The Gap Into Ruin: This Day All Gods Die Page 5

  Hashi spread his hands disingenuously. “So much is simple.

  “All that remains to be said of the events themselves is that before Chief Mandich’s stalwarts impelled the putative Clay Imposs from the hall, thereby saving almost any number of lives, I contrived to snatch the clearance badge from his uniform, as well as the id tag from his neck.”

  Now at last Warden permitted himself a reaction which may have been surprise. His eye widened: he shook his head slightly.

  “So what?” Chief Mandich put in harshly. “That tag and badge aren’t going to help us. I’m sure you’re right about Nathan Alt. I’m sure his credentials are legit for Clay Imposs. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been cleared. And I’m sure they were doctored somehow. Otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten past a retinal scan. But even if you figure out how they were doctored, you won’t be able to prove who did it. His id tag and badge will just confirm what we already know. Which is that whoever’s behind this has access to all the right codes.”

  “You took a terrible risk, Hashi,” Koina breathed. “You could have been killed. What did you hope to gain?”

  Hashi ignored both her and Mandich. “Since my departure from Suka Bator,” he told Warden, “Data Acquisition has been diligent in its assigned functions. The technical aspects of this investigation I have entrusted to Lane Harbinger, whose qualifications for the task are superb. For my part, I have taken the occasion to impose Red Priority security locks on various data venues, hoping to ensure the accuracy of the information which may be obtained from them.” Briskly he named the sites he’d sealed. “In addition I have obtained preliminary readouts from Data Storage on both Nathan Alt and Clay Imposs.”

  “Go on,” Warden murmured like a man who couldn’t be moved.

  Hashi did. He had no intention of stopping.

  “The vanished Imposs we may dismiss,” he stated. “His records are both correct and clean. No marks tell against him. We must assume, I believe, that he is dead—a victim of intentions in which he had no other role except to die. It is likely that his body will never be found.”

  Corpses which had been burned down to their essential energies, or dissolved into their component chemicals, no longer existed in any form which might be susceptible to discovery.

  “Nathan Alt, as you might imagine, is another matter entirely.

  “I will spare you the less relevant details of his history.” Hashi enjoyed lecturing. The more he explained, the more he understood. “The primary facts are these. Less than a year after his court-martial, Captain Alt found employment with Nanogen, Inc., a research-and-development concern studying the production of microchips and electronic devices by nanotechnological means. Specifically he found employment in Nanogen Security, despite—or perhaps because of—his record.

  “Not surprisingly,” Hashi remarked dryly, “Nanogen, Inc., is a wholly owned subsidiary of the United Mining Companies.

  “Since then, our subject’s career has been one of steady advancement through the vast hierarchy of the UMC’s Security departments. Again I will spare you the details. For our purposes, the crucial point is that approximately a year ago he attained the position of Security Liaison for Anodyne Systems, the sole licensed manufacturer of SOD-CMOS chips.”

  “We know what Anodyne Systems does,” Chief Mandich muttered.

  Hashi didn’t respond. He went on speaking to Warden as if the two of them were alone.

  “I suspect that First Executive Assistant Fane will confirm this when you accept his call. One of the redoubtable FEA’s duties as the Dragon’s right hand concerns the oversight of Anodyne Systems.”

  “We know that, too,” Warden said brusquely. “Get to the point, Hashi.”

  He didn’t add, I have an act of war to worry about. There was no need.

  Nevertheless Hashi declined to be hurried. The quantum mechanics of truth yielded its secrets only when its uncertainties were handled with care.

  “Quite naturally,” he continued as if he were impervious to any exigencies except his own, “as Security Liaison for Anodyne Systems, Nathan Alt had no dealings with us.” In his own way he considered himself as unreachable as the UMCP director. “He had no direct contact with the UMCP at all. We supply all working personnel for Anodyne Systems. In particular we supply all security. Rather his duties involved coordinating the flow of knowledge and skill between UMC as well as UMCP cryptographers and Anodyne Systems Security.

