Marushige was right. Sato considered it uneconomical to undertake a hunt for Verner and his doxy. Crenshaw’s lobbying for just such action had almost cost her all the good will she had been building up with the Kansayaku. The only good thing was that Sato had not directly forbidden her to look into the matter. Not that such a prohibition would have stopped her, despite the devastating consequences disobeying could bring down. Crenshaw figured she had always been able to look after her own interests, arranging for any devastating consequences to fall on someone else, preferably an enemy.
Still, her private investigation had not yielded much. Her network in Seattle was minute compared to the web of contacts and informants she had maintained in Asia. What little word trickled in all came back negative. It was as though Verner had vanished from the face of the earth. Such cheap runners couldn’t be that good. There had to be a connection with some high-rolling player in this shadow game. All she had to do was find it.
To do that, she needed time—time the Kansayaku wasn’t letting her have. Whenever she wasn’t acting as his bodyguard, he kept her running his errands. As though Akabo and Masamba weren’t enough mundane and magical muscle. As though he were trying to keep her from getting out and doing some of her own spadework.
That, she realized, was an angle she had overlooked. Might Sato be involved somehow? She didn’t see what he had to gain, but he certainly had enough clout to make a person vanish. A hidden interest in Verner would explain why Sato had gone along so easily with her suggestion about offering the wimp contact with his sister.
If she could just finish her little chore quickly enough, she could get in a call to a certain Tokyo fixer who might know something.
Impatiently, Crenshaw looked through the double panes of Xylan separating her from the clean room where the AI team was conducting an experiment. Among the anonymous green-coated figures, the tall form of Vanessa Cliber stood out easily. After a few moments, Crenshaw identified the other team leaders among the capped and masked workers.
The strands of black hair escaping from a loosely tied cap and a constant bustle were characteristic of Sherman Huang, president of Renraku America and head of the operation. No one else would dare to be so casual about the room’s cleanliness restrictions while at the same time being so passionately involved in the process.
The other leader demonstrated a precision of movement and an economy of motion Crenshaw admired. She had noted it two days ago while observing Konrad Hutten working in the data center. For a man whose specialty was abstruse microtronic engineering, he had a physical grace she found attractive. When this current business was wrapped up, she just might try to find out if he was equally attractive away from his work. She wondered if he liked aggressive women.
As she watched, the test seemed to conclude. The workers relaxed visibly and all the bustling stopped. Three figures left their associated knots of green coats and headed for the airlock door of the clean room. Only the team leaders would be free to leave before all systems were verified as secure. Crenshaw felt a smug satisfaction at having pegged all three correctly.
Huang was the first through the outer door. He had already stripped away his cap and mask and was trying to stuff them into a pocket. His mind, as usual, was on other things, and the objects fell to the floor.
“—for a whole hour. It’s not like she didn’t know there were going to be late nights on this project.”
“Even wives don’t like being stood up, Sherman,” Cliber said.
“It was just a little dinner party. Nobody important was there.” Huang shrugged. “She’ll get over it. She always does.”
“Perhaps if you took some time off,” Hutten suggested.
“Time?” Huang was clearly affronted. “That’s exactly the issue. Everybody wants my time. I don’t have enough for the project now that it’s reached this crucial stage. If they’d just leave us alone.” His eyes fixed on something only he could see and the muscles around them relaxed from their habitual squint. “Just a little more time and we’ll show them.”
He reached down and spun a monitor to face him.
“Hah! Just what I thought. Take a look at this.”
The other two peered over his shoulder. Cliber uttered a meditative “hmm.” Hutten said nothing but reached past Huang to tap keys on the console.
“Good thought, Konrad.” Huang nodded in approval. “That configuration should maximize through-put in the beta cycle.”
“An obvious extrapolation from the modulator parameters,” Hutten observed.
In her business, Crenshaw was sometimes pleased and relieved to be treated as part of the furniture. The lack of attention could even be a valuable asset. This was not one of those times. Deciding that the green coats were going to ignore her until she intruded on their attention, she stepped up and spoke.
