Exodus, page 46
“No,” Finn admitted. “But to be fair, we haven’t even got the generator wired in yet. Malvin is setting up the comms system. I need to go and supervise,” he said pointedly.
“Any preliminary discussions about cargo?”
“No. But don’t worry, I’ve got meetings scheduled with cargo agents in High Rosa. As soon as I sign them up, we can start accepting flight charters.”
“Good, yeah; good for you. I might have something.”
Finn laughed. “Of course you might.” His humor faded as he saw how serious Gyvoy had become. “I’m just looking for cargo. Once we’re secure financially, I’ll start thinking about exploring Remnant Era worlds.”
“It’s not that. There’s an…item I need collected. Something so important, it’ll benefit every human in the Kelowan system.”
“You’re overdoing the sales pitch.”
“No, I’m not. Unless we bring this back here, humans will suffer on a scale not known for millennia; we’ll fall into the same state we were on Old Earth.” He stared intently at Ellie. “Your flight here will have been for nothing.”
“Oh, come on,” she snorted. “This is the most stable society in the Centauri Cluster. Everyone says that. And from what I’ve seen, I believe them.”
“Okay,” Gyvoy drew a breath. “Have you ever heard the term ‘iron exotic’?”
* * *
—
Finn had to shake himself to concentrate on the here-and-now. His thoughts were scattered, drifting, trying to put together the implications…
“Are you making fun of me?” Ellie asked suspiciously when Gyvoy finished explaining. “A planet where it rains iron? Seriously? This is a hazing, right?”
“No,” Finn told her cautiously. “They do exist. The planet’s composition has to be just right, and they have to be in an orbit close enough to their star to heat them up to the right temperature. They’re incredibly rare.”
“And this Dolod gas giant is one of them?”
“Yes,” Gyvoy said. “A flyby mission checked the planet’s composition; there’s no mistake. It means disaster for Anoosha’s economy, which in turn will impact Gondiar.”
“Not so much,” Finn said. All those economic lectures he’d attended were whirling through his mind; he was trying to fit them to the implications Gyvoy had laid out. “The Celestials are the primary market for Gondiar’s food.”
“Great, so consign Anoosha to a financial death spiral. If their industry collapses, who’s going to supply Gondiar with agricultural machinery?”
Finn shrugged, feeling really bad about it, but—“The Celestials. It’ll be nothing to them; agricultural machines are the Stone Age to them. Manufacturing them will be simplicity itself.”
“So their grip on Gondiar will become absolute. Economic slavery is still slavery, just without the chains.”
“We’re pretty much dependent on them anyway. Be realistic.”
“I know. But, hey, Finn, you’ve got the Diligent. You can leave, so no problem, right? And who cares about Anoosha? You think iron exotics like Dolod are rare, what about a semi-independent human society in the Centauri Cluster? Can you even name one as prosperous as the human worlds in the Crown Dominion?”
“Okay, yeah, but—”
“We have potential here—and you don’t have to tell me how it’s wasted. But it’s here, Finn, like nowhere else. That makes us the most important, the most precious, humans in the Centauri Cluster. We are hope, Finn, the supernova of example blazing out for every human to see. No matter what dismal planet they’re on, humans can look into the night sky and know that we don’t have to be lowlife that’s barely tolerated and always oppressed. And if you take Anoosha from us—our single industrial and technological base—knock it back into poverty-riddled uranic fiefdoms, we have nothing. No hope, no future. Take away Anoosha, and all Gondiar humans will ever be is tenant farmers. How would you like that, Finn? If you hadn’t been born now—if instead you were to be born in two hundred years’ time—would you have the opportunity to escape on a starship? Because that’s what you’re doing now, isn’t it?”
“Asteria! All right, I get it.”
“Then explain it to me,” Ellie said. “We’re talking about a gas giant that’s been traveling through interstellar space at a temperature just a few degrees above absolute zero for ten or twenty thousand years, right? How long is it going to take to heat that atmosphere up to a temperature that will produce liquid iron?”
Gyvoy appeared to consider the question as if it was completely reasonable. “Maybe a century, maybe two; depends how far out from the star it finally settles into orbit. Just far enough away to produce the rain, but not so close and hot to make the rain harvesting operation unviable.”
“Okay, so Anoosha has those centuries to change, to invest in new technologies and divest itself of its mining operations.”
Finn winced.