  “Specifically his responsibilities centered on the design of the embedded code engines which generate clearances for both the Governing Council for Earth and Space and the United Mining Companies Police. His assigned task—I quote from the personnel mandate of his employment—was ‘to ensure the highest possible level of precision and invulnerability’ in those codes.

  “The coincidence is intriguing, is it not? How did a man with Nathan Alt’s record—and his reasons for disaffection—attain such a lofty and vital position? Perhaps Cleatus Fane will shed light on that question for us. Certainly our former captain’s record suggests brilliance in code design and programming. And UMCP training is apt for security. In that sense he was well qualified for his work.

  “Lest you think that we have committed some monumental blunder in regard to his involvement, let me stress that he had no power to select or alter the specific code engines employed by Anodyne Systems. Those decisions were made by Anodyne Systems Security under our explicit supervision. From our perspective Captain Alt was merely a resource which the UMC had made available to Anodyne Systems Security. Therefore we had no reason to protest—or even to remark upon—his participation.

  “Yet the fact remains that he supplied a substantial portion of the source-code and design for the engines currently in use. His proposals were tested and validated, and ultimately accepted, by our own Security techs. They were, in Chief Mandich’s terms, ‘legit.’ Thus he has proved his value as a resource.

  “Of course,” Hashi remarked casually, “in order to make such a sensitive contribution to our own Security, as well as to the Council’s, Captain Alt required a complete knowledge of every facet of those code engines, including those portions which he did not supply.”

  Obliquely Hashi wondered whether Koina and Mandich caught the implications. Warden assuredly did.

  “What is the result?” the DA director asked rhetorically. “Through the intervention—direct or indirect—of the Dragon, a man whom we have court-martialed for ‘dereliction of duty’ has attained an intimate grasp on the most secret, as well as the most specialized, aspect of our procedures for self-protection.”

  Now that man was dead.

  His death in a state of drug-induced hypnosis suggested that he had not chosen his own end. Holt Fasner rarely inspired the loyalty for self-sacrifice.

  Before Warden could insist again that he “get to the point,” Hashi pronounced, “Under the circumstances, we can be certain that Nathan Alt possessed both the skill and the knowledge to substitute his own physical id for Clay Imposs’ credentials.”

  The UMCP director appeared to study this assertion as if he had no essential interest in it; as if it changed nothing. But Chief Mandich reacted like a man who had been provoked beyond endurance.

  “How?” he demanded fiercely. “Tell me how. God damn it, Lebwohl, if you knew about this, why didn’t you say something? We could have stopped him.”

  Without glancing away from Hashi, Warden lifted a hand to warn the Security Chief that he went too far.

  Mandich bit down his protest.

  Into the space left by the Chief’s silence, Koina placed a challenge of another kind.

  “This doesn’t make any sense, Hashi. If he could do all that, why did he choose himself to be the kaze? Don’t you think that’s a rather bizarre way to commit suicide?”

  Warden continued watching the DA director stonily; remorselessly.

  Now Hashi deigned to answer the Chief. “There is no mystery here. If you were adept at the programming of SOD-CMOS chips, and if yo
u held possession of both your id and mine, you would have no difficulty preparing a composite which blended my records with your physical data. In effect, the new id tag would identify you as me.”

  He wished to show Warden that he could transcend Mandich’s personal animosity. More than that, he wished to show that he was equal to Warden’s game.

  Koina’s questions would answer themselves.

  Warden planted his palms on the desktop in front of him—a gesture which usually indicated that he was out of patience.

  “Director Lebwohl, I’m sure everything you’re telling us is true.” His voice sounded guttural; angry and tense. “And it’s all important. But I don’t have time for a seminar. None of us do. I need a connection—a real one, not some tenuous, circumstantial theory based on the fact that Fane hired a man who doesn’t like us to help design SOD-CMOS code engines.”

  Hashi nodded to show that he understood. “May I again suggest,” he countered, “that you allow the First Executive Assistant to contact you?”

  Warden dismissed the idea. “Not yet. You aren’t done.”

