

Safer to believe that she was a target all along.

Eliton's staff-two people-were dead. Along with five members of Humadros's team killed, that totalled thirteen. One dead in the PSM party. Fourteen. The other seven?

Crol Dushek, head of the Solarian Legation, and two of his aides. Seventeen. The three Aurorans from the embassy here. Twenty.

The last one still seemed anomalous: a woman named Viansa Risher, who at first had no apparent reason to be on the platform. She had been a member of the Settler's Transport Committee, a division of the Settler's Coalition, a bureaucrat with no direct co

When Mia called up newsnet articles, though, she discovered that Risher's presence had been significant indeed. The Settler Worlds had demanded a seat at the table from the first a

Twenty-one officially dead (or twenty, depending on Eliton's actual status). Thirty-three wounded. Fifty-five actual shots fired. Who among the thirty-three had they intended to kill?

And why no one in the DyNan Manual Industries party?

The screen on her datum continued to show WORKING.. Mia finished her water, staring at it, waiting.

Ariel's com registered another call. Mia hobbled over and sat down. She had scrolled through the growing list of messages, worried. Three from Ambassador Setaris, two from Delegate Korolin, five from her aide, Hofton, one from Senator Taprin…

This one was from Coren Lanra, the security for the DyNan group.

Mia killed the visual and pressed ACCEPT.

"Ariel Burgess."

"Oh, Ms. Burgess." Lanra's voice was nasal and a little rough. "I tried your office already but they told me you weren't in-"

"So you called me here. How did you obtain this number?"

"I'm Coren Lanra, security for DyNan Manual Industries."

He said it as if it explained everything. Mia felt herself smile despite her a

"Well…" He sounded unsure now. This was not the kind of response he had expected, obviously. "I had hoped we could discuss the incident at Union Station."

"Is there a reason you want to discuss it with me?"

"I've tried to talk to several other people at your embassy, but no one seems to have the time. Understandable, with three of Ambassador Setaris's immediate staff dead. But I've been working down the list. I thought I'd give up when I reached the maintenance department."

"Our maintenance is handled by robots, Mr. Lanra."

"Yes, well, as I said."

"I still need a reason."

Lanra said nothing for several seconds and Mia began to think he would simply excuse himself and go away.

"There are certain…" he said finally,"… irregularities… about what happened."

"Concerning?"

"My employers, for one."

Mia chewed her lip. "You mean like the fact that none of DyNan's people were injured?"