The Dyson File, page 28
“Well, if I knew I’d tell you, but I don’t,” Boaz replied.
“Whose idea was it to push back against the warrant?”
Boaz opened his mouth, but Alvaro cleared her throat.
“It was a collaborative decision,” the lawyer said. “Mister Boaz, the project team’s senior staff, and our legal staff were all involved.”
“Right,” Boaz agreed. “What she said.”
“Who made the final call?”
“I am the CEO,” Boaz answered, and Alvaro frowned beside him. “Need me to draw you an org chart?”
“I’ll take that to mean it was you,” Isaac said. “Next question. Who argued in favor of the legal action?”
“Again, it was a collaborative decision,” Alvaro cut in before Boaz could speak.
“Can you be any clearer?”
“There was some debate on how to proceed. Beyond that, I won’t say. The exact contents of the meeting are confidential.”
“Can you at least tell me who collected the data?”
“Each member of the project team was responsible for submitting their own relevant records.”
“But who put it all together?” Isaac pressed. “Who generated the data image? Who gave it to the legal team before it was transferred to Themis?”
“The senior engineer on the project,” Alvaro answered. “Leon Traczyk.”
Velasco’s jealous coworker? he thought. You put him in charge of the data?
“We’ll need to speak with him next.”
* * *
“I’m not sure what you expect to gain from talking to me,” Traczyk griped, slouching back in the conference room chair. Alvaro stood beside him, watchful as a hawk. “I can’t explain how some of the data went missing. Everything was there when I reviewed it.”
“Walk me through the process,” Isaac said. “How was the image put together and reviewed before being sent to us?”
“There’s not much to discuss. I received the instructions from Legal and forwarded them to every team member along with the deadline. Each of them, in turn, sent me an archive of the relevant files. I put their responses together into a single infostructure image and passed it on to the lawyers.”
“And after that?”
“I performed my own review of the image,” Alvaro explained. “After I finished, I sent it directly to Themis. No one else touched it.”
“If that’s so, then why didn’t you notice the missing data?”
“Because I wasn’t looking for gaps,” she replied stiffly.
“Then what were you looking for?”
“Confidential information outside the warrant’s scope.”
“Did you make any cuts before you sent it?”
“I did.”
“How many?”
“I partially redacted seventeen conversation streams and deleted three files from the image before forwarding it to SysPol. And before you ask, all of my decisions are thoroughly documented and wholly justified within the context of our agreement with Themis Legal. If you wish to challenge me on any of them, best come prepared.”
“Noted.” Isaac turned back to Traczyk. “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Why didn’t you catch the issues with the image?”
“I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”
“You said you performed your own review, correct?”
“Of course,” Traczyk replied, perhaps too quickly.
“You don’t sound entirely certain.”
“Look. I’ve been getting pulled in umpteen different directions lately. The last few days have been a blur with the project award, Velasco blowing his brains out, and us reshuffling the project team. Cut me some slack!”
“Did you or did you not check the image?”
“I did, okay. No need to get testy about it.”
“If I’m testy, it’s because someone in this company is concealing evidence.”
“Well, it’s not me, so go bark at someone else.”
“What I believe Mister Traczyk is trying to say—” Alvaro began.
“That’s quite all right,” Isaac cut in. “His initial statement was clear enough.”
Alvaro wrinkled her nose at him but didn’t otherwise respond.
Isaac took a hard look at Traczyk.
“You checked the image.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Thoroughly?”
“I don’t know. You can’t expect me to go through every last file. That’s why I delegated the work. It’s a big project team, and Legal set a tight deadline for us to push that image out the door.”
“A fair enough point, but you wouldn’t have had any difficulty checking your own correspondence, am I right?”
“Sure. I know it best, after all.”
“Have you played through the new Solar Descent season?”
“Uhh . . . ” Traczyk blinked, the question taking him off guard. “Yeah. What’s this have to do with anything?”
“I was simply curious, given our earlier discussions.” Isaac leaned back, forearm on the conference table. “Have you beaten it yet?”
“Hell no.” Traczyk’s mood seemed to brighten with the change in topic. “That damn final boss is a nightmare!”
“So I’ve heard. The . . . ?” Isaac prompted with a raised eyebrow.
“Onyx Ghost. Turns out he’s the traitor hiding in the Solar Guild.”
“Spoiler warning,” Alvaro muttered with a roll of her eyes.
“He opens the battle with this ridiculous AOE attack,” Traczyk continued. “Hit us for a ton of damage and inflicted everyone with Paralysis and Decay. And then the battle went downhill from there in a hurry!”
“Sounds nasty,” Isaac commented.
“Is there a point to this, Detective?” Alvaro asked.
“There is. Have you discussed how the season ends with anyone else on the project?”
“Oh, sure,” Traczyk said. “We have a few Descent parties on the team, so we’re always swapping stories and talking strategy. Everyone, and I mean everyone is worked up about this boss! It’s almost like the developers want players to die in that battle.”
“Sounds like it was the talk of the office.”
