Coren tapped his fingers on the armrest. "What subsidiary did they sell off?"
"Captras Biomed."
"Who bought it?"
"A consortium of private investors. I'd have to do some prying to find out who. They bid anonymously. "
"Could you, please? I'm very interested."
Kelvy nodded, frowning.
"One more thing. Do you remember a bio research company called Nova Levis?"
"Sounds familiar. Old, gone now?"
"Yes. It shut down several years ago. I wondered if it might be possible to get a list of its investors."
"That would be a matter of public record."
"Not the real names," Coren said. "A lot of investors go on record through a front. The fronts are public. I want to know who really owned shares."
"All right. How soon do you need it?"
"Same time I need to know who bought Captras."
Kelvy smiled. "Ah-hah. Yesterday. Do we have time, then, for dinner?"
"I'd like that…"
"…but not tonight." She shrugged. "Oh, well. I'm just your broker, not anyone special. Your future lies in my hands every day, but you shouldn't be over-felicitous on that account. "
"Have I ever pointed out that you use a very questionable technique?"
"Several techniques, under the proper circumstances. I hope to show you more of them sometime." She smiled. "It'll be worth the wait. I'll get you this information by tomorrow morning. Soon enough?"
"That will do nicely. Thank you."
Kelvy pointed a finger at him. "We have plans?"
Coren grinned. "We have plans."
"Shoo, then. I have work to do."
Coren left her office. The plaza fronting the brokerage was filling up with second-shift on its way to work. Coren crossed to the walkways and stepped smoothly to the third lane.
He commed his office.
"Has Jeta Fromm contacted me yet?"
"No," replied the Desk.
Damn! "Any other messages?"
"Ambassador Ariel Burgess wishes you to call her as soon as possible. Mr. Doppler from Data Recovery Systems wishes you to contact him at your convenience."
Doppler…? Data Recovery Systems was the clearing house that had originally supplied him with Jeta Fromm. Coren closed the link to his Desk and tapped in Doppler's code.
"This is Lanra. "
"Mr. Lanra, forgive the intrusion," replied a smooth, androgynous voice. "There has been a…complication with our recent service. We've been trying to repair any possible harm that has resulted." Doppler's hesitancy made it clear that he felt embarrassed. "I wish to confirm that our service to you was acceptable. The operative your office has been attempting to locate-"
"Jeta Fromm."
"Yes, sir. Um…this is quite awkward…"
"You haven't been able to find her," Coren guessed.
"In fact, we haven't even tried. She has become no longer available, having ended her association with us three months ago. We are trying to determine a chronology so that service to our clients is not compromised. "
"Three months. That was before I retained her."
"Yes, sir," Doppler confirmed.
"You 're telling me that she wasn't even working for your company when she initially responded to my commission. And no one thought to inform me?"
Doppler seemed to clear his throat. "Regrettably so. I realize that excuses fail to compensate in this circumstance, but our system suffered an…intrusion…which kept us from monitoring certain files adequately. It wasn't until recently that we were able to restore the data and determine the nature of all the errors. I hope you understand."
Coren briefly felt cold. "I do, indeed. Am I the only person she contacted after she broke her ties with you?"
"No, sir, there were several others. I am not, of course, at liberty to discuss their files. "
"Of course not. Discretion is your reputation."
"Something like that. I also wanted to warn you that, under these unusual circumstances, whatever data you received from Ms. Fromm would be highly questionable. Our usual reimbursement policy is in effect, of course, but we will not guarantee the quality of the product."
"That's…problematic. Thank you for the call, Mr. Doppler."
"I hope this will not put you off using us in future."
"Of course not."
The link broke. Coren pocketed the comm. Jeta Fromm was dead. The question was when. Had he even met with her to begin with?
He watched the warrens pass by-shops, offices, home kitchens, girders, plazas, balconies. Block upon cube upon struts, mounding up to a hazy murk high above. The lights shone brilliant blue-white through the mists that formed near the upper elevations, delimiting the volume by showing everyone the ceiling of the cave. Inside. Tunnels, corridors, a maze of interconnected structure, involuted and self-cannibalizing over time, filling and refilling, home to billions, contained, giving the illusion of safety and accessibility. So easy to get from one place to another, it was all In Here, and the ways all clearly marked. No part of the world was cut off from any other. You could in principle reach anyone, anytime, by any of ten or a hundred pathways.
But not if they were dead.
If he had not lost his optam, he would have at least had something visual to run through-especially the humans that had accompanied the stealth robot. Odd, he was beginning to think of the robot as having been in charge.
Going through Damik had been the only way he could think of to find the people Nyom might have gone through, but that had led him into areas that seemed unrelated to Nyom's death.
So why pursue them? he wondered.
Because it felt connected. Because he saw Rega Looms' name on a list of investors of a company that he would today condemn as a morally questionable enterprise, a company with the same name as the colony his daughter had been murdered while trying to emigrate to. Because Looms had made the same remark as a man Coren had never even heard of till today. Because all these unrelated details felt related. He just could not see how. Yet.
The rule by which he had always worked was, when stuck for the next move, ask more questions.
Why did Damik go see Wenithal?
Coren certainly had names from the Wenithal connection, but not the ones he had expected and none he could do anything with, at least not immediately.
Unless I just can't see it…
He glanced at his watch, then pulled out his comm again.
A few connections later, Ariel Burgess answered.
"Coren Lanra, Ambassador."
"Mr. Lanra, thank you for returning my call. I think we need to talk."
"I couldn't agree more. In person?"
"That would be best." She paused. "Are you busy this evening?"
"I have no way of knowing yet. What did you have in mind?"
"I've been invited to an embassy dinner this evening. I have the option of bringing a guest of my choosing. Would you be interested?"
"At your embassy?"
"The Auroran embassy, yes. "
Coren hesitated. This sounded like a complete waste of time, but he had no other ideas past talking to Damik. "Um…"
"There will be other Terrans present, Mr. Lanra, it isn't that sort of dinner. I believe it could be very interesting. Even informative. It would be a favor to me if you'd agree."
"Will Ambassador Chassik be there?"
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
"Something I stumbled on today. I suppose this will be formal?"
"Of course."
"I have an errand to run up in the Baltimor District. I'm not sure how long that will take and I'll have to change before I meet you."
"We have an excellent tailor on the premises, Mr. Lanra."
"Two, three hours then?"
A pause. "I can make that work. There will be an escort in the main lobby to bring you to my apartment."
"Then I'll see you later this evening. "
"Thank you. "
The link broke. Dinner with the enemy? he mused. He laughed softly to himself as he headed for a commuter station. Brun Damik's apartment was on the fourth level of an expensive block in what had once been an exclusive warren. Though other parts of the urban complex now superseded it as the place to live, it still bespoke class and elegance, and far more credit than Damik ought to possess.