Страница 10 из 90
«OK, run a make, track down the serial number. You know the procedure, whatever you can find on it.»
The start of the working day found me in the Governor's office. Our official introductory meeting, what should have been a cheery getting-to-know-you session, and I had to report the habitat's first ever murder to him. I tried to tell myself the day couldn't get worse. But I lacked faith.
The axial light-tube had resumed its usual blaze, turning the habitat cavern into a solid fantasy ideal of tropical wilderness. I did my best to ignore the view as Fasholé Nocord waved me into a seat before his antique wooden desk.
Eden's governor was in his mid-fifties, with a frame and vigour which suggested considerable genetic adaptation. I've grown adept at recognizing the signs over the years; for a start they all tend to be well educated, because even now it's really only the wealthy who can afford such treatments for their offspring. And health is paramount for them, the treatments always focus on boosting their immunology system, improving organ efficiency, dozens of subtle metabolic enhancements. They possess a presence, almost like a witch's glamour ; I suppose knowing they're not going to fall prey to disease and illness, that they'll almost certainly see out a century, gives them an impeccable self-confidence. Given their bearing, cosmetic adaptation is almost an irrelevance, certainly it's not as widespread. But in Fasholé Nocord's case I suspected an exception. His skin was just too black, the classically noble face too chiselled.
«Any progress?» he asked straight away.
«It's only been a couple of hours. I've got my officers working on various aspects; but they aren't used to this type of investigation. Come to that, there's never been a large-scale police investigation in Eden before. With the habitat's all-over sensory perception there's been no need until today.»
«How could it happen?»
«You tell me. I'm not an expert on this place yet.»
«Get a symbiont implant. Today. I don't know what the company was thinking of, sending you out here without one.»
«Yes, sir.»
His lips twitched into a rueful grin. «All right, Harvey, don't go all formal on me. If ever I needed anyone on my side, then it's you. The timing of this whole thing stinks.»
«Sir?»
He leant forward over the desk, hands clasped earnestly. «I suppose you realize ninety per cent of the population suspect I have something to do with Pe
«No,» I said cautiously. «Nobody's told me that.»
«Figures,» he muttered. «Did Michael brief you on Boston?»
«Yes, the salient points; I have a bubble cube full of files which he compiled, but I haven't got round to accessing any of them yet.»
«Well, when you do, you'll find that Pe
«Oh, Christ.»
«Yeah. And I'm the man responsible for ensuring Eden stays firmly locked in to the JSKP's domain.»
I remembered his file; Nocord was a vice-president (on sabbatical) from McDo
«If we can confirm where you were prior to the murder, you should be in the clear,» I said. «I'll have one of my officers take a statement and correlate it with Eden's memory of your movements. Shouldn't be a problem.»
«It would never be me personally, anyway, not even as part of a pla
«But clearing your name quickly would help quell any rumours.» I paused. «Are you telling me JSKP takes Boston seriously enough to bring covert operatives into this situation?»
«I don't know. I mean that, I'm not holding out on you. As far as I know the board is relying on you and me to prevent things from getting out of control up here. We know you're dependable,» he added, almost in apology.
I guess he'd studied my file as closely as I'd gone over his. It didn't particularly bother me. Anyone who does access my history isn't going to find any earthshaker revelations. I used to be a policeman, I went into the London force straight from university. With thirty-five million people crammed together in the Greater London area, and four million of them unemployed, policing is a very secure career, we were in permanent demand. I was good at it, I made detective in eight years. Then my third case was working as part of a team investigating corruption charges in the London Regional Federal Commission. We ran down over a dozen senior politicians and civil servants receiving payola for awarding contracts to various companies. Some of the companies were large and well known, and two of the politicians were sitting in the Greater Federal Europe congress. Quite a sensation, we were given hours of prime facetime on the newscable bulletins.
The judge and the Metropolitan Police Commander congratulated us in front of the cameras, handshakes and smiles all round. But in the months which followed none of my colleagues who went up before promotion boards ever seemed successful. We got crappy assignments. We pulled the night shifts for weeks at a time. Overtime was denied. Expenses were queried. Call me cynical, I quit and went into corporate security. Companies regard employee loyalty and honesty as commendable traits—below board level anyway.
«I like to think I am, yes,» I told the Governor. «But if you're expecting trouble soon, just remember I haven't had time to build any personal loyalties with my officers. What did you mean that the murder's timing stinks?»
«It looks suspicious, that's all. The company sends a new police chief who isn't even affinity capable; and, wham , Pe
«I'll bear it in mind. Do you have any ideas who might have killed her?»
Fasholé Nocord sat back in his chair and gri
I returned a blank smile. «You have been emphasizing your own i
It wasn't quite the response he was looking for. The professional grin faltered. «No, I don't have any idea. But I will tell you Pe
«She had her own biotechnology company, didn't she?»
«That's right, she founded Pacific Nugene; it's basically a softsplice house, specializing in research and design work rather than production. Pe