“Oh, yeah,” Gyvoy said. “Because we all know the Crown Dominion is renowned for its revolutions and transformations. I expect the Celestial Grand Families that own the Anoosha mining enterprises will come running to spend their funds on manufacturing systems that will advance the human industrial science base and promote us to being an awkward new faction within the empress’s domain. Because we don’t have the potential to break out of our niche.”
“There’s no need to be an asshole about it,” she said stiffly.
Finn gave Gyvoy a curious glance. He was almost afraid to ask the question that had suddenly become so obvious. “What is it you want the Diligent to collect?” In his head he was trying to think of a weapon that could make a difference to a flying planet. Anything involving that kind of power level would be utterly terrifying.
“Not the Diligent, Finn,” Gyvoy said with a sad smile. “You. What I want you to collect.”
“Oh, shit. Gyvoy, what…?”
“All this talk of development and economics is irrelevant. Even if we had weapons, we can’t wage war on the Celestials. What did you imagine? A secret Traveler strike fleet destroying the industrial facilities that manufacture iron rain harvesters? No. We have one chance, one single moment that matters here, Dolod’s closest approach to Kelowan’s star. That’s when the Archimedes Engine will make its course correction. Either it goes into orbit and rains iron, or, possible but everyone thinks unlikely, it’ll carry on toward another star system. What we do is ensure it’s the latter.”
“So we blow the engine up? Without the momentum transfer, Dolod will just fly through the Kelowan system and head off back into interstellar space, right?”
Gyvoy’s laugh was harsh. “This is a medium-size gas giant we’re talking about here, Finn. There is no single super-huge rocket engine that performs the momentum transfer. The Archimedes Engine is thousands of units floating through the atmosphere. Acting together, they contain the planet in a mesh of quintessence lines. That is how momentum between planets and stars is effected. Blowing up one unit—a hundred—will make no difference.”
“How then?”
Gyvoy’s patronizing smile was instantly annoying. “We switch it off.”
“What the fuck?”
“Even something with a godlike ability and sophistication—like an Archimedes Engine—has an operating system.”
“Yes? So?”
“So it doesn’t make its own decisions. It’s not sentient; it is programmed to perform its operations. But if we can access the operating system, we simply shut it down.”
“And you’ve got…got what? What weapon can do that?”
“I know where there is a copy of the operating system. I want you to fly the Diligent there and connect with the operating system. Learn how it works, Finn. Then stop Dolod from going into orbit around Kelowan’s star.”
Time juddered to a halt, though somehow Finn could still hear the blood rushing round his body. “Me? Connect? To an Archimedes Engine?”
“We always knew this would require a uranic. There are several who are in alignment with our goal. Good people. But Finn, you! You connected with the Lestari’s fusion engines. You can control Celestial machinery. I’ve never heard Uzoma praise anyone like she did you.”
“Asteria’s arse, you have got to be kidding!”
“No. I am completely serious.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not? You have already proved your talent. Dear Asteria Herself has blessed us. Here you are, with this ability, at this time. Do not tell me this isn’t destiny writ large. You’re the one, Finn. You’re the one who’s going to secure the future for all humans in this part of the galaxy.”
“This is crazy,” Ellie exclaimed. “You can’t expect him to agree to this.”
“Why not? Finn is our greatest chance of success. Would you deny people that? You’ve seen the success of Hafnir, what can be accomplished by someone with vision and drive. Your blood, Ellie; Josias is proving an inspiration to a whole generation who are waking up to what they can achieve if they’re given the chance. If we fail, if the iron exotic goes into orbit, what will become of Hafnir? All the aspirations of the people you brought here, the effort and sacrifice of your ancestors throughout the flight—your own mother—all that will turn to dust. You might just as well have stayed in the Sol system.”
Finn gave her a helpless look. “What do I do?”
“I don’t know. So help me, I don’t know. This is so monstrously huge, asking you to do this. It’s wrong and you know it,” she wound up practically shouting at Gyvoy.
“A power greater than we can ever understand sent a planet flying toward us,” Gyvoy countered. “Is that ‘right’? Is not having a choice about it ‘right’? Do you think I am enjoying asking Finn to do this? I’m asking him because I am desperate for us to succeed, and he is the best uranic we have. We have one chance, it has to work.” He slumped back in the chair, a sullen expression settling on his face. “Finn, if you say no, I will leave. No hard feelings.”
“Ha, that I do not believe,” Finn said firmly.