“Not the whole office, but yeah. A bunch of us plan to make another run through the scenario with fresh characters. We’ve been bouncing strategies back and forth.”
“And you made sure these messages were included in the image sent to Themis, correct?”
Traczyk’s expression soured.
“The search warrant covers personal correspondence of the project team within a set date range,” Isaac continued. “Therefore, knowing that, you certainly would have noticed if the biggest talk of the office was missing, would you not?”
Traczyk leaned back and turned to Alvaro with a worried, almost cringing expression.
“Why are you looking at me? It’s a valid question.”
“Was the Solar Descent correspondence in the image when you checked it?” Isaac pressed.
“What does it matter?”
“It matters because there are only two possibilities. Either you didn’t check it and the error slipped past you, or you did check it, which means you let the error through. Neither of those options cast you in a flattering light.”
“Fine!” Traczyk snapped. “You want to know what I did with the image?”
“What do you think I’ve been after this whole time?”
“I barely checked it, all right? I know I should have done more, but I was busy and tired and I just wanted to go home that night. So I took the files everyone else sent in, put a big, digital bow around them, and shipped them off to Alvaro. That’s it! You going to arrest me for that?”
“Not at present,” Isaac said carefully. “However—”
He paused, his attention grabbed by a high-priority alert that suddenly appeared in his inbox. An urgent message wasn’t unusual by itself; he received alerts all the time while on a case, but the source made this one stand out. It didn’t come from within SysPol or SSP but instead had been sent by Horace Pangu.
“However,” Isaac continued, returning his attention to the interview, “I must consider both possibilities until one or the other can be ruled out. You will need to register any travel plans with SysPol while this case remains open. Is that clear?”
“Yeah, it’s clear,” Traczyk groaned.
“Perfectly clear, Detective,” Alvaro replied crisply.
The interview broke up after that, but Isaac and Susan stayed in the conference room.
“You look like you’ve got something on your mind,” Susan said.
“I do. Pangu sent me a message while we were talking to Traczyk.”
“About what?”
“Not sure.” He accessed his mail.
The message read: CAN I SPEAK TO YOU IN PRIVATE? IT’S ABOUT THE CASE. I’M AT MY APARTMENT. [address attached]
Isaac glanced over to Susan, who gave him a wolfish grin.
“Sounds like he’s got something for us.”
* * *
Horace Pangu’s apartment was located in the Hanging Gardens on the same level as Velasco’s but in the opposite tower.
“Sorry,” Pangu said with a congenial smile, standing in the doorway to his apartment. “I thought only one of you would come. I didn’t mean to occupy both of you.”
“It’s quite all right,” Isaac replied. “May we come in?”
“Certainly. Please.” Pangu stepped back and gestured for them to enter.
The interior lacked any furnishings except for a pair of metal chairs printed from a public domain pattern.
“As you can see, I’m not used to entertaining guests,” Pangu said. “At least, not in the physical. Other than a synthoid charging casket and my desk in the bedroom, the apartment’s unfurnished. I told Atlas I’d be content living in a capsule apartment, but they insisted on the Hanging Gardens. Apparently, they receive a discount that increases the more staff they board here. Would you like me to print out another chair, Agent? Sorry, I only prepared the two.”
“It’s all right,” Susan said. “I’ll stand.”
Isaac sat down opposite the consultant. “You wished to speak with us concerning the case?”
“Yes, but before that, mind if I ask a question?”
“I don’t mind. Though whether or not I answer depends on the question.”
“I caught the news about that Society chair being arrested, and it brought to mind all of Velasco’s complaints about the harassment he’d received. Which, naturally, made me curious if the arrest led you anywhere.”
“Not especially, I’m afraid. At least, nowhere relevant to this case. Beyond that, I can’t say.”
“I see.” Pangu paused and stared off in thought, then shrugged indifferently. “The Society is an awful nuisance.”
“You’ll receive no argument from us.”
“But perhaps they didn’t have a hand in this,” Pangu finished. “Which brings us around to what I wanted to discuss.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t speak with us at the Atlas office. We spent a good chunk of our morning over there.”
“True, but I’m working from home today.”
“Any particular reason why?”
“Officially? I’m waiting on Traczyk to get caught up. No point in me heading in until he’s ready for me. Unofficially? I wanted to talk to you without Atlas Legal breathing down my neck.” He leaned in and lowered his voice for emphasis. “We’re all under orders not to speak with you unless there’s a lawyer in the room.”
“And yet here you are,” Susan observed.
“Quite.” Pangu flashed a sly grin. “Fortunately for me, I’m not an Atlas employee. I’ll make my own legal decisions, thank you very much. Which includes talking to SysPol when and where I please.”
“About?” Isaac prompted politely.
“Velasco and Boaz. You see, the Society wasn’t the only source of stress Velasco complained about regularly. Boaz was another one. Or, more specifically, Velasco’s regular one-on-one meetings with Boaz.”
“Which seems painfully normal, given the nature of their professional relationship.”
