Pandora's Star

Port Launay was simply a four-kilometer section of the urban strip that ran along the whole shore of Kailindri island, though “urban” was pushing the definition a bit. The single compacted stone road ran along two hundred meters inland from the sea through an unbroken forest of shaggy native trees, with small cul-de-sacs branching off where clusters of chalets and bungalows sheltered under the branches. Towns were identifiable only by the way shops and commercial buildings clumped together to serve residential neighborhoods.

When the BMW’s drive array indicated they’d reached their cul-de-sac, Re

“How did they get here so goddamn fast?” Tarlo asked.

“Who knows,” Re

“Sure.” Tarlo gri

She watched him saunter over to the sergeant in charge. Tarlo was from Los Angeles, eighty-two years old. Not that he gave that impression in the flesh; nine years after his first rejuvenation he still looked as if he was barely out of his teens. His wealthy California family had contributed extensive germline sequencing, one facet of which restricted his natural aging process. They’d also gone for a traditional (or stereotyped—depending on your viewpoint) surfer-kid appearance: slim body, but tall and naturally toned, with lush blond hair and perfect teeth set on a firm square jaw. Tarlo clearly relished his heritage. Why he’d gone into law enforcement was something Re

He ought to fit in just fine on Nzega. Which was why she was happy to let him talk to the police. Sometimes there was a lot of resentment within the local law enforcement agency when the Directorate turned up and took over.

She saw the forensics team’s van pull in behind the BMW just as Tarlo and the sergeant laughed together. One of the police cars was driven off the track it had been blocking, and Tarlo waved her through.

The beach cottage was another couple of hundred meters down the track. Tall trees with gray-blue leaves lined the track, providing a degree of privacy for the homes along the cul-de-sac. She caught glimpses of the single-story buildings, built mainly from wood or composite panels; one had been grown from drycoral. A black Merc had drawn up outside the cottage she wanted. Re

“The Halgarths sent their own security team,” Tarlo said as he walked up beside her, holding his linen jacket over his shoulder. He nodded at the Merc. “Police said they arrived about forty minutes ago.”

“How do the police feel about us being here?”

He gri

“Good.” She watched the forensics team van jolt its way along the track. “Do we know which house the Guardians operated out of?”

“Yep.” He pointed along the shore. “Two down. They obviously had good intel. Police have put a guard on it. The reporters don’t know about that yet.”

“Okay.” Re

“The boss isn’t here.”

“That’s not the point.”

With a great show of reluctance, Tarlo put his jacket back on, and pulled his tie up. “There’d better be air-conditioning,” he muttered as Re

They walked down the narrow front path to the beach cottage. It was a modest little building, made of wood that had been freshly painted lime-green, with a solar cell roof and semiorganic precipitator leaves hanging from the eves. A wide veranda faced the sea. Only the rear and sides of the property were fenced in with trees, giving the cottage a grand view out across the broad cove. A barbecue stood at the end of the veranda, with several chairs and a table on the grass beside it. Empty bottles of exotic cocktails, beer cans, and dirty plates occupied the table, glistening in the fast-evaporating dew.

One of the Halgarth security perso

“Sure thing,” he said. “Some identification, please?”

Re

“Thank you,” the security man said. He opened the door for them.

The cottage wasn’t large. A narrow hall led to three bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room, which took up half of the total floor space. The furniture was functional rather than ornate, a typical low-budget holiday rental.

“She’s a Halgarth, and she comes here for a vacation?” Tarlo said. “Even if she’s minor family she could stay someplace better.”

“That’s not the point. Didn’t you access the file? This is her first year at college, her first vacation with a bunch of friends. She’s free of the family for the first time in her life. Anyway, what’s wrong with this place?”

He winked. “No moon. No tides.” His voice dropped to a deliberately hoarse whisper. “No surf!”

Re

Her three girlfriends were standing guard protectively around her. Maria

“Have you caught the bastards?” Maria

“Not yet, no,” Tarlo said. “We’re just establishing the investigation.”

“Huh!” Maria

“Ms. Halgarth, we need to ask you some questions,” Re

Maria

April peered up at Re

Maria

“I guess you must be wondering why this happened to you?” Re