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“I’m sure there’s something that’ll work,” Grant said nicely. “I’ll look.”
By computer. You could do anything by computer. It would be there in an hour, if they opted for messenger service, and flowers and paintings could get through security, oh, by tomorrow, if security was in a good mood.
It certainly wasn’t the way he’d done things in the days when he’d been free, on his own salary and Grant’s.
Before the first Ari had gotten her hands on him. Before Jordan had gotten himself in trouble and gotten shipped to the far side of the world.
So Jordan came back, and Ari protected him from his own father…meaning she’d finally gotten her way and gotten him all the way into her wing–to do nothingin his career, but teach her.
Standing, he flipped on the computer. The screen blinked up.
Threemessages from Ari, in the upper righthand corner.
Calamity?
He dropped into the chair, keyed the messages up.
And had to laugh, however ruefully.
“What is it?”
“Ari’s postscripts. The first Ari didn’t do postscripts. Wouldn’t have done a postscript when she was six. Our girl’s done two in the same letter. She’s worried I’ll hit the ceiling. I think she’s really worried.”
“What does she say?”
“That they’re giving the other office to Jordan. That were better off here. That the old office was bugged, anyway.”
That got a laugh from Grant.
Justin keyed off and got up. “Let’s go out for lunch.”
“Out for lunch? We haven’t gotten any work done yet. I’m just into the flowers.”
“Lunch. Relaxation. Out of the Wing. Prove we can. But somewhere lesslikely to run into Jordan.”
“Jordan is going to be heading for Ya
This time helaughed. It made fair sense. Jordan was going to take about five minutes to realize he’d been given the office solo, and bet on it, Jordan wasn’t going to be working today, either.
Straight line course for Ya
Not that Ya
So who had? What other authority was there, ruling his life?
Justin walked over to the desk, picked out the printout he’d been working over. Laid the project‑book, open, on his desk, where he would work on it when he got back. “There. We’re officially moved in and my desk is officially cluttered, so it’s home. God knows what the fallout was from that card Jordan handed me. Opening barrage, in what’s going to be some kind of war, I’m afraid. A war for possession of us, for starters. For possession of Reseune, I’m very much afraid. Jordan’s not going to win anything and I don’t think he’ll stop until someone stops him. And I don’t want that, Grant, damn, I really don’t want it.” His mood crashed. He leaned on his chair back. “He’s headed for a fall.”
“You think she’ll send him back to Planys?”
Deep down, he actually wished she would, this morning once and for all. And that was so startlingly dark and traitorous a thought that he felt deeply ashamed of himself. Jordan had spent twenty years in comparative privation, shut out of the modern world for a crime his accuser had likely committed; and his own son at least owed him some sympathy for the resultant bitterness, didn’t he?
But not when Grant was in danger from that sympathy: Ari had created Grant, Jordan had written some of his first tapes, knew at least his initial keywords and triggers, and if Jordan decided there might be flaws in Grant’s loyalty, and wanted to revise things, he could do major damage.
And hellif he’d let that happen, not if it meant Jordan going straight back into exile. He shoved back from the chair and picked up his coat.
“Jordan’s not making it easy for anybody,” he said grimly. “Not for me, not for you, not for two hours ru
“Why does he do it?” Grant asked, reaching for his own coat. “What does an intelligent CIT want out of this situation?”
“Intelligent as he is, I’m afraid intelligence is nowhere in this situation.”
“You’re angry with him.” Halfway into the coat.
Justin settled his own onto his shoulders. “You noticed that.”
“Angry enough to take action against him as you did. That seems justified, from my own view.”
“I’m angry about being uprooted into an office that’s just damned backwardto what I’ve been used to for most of my life. I’m angry at being co‑opted deeper into Ari’s wing. I’m angry because I’m going to miss Abrizio’s…”
“We can walk over there. Nothing’s stopping us.”
“We could run into him!”
“So you want to avoid him permanently?”
“ Damnit.”
“But not damn him?”
“I don’t know!”
Grant frowned. “So all across the horizon, very intelligent CITs aren’t acting rationally. Young Ari didn’t do a thing, Ya
It bordered on fu
“Jordan’s likely to be at our favorite lunch haunt on any given day if he’s using that office, and I don’t want the confrontation. So, for starters, I think we’ll walk to the north corridor of Admin for a late breakfast. That won’t be on his route.” He stared disconsolately at the cabinets, finding everything out of sorts. “They’ve color‑coded the damn supply cabinets. It looks great. But are we going to remember to put the clips back in the red box? Should we have to remember? Does anyone care?”
“At least your father won’t be into your notebooks.”
“Definitely a point in favor of this place.”
“And it wasoriginally his office.”
It was. It had been. “Let’s just get out of here before–”
The desk phone went off. He shot a look at Grant. It rang again. It was Jordan’s ID. He hesitated toward the door, then looked back.
It went on ringing. He swore, and punched in Speaker.
“Dad?”
“ Where in hell are you?” came from the other end. “ What’s going on?”
“They moved us. I think we were bugged.”
“ Youthink we were bugged! Bloody hell!” So much for that piece of deliberate naivete. And more quietly, even gently, Jordan added: “ Are you all right?”
He hadn’texpected parental concern. That ploy hadn’t even been on the radar. It set him back about a beat or two and almost hurt. Not quite. “We’re fine. Dad. We are.”
“ Where are you?”
“Wing One.” Where Jordan couldn’t come. Not a hope in hell he’d ever get through her security to have a look around this office. “They moved my office.”
And Jordan had to know that the move was for good.
“ Are you going to protest this?”
Tell the truth or temporize? Truth was simpler. Kinder, if that mattered. “No, actually.”
“ No?”
Outrage. Truth, again? Or was it a lie?
Both wrapped together, both truth andlie, likely. Jordan wanted his son to rise up and challenge Admin, and challenge Ari’s existence. But he didn’t really expect it to happen–for reasons Jordan thought he understood better than the rest of the universe. “It won’t do a damn bit of good if I do. It’s not a bad office here. More room. Certainly more room than four of us and staff jammed into the other one.”
“ Come to breakfast.”
Now a lie was necessary. Absolutely the polite thing. “Things are in a mess here. I’ve got some unpacking to do. I’ve got to find some things.”