Gyvoy gave him a sheepish grin. “Yeah, well. Okay, let me add a sweetener. I’ll pay, of course. For the whole trip—far more than any charter money. Enough to set you up as a fully independent trader. After this, you’ll be able to afford to go anywhere.”
“You have that kind of money?”
“Yes.”
“The Enfoe Dynasty is rich, but…”
“There are certain people—call them Human Liberation adjacent if you like, but it’s more than that. Not everyone on Anoosha is a shortsighted corporate profiteer. Some members of the bigger, more prosperous industrialist families realize what impact harvesting iron rain will have on their own legacy.”
“The last time I worked for an Anoosha company, it did not end well.”
“I disagree. Look where you’ve wound up. But—” He held his hands up as Finn began to protest. “I’m not asking you to do this alone. I’ll be coming along, and I’ll be bringing some serious protection with me.”
Finn looked at Ellie.
“I can’t make this decision for you,” she said.
“I understand. What I need to know from you is: If I agree, will you come with me?”
She took a long moment. “Yes. I will.”
“Thank you.” He turned back to Gyvoy. “I hated my life. My family has the best of it on Gondiar, but that still wasn’t enough. I never saw any change, any progress. Now Hafnir has brought that. Yes it’s a tiny change, especially on a planet Gondiar’s size, but it’s a start. My mother and all the marchionesses before her have spent eight hundred years working to maintain a decent human status in the Crown Dominion. I never thought it was anything near enough, which is why I’m here today. The idea that what little freedom people here have could be reduced after everything the Jalgori-Tobus have done cannot stand. So yes, I’ll try to connect with the operating system of an Archimedes Engine, may Asteria preserve me.”
Gyvoy came over and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, man. They’re going to build statues of you across the Centauri Cluster. No: moons. They’ll sculpt whole moons in your image.”
“I really doubt it.”
“Sure they will.”
“Okay. So exactly where the hell do we find a copy of the operating system?”
“The factory where they used to build Archimedes Engines, of course. We’re going to fly to Kingsnest.”
“Asteria’s arse! For real?”
“Oh, yeah. With a quick side trip to Kajval first.”
“Okay, boys,” Ellie said sharply. “Enough. Where is Kingsnest?”
“Wrong question,” Finn said happily. “What, not where. You know you thought Gondiar’s georing was the most amazing macrostructure ever?”
“Yes…”
“It’s not. But Kingsnest is.”
* * *
—
The committee didn’t have a name. In fact, Terence Wilson-Fletcher wasn’t sure you could call it a committee. Certainly it wasn’t official; just three people with a job to do. They met every few months in a room deep underneath the Zetian Palace; Terence’s globecab took him there via a private tunnel from an ordinary residential block on the edge of Makeda Park. Presumably Zelinda Jalgori-Tobu just walked downstairs. As for Fábilo deMederios, the Inspector General of the Treasury’s Office of Financial Investigation, Terence assumed there was a tunnel between the Treasury building and the palace, as there was never a second globecab parked next to his own in the little garage.
Apart from the lack of windows, there was no way of telling the room was underground. It was as elaborate as all senior civil service offices, with leather chairs and artwork that had been fashionable when commissioned.
They discussed progress on several cases Fábilo had launched, tracking the finances of five individuals Terence had named at their last meeting. Erwin Desai, one of the five, a fruit merchant and prominent Human Liberation supporter, had received a large payment from an anonymized Treasury coin—money he was using to support several Santa Rosa councilors who believed in Human Liberation.
“What are the councilors doing with the money?” Zelinda asked.
“Financing supporters and campaigns,” Terence said. “And taking a large cut for themselves.”
“We traced the transfers back through three coins,” Fábilo said. “The first in the chain received its payment from a Celestial coin issued and verified by the Tinaja Treasury.”
“Excellent work, thank you,” Terence said. Makaio-Faraji would be most interested in that—though even the archon might have trouble tracing the origin of the money further back. Whoever it was in the Tinaja system that made the payment would be long gone. On the other hand, it was the third time in the last two years they’d seen funding coming from Tinaja. The evidence against offworld backing and Traveler couriers was irrefutable, but Terence still didn’t understand what the goal was.
“Do you want me to place Desai under an official tax examination?” Fábilo asked.
“No. We know who he is and have confirmed what he’s doing; that makes him useful. I’ll increase the monitors I have running on him. The way Desai’s spending the money he kept for himself, he’s going to need more pretty soon. It turns out he has a mistress: Casilla Porcu. She’s not uranic, but her family is well off. That means she has expensive tastes.”