  Did it show? Hashi liked to believe that his personal IR emissions were difficult for Warden to interpret. The DA director had done studies on himself, seeking to determine how much his own aura revealed. The results had gratified him: he could tell the baldest lies without producing definable ripples along the bandwidths of Warden’s sight. It was possible, however, that Warden understood the nature of Hashi’s excitement in some unquantifiable and intuitive fashion.

  “Very well,” Hashi acceded. “Sadly, I cannot offer you a connection which will not appear both ‘circumstantial’ and ‘tenuous’ in law. Nevertheless the connection I propose has substance. It will hold.

  “If we are fortunate”—he permitted himself a small grin—“Cleatus Fane will confirm it for us.”

  If the First Executive Assistant did so, that would also confirm the importance of Imposs/Alt’s id tag and clearance badge.

  “In no sense,” Hashi continued promptly, “has Lane Harbinger had time to complete her study of Nathan Alt’s earthly remains. However, certain of her preliminary findings may be relied upon.

  “It is unmistakable, for example, that at the time of his demise our Captain Alt was deeply under the influence of hypnogogic substances. His actions in the hall were innocent of volition. He may well have both designed and carried out the procedures by which his id replaced Clay Imposs’, but his death was not a suicide. He did not elect his own end.”

  If Min Donner’s accusations during Alt’s court-martial were accurate, the man was too much a coward to die for any cause.

  Koina sighed softly, nodding to herself as if she were relieved in some way. Idealistic images of the UMCP died hard, especially in Warden’s presence. Apparently she had been quite disturbed by the idea that any UMCP officer could be so disenchanted that he would be willing to kill himself in order to harm his former service.

  Because he spoke for Warden’s benefit—as well as his own—Hashi didn’t pause to acknowledge her reaction.

  “The chemicals by which hypnosis may be induced are familiar to us. Lane will identify them precisely. However, Captain Alt’s blood also holds heavy concentrations of a substance which is”—the DA director cleared his throat conspicuously—“less commonly understood.

  “That substance is a coenzyme. Inherently inert, it has no utility in itself. However, it combines with some of the human body’s natural apoenzymes to form an artificial holoenzyme, one which could not occur naturally. This holoenzyme is active.

  “Lane’s hypothesis—which I share—is that Captain Alt was dosed with this coenzyme in order to produce a holoenzyme which would serve as a chemical trigger for his explosive device.”

  Now Hashi paused, maliciously allowing Chief Mandich time for some inapt remark. But the man kept silent. Perhaps he had realized that he was out of his depth.

  In some indefinable way, Warden seemed to intensify. His outlines sharpened as if the light had changed: the strict shape of his face hinted at dangers and possibilities. He did nothing to interrupt or hurry Hashi.

  “If our hypothesis is accurate,” Hashi resumed, “several conclusions derive from it. First, no volition was required. It was not necessary that Captain Alt ‘set himself off.’ “Hashi articulated the colloquialism like a sneer. “Second, the absence of some more mechanical timing device suggests that those accountable for this kaze wished to adjust the explosion to suit events. They were unwilling to guess in advance when their kaze might best be set off. Third, the use of a chemical trigger rather than a radio-controlled detonator suggests that the perpetrators felt some fear that they might be caught with the transmitter in their possession.

  “Surely it is obvious that the timing of the blast could only have been adjusted to suit events by someone present in the hall.” Hashi permitted himself to elaborate this point unnecessarily while he explored some of the more obscure strands of inference spun by Lane’s investigation. “And it was surely predictable that UMCPED Security would seal the island in order to prevent any conceivable suspects from effecting an escape. Therefore the peril was real that an incriminating transmitter might be discovered.”

  He glanced at Koina and Mandich as if he were asking them to fault his logic. Then he returned his attention to Warden.

  “Thus the method becomes plain. Captain Alt is hypnotized involuntarily. He is conditioned to respond to a specified signal—a particular word, a particular gesture. He is given—let us suppose until Lane’s exploration is complete—a false tooth filled with a massive dose of the triggering coenzyme, a tooth which will break open when it is bitten. He is supplied, still involuntarily, with Clay Imposs’ credentials. Then he is sent into the hall to await his signal—and his own death.

