18

Knowledge is not understanding; that’s why so many pedants are idiots.

Most of my body was sore when I woke on Domen morning. That was despite a hot shower and autotherapy in the villa’s medcenter the night before. High-gee maneuvers against RPFs did have a price for the pilot. Another hot shower helped—some.

I ate breakfast in the sheltered garden corner of the courtyard, watching the holoscans of news and items Max thought would interest me. The only news that really intrigued me was one particular blurb, accompanying a talking head.

“…last night three surveillance vehicles suffered major systems malfunctions and crashed north of the Somme on forest lands owned and managed by Rothschild Thierry. RT explained that the fires had been controlled and that those responsible had already indemnified RT…”

That was all.

Just what was going on at Time’s End? I only had a tenuous and rumored connection between Legaar Eloi and Judeon Maraniss, and nothing at all that would link them to something called Elysium. I didn’t even know what Elysium might be, except a guess that it was a project of some sort being undertaken by Classic Research requiring more energy than a handful of deep-space battle cruisers and that Maraniss had some special expertise necessary for the success of the project.

Then there were the complications from both Sephaniah and Tony diVeau. I’d neglected following up on them to see what connections they might have with Legaar. Their attempts to snoop and crash my systems hadn’t happened until I’d gotten involved with Seigniora Reynarda’s Elysium commission. I’ve never been a believer in coincidences. I still wasn’t.

The “transfer” business from the limo to the reservoir also still nagged at me. If Legaar or Maraniss had done it, why hadn’t they used it against the nightflitter? If they hadn’t, who had? And why?

I was also still stiff and sore. The soreness would have made it somewhat easier to keep my vow not to get consumed with pending projects—until early afternoon, perhaps. But I didn’t get that choice. I’d only finished handwriting a polite but warm note to Odilia and arranged for Max to send it by courier when the system alerted me.

Incoming from Lemel Jerome.

Have him wait one. I’ll be right there. I swallowed the last of the earlgrey and stood, trying not to wince. Then I crossed the courtyard to the study.

I’m a creature of habit. I prefer to handle business in the proper setting.

Once in the study, I pulsed Max. Link.

Lemmy appeared before me. His black hair was plastered back. He was grinning. His brown eyes still looked flat. “You did it, Blaine. The conveyer of carnality is employing my patents, and I’ve got proof.”

“You got all that from the detector?” I knew Lemmy was bright, but applied science bright? “And you backlinked a burst transmitter direct to you?”

“How else would I find out?”

Lemmy might be science bright, legal bright, maybe even gadget bright. He wasn’t survival bright. “Legaar could track that back to you, unless you used remotes, with drop filters.”

“So? Why would he bother? He can pay the royalties. He’s got a massive jump-generator there, or something so close to it that it makes no difference.”

“Lemmy…you can’t operate a jump-generator on a planetary surface. Not without—”

Oversurge! reported Max.

The link was gone. So was a good chunk of system overload protectors, but that was what they were for. I also had a strong feeling that poor Lemmy was also past tense, courtesy of Legaar Eloi. I had a stronger feeling that I had best be very careful. Lemmy’s detector needed to be thoroughly insulated—and then some. Immediately.

Max, status of Lemel Jerome’s detector?

Isolated and damped, as you ordered, sir.

I thought I’d done that, but I needed to make sure. Monitor all news sources for breaking information on Lemel Jerome. Inform me immediately.

I tried a relink to Lemmy. All I got was a stiff talking head that stated, “The link locale you have contacted is not responding.”

I knew that. My system would have reconnected automatically if it had been possible. Whatever had knocked Lemmy out of link—and probably worse—had to have come from Legaar. Legaar was doing something connected to Lemmy’s patents. Lemmy had said that Legaar had a jumpship generator at Time’s End, but jumpship generators couldn’t operate in a gravity well—or even near one. Not without the power of a Hawking system. If Legaar did have a Hawking system, it would have registered on the nightflitter’s systems.

Still…it made me nervous. Very nervous, because if someone had actually operated a jumpship generator in a gravity well, particularly a planetary gravity well, powered with a Hawking field, the result would have been instant obliteration, for the planet and a goodly chunk of space around it. Not obliteration, exactly, just the transformation of all matter into energy. That equated to obliteration for entities nearby. That included me and Krij and the Civitas Sorores.

That had been the fate of Salem. The Vishni Confederacy hadn’t bothered with sending conventional warships against the rebel Christos Republic. They’d just assembled a Hawking system on the back side of an inner planet, linked it to two jumpship generators, and triggered both generators. Instant flare-nova, along with the destruction of the inner planet. That was the reason why the Assembly used EDI detectors to scan continually all its inhabited planetary systems. Hawking systems could be built anywhere in space, although they were too large and too unstable for continued jumpship usage, and the energy concentrations necessary for full operation took days to build before the system was stable and usable.

I knew the Assembly IS was continually monitoring for such a possibility. That knowledge didn’t make me any happier.

Telling the Garda—even Colonel Shannon—about what Legaar Eloi had on his estate wasn’t an option. They couldn’t do anything because what Legaar had done, so far, wasn’t illegal. Even informing them anonymously wouldn’t be either anonymous or safe, because Shannon and Javerr would know I was the informer. They’d try to pin the destruction of the RPFs on me. Or Javerr would, and he’d inform Legaar. I already had enough trouble on my hands as it was without even greater interest and animosity from the Eloi group.

There was another option. It would take time, but I needed to use it.

I leaned forward and took out the stylus. Nothing was going into my system, anywhere, until the delays and blind links were set up. I had to call on old memories and near-forgotten codes. They’d be outdated, but that alone would create some attention.

In the end, the message was simple.

CODE RED OMEGA TWO

Modified jumpship generator located within confines of Time’s End on Devanta. Coordinates follow. Area guarded by military-level RPFs and surveillance systems. Massive power-generation system also in place. Currently exhibiting less power than a Hawking system.

AUTHENTICATE: -74

It went enrypt/unencrypt/re-encrypt through four blind links, two erase-delays to a temporarily co-opted burst sender belonging to a small commerce bank. From there, it went to the regional Assembly SpecOps HQ. Behind it, the tracks of its passage erased themselves.

For a moment, I leaned back in the chair and looked out the east windows.

I still had more work to do on the D’Azouza and Stella Strong commissions, as well as on the Tozzi chase—and a great deal more on the Elysium contract, if I could only figure out what else to do that wouldn’t make me even more of a target.

I also needed to increase the security levels around the villa and in the comm system.