They all shared a smile at that.
“I wonder what his controller would think about that?” Fábilo mused.
“If they have any sense, getting stiffed by a nonentity like Desai will be built into the budget,” Terence said.
“You’re such a cynic.”
“One thing my analytics spotted: a couple of times the money couriers were observed making contact with Regal Democrat candidates.”
Zelinda let out an exasperated groan. “Did they accept funds?”
“Still looking into that. I’m expanding the monitors to see if their spending patterns change.”
“Thank you. If you have any evidence my extremely embarrassing brother-in-law is receiving offworld funding to advance his politics, I need to know immediately.”
“Of course.”
“If Regal Democrats accept funds, I want you to come down hard on them,” Zelinda told Fábilo. “Put the fear of Asteria Herself into them. Make an example of them, to discourage others.”
“Count on it,” Fábilo said.
“I’m not sure the Regal Democrats need additional funds,” Terence told her. “They’re more than just a grievance vote like Human Liberation; they have actual financial policies that promise to deliver, and they’ve got Hafnir as proof they work as claimed.”
“Although you haven’t seen him receive offworld funding, Josias is still managing to cause trouble,” Zelinda said. “These economic reforms Regal Democrats are advocating are untried. He might not be funded by some other dominion, but he’s certainly proving more effective in achieving the goals of Human Liberation than they are themselves. Regal Democracy candidates have two candidates standing in Santa Rosa. That is not optimum. Nobody wants them spreading.”
“Okay,” Terence conceded. “All political activity goes into my reports anyway. The archon can decide if he wants me to run greater observation on Josias.”
* * *
—
Officially, the charter was for the Diligent to fly to Hoa Quinzu and Kingsnest so that they could search for Remnant Era salvage; that’s what Captain Dejean and the crew were told. Finn never mentioned the Archimedes Engine operating system to anyone, and Ellie was diplomatic about it, too. His rationalization was that the Diligent would be in orbit both times; all the risk would be on the landing teams.
He’d had a painful goodbye with Otylia when she came up to High Rosa the day before they left. He’d signed over final authority to manage what was left of his estate to her, while she gave him and Ellie their Hafnir certificates of residence.
“Any preliminary discussions about cargo?”
“No. But don’t worry, I’ve got meetings scheduled with cargo agents in High Rosa. As soon as I sign them up, we can start accepting flight charters.”
“Good, yeah; good for you. I might have something.”
Finn laughed. “Of course you might.” His humor faded as he saw how serious Gyvoy had become. “I’m just looking for cargo. Once we’re secure financially, I’ll start thinking about exploring Remnant Era worlds.”
“It’s not that. There’s an…item I need collected. Something so important, it’ll benefit every human in the Kelowan system.”
“You’re overdoing the sales pitch.”
“No, I’m not. Unless we bring this back here, humans will suffer on a scale not known for millennia; we’ll fall into the same state we were on Old Earth.” He stared intently at Ellie. “Your flight here will have been for nothing.”
“Oh, come on,” she snorted. “This is the most stable society in the Centauri Cluster. Everyone says that. And from what I’ve seen, I believe them.”
“Okay,” Gyvoy drew a breath. “Have you ever heard the term ‘iron exotic’?”
* * *
—
Finn had to shake himself to concentrate on the here-and-now. His thoughts were scattered, drifting, trying to put together the implications…
“Are you making fun of me?” Ellie asked suspiciously when Gyvoy finished explaining. “A planet where it rains iron? Seriously? This is a hazing, right?”
“No,” Finn told her cautiously. “They do exist. The planet’s composition has to be just right, and they have to be in an orbit close enough to their star to heat them up to the right temperature. They’re incredibly rare.”
“And this Dolod gas giant is one of them?”
“Yes,” Gyvoy said. “A flyby mission checked the planet’s composition; there’s no mistake. It means disaster for Anoosha’s economy, which in turn will impact Gondiar.”
“Not so much,” Finn said. All those economic lectures he’d attended were whirling through his mind; he was trying to fit them to the implications Gyvoy had laid out. “The Celestials are the primary market for Gondiar’s food.”
“Great, so consign Anoosha to a financial death spiral. If their industry collapses, who’s going to supply Gondiar with agricultural machinery?”
