Forty-one
As DeRicci got off the elevator on the main floor of the security building, she had an odd, off-balance feeling. Usually, she felt like she had come home when she arrived here. She knew she belonged, and she knew how to behave.
But for the last six months, she hadn’t had time to feel anything, and now, it seemed like she was returning from a long vacation or an even longer illness to a place she barely recognized.
Popova sat at her desk, one hand to her ear, meaning she was on a particularly loud link. Two security officers watched the conference room where, DeRicci supposed, the Earth Alliance investigators still camped.
She was going to ignore them for the moment.
She was going to ignore a lot of things as she prioritized. Time to take control of this investigation, do it her way, and make sure that every order she gave got fulfilled.
Time to start now.
“Rudra,” she said. “I need you.”
Popova looked up, clearly startled. She hadn’t heard DeRicci come in, which was unusual enough for Popova. She was usually on top of everything.
She had deep bags under her eyes, and her clothes looked a little rumpled. DeRicci wondered if she had slept here. In fact, DeRicci wondered when Popova had last left the office.
It was time to pay attention to such things: time to make changes.
Popova stood and grabbed a pad. She rounded her desk and headed for DeRicci’s office, pushing open the door.
The place was huge. It was the biggest office in the building, with floor-to-ceiling windows all around, something that Flint had commented on, something that he hated.
DeRicci couldn’t work in a place without windows. She had done it as a young police officer, and she refused to do it again, even if it placed her in a bit of jeopardy.
She just needed to see her city. And by extension, her Moon.
Her Moon.
As she walked toward her desk, which looked terrifyingly clean, she said, “Have we heard anything from the Earth Alliance’s investigation of the PierLuigi Frémont clones?”
“No, sir,” Popova said. “I would have let you know.”
DeRicci let out a small breath. She had wondered about that ever since she had spoken to Jin Rastigan on the train. DeRicci didn’t like the fact that the Earth Alliance hadn’t gotten back to her.
Or maybe they had, in the form of those investigators. She wouldn’t be able to ignore them after all. She would talk to them when she was done here.
She made it to her desk, touched its clean surface, and wondered how she had let it get so sterile. Another thing to think about later.
She looked up at Popova, who had stopped in front of the desk.
“I had a disturbing contact from Peyla,” DeRicci said.
“Peyla?” Popova asked.
“Yes,” DeRicci said. “There’s been an incident on Peyla that we wouldn’t have known about if some Earth Alliance researcher hadn’t been onsite. Even then, the Earth Alliance contact on Peyla couldn’t get anyone in the investigative office to listen to her.”
Popova frowned, then glanced over her shoulder. “Is something going on with the Alliance?”
“I think so,” DeRicci said, “but what, I’m not sure. What I am sure of is this: We need to run facial recognition on three different files. They’re all of the same face, but it’s a Peyti face. These files are different ages and at least one of them has a standard Peyti mask. I want to know if we can find any hits here on the Moon.”
“Faces of different ages?” Popova asked. “Of the same person?’
“Yes,” DeRicci said. “I should have received the information from Peyla about ten minutes ago.”
“Are we dealing with another clone problem?” Popova asked.
DeRicci sincerely hoped not. She wasn’t willing to admit what she worried about, at least not yet. She didn’t want Popova to know that DeRicci feared another Anniversary Day-type attack, only this time on Peyla.
“Something’s happening,” DeRicci said. “I’ll explain it to you in a minute. And let’s not discuss this yet with anyone else, all right?”
Popova’s frown got deeper. “You mean the Earth Alliance investigators?”
“I mean anyone,” DeRicci said. “I’m not sure if this facial-recognition thing is me helping a colleague, or something more.”
“You’re being very mysterious,” Popova said.
“I suppose I am, but it can’t be helped.” DeRicci tapped her desktop screen. The files had arrived in a secure package, sent directly to her, avoiding all links. “The files are here. Let’s start this process. And let me tell you what I learned from a woman named Jin Rastigan when she woke me up this morning.”