Juno Vargas was sitting on one of the benches in the square fronting the District Administration building, soaking up the unexpected spring warmth that some kind soul had programmed into the weather dome over New Chicago. It felt like a gift, today especially. The people who flowed steadily back and forth around her were like worker bees, single-mindedly going about their business. They barely noticed her at all, and that was a gift as well.
Tomorrow, everyone on the planet would know who she was and what she had done. The scandal would be splashed across the tabs, its details part of every InfoComm unit’s news feed.
Today, however, she was just another stranger sitting in the square, wearing a gentle smile on her face and watching the world go by. Juno closed her eyes and focused on absorbing the moment — the staccato tapping of footsteps, the occasional sibilant rush of a passing vehicle, the faint fragrance given off by the flowers blooming in their wooden tubs. Tomorrow, this memory would be a treasured possession.
All at once, a familiar female voice piped up close to her left ear, “Shouldn’t you be packing up your office?”
Juno’s eyes blinked open. She reached into her pocket and activated the jamming device that she carried with her constantly now. Maintaining a neutral expression, she turned toward the source of the voice. “Good afternoon, Supreme Adjudicator Ellenshaw. Shouldn’t you be in the High Council chambers, voting on whether to have me arrested?” she returned.
Ellenshaw’s hair and eyes were blue today, the same shade as her blouse. Dark-skinned and imposing, she rounded the planter at the end of the bench and sat down beside Juno, letting out her breath in a sigh. “I’m sure Patricia Chen is looking forward to that, but there can’t be a vote until she has a quorum, and she won’t have a quorum until the last two High Councilors are officially sworn in. Rhys Amis and Arbo Lugaparathan actually did you a favor, running away off-world and getting themselves killed during the war. And all the Regional Councilors and District Councilors who bribed their way onto the evacuation ships, jumping the queue and leaving Earth in political chaos…? You owe them a debt, Juno. They bought you an extra four years in office, and pretty much a free hand to continue doing whatever you and Dennis had cooked up between you.”
“The Reformation. It was his plan. I just—” Executed it, she’d been about to say, then changed her mind. In her current circumstances, it would have been an unfortunate choice of words. “How long do you think I have left?”
“The swearing-in ceremony is scheduled for tomorrow morning, and the motion will most likely be made right afterward. I can argue against it and stall the vote for a few hours, but there’s nothing I can do to change the outcome, I’m afraid. You extorted the High Council and bent it to your own political will by making the Councilors believe that their families had been kidnapped. I know it was just a con job and that you did it for the greater good, but in the eyes of the law, it fits the definition of treason.”
Now that the word had been spoken aloud, it seemed to settle like a heavy weight onto Juno’s shoulders. “They mustn’t put everything back the way it was, Lynette,” she said. “You can’t let them.”
Leaning in confidentially, the other woman assured her, “Don’t worry. They already know they won’t be able to. You released the genie from the bottle when you expanded the New Chicago District Council to include representatives from the ‘Industrial Wilderness’. That was — what? Two years ago? By now, every governing council in every political union on the planet is aware of what you’ve accomplished here. And, as I believe someone once said, nothing is more powerful than an idea whose time has come.”
Whoever had said that was right. There might not be much left of the Earth Intelligence Service at this point, but Juno was still its Chief Intelligence Officer. She had contacts in several critical locations, keeping her apprised of developments worldwide. According to their reports, the idea of democratizing the District Councils was steadily catching on.
In Americas, Vancouverville and Lakeshore Ontario had already adopted the expanded model; and Atlantica and Havana were in the process of screening candidates from the surrounding Industrial Zones so that they could follow suit. Under pressure from the masses, three urban districts in Greater Europe, two in Pacifica, and another two in Indo-Asia were exploring the feasibility of switching over as well.