Finn shrugged, feeling really bad about it, but—“The Celestials. It’ll be nothing to them; agricultural machines are the Stone Age to them. Manufacturing them will be simplicity itself.”
“So their grip on Gondiar will become absolute. Economic slavery is still slavery, just without the chains.”
“We’re pretty much dependent on them anyway. Be realistic.”
“I know. But, hey, Finn, you’ve got the Diligent. You can leave, so no problem, right? And who cares about Anoosha? You think iron exotics like Dolod are rare, what about a semi-independent human society in the Centauri Cluster? Can you even name one as prosperous as the human worlds in the Crown Dominion?”
“Okay, yeah, but—”
“We have potential here—and you don’t have to tell me how it’s wasted. But it’s here, Finn, like nowhere else. That makes us the most important, the most precious, humans in the Centauri Cluster. We are hope, Finn, the supernova of example blazing out for every human to see. No matter what dismal planet they’re on, humans can look into the night sky and know that we don’t have to be lowlife that’s barely tolerated and always oppressed. And if you take Anoosha from us—our single industrial and technological base—knock it back into poverty-riddled uranic fiefdoms, we have nothing. No hope, no future. Take away Anoosha, and all Gondiar humans will ever be is tenant farmers. How would you like that, Finn? If you hadn’t been born now—if instead you were to be born in two hundred years’ time—would you have the opportunity to escape on a starship? Because that’s what you’re doing now, isn’t it?”
“Asteria! All right, I get it.”
“Then explain it to me,” Ellie said. “We’re talking about a gas giant that’s been traveling through interstellar space at a temperature just a few degrees above absolute zero for ten or twenty thousand years, right? How long is it going to take to heat that atmosphere up to a temperature that will produce liquid iron?”
Gyvoy appeared to consider the question as if it was completely reasonable. “Maybe a century, maybe two; depends how far out from the star it finally settles into orbit. Just far enough away to produce the rain, but not so close and hot to make the rain harvesting operation unviable.”
“Okay, so Anoosha has those centuries to change, to invest in new technologies and divest itself of its mining operations.”
Finn winced.
“Oh, yeah,” Gyvoy said. “Because we all know the Crown Dominion is renowned for its revolutions and transformations. I expect the Celestial Grand Families that own the Anoosha mining enterprises will come running to spend their funds on manufacturing systems that will advance the human industrial science base and promote us to being an awkward new faction within the empress’s domain. Because we don’t have the potential to break out of our niche.”
“There’s no need to be an asshole about it,” she said stiffly.
Finn gave Gyvoy a curious glance. He was almost afraid to ask the question that had suddenly become so obvious. “What is it you want the Diligent to collect?” In his head he was trying to think of a weapon that could make a difference to a flying planet. Anything involving that kind of power level would be utterly terrifying.
“Not the Diligent, Finn,” Gyvoy said with a sad smile. “You. What I want you to collect.”
“Oh, shit. Gyvoy, what…?”
“All this talk of development and economics is irrelevant. Even if we had weapons, we can’t wage war on the Celestials. What did you imagine? A secret Traveler strike fleet destroying the industrial facilities that manufacture iron rain harvesters? No. We have one chance, one single moment that matters here, Dolod’s closest approach to Kelowan’s star. That’s when the Archimedes Engine will make its course correction. Either it goes into orbit and rains iron, or, possible but everyone thinks unlikely, it’ll carry on toward another star system. What we do is ensure it’s the latter.”
“So we blow the engine up? Without the momentum transfer, Dolod will just fly through the Kelowan system and head off back into interstellar space, right?”
Gyvoy’s laugh was harsh. “This is a medium-size gas giant we’re talking about here, Finn. There is no single super-huge rocket engine that performs the momentum transfer. The Archimedes Engine is thousands of units floating through the atmosphere. Acting together, they contain the planet in a mesh of quintessence lines. That is how momentum between planets and stars is effected. Blowing up one unit—a hundred—will make no difference.”
“How then?”
Gyvoy’s patronizing smile was instantly annoying. “We switch it off.”
“What the fuck?”
“Even something with a godlike ability and sophistication—like an Archimedes Engine—has an operating system.”
“Yes? So?”
“So it doesn’t make its own decisions. It’s not sentient; it is programmed to perform its operations. But if we can access the operating system, we simply shut it down.”
“And you’ve got…got what? What weapon can do that?”
