Thirty-two

 

“Blowback,” Flint repeated. He hadn’t heard that term in years. It referred to weapons created by one group for one purpose, only to have those weapons eventually used against that group by someone else.

Corporations that dealt in arms manufacture sometimes suffered from blowback, but mostly, blowback happened against countries that sold or gave weapons to other countries—to prop up a government, say, or to defend a country in a war. Eventually those weapons would get used against—or would blow back to—the country that invented them.

“Blowback.” He ran a hand over his face. “We don’t develop weapons on the Moon, at least, not those kind.”

That he knew of. He didn’t know what all of the corporations were doing.

“Not the Moon, Mr. Flint,” Goudkins said gently. “The Earth Alliance.”

Flint closed his eyes. The Earth Alliance. Of course. He had known this was big. He couldn’t quite wrap his brain around this.

He opened his eyes. Goudkins was staring at him. Ostaka had looked over his shoulder at Popova who was, apparently, still standing outside.

“Why would the Earth Alliance develop clones from known criminals?” Flint asked.

“Thieves, mostly,” Goudkins said. “Plants, to insert into the Black Fleet.”

Flint bowed his head. “Using real live people as the originals, not dead people, right? So that these clones could go undercover?”

“More or less,” Goudkins said. “We’re not allowed to investigate, so it’s only what we’ve heard before.”

“Son of a bitch.” Flint stood up. He had to move. He couldn’t remain sitting with this information. “The Earth Alliance isn’t involved now, is it?”

“No,” Ostaka said quickly. “Definitely not.”

Goudkins gave her partner a withering look. “We don’t know that. We don’t know anything. We’re not allowed to investigate it. Someone else is supposedly doing that.”

“But you don’t believe it,” Flint said.

She shook her head.

“The Earth Alliance wants this part of the investigation dropped.” Flint walked away from the table and went to the windows. The city spread before him, intact, the damage from four years ago impossible to see.

So many other cities weren’t intact. So many were ruined, so many lives destroyed, and the Earth Alliance didn’t want all of this investigated?

And DeRicci knew?

He couldn’t believe that of her. He knew she followed orders she didn’t like—that was why she stayed with the police after he left—but she had ethics, just like everyone else.

She couldn’t know.

Could she?

“I’m sure the Alliance doesn’t want to be embarrassed,” Ostaka said.

Flint bit back a curse. Embarrassed. That was more important than preventing other attacks.

“Do you think the Earth Alliance knows who launched this attack, then?” he asked.

“No,” Ostaka said.

Flint turned. His gaze met Goudkins’.

“I don’t know,” she said.

Flint gathered himself. He had to think clearly. “You know I’m going to investigate this.”

“I do,” Goudkins said.

“If you help me, you could lose your jobs over this.” He made sure he looked at Ostaka, who had turned slightly gray. “If you don’t want to be part of the investigation, leave now. We’ll say you had nothing to do with our conversation.”

Ostaka tapped his fingers against his mouth. Then he looked at Goudkins.

“If I leave now, the Earth Alliance will know something is up.”

“Not right away,” she said.

“They’ll shut you down,” he said.

Flint watched. They could have carried this part of the conversation to their links. They weren’t. He wasn’t sure why. So that he would be witness to it, obviously, but why have the personal part in front of him?

“Not right away,” she repeated.

Ostaka glanced at Popova. She still had her arms crossed, and she was watching intently, swaying slightly as if she wanted to keep herself focused.

Focus. Flint let out a small breath.

They were having this conversation out loud so that he would volunteer his systems. So that he could look up this information without implicating them.

Was it altruism? Or was it a way of tracking him?

God, he didn’t trust anyone anymore.

They looked at him, as if they expected him to say something. But he wouldn’t.

He didn’t need them, not really. Not having their access would slow him down, but not enough to risk his work, his systems, or the solution to this case.

“It’s your decision,” he said.

Something changed behind Goudkins’ eyes. He was going to double-check her story about her sister’s death.

“But,” Flint said, and this time he was talking to Ostaka, “there are still other facets of this investigation that need coordination. It would be better to have Earth Alliance investigators working with the Alliance instead of detached from it.”

Ostaka’s eyebrows made that slight twitch. They had hoped Flint would jump on this. He wasn’t going to, not in the way they wanted.

“He’s right,” Goudkins said. “You can leave the room when we talk about weapons if you want.”

“I’m sure Noelle will join you,” Flint said, partly because he was feeling bitter, but partly to make it easier for Ostaka to stay. Flint almost added, She likes following orders, too, but he didn’t.

He wasn’t being fair.

Not that anything about this investigation was fair.

“You think she’ll cooperate with us now?” Ostaka asked.

“I don’t know what she’ll do.” Flint nodded toward Popova. “But, I suspect, I have given her no choice.”

“You’re a complicated man, Mr. Flint,” Ostaka said, and Flint wondered if that comment came because he hadn’t acted as they had hoped.

“Not really,” Flint said. “I didn’t lie to you when I came in this room. All I want to do is prevent another attack, so my daughter doesn’t live in fear. It’s really that simple.”

Goudkins’ eyes narrowed.

“Nothing is that simple,” she said, and sat down. “Should we see what else we don’t know about each other’s investigations?”

“Yeah,” Flint said, and sat too, knowing that he would share only what he had to. He hadn’t lied about the other part either. He was going to coordinate this entire investigation, even if no one else would.