  “The most obvious benefit of this method is that it leaves no evidence. The knowledge of the pre-conditioned signal—and of the man or woman culpable for it—dies with the kaze. No transmitter—or indeed timer—can be found.

  “Coincidentally, it perhaps rids the perpetrators of a man who might well have become an embarrassment to them.” A man who knew—and who therefore might reveal—how the code engines in question could be misused.

  “The obvious conclusion,” Hashi stated with satisfaction, “is that whoever gave the signal must have been within Captain Alt’s clear field of view.”

  Not simply present in the hall: present in plain sight from Nathan Alt’s position.

  Wondrous energy shells, layers of uncertainty, mapped the center of the atom; the core of truth.

  Neither Director Hannish nor Chief Mandich spoke. Perhaps they sensed the presence of implications they were unable to define. Or perhaps they failed to grasp why Hashi considered these details to be so significant.

  Warden’s reaction was of another kind altogether.

  Studying his DA director, he said quietly, “All right. Let’s see where this goes.” With a precise stab of his forefinger, he keyed his intercom.

  “Director Dios?” a communications tech answered.

  “I’ll talk to Cleatus Fane now,” Warden announced. His tone carried the force of a commandment.

  Koina settled herself back in her chair with a visible effort. Chief Mandich took another step forward as if he were ready for combat. Perhaps intuitively they both comprehended Hashi’s explanations better than he realized.

  “Right away, Director.” The intercom emitted thin hissings and clicks as microwave relays shuttled, establishing a downlink. A moment later the tech said, “Director Dios, I have First Executive Assistant Cleatus Fane by secure channel from Suka Bator.”

  An alert on Warden’s desk flashed until the tech left the line. Then the light turned green to indicate that the channel had been sealed against eavesdropping.

  “Mr. Fane,” Warden began bluntly. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ve been busy.”

  “I understand completely, Director Dios.” A faint spatter of static marred Fane’s avuncular
tones—solar flare activity, perhaps. “Your duties have become especially complex recently. I wouldn’t bother you at a time like this, but I think I have something to contribute to your investigation.” He chuckled fulsomely. “That sonofabitch came close to killing me. I shudder to think what could have happened if Director Lebwohl hadn’t spotted him. I’m very eager to make a contribution.”

  Especially complex recently, Hashi thought. Doubtless Fane intended a reference to Trumpet; a reminder that Holt Fasner had given Warden orders. False bonhomie concealed pressure. The FEA meant Warden to understand that he could not afford to ignore anyone who spoke for the Dragon.

  Warden was unmoved, however. “I don’t want to seem rude, Mr. Fane,” he answered, “but time is tight. What contribution did you have in mind?”

  “Then I’ll be brief. The sooner you finish your investigation, the sooner I can leave this hopeless rock.”

  Not for the first time, Cleatus Fane’s manner made Hashi think of a Santa Claus with fangs.

  “By now, Director,” Fane began, “I’m sure you’ve identified that kaze. I recognized him myself. If I’d noticed him earlier, we wouldn’t have had to rely on Director Lebwohl to save us. I knew he might be dangerous. At the very least,” he explained, “I knew he shouldn’t be there. That would have made him look dangerous, even if I had nothing else to go on. But I didn’t think to look at him closely until Director Lebwohl accosted him.

  “His name is Nathan Alt. The Nathan Alt—the one who used to work for you. He was court-martialed for ‘dereliction’ when he was in command of Vehemence. You know that. And you’ve had time to access his records, so you also know he’s been working for us since then. I mean for the UMC. Specifically he was our Security Liaison for Anodyne Systems.”

  Behind his smeared lenses and his impenetrable smile, Hashi resisted an impulse to hold his breath. Despite his confidence in the web of inferences he’d woven for Warden’s benefit, he was acutely aware that he needed Cleatus Fane’s confirmation. Without it he might be left looking uncomfortably like a man who grasped at straws in order to redeem his tarnished credibility.