“I know where there is a copy of the operating system. I want you to fly the Diligent there and connect with the operating system. Learn how it works, Finn. Then stop Dolod from going into orbit around Kelowan’s star.”
Time juddered to a halt, though somehow Finn could still hear the blood rushing round his body. “Me? Connect? To an Archimedes Engine?”
“We always knew this would require a uranic. There are several who are in alignment with our goal. Good people. But Finn, you! You connected with the Lestari’s fusion engines. You can control Celestial machinery. I’ve never heard Uzoma praise anyone like she did you.”
“Asteria’s arse, you have got to be kidding!”
“No. I am completely serious.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not? You have already proved your talent. Dear Asteria Herself has blessed us. Here you are, with this ability, at this time. Do not tell me this isn’t destiny writ large. You’re the one, Finn. You’re the one who’s going to secure the future for all humans in this part of the galaxy.”
“This is crazy,” Ellie exclaimed. “You can’t expect him to agree to this.”
“Why not? Finn is our greatest chance of success. Would you deny people that? You’ve seen the success of Hafnir, what can be accomplished by someone with vision and drive. Your blood, Ellie; Josias is proving an inspiration to a whole generation who are waking up to what they can achieve if they’re given the chance. If we fail, if the iron exotic goes into orbit, what will become of Hafnir? All the aspirations of the people you brought here, the effort and sacrifice of your ancestors throughout the flight—your own mother—all that will turn to dust. You might just as well have stayed in the Sol system.”
Finn gave her a helpless look. “What do I do?”
“I don’t know. So help me, I don’t know. This is so monstrously huge, asking you to do this. It’s wrong and you know it,” she wound up practically shouting at Gyvoy.
“A power greater than we can ever understand sent a planet flying toward us,” Gyvoy countered. “Is that ‘right’? Is not having a choice about it ‘right’? Do you think I am enjoying asking Finn to do this? I’m asking him because I am desperate for us to succeed, and he is the best uranic we have. We have one chance, it has to work.” He slumped back in the chair, a sullen expression settling on his face. “Finn, if you say no, I will leave. No hard feelings.”
“Ha, that I do not believe,” Finn said firmly.
Gyvoy gave him a sheepish grin. “Yeah, well. Okay, let me add a sweetener. I’ll pay, of course. For the whole trip—far more than any charter money. Enough to set you up as a fully independent trader. After this, you’ll be able to afford to go anywhere.”
“You have that kind of money?”
“Yes.”
“The Enfoe Dynasty is rich, but…”
“There are certain people—call them Human Liberation adjacent if you like, but it’s more than that. Not everyone on Anoosha is a shortsighted corporate profiteer. Some members of the bigger, more prosperous industrialist families realize what impact harvesting iron rain will have on their own legacy.”
“The last time I worked for an Anoosha company, it did not end well.”
“I disagree. Look where you’ve wound up. But—” He held his hands up as Finn began to protest. “I’m not asking you to do this alone. I’ll be coming along, and I’ll be bringing some serious protection with me.”
Finn looked at Ellie.
“I can’t make this decision for you,” she said.
“I understand. What I need to know from you is: If I agree, will you come with me?”
She took a long moment. “Yes. I will.”
“Thank you.” He turned back to Gyvoy. “I hated my life. My family has the best of it on Gondiar, but that still wasn’t enough. I never saw any change, any progress. Now Hafnir has brought that. Yes it’s a tiny change, especially on a planet Gondiar’s size, but it’s a start. My mother and all the marchionesses before her have spent eight hundred years working to maintain a decent human status in the Crown Dominion. I never thought it was anything near enough, which is why I’m here today. The idea that what little freedom people here have could be reduced after everything the Jalgori-Tobus have done cannot stand. So yes, I’ll try to connect with the operating system of an Archimedes Engine, may Asteria preserve me.”
Gyvoy came over and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, man. They’re going to build statues of you across the Centauri Cluster. No: moons. They’ll sculpt whole moons in your image.”
“I really doubt it.”
“Sure they will.”
“Okay. So exactly where the hell do we find a copy of the operating system?”
“The factory where they used to build Archimedes Engines, of course. We’re going to fly to Kingsnest.”
“Asteria’s arse! For real?”
“Oh, yeah. With a quick side trip to Kajval first.”
“Okay, boys,” Ellie said sharply. “Enough. Where is Kingsnest?”
“Wrong question,” Finn said happily. “What, not where. You know you thought Gondiar’s georing was the most amazing macrostructure ever?”
