It was dark now. Tanaka finally breathed easier. His primary had stabilized, and would live. Damage assessment would come later. There had been extensive nanoactivity in the central cortex, but Tanaka had faith that repairs could be made. They had always been made in the past.
What was more important was determining the source of the nanoassassins. After Swarna’s stabilization, Tanaka had flown to see firsthand the site of the accident, a godforsaken stretch of hard-packed desert road south of Swarnaville. There were no villages in sight. There were no major trade routes, and the nearest main highway was almost a hundred miles east.
It was, all in all, a miserable place to die, a back road leading to a tiny half-deserted farming village. All rocks and scrub and burnt sand, with nothing but dusty mountains to ease the starkness of the horizon. This is where Azziz had died, in a car that stood upside down in a ditch, black skid marks creasing the road like twisted railroad tracks. The car was burnt and blackened, a broken box that smelled like charred rubber and metal.
He had insisted that the local police officials leave the accident site as they had found it. Tanaka turned his collar up. Desert nights were cold, and miserable, with no redeeming feature save the exceptionally clear star field overhead. There was no moon. “What was he doing out here?” Tanaka asked, of no one in particular. He crawled into the inverted vehicle, repressing his revulsion, and examined the body, scrunched up between the collapsed ceiling and the dashboard. It was burnt, but not beyond recognition. Azziz’s neck was broken.
Tanaka crawled back out and inspected the engine. The power cell had exploded. On impact? Perhaps. Or … it had exploded and then the vehicle had plunged from the road. Either could be the case. He guessed that it had happened upon impact. A loss of control, followed by impact. Murder? Perhaps, but Azziz hadn’t been greatly disfigured, so there had been no attempt to conceal anything.…
Or had there?
“I want a complete scan on this man. Now.”
His assistant brought a portable scan from the skimmer and brought it into play. Within seconds, he had part of his answer. “Tanaka-san. This man was dead before the crash.”
Tanaka squatted by the side of the car. He trickled a handful of sand through his fingers. So many grains. The wind blows them from everywhere, he thought. How unlikely, how incredible that they somehow end up here, together in the same handful. No meaning there, but no meaning to anything.
His eyes were dead, his soul sang.
He stood, dusting his hands on his pants. “This is a decoy,” he said. “The man in this vehicle is not the man who shook hands with Swarna. By now, undoubtedly, the genuine assassin is gone.”
He stood, smoothing out the wrinkles on his pants. Where were the Four? They had been out of touch for hours. Maintaining radio silence. That might well mean they were stalking prey in enemy territory. They had their own ways, those Four.…
“We will find this man,” he said finally. “I want to know everything. One last thing. He is extremely dangerous. Take no chances. I’m invoking the mutual security act of 2031, regarding pursuit into the CAR.”
“Central African Republic?”
“Yes,” Tanaka said. “That is where he is.” He looked to the northern horizon. “I can smell him.”