“Under normal circumstances, I’d agree. But I’ve been doing some thinking since he passed. Trying my best to figure out what wormed its way into his head to make him pull that trigger.”
“And you believe Boaz might have had something to do with it?”
Pangu nodded.
“Why?”
“It has to do with the . . . temperament of their meetings. They changed over time.”
“In what way?”
“They grew increasingly hostile. Or so it seemed. I wasn’t privy to the meetings themselves, of course, but I saw Velasco after most of them. Now there was the picture of a man who’d been verbally pummeled to within a millimeter of his life, and it only grew worse with time.”
“Which is unfortunate, but again, fits the nature of their relationship.”
“True, but would it surprise you to learn Velasco was in tears after their last meeting? Held just three days before he committed suicide?”
“Three days . . . ” The number tickled a part of Isaac’s mind. He opened his notes and scrolled through one of Nina’s reports. “That’s the same day Velasco printed out the gun.”
“You believe that conversation pushed Velasco to kill himself?” Susan asked.
“I’m not sure,” Pangu admitted. “But whatever they discussed, it cut him to the core. Of that, I’m certain.”
“Hmm,” Isaac murmured.
“You seem doubtful, Detective.”
“Because I am. I appreciate the information, but Boaz being the kind of boss that can reduce employees to tears isn’t exactly actionable evidence. Furthermore, we spoke to Boaz this morning, and he seemed completely blindsided by the problems Atlas has had responding to our search warrant.”
“I’m sorry.” Pangu’s eyes widened. “What did you just say?”
“That Boaz was blindsided?”
“By how messages with the word ‘ghost’ in them were missing?” Pangu filled in.
“Yes.” Isaac raised an eyebrow at the consultant. “How do you know that?”
“Because he asked me about the missing messages yesterday.”
* * *
“Want to head back to Atlas and grill Boaz again?” Susan asked as they headed back to the car.
“As tempting as that might be, we need to be cautious. He’ll be lawyered up and ready for us, which means we need stronger evidence than something he can pass off as a ‘miscommunication.’ Let’s head back to the station and check in with Hoopler. I’m curious to see if her team has made any progress with Bao.”
“And if they haven’t?”
“Not sure. I suppose we could take another crack at him ourselves.”
The rental slid its doors open and they climbed in.
“Vehicle,” Isaac said. “Take us to the 103rd Precinct Building.”
“Destination set,” the car replied. “Departing.”
The door slid shut, and the rental pulled out of the apartment complex.
An alert appeared in his peripheral vision halfway to the station.
“Finally.” Isaac smiled as he answered the call.
“Hey, Isaac,” Nina said. “You ready for—” She paused to take a long and vocal yawn that threatened to unhinge her lower jaw. “Wow! Excuse me!”
“You okay there?”
“Never better. You ready for some good news?”
“Always.”
“I found traces of a rare microbot on a few surfaces in the container, along with prints and DNA traces that don’t match the two hoodlums you brought in.”
“Any hits on the database?”
“One. A small-time thug named Robert Chase. Goes by the ever so creative alias ‘Big Bobby.’” She rolled her eyes.
“Byte Pyrate?”
“No. His SSP file says he’s not openly affiliated with any one gang. Rather, he performs odd jobs for a few different clients. Stuff like running material from point A to B or delivering ‘messages.’ You know, the kind that come from his fists. Multiple counts of assault and possession of stolen property and patterns. The Byte Pyrates don’t show up in his profile, but his clientele is broad enough that it might include them and SSP hasn’t noticed yet. That possibility got me to thinking about those weird microbots.”
“What kind of machines are we talking about?” Susan asked.
“Some sort of construction self-replicator,” Nina said. “Inactive but high end. It’s not a publicly registered design.”
“Which means?”
“Could be some company’s exclusive design.”
“And you don’t know which one?”
“Technically, all self-replicator patterns are supposed to be registered,” Isaac explained, “but there’s a loophole in the law. If a replicating system is considered ‘under development,’ then the law loses its teeth. Companies will sometimes use the loophole to keep their designs under wraps.”
“There’s another possibility,” Nina added. “It could be from an iteration that didn’t pan out. If the microbots were only used in a limited fashion—like a single deployment test—then there’s no legal requirement to register them.”
“Which makes tracking down the source a pain,” Isaac said.
“Except”—Nina’s eyes twinkled despite her fatigue—“there’s more than one way to sniff them out. I ran the microbots through the city’s pollution map and found several hits, all of them in the upper reaches of the city. One of those locations has a density index ten times higher than the others.”
A map of the Third Engine Block appeared beside the comm window, showing the horizontal Y of the city’s main corridors through Janus. Tiny pips of red throbbed along the ceiling, haphazardly sprayed across both branches of the Y. One of those pips pulsed brighter than the others. Much brighter.
Isaac zoomed in. “A decommissioned reactor?”
“Say hello to the old Kamiya-Franklin Energy Plant,” Nina said. “Perfect spot for a gang to hide out. My guess is the Byte Pyrates are holed up in there, and they hired Big Bobby Chase to run materials between the KF reactor and the container base.”