“Because of the way Earth’s government is structured,” Ellenshaw continued, “you’ve created a path to political power for any citizen with the will and the abilities to take it. If this continues, the Regional and High Councils will cease to function as an elite private club. That’s what has their members in such an uproar.” Her expression grew somber. “You’ve figuratively torn down their fence and peed in their sandbox. Now they’re determined to make you pay, and there’s nothing I can do to stop them. I wish there were. I don’t know whether Dennis foresaw this happening, or what he had in mind for you, Juno. All I can say is, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Juno said mildly. “I’m the one who chose to cross the line, and as you said, if not for the war, I would probably have been arrested years ago. Did Forrand ever tell you how I became his protégée? I was sixteen years old and Eligible, and determined to take back control of my life from the Relocation Authority. So, I sneaked into his office and got him to agree to teach me how to be as powerful as he was.”
“And he taught you well. You’ve changed the world.”
“Yes. But the exercise of that kind of power exacts a price. He warned me. The greater the power, the higher the personal cost. He talked about losing my privacy, and about sacrificing relationships. The rest of it he let me find out on my own. It’s ironic, really. All I wanted was to rule my own life, but by the time I was able to, I didn’t have much of a life left.”
Ellenshaw’s eyes filled with sympathy. “Sadly, it doesn’t surprise me to hear you say that.”
“And here’s a further irony for you, Lynette: Tomorrow morning, Richard Bascomb will be the new Chief Adjudicator for New Chicago, and I’m the one who made that possible. He joined the Council last year, representing the Agricultural Zone.” She uttered a syllable of laughter. “Well, he may be my enemy, but at least I know he won’t be overturning my changes to the composition of the District Council.”
Ellenshaw was shaking her head. “Richard isn’t your enemy, Juno. His father is. In fact, George Bascomb is the reason his son ended up working in the Industrial Wilderness in the first place. I don’t know about the other two boys, but as much as George hated Dennis, that’s how much Richard hates the general.”
Now, that was interesting. Juno widened her eyes and inquired, “Really? How do you know?”
“George and Dennis and I grew up together, so I’ve known the family for a long time. Darren and Hugh have inherited their father’s mean streak, but Richard takes after his late mother. He’s a decent, honest man. Trust me when I tell you that if he’s your successor, you’ll be leaving the District Council in good hands.”
“And you’re certain he can’t be influenced by his father?”
“Positive. General Bascomb only pulls strings at the highest level.”
Juno arched her eyebrows. “Patricia Chen?”
“He’s been pressuring her to arrest you for some time. It appears he wants you in a cell even more desperately than she does.” A pause, then, “It’s because of your connection to Dennis Forrand, you know. Up until the age of about seventeen, Dennis and George were best friends, practically inseparable. Then, overnight, that changed. I have no idea why. I only know that of all the enemies Dennis managed to acquire over the years — and there were many — George was always his most tenacious and vindictive adversary.
“When Dennis died, the hatred should have died as well, but it didn’t. George simply transferred it from the mentor to the protégée. I know how much Dennis trusted you, Juno. He made you the guardian of his legacy, knowing that you would do everything in your power to protect it.”
“Unfortunately, it appears my power is about to end. Last time I checked, the penalty for treason was death.”
“Very true. However,” she went on in a low, intense voice, “last time I checked, death was not necessarily a permanent condition in Dennis Forrand’s world. You’re too smart not to have planned for this. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
Juno considered for a moment. “There is one thing. Be a friend to Richard Bascomb, the way you’ve been for me. I have a feeling he’s going to need someone higher up watching his back from now on.”
“Of course I will. You know, there’s a Regional Council meeting tonight. Until you’re replaced as District Chief Adjudicator, you’re still a member. Will we see you there?”
This time she only pretended to think about it. “I’m a member in disgrace, about to be arrested,” she said. “I think it would be better for all concerned if I just went home instead.”
“Then this is goodbye?”
Ellenshaw’s eyes were shining. Fortunately, she didn’t lean in for a hug, and Juno was able to resist the urge to reach out to her. They’d been associated politically for many years, sometimes as allies, sometimes as opponents; but at this point, with charges of treason hanging over Juno’s head, it was vitally important for Ellenshaw’s career that they not be perceived as friends.
“I’m afraid so, Lynette. Take care of yourself.”
The Supreme Adjudicator hardened her expression. Then she got to her feet and walked rapidly away.