“Yes…”
“It’s not. But Kingsnest is.”
* * *
—
The committee didn’t have a name. In fact, Terence Wilson-Fletcher wasn’t sure you could call it a committee. Certainly it wasn’t official; just three people with a job to do. They met every few months in a room deep underneath the Zetian Palace; Terence’s globecab took him there via a private tunnel from an ordinary residential block on the edge of Makeda Park. Presumably Zelinda Jalgori-Tobu just walked downstairs. As for Fábilo deMederios, the Inspector General of the Treasury’s Office of Financial Investigation, Terence assumed there was a tunnel between the Treasury building and the palace, as there was never a second globecab parked next to his own in the little garage.
Apart from the lack of windows, there was no way of telling the room was underground. It was as elaborate as all senior civil service offices, with leather chairs and artwork that had been fashionable when commissioned.
They discussed progress on several cases Fábilo had launched, tracking the finances of five individuals Terence had named at their last meeting. Erwin Desai, one of the five, a fruit merchant and prominent Human Liberation supporter, had received a large payment from an anonymized Treasury coin—money he was using to support several Santa Rosa councilors who believed in Human Liberation.
“What are the councilors doing with the money?” Zelinda asked.
“Financing supporters and campaigns,” Terence said. “And taking a large cut for themselves.”
“We traced the transfers back through three coins,” Fábilo said. “The first in the chain received its payment from a Celestial coin issued and verified by the Tinaja Treasury.”
“Excellent work, thank you,” Terence said. Makaio-Faraji would be most interested in that—though even the archon might have trouble tracing the origin of the money further back. Whoever it was in the Tinaja system that made the payment would be long gone. On the other hand, it was the third time in the last two years they’d seen funding coming from Tinaja. The evidence against offworld backing and Traveler couriers was irrefutable, but Terence still didn’t understand what the goal was.
“Do you want me to place Desai under an official tax examination?” Fábilo asked.
“No. We know who he is and have confirmed what he’s doing; that makes him useful. I’ll increase the monitors I have running on him. The way Desai’s spending the money he kept for himself, he’s going to need more pretty soon. It turns out he has a mistress: Casilla Porcu. She’s not uranic, but her family is well off. That means she has expensive tastes.”
They all shared a smile at that.
“I wonder what his controller would think about that?” Fábilo mused.
“If they have any sense, getting stiffed by a nonentity like Desai will be built into the budget,” Terence said.
“You’re such a cynic.”
“One thing my analytics spotted: a couple of times the money couriers were observed making contact with Regal Democrat candidates.”
Zelinda let out an exasperated groan. “Did they accept funds?”
“Still looking into that. I’m expanding the monitors to see if their spending patterns change.”
“Thank you. If you have any evidence my extremely embarrassing brother-in-law is receiving offworld funding to advance his politics, I need to know immediately.”
“Of course.”
“If Regal Democrats accept funds, I want you to come down hard on them,” Zelinda told Fábilo. “Put the fear of Asteria Herself into them. Make an example of them, to discourage others.”
“Count on it,” Fábilo said.
“I’m not sure the Regal Democrats need additional funds,” Terence told her. “They’re more than just a grievance vote like Human Liberation; they have actual financial policies that promise to deliver, and they’ve got Hafnir as proof they work as claimed.”
“Although you haven’t seen him receive offworld funding, Josias is still managing to cause trouble,” Zelinda said. “These economic reforms Regal Democrats are advocating are untried. He might not be funded by some other dominion, but he’s certainly proving more effective in achieving the goals of Human Liberation than they are themselves. Regal Democracy candidates have two candidates standing in Santa Rosa. That is not optimum. Nobody wants them spreading.”
“Okay,” Terence conceded. “All political activity goes into my reports anyway. The archon can decide if he wants me to run greater observation on Josias.”
* * *
—
Officially, the charter was for the Diligent to fly to Hoa Quinzu and Kingsnest so that they could search for Remnant Era salvage; that’s what Captain Dejean and the crew were told. Finn never mentioned the Archimedes Engine operating system to anyone, and Ellie was diplomatic about it, too. His rationalization was that the Diligent would be in orbit both times; all the risk would be on the landing teams.
He’d had a painful goodbye with Otylia when she came up to High Rosa the day before they left. He’d signed over final authority to manage what was left of his estate to her, while she gave him and Ellie their Hafnir certificates of residence.