“President Huang?”
All three looked at her in unison. Cliber’s face immediately settled into its habitual glare of contempt. The other two wore expressions of mild curiosity.
“Yes?’
“Alice Crenshaw, sir. Security division.”
Huang’s brow furrowed, but Crenshaw noted his fugitive flash of concern. Like a child caught looking at dirty pictures.
“There’s no problem, sir. I’m on assignment with Kansayaku Sato. He sent me to convey his apologies and regrets that your dinner meeting must be postponed by half an hour.”
“Is that tonight?” Huang asked absently.
“Seven-thirty,” Hutten offered. “Now eight.”
“Well, I guess we’ll be there. With all the bells and whistles.” Huang laughed nervously.
Crenshaw groaned inwardly. They had invented the term “nerd” for this man. She smiled politely. “The Kansayaku is looking forward to meeting your team leaders this evening.”
Cliber flashed her companions an anticipatory grin. “I’m looking forward to it, too. I’ve got a few things I’d like to drop into Mr. Kansa-whatever’s ears.” She turned on Crenshaw. “He’s sure taken his time getting around to us. The grapevine’s been buzzing about how he’s in such an all-fired hurry to get the project moving. How come he’s waited so long to talk to us?”
“The corporation has a lot more interests than your AI project, Doctor Cliber. Kansayaku Sato must concern himself with them all. He has been looking around, getting a feel for the operation here in Seattle. He has told me that he thought it best not to disturb your important work on the project more than necessary.”
“No more than—” Cliber sputtered. “The personnel changes he ordered were hardly necessary. And they were very disturbing.”
“As I said, Doctor, no more than necessary.”
“What does he know about what is ‘necessary’? You people are all alike. You have no idea of what we’re doing here, but you still think you can shove people in and out, make schedule changes at whim, and I don’t know what all else. Then you expect us to dump results in your laps on order.”
“Calm yourself, Doctor.”
“Calm myself.” Cliber’s face was flushed. “I haven’t gotten started yet.”
“I suggest you reevaluate your attitude in light of the Kansayaku ‘s mandate,” Crenshaw stated coldly. “He might find your attitude non-productive.”
“Non-productive!” Cliber tugged her cap from her head, loosing her honey blonde hair from the pins that had bound it up. She slammed the green cap to the floor. “Sherman!”
Huang looked up confusedly from the monitor he had gone back to studying. “Hmmm?”
Crenshaw spoke before Cliber could launch her tirade. “I was just suggesting to Doctor Cliber that she curb her...enthusiasm. Cooperation with Kansayaku Sato is the fastest way to get your project moving.”
Huang blinked, looking from his clearly incensed colleague to the calm security officer and back again. “Vanessa, I’m afraid Ms. Crenshaw is right. You do let your temper get the better of you occasionally, and we must be careful around Mr. Sato. If he’s satisfied with what he finds and no one antagonizes him, he’ll go away and we can all get back to our work. You know how close we are.” He gave Cliber a weak smile that seemed to calm her a little. Then he mumbled, “I do hate all this bureaucratic nonsense.”
“Hardly nonsense, President Huang.” Crenshaw chided. Cliber snorted, but she continued. “But I understand how professionals like your team may find it bothersome to abide by the necessary formalities of operating in a business-like manner. Kansayaku Sato is only looking out for Renraku’s interests. He wishes all departments to work at peak efficiency.”
“Then why hasn’t he approved our requests for more help?”
“As a matter of fact, he has.” Crenshaw produced a chip carrier from her jacket pocket and tossed it on the desk. “These are the files and transfer orders for twelve of your requested personnel. I’m sure you will want to express your thanks to the Kansayaku at dinner tonight. Until then.”
Enjoying the stunned looks on Huang’s and Cliber’s faces, Crenshaw turned and strode for the door. On her way, she noticed Hutten had seated himself at a cyberterminal and continued working through the uproar. A realistic and professional attitude. She liked that in a man.