—— «» ——
Juno had known for some time that her house was being watched. She swept each room regularly for surveillance technology but could do nothing about the eyes trained on the exterior of the building. According to Novak, their owners reported to several individuals, including George Bascomb. That fact was going to prove quite useful in the days to come.
Juno made a final circuit of the house, ensuring that she wouldn’t be leaving anything important behind. The vote wouldn’t be taken until late tomorrow morning. The arrest warrant wouldn’t be issued and therefore couldn’t be legally executed until sometime in the afternoon. Not that a technicality like that would stop anyone on the High Council — or General Bascomb — from giving the order to swoop in and take her into custody tonight.
It was a quarter to midnight. She glanced at her suitcase, packed and sitting in the foyer. She was ready.
Five minutes later, she heard the crunching of tires outside as a vehicle pulled up in front of her verandah. Juno peered through the clear pane beside the door. The car bore Security markings. Two uniformed officers stepped out and stood for a moment, staring back at her. One of them touched the weapon at his side, as though warning her not to resist. Then they marched up to her front door, in tandem, and one of them pounded on it several times.
No words were spoken. In the glow cast by the porch light, she could clearly see that the officers’ jackets were dark blue and bore the insignia of Planetary Security. Of course they did, she thought as she swung the door wide for them.
“Madame Chief Adjudicator?” said the first man stiffly. “You know why we’re here?”
“Unfortunately, I do,” she replied, stepping back to let them enter, then shutting the door behind them. Once she knew they couldn’t be overheard by the watchers outside, she added, “That color suits you, by the way.”
“Thanks,” said Novak. “I always figured these uniforms would come in handy again.” He gestured toward the suitcase. “That’s it?”
“You told me to pack light. I’m taking only what belongs to Olivia Townsend. As for the rest … it should remain in the Forrand family. I’ll leave it to the advocates to handle the details.”
“You’ve filed a will?”
“Weeks ago, and a hard copy letter in an envelope marked, ‘If anything should happen to me’.”
“Then we’re all set,” he declared. “Is Madame Vargas ready to die?”
She made a face. “It’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”
“Not at all.” The other officer stepped forward now, and she recognized him as Doctor Nayo Naguchi, still going under the name Randall Chin. “Not here, anyway. But they will need to find some fresh blood at the secondary crime scene in order to draw their erroneous conclusion. Relax, my dear. I’ll be extracting it from your arm.” He was grinning from ear to ear, clearly enjoying this little adventure in the field.
“Kill the outside lights, Olivia,” Novak ordered. “Then pretend I just knocked you unconscious.”
Minutes later, two shadowy forms emerged from the house. Observers would later report that one of them had appeared to be carrying the limp body of a third person, which he had then placed across the back seat of the vehicle. The other one had been carrying something that might have been a suitcase, which he had apparently deposited in the trunk. It had been too dark to be certain of details, but one verifiable fact on which they would all agree was that the vehicle in question had come from the transportation pool of Planetary Security — the High Council’s special force, commanded by General George Bascomb.
“Wait a minute. Where are you taking me?” Olivia demanded from the back seat as they sped through the streets of New Chicago. “The Zone is the other way.”
“There’s been a change of plans,” Novak replied gruffly. “We get one chance to do this right, so stay down and stay quiet.”
She swallowed hard. The plan had been hers, but the op was Novak’s. Now he was in charge and she had no say in the matter, because Juno Vargas was dead. A corpse couldn’t dictate where it would be disposed of.
Her stomach writhing uneasily, she lay down across the seat. They were on the urbanway, apparently headed for the greenbelt. To keep her mind occupied, she focused on counting the overhead lights that slipped across the window above her feet.
After thirty-seven, there was only blackness.
“You can sit up now, my dear,” said Naguchi, adding unnecessarily, “We’ve just reached The Flats.”
Olivia pushed herself erect and peered outside. Behind her, the lights of New Chicago shrank to a galaxy of distant stars, then finally winked out, smothered by the pitch darkness that lay over the landscape like a blanket. Up ahead, the car’s headlamps revealed a narrow, rutted path, like the one that had taken her to Veggieville so many years earlier. Now, as then, she was riding helplessly at what felt like breakneck speed, deep into the wilderness.
Mustering as much indignation as felt safe under the circumstances, she asked, “Would one of you care to read me into this change of plans?”
“Nope,” Novak returned tightly. “We’ve got this, Olivia. We know what we’re doing.”
Really? She was beginning to have some doubts about that. With each passing second, the trail grew bumpier and the bouncing and swaying of the vehicle more pronounced. Novak was forced to slow down. All conversation ceased. At last, Olivia noticed a light, off to their left. It was moving back and forth, describing an arc in the air. Abruptly, Novak steered off-road toward it, driving the vehicle straight into a thicket of wildgrass tall enough to grope the windows. Then, just as abruptly, he braked and turned off the engine.
“We’re here,” he announced, and got out of the car.
The dome light came on in the cabin. As Olivia blinked against the sudden brightness, Naguchi turned in his seat. “And now, Ms. Townsend, if you wouldn’t mind lying down again, I’ll be needing about half a liter of your blood.”
She did as he asked, feeling strangely more comfortable with the notion of having a needle stuck into her arm than she’d been with the way Novak had been driving.
“He seems angry,” she remarked.
“He received some disturbing information earlier today.”
Naguchi didn’t elaborate, and she decided not to pursue the matter.
He’d been right — the needle didn’t hurt much. However, as she discovered when he gave her a hand getting out of the vehicle, the blood loss had left her a little unsteady on her feet.
With Novak supporting her on one side and Naguchi carrying her suitcase on the other, she managed to wade through the wanton growth of vegetation without passing out or turning an ankle. The swinging light had moved as well, leading them forward like a will o’ the wisp, into the woods and along a footpath to a clearing where three motos stood waiting. One of them sported a sidecar. The person who had been holding the light raised it to illuminate his face, and she recognized Zane ‘Man Mountain’ DeWitt, Novak’s second in command.
“Status?” Novak asked him.
“The pilot’s waiting. He’s ready to take off as soon as she’s aboard,” DeWitt reported. Then, without warning, he scooped Olivia into his arms and lowered her gently into the sidecar while Naguchi fastened her suitcase behind the rider’s seat.
“Where are you sending me, Barry?” she demanded, with effort keeping her voice steady.
“As we discussed, your final destination will be Stragon. Here — you’re going to need this to get through the checkpoints,” he added, handing her a biowafer. “Your transportation is already arranged and paid for. Zane will drive you to an old airstrip, where you’ll board a privately-owned shuttle. It will take you to Transfer Point Charlie. From there, I’ve arranged for an independent ship owner to pick you up and carry you the rest of the way, with a stopover at Daisy Hub.”
“Daisy Hub? But we were supposed to—!”
“No arguments, lady!” he cut her off sternly. “We spent a lot of time formulating our exit plan, and I spent even more time setting it up. Now the next step is yours. Everything you need will be aboard that shuttle.” Softening his tone, he continued, “You also asked me to help you put Olivia back together, and that’s what I’m doing. The final pieces are waiting for you on Daisy Hub. Reunite with your brother. Look him in the eyes and tell him what you’ve been wanting to say all these years but couldn’t. Then go conclude the op on Stragon, as we agreed.”
“And what about you?”
“I’ll be tying up the loose ends here on Earth.”
“After that, will you be joining me?”
“I don’t know how long the clean-up is going to take. And when I’m done—” He paused for a breath. “No promises, Olivia, but I’ll try.”
“Then I may never see you again. Barry, I—”
“It’s Tommy,” he corrected her, his gaze so intense that she could practically feel its heat on her face. “Tommy Novotny. Go now. And when you get to Daisy Hub, give Snooper my best regards.”
He stepped back to let DeWitt mount the moto. A moment after that, Olivia was on her way.
Several days later, a vehicle from the Planetary Security transportation pool was discovered, abandoned in tall grass in The Flats. The back seat was soaked with blood. DNA testing proved that it had come from Juno Vargas’s body. A medical expert confirmed that the quantity of blood lost would have been fatal. A scarf that Vargas had been seen wearing was subsequently found on the shore of a nearby pond. Dredging the pond turned up a suitcase containing more of her possessions, including some clothing and her biowafer. Of the body itself, however, there